GEORGE WASHINGTON HANCOCK--PART 3

George Washington Hancock–Payson Pioneer
Part 3

The following is told in the words of members of the Mormon Battalion:

    On 23 July 1846,  at Ft. Leavenworth Colonel James Allen departed this life and a great sorrow and consternation fell upon every man of the Battalion for they had learned to love him for his tolerance and sympathy although he was not of their faith. Well might they have been concerned for later Lt. Smith was placed in command, at whose hands many suffered severe treatment. On 12 of Aug. in the heat of summer they started from the fort on their long march over unknown trodden trails to the great Pacific enduring the broiling sun, heavy rains and fierce winds and "save for a few officers detailed from the regular army of the United States, not a man had been a soldier unless in the ride train bands which held annual musters. On 15 Aug. They reached the Kansas or Kaw river and were ferried across the river on flat boats by half civilized Shawnee and Delaware Indians and a day or two later encountered a severe hurricane. Tents were blown away, wagons overturned, and rolled in the weeds, men fell on their faces and clung to the brush to keep from being blown away and were badly bruised and frightened. After reaching the Arkansas river they traveled up the river about one hundred miles and then crossed it at a point where the road branched: one road leading up the river to Bent's Fort and the other to Santa Fe. they took the road to Santa Fe and journeyed on twenty-five miles across a dreary desert and suffered intensely with excessive heat and want of water. Their teams shared in their suffering too. Finally they came to a pond of water but it was full of insects where Buffalo had gathered to defend themselves from the flies. The water was discolored and had a most disgusting appearance, however. No luxury was ever more thankfully received and the men drank of this awful water and filled their canteens and flagons, as bad as it was.
    The next day they continued on across the dry parched desert and then made a dry camp but started at 4 o'clock the next morning and traveled on ten miles and encamped where they obtained brackish water by digging holes in the sand. All during these long marches the sick were at the mercy of a fiendish surgeon who ordered the sick marched before him to the tune of "Jim along Joe" and administered to them powders of calomel and arsenic from an old rusty spoon. If the sick declined to swallow his dose, the medicine was forced down them to the accompanying of blood curdling oaths from the wicked murderous doctor.
    A hospital wagon was attached to each company but one would have to be unable to walk before given use of this wagon. At roll call the quack doctor, George B. Sanderson of Platte Co. Missouri, an enemy of the saints, then ordered a dose of calomel or arsenic for every complaint, administered out of his old spoon by his first aid, a colored boy. To add to the hardships of the men they were reduced to two-thirds rations and each day either from calomel, poor rations, or filthy water, made thick as gruel by the Buffalo wallowing in it, sickness increased and their condition was pathetic. Thus with poor equipment, short rations and sickness they marched over the hot desert sands of Kansas, and on eleven hundred miles to the mountains of Santa Fe, New Mexico, having been two months on this toilsome journey over a trackless wilderness, suffering with chills and fever and the tyranny of a quack doctor. They arrived the 12 October.
    On this march George fell prey to the inhuman practices of Dr. Sanderson and at once became sicker from the effects of the medicine and went and laid down in the back of a wagon. It being too hot to travel during the day the Battalion was on march during the night and when night came on George's devoted brother, Charles, stole up behind the wagon where George was lying and took him in his arms and carried him away out of sight of the train of wagons. He held him in his arms all night, praying for him and for strength for both of them to go on. After some time both of them fell asleep. In the morning when then awoke they were refreshed and well and they praised God for his blessings to them and then hurried on and overtook the wagons, and from then on George had no more sickness.
    Upon their arrival at Santa Fe, Col. George Cook took command of the Battalion and of them wrote "Some are too old, some are too feeble and some are too young. They are undisciplined, much worn by traveling on foot and marching from Nauvoo with clothing scant, no money and their mules utterly broke down. Their animals are scarce and inferior and deteriorating every hour for lack of forage. The Battalion broke camp at Santa Fe and traveled six miles to Agua Frio and then down the Rio Grande Del Norte and camped on the 10th of November. On the 11th, they marched about 15 miles and where water and grass was plentiful. On the 13th they turned off to the right and left the Rio Grande Del Norte and traveled in a southwesterly direction. On Sunday, the 15th of November, an old white ox which had been seen at least a dozen summers and which had been driven all the way from Fort Leavenworth, having given out the day before a few miles back, was brought into camp, dressed and issued as rations. He was a mere skeleton and his small amount of remaining flesh was more like sickly jelly than raw meat.
    The valley in which they encamped on this day they named "White Ox Valley" and the little rivulet they named White Ox.
The condition of their larder by this time may be imagined from the lines of Levi Ward Hancock, descriptive of their plight
    On the 16th, they came to a spring in a narrow canyon which they named Cook's Spring" which name it still bears. On the 17 they reached the copper mine road leading from the mine to Yamos. Along this they marched 18 miles over a gradually ascending prairie to Ojo De Vaca or Cow Spring, with courage undaunted they marched on, poorly clad and food diminished, crossed to the Continental Divide and on the 28 they reached the back bone of North America. Here they found plenty of deer, bear, and antelope and small game in the Sugar Loaf mountains. Grass was tall and at places tracts for the wagons were made by marching files of men ahead to tramp down the grass in ruts wherein the wheels might run. In places from the top of the Divide the wagons were lowered with ropes by hand to the bottom of the canyons while the animals were driven below. While crossing this mountainous region the Battalion had gone without water for 48 hours and each day their food grew less. On Dec. 2 they reached the ruins of the rancho San Bernadino and here the first wild cattle were found. They traveled to a stream called Ash Creek and there one of their number Elisha Smith, dies and was buried. The night was made hideous with the howls of large wolves.
    From Ash Creek they marched 17 miles northwest and camped without food or water. Patiently they journeyed on to the San Pedro valley then a distance of ten miles to San Pedro Creek and then 6 miles down the stream. In the valley of the San Pedro on the 11th they camped in a canyon. Here they found grass tall and thick. Wild animals bedded in this grass. Unaccustomed to the intrusion for this was the first trail made through this country, the wild bulls resented any infringement upon their privacy. The soldiers who went out in advance of the command passed along the bluffs on each side of the stream and came upon hundreds of wild cattle. As the wagons and mules marched upon them it was a challenge for conflict. The animals gathered on the line of march to gratify their curiosity and marched toward the train of wagons and soldiers as if bent upon finding who dared to intrude upon their quiet retreat. Their terrible forms and majestic appearance was impressive. Every man alone loaded his musket and the battle was on. The roar of guns heard from one end of the line to the other mingled with the roar and bellows of the wild bulls was terrorizing. One of the team mules was gored to death, several tossed into the air and the two pack mules were killed. Wagons were damaged and the sick were frightened. Hideous bellows and roars were resounded, men yelled and screamed and confusion prevailed. Some threw themselves down and allowed the beasts to run over them, others fired and dodged behind mesquite brush to re-load their guns, while the beasts kept coming at them. Others climbed up small trees and others on top of the wagon tops. Amos Cox, a member of the Battalion, was thrown about 10 feet into the air with a gore cut in his thigh from which he suffered all his life. Albert Smith of Co. B. was run over by a wounded bull and had three ribs broken. The bulls were finally subdued and those not killed is not known but probably sixty were either killed or wounded. One writer records 81 were killed and many more wounded. The encampment pressed on to the Tucson fort, arriving on the 14 Dec. tarrying for a brief bloodless battle in taking the ancient Pueblo.
    When they arrived at Tucson, Arizona, Charles Hancock had two shirts. He traded one for a quart of corn and then divided it equally with his brother George. They ate but a few kernels of corn a day and thus kept from starving. On the 18 they continued their journey and from this time they went for many days without water. They traveled over a heavy desert where the wagons had to be pulled through the deep sands by the men with ropes. Men became so weak for want of water that they could not go on but were left by the road side. Lt. Rosecrans, who now was Capt. of Co. C. left his men and rode on in advance and into the hills in search of water. Fortunately he found a hole some distance from the road. He filled their canteens, mounted his mule and rode back to the famished men where he found them along the trail in squads of two or three without water, or blankets or a fire and unable to go on. He gave them what water he had which revived them and then led them to the spring. They resumed their march about 3 a.m. and on the 20 came to water and camped. During this time George carried a bullet in his mouth for days to cause the saliva to keep his mouth wet so he would not choke.*

*From Biography submitted by Janine Simons