A Girl's Letters from Nauvoo [pp. 616-638]

A Girl's Letters from Nauvoo.
A GIRL'S LETTERS FROM NAUVOO.
CITY OF NAUVOO, Jan. 3, I843.
As I write Nauvoo I look at the word
with perfect amazement, and almost
doubt my own senses when I find myself an inhabitant of this city of fanatics,
for never did I expect to see the place,
far less to indite letters to my dear parents from it. I think nothing henceforth will disturb my equanimity, not
even to send letters from the Pacific
shore or Polar seas. But here we are,
brother, Elizabeth, and myself, getting comfortably settled for the winter.
Brother, who came here late in November, wrote to us in December to "take a
mild, pleasant day and come up"; that
he had engaged a house and was expecting the furniture (shipped two weeks
before), and all things would be in readiness for us; so we zealously applied ourselves for the journey, and with the assistance of Mrs. D. and Mrs. G. (Quincy
House friends), we made four large
comforters, and were ready to leave
Quincy Thursday, December 22nd.
The weather had been mild for several days, with rain. Wednesday night
the wind changed, and in the morning
we were surprised to hear that the thermometer was five degrees below zero,
with a stiff northwest wind. Our friends
tried to dissuade us from starting until
the weather moderated, but the stage
leaves but twice a week, and we had
written to brother that wve should be
there that week. While we were equipping ourselves for a ride on the cold
prairie, we held quite a levee,- so many
came to say goodby, and all said, "You
can't wrap up too much." I wish you
could have seen us! I can't say how I
looked, but E. looked more like a bale
of cotton than anything else I can compare her to; for besides cloaks, shawls,
and hood, she had stuffed around her
three pounds of batting, two comforters,
and a buffalo robe. After we were well
packed and ready to start, Mr. Randolph
brought out and insisted on my wearing
his buffalo moccasins.
When the stage was announced, we
took an affectionate leave of friends to
whom we had become dearly attached,
and whom we regretted parting from.
Mr. Denman with other gentlemen attended us to the stage. The driver
looked at us, and at our three trunks,
and then at us again, seeming to say,
"There is only room for one," though
there were no other passengers. After
a while he said he could pack us both if
we would leave our largest trunks until
the next trip, which we unhesitatingly
decided to do,'(and although it is now a
fortnight we have not yet seen them).
With the best wishes of Quincy friends
we bid adieu to that delightful place,
where two months had passed so quickly and pleasantly.
Our stage much resembled an Eastern
butcher's wagon, and we soon ascertained that the curtains on the sides were
destitute of fastenings, for they flapped
up and down, to and fro, admitting a
bracing circulation of air at every gust,
which seemed to come direct from Arctic regions. The driver, who occupied
the seat before us, told us we must on
no account stop talking, "for," says he,
"people freeze to death on these prairies
before they know it,"-and he seemed
to be determined not to freeze, for when
not talking to us, he talked to his horses.
He related to us several instances of
lone travelers getting lost on these wide,
fenceless, treeless plains, wandering
round and round in a circle, and afterwards found frozen to death. We thought
these cautions needless, for we were prepared to withstand the cold of Lapland.
616
[Dec.