Last month, above the distant hustle of hundreds of distracted thousands of citizens in the Salt Lake Valley below, a few hundred saints met in the summer’s morning air in Pioneer Heritage Park to celebrate the legacy of their forefathers in the groundbreaking ceremony for the Mormon Battalion Heritage Plaza.
Special guest and keynote speaker Elder M. Russell Ballard of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles reminisced, “It was a tremendously challenging and difficult problem to conquer the desert and to come into this valley and help it blossom and become the beautiful, marvelous city and center that we now have.”
Speaking specifically of the Mormon Battalion legacy, he said:
I worry that the youth as they are coming up with all of this technology that’s gobbling up their minds — when you see them with the iPods and their cell phones and their text messaging and all of this technology that most of us sitting here don’t know how to do — I worry that in the process of that, they are going to lose who they are. And we must not let that happen!”
One hundred and sixty-one years ago, the Mormon pioneers were reluctantly initiated into the ranks of American pioneers, thrust out of Illinois and scattered in groups of tens and thousands over hundreds of square miles between the shores of the Mississippi and the Missouri Rivers. They had left the United States.
As they turned their backs on a nation that had rejected them and their religion, they wandered through Indian territories preparing to travel en masse to a foreign land beyond — perhaps bleak enough that no one else would want it or molest its inhabitants.
So it was not surprising that when a small group of uniformed soldiers was seen riding into a refugee camp in June of 1846, mothers ran in terror collecting their little ones. The military was coming to finish the job! However, it was not the “Mormon war” that concerned U.S. Army Captain James Allen but the war with Mexico, and he was there by direct orders of Stephen Kearny, soon-to-be the General of the Army of the West, and authorized by U.S. President James K. Polk to recruit 500 Mormon volunteers.
The Ragged and Battered Company
What did that ragged and battered company of 500 that became the Mormon Battalion do to deserve so much praise and reverence that Brigham Young, the Prophet said of them, “As the Lord lives; you will never be forgotten … but will be held in honorable remembrance for ever and ever”?
It is estimated there are six million descendents of the Mormon Battalion. How many of them (and the rest of us) have forgotten the sacrifices of their forefathers, their contributions to the Church, and the spirit of their devotion?
As a sculptor engaged over the past three years in a five-year project to honor the Battalion, I have grown to appreciate in a very special way their courage and sacrifice. I would like to share with Meridian’s readership in installments, bits and pieces of the Mormon Battalion that have helped me feel the strength of their souls and made me love them and their cause.
As Elder Ballard observed one day to us in the course of reviewing the progress of the Mormon Battalion sculpture, “If we are not careful, in one generation our youth could cease to recognize their forefathers entirely.”
In a day when our children look to unlikely teachers such as Frodo and Harry Potter for lessons in morality and heroism, we must help the next generation remember that they have no shortage of real heroes in their own church history. There is an acute need for deliberate storytelling, for reconnecting our youth to their progenitors, and for epic artistic works that depict with moral clarity to our descendents the testimony of their faithful forefathers and mothers.
In the Book of Mormon, Helaman (the son of Alma) knew of the power of the legacy of righteous ancestors when he named his sons Nephi and Lehi.
But it was of little value if he didn’t also teach them of the life and deeds of Lehi and Nephi.
Behold, I have given you the names of our first parents who came out of the land of Jerusalem; and this I have done that when you remember your names ye may remember them; and when you remember them ye may remember their works; and when ye remember their works, ye may know how that it is said, and also written that they were good (Hel. 5:6-7).
What greater desires do we have as parents than that of Helaman?
The parents of Robert Pettegrew Paul understood this when they gave him the namesake of his great great-grandfather, David Pettegrew — the unofficial chaplain of the Mormon Battalion. Robert Paul, the “Mr. Mormon Battalion” of our generation, has spent a large part of his life striving to preserve the heritage of the Battalion and is the catalyst in such enterprises as the production of documentary videos, memorial services in the Tabernacle, and the construction of the Memorial Plaza — which will include a museum, garden and monumental statues.
His efforts include a lot of grueling fund-raising without which no memorial can remain.
When I first met him four years ago, he spoke diminutively of his own contributions. “I am the very least of all men,” he would say, and then plow headlong into a story about his great grandfather.
David Pettegrew was born in 1791 in Weatherfield, Windsor County, Vermont. He began his life history, of which the family typed a copy of his handwritten diary and lent me to assist in the research for the Battalion sculpture, by stating that his grandfather Alexander Pettegrew and father William were soldiers in the Revolutionary War. His father was a “very strict professor of the Methodist Church and a traveling preacher.”
Little did he know of the later significance of those foreshadowing lines on the first page of his diary.
David wrote that he made no profession of religion until he was 32, seven years after his father had passed away, when he became much concerned about his own welfare:
I cried much unto the Lord for mercy, but I feared that I had gone beyond redemption … but through the mercies of the Almighty God I found rest to my soul. I was now determined to lead a new life and to serve my God the remainder of my days. I frequently called upon my neighbors to repent and become Christians and pray unto the Lord with their families….”
Like many of the early converts to the Restored Gospel, David wrote, “I was exceedingly anxious to know why we could not attain to the same religion of the apostles or to the same faith and work. I believed that there was but one right way, and I was much troubled concerning that matter.”[1]
David Pettigrew joined the Methodist Church, after his father, stating that it was the “nearest correct of any of the professing world.” He added, “After I professed religion my daily business was to live to what I professed…”
David married Elizabeth Alden of New Hampshire, and together they had eight children, many whom David Pettigrew outlived. They lived a rigorous life in Dearborn County, Indiana, raising their children and creating a prosperous farm. David became a class leader in the Methodist Church and would often preach to the congregation.
Then, on New Year’s Day in 1832, an old acquaintance knocked on his door and presented to him a copy of The Book of Mormon, asking what he thought about it. “This was indeed new to me,” he wrote. “I thought (it) a trick, as he looked upon this book as sacred as on the Bible. I opened the book; it was the Second Book of Nephi, 5th chapter. I read on awhile; my thoughts were very active. What to think I knew not. It was entirely a new thing to me, and I began to mind what I was reading, although I observed to my wife that I did not think that it was the words of him who had a devil. This was on the Sabbath morning; I read until meeting time then invited the gentleman to the meeting house.”[2]
As the class leader, David had the gentleman occupy the pulpit and preach that afternoon about the Restoration. Immediately after, David arose and said, “I recommend that we be wise and not hasty in making up our minds concerning this matter, for if it is of man it will be good for nothing and will soon come to naught, but if it should be of God and we should be found at variance with it we would be exceedingly sorry in days to come.”[3]
A few weeks later, David Pettegrew purchased his own copy of the Book of Mormon, and a few weeks after that he noted, “…for my mind was now enlightened and I thought it would not do for me to partake of the sacrament administered in the Methodist Church, as formerly.”
As he found a way to withdraw from being class leader, David bore his testimony as he wrote, “These things caused me to draw nearer to the Lord and He to me, and He witnessed to me that He had now begun His work for the last days, and that the Book of Mormon was the true book. And by it I saw that the Lord was the same Lord, and its gospel was the same, and its ordinances were the same as those I had been taught to observe.”[4]
A Single Trait
These written words have a timeless familiarity to all believers in The Book of Mormon. It is said that Father Pettegrew, as he was called by members of the Mormon Battalion, would often press his Book of Mormon to his breast while praying during the long, arduous march. It was this figure that I chose to create, to infuse into the group of soldiers pictured, the spiritual strength of the Mormon Battalion. For without this single trait, the Mormon Battalion would never have existed.
Thus it is placed in the very front of the composition, modeled after his 2nd great grandson, Robert Paul, standing in as proxy for David Pettegrew. The overall scene is at the moment they get their first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean — Father Pettegrew kneeling in a prayer of gratitude and thanksgiving — “Duty Triumphs.”
The Pettegrew family was compelled to join with the Church in Missouri, selling their home and farm before they were even baptized. David’s brother, alarmed at this action, visited him saying it was his duty to appoint a guardian for him as he was obviously deranged:
I told him my reasoning faculties were as well as ever and the Lord did not suffer him or any other person to have power over me.
Before they moved, David visited Cincinnati, where there was a branch of the Church. There he was baptized by Elder Isaac Higby, receiving a letter of recommendation to the Bishop in Missouri.
They then traveled by boat on the Ohio and Missouri Rivers, to Old Franklin, Missouri, where David left the rest of the family to finish recovering from a near-fatal bout with cholera. He alone traveled the last 120 miles to Independence and stayed with Bishop Edward Partridge:
I found him a gentleman, filling that high office which he occupied with great dignity, such as the New Testament states, that a man filling the office of a Bishop should be. His appearance was grave and thoughtful, yet pleasant and agreeable. [5]
Settling In
David bought a farm in Jackson County containing 159 acres, 6 miles west of Independence, and hired Hiram Page to build them a house. Then, according to the Law of Consecration, he gave the land back to the Bishop, who divided it into seven inheritances. His family was very pleased with their new home and their new surroundings. “We began to see the same order that was in ancient days, and our hearts rejoiced in the God of Israel; to see and know that we were in the right way was a source of great gratification and rejoicing with us.”[6]
However, this time was also the beginning of severe persecutions of the members of the Church in Independence. Right after he arrived in Independence, David was approached by a Rev. Finas Ewing, who questioned him and recommended that he should go back to where he came from and join the Methodists again. After a heated discussion, the man said the day would come when “we shall be under the necessity of going to Jackson County with our guns and bayonets and drive the Mormons from that county.”
Then David wrote, “Sure enough, his words were verified, for in little over one year he was at the head of two hundred men of Lafayette County, armed and equipped for the purpose of driving the Mormons from their home.”[7]
It was not long after that he recorded, ”We arrived at our farm and found it plundered of everything such as clothing, bedding, bed clothes, trunks, pots, kettles, silver spoons, knives and forks, and in fact all my corn field destroyed, (and) my farming utensils taken away.”[8] They moved from there to Van Buren County and stayed there briefly. “Mr. Cornet told me if I did not leave this place immediately he would spill my blood. I told them of the property I had left in Jackson County and that I was very determined not to dispose of my farm; that I had left the country, although I was destitute of means, provisions and all the necessaries of life, and that the weather was extremely cold, the snow deep and my family barefooted.”[9]
They then moved to Clay County until again driven out. “After being kicked, robbed, cuffed and driven away from the land we called our own, we were now looked upon as outlaws, denied a vote at the polls where all free born, as well as the adopted citizens of these United States, have the right to cast their votes for whom they please.”[10]
The Pettegrew family then moved with the rest of the saints to Caldwell County. “I purchased a farm at Government price and, highly delighted with the prospect before me, soon built a house with my two sons, Hiram and David who were of great assistance to me.” The persecutions continued.
In the fall of 1838, David Pettegrew was appointed a captain of ten and fought in the Battle of Crooked River when David Patten was killed. “The excitement continued until the arrival of Generals Clark and Lucas with orders from the Governor to exterminate the Mormons. A sorrowful scene ensued — stealing, robbing, plundering and compelling us to deed away all our personal property, as well as the real estate.”[11]
He saw Joseph Smith delivered into the hands of General Clark for incarceration in Liberty Jail. ”I saw them as they passed the town of Far West on their way to bid farewell to their families, who were nearly distracted at their misfortune– bidding adieu to those weeping little ones and giving such instructions to them as they thought fit. It was a soul-rending trial to them.”[12]
Further Hardships
David Pettegrew was also imprisoned during that same time in Richmond Jail. “This dungeon was a filthy, dirty place, full of cobwebs, it seemed to us. The air was foul and impure and it was with difficulty we could breathe.” He was finally released on bail, months later on Dec. 6th, 1838.
He wrote:
I again enjoyed the society of my family and friends, helping my sons to gather their crops of corn, get wood, etc. My farm was beautiful, the land rich and lying only three miles from Far West in full view of the town.
But about a month later, the sheriff of Davis County was about to pay them a visit. Bro. Pettegrew was counseled to leave the state. He fled with Bishop Edward Partridge in the middle of the night, settling in Quincey, Illinois.
His family followed him three months later. Several days after their arrival in Quincey, David and Elizabeth’s son Hiram became ill and died. “This was a greater trial to us than any in Missouri. We buried him in the Quincey burying ground with a stone at his head and feet with the letters “H.P.” cut by my own hands with an axe. Alas! The days of his troubles are over.”[13]
Shortly after, the family moved to Nauvoo, to Zarahemla, and then back to Nauvoo. Brother Joseph called him on a mission to Indiana and Ohio. He returned in May of 1843, then again left on a mission to New York in 1844, despite his having a prolonged illness. He returned to Vermont and New Hampshire to visit relatives and the graves of his parents:
In a few days after our departure we heard the dreadful news of the death of our beloved brethren, Joseph and Hyrum, which gave us feelings indescribable. We hardly knew what to do or how to act for a while. We at length resolved to visit all our acquaintances, bearing testimony to what we verily knew and believed and then moved on to the west, lifting up our voices by the way.”[14]
The missions didn’t end with the death of the Prophet. He again went on a mission in January 1845, returning to Nauvoo in June because of illness and rheumatism in his knee. “We passed the season in doing all that we profitably could to forward the Temple, according to commandment, that the Saints might receive their just reward; so in December and January following we received great blessings.”[15]
David Pettegrew was then called to command the third division of 50 in Captain Morley’s company in the great exodus of Nauvoo. Arriving on the 1st of July, 1846, at Council Bluffs, he found a recruiting officer and an almost fully formed battalion.
At this time I received word from President Young wishing me to join the Battalion which had volunteered their services to the United States. I called upon the President and informed him that my son, James Phineas, had enlisted and it was impossible for both of us to go. “If you both can’t go.” he replied, “I wish you to go by all means, as a kind of a helmsman.” I understood him and knew his meaning. [16]
What could possibly have been going through his head at this time? They were in the wilderness, in potentially dangerous lands and his family’s welfare was at stake. He had been quite sick lately, was fully ten years older than the cut-off age that the U.S. Army had specified, and he would be expected to march thousands of hostile miles with an arthritic knee that had cut his last mission short!
His exemplary faith, which had long been tempered in the fires of adversity, was simply expressed in his next sentence: “I returned home and made all necessary arrangements to go to Mexico and California as a soldier of the United States, leaving my family in the protection and care of the Almighty God. Amen.”
The reason for recruiting 500 Mormon volunteers from the perspective of the United States was not the same reason from the Mormon perspective that volunteers actually enlisted. The nuances of this political fire dance will be addressed in the next article. Suffice it to say that President Brigham Young felt strongly that it was absolutely necessary that the five companies be filled with volunteers. “If we want the privilege of going where we can worship God according to the dictates of our conscience, we must raise the Battalion.”[17]
Complex History
The particulars of the Mormon Battalion’s march are complex and have been forgotten by a large percentage of the Church. President Hinckley remarked at the rededication of their monument on the Utah State Capitol ground a few years ago, that they suffered more than any other of the Mormon pioneers except for the Martin and Willy handcart companies. A few glimpses of the march are written here as recorded by David Pettegrew in his diary.
He and his son James both marched to Ft. Leavenworth, where the whole Battalion was outfitted. Once on the march to San Diego, David Pettegrew and Elder Levi Hancock were asked by the commanders to take charge of the spiritual affairs of the camp. In the diary entry of Aug. 28th, 1846 he records their prayer:
O Lord! Help thy servants to do good that thy name may have glory and honor and we be thy humble servants … we ask thee in the name of thy Son to bless thy servants, the officers of this battalion. Oh! Give them wisdom to manage wisely that we may be blessed. O Lord, we ask thee to bless all the soldiers and grant them health and strength. Oh, bless the sick. Bless the surgeon and his assistants. Oh! Bless us all.[18]
Three days later he recorded in his diary:
Many of the brethren are sick and great tyranny was acted by Doctor Sanderson compelling the brethren to take calomel. It is a trying time with the brethren; many sick; they must take medicine or go on foot. I saw many sick taken to the doctor and some were ordered back or take calomel. “Oh Lord! Deliver us from the hands of Doctor Sanderson.” [19] On the 17th we buried Bro. Phelps and traveled 21 miles; the 18th, 30 miles; 19th, 12 miles to the Seminole Springs; 20th, up the Seminole 11 miles; 21st 18 miles; 22nd, 15 miles. From Fort Leavenworth to Santifee (Santa Fe), according to my account, is 872 miles, yet I believe it is more than 900.) [20]
October 30th: We marched 16 miles through sand chiefly, and in some places the sand was so deep that the men were obliged to assist the teams with ropes, etc.[21]
Nov. 4th: Early this morning at reveille, the corpse (Hampton from Company A) was borne in silence before the lines; all was silent and we were standing on an elevated point on the banks of the river, the occasional ripple of the waters and the barren and desolate land around us made the scenery solemn and produced a feeling of solemnity in almost every bosom. At this place our rations were again reduced to nine ounces of flour per day, one and a half pound of fresh meat and ten ounces of pork once in four days. We traveled 17 miles, two men being tied behind an ox wagon for the crime of not getting up to salute the officer of the day in the middle of the night. [22]
A goodly number of us narrowly escaped a toss-up in the air by the wild bulls on the 11th of December. And I believe we ran as great a risk as though we had faced an army of Spaniards with equal numbers. [23]
Dec. 16th: We marched 19 miles and came into the town of Tosone (Tucson). Here the soldiery had left and fled to a neighboring town so we marched through without any resistance. [24]
Christmas Day: We took up our line of march and traveled 24 miles and encamped without water. [25]
Jan. 27th: We were in sight of mountains covered with snow while the weather was like a summer’s day in the valleys…We traveled by the side of a stream called San Louis. Here the wild geese and ducks were very plentiful. We passed a place called San Louis mission, of which I shall hereafter give some account. We shortly came in sight of the Pacific Ocean, which to us was a good sight as we had performed a long and tedious march and suffered many hardships and privations both with weariness, hunger, thirst and cold. Most of us were barefoot and our clothes were very ragged.”[26]
And here the reader returns to where we began. But how our perspective has changed looking at the same sculpture! (To be continued.)
Author’s postscript: For those who read my first article and searched in vain for the second migration hidden in the painting “Escape to Zarahemla,” look again in the sky to see the Nauvoo Exodus.
Okay; if you can’t see them yet I’ll point them out for you:
- Mother and daughter walking into the wind;
- father holding hat on, walking with wife and child between;
- ox pulling Conestoga wagon;
- husband with hat, wife in bonnet pulling handcart with figure behind helping to push. Notice piled-up belongings in the cart and wheel just above the numeral 4.
Notes
1. Unpublished manuscript; typed copy of handwritten autobiography of David Pettegrew; family heirloom; pg. 8.
2. Ibid, pg. 6.
3. Ibid, pg. 7
4. Ibid, pg. 9
5. Ibid, pgs. 11-12.
6.Ibid, pg. 12
7. Ibid, pg. 14.
8. Ibid, pg. 22
9. Ibid, pg. 23.
10. Ibid, pg. 25.
11. Ibid, pg. 31.
12. Ibid, pg. 30.
13.Ibid, pg. 34.
14.Ibid, pg. 53.
15.Ibid, pg. 36.
16.Ibid, pg. 36.
17. Daniel Tyler, A Concise History of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War, 1846-1848, Publisher’s Press, Salt Lake City, UT; 2000, 7th Printing; pg. 117.
18. David Pettegrew autobiography, pg. 61.
19. Ibid, pg. 62.
20. Ibid, pgs. 63-64.
21. Ibid, pg. 66.
22. Ibid, pg 67.
23.Ibid, pg. 71.
24.Ibid, pg. 72
25. Ibid, pg. 74.
26. Ibid, pg. 76.