”Calm as a Summer’s Morning“
30 X 48 Oil
Looking east across the Mississippi
one can just see the Nauvoo temple as it rises through the morning mist on the opposite
shore. Today, this is a tranquil scene as river and marsh gently reflect the warm
glow of early morning light.
In February, 1846, the scene was much different. Cold and wet, the first emigrants
debarked from their flatboats onto the west bank with all of their possessions loaded
into the bellies of covered wagons. Expelled from the state and forced from their
homes with little or no compensation, the exiles were a pitiful lot. In the first
weeks of February, hundreds of wagons lined Parley Street in Old Nauvoo waiting their
turn to cross the river. Some would cross in flatboats while dodging ice flows, others
would cross on the ice itself. Later, this route would be known as “The Trail of
Tears.”
The top of this hill, I was aware, was the last point from which
I could see the Nauvoo temple. I have no words with which to
convey a proper conception of my feelings when taking a last
look at this sacred monument. . .I can scarcely restrain my
feelings when I write of it.
Priddy Meeks