Col. Cooke in addition to natural austerity of temperament was a strict disciplinarian, and generally held himself aloof from the men. A few anecdotes that fortunately survived the march, and which were related by Wilford Woodruff at the celebration of Pioneer's Day, in 1880, show the Colonel in some of his better moods, and witness the fact that he could be somewhat broadly tolerant of the independent attitude of some members of his Mormon command. The Woodruff narratives follow:

Character of Col. Cooke.—"Those who marched with him (Colonel Cooke) can understand him much better than I can describe him. I think he possessed a better heart than his language would sometimes indicate. He was a strict disciplinarian, and, like Lord Nelson, expected every man to do his duty. But he had a peculiar streak in his composition at times that induced him to see how far the Mormon Battalion would go in obeying his commands and that were inconsistent with reason and good judgment. As an illustration of this, for the edification or amusement of the remnant of the Battalion who are present, I will refer to a few incidents, and if I do not get everything as it transpired, I will get it as nearly as I can, from the report of those who were present."

Col. Cooke and Christopher Layton.—"On one occasion, while the Battalion was crossing a river with a ferry-boat, Col. Cooke was sitting on his mule on the bank looking at them. The boat went down into such deep water that the setting poles did not touch bottom. 'Try the upper side,' said he. They did so, but could not touch bottom. The colonel then took off his hat and said: 'Good bye, gentlemen. When you get down to the Gulf of California, give my respects to the folks.' He then rode off and left them, not waiting to see whether they would reach shore or go down the river. He soon returned and found that they had got ashore. While sitting there, Christopher Layton rode up to the river on a mule to let it drink. Col. Cooke said to him, 'Young man, I want you to ride across the river and carry a message for me to Capt. Hunt.' It being natural for the men to obey the Colonel's order, he [Layton] tried to ride into the river, but he had gone but a few steps before his mule was going in all over. So Brother Layton stopped. The colonel halloed out, 'Go on, young man; go on, young man.' But Brother Layton, on a moment's reflection, was satisfied that if he attempted it both he and his mule would stand a good chance to be drowned. The colonel himself was satisfied of the same. So Brother Layton turned his mule and rode off, saying, as he came out, 'Colonel, I'll see you in hell before I will drown myself and mule in that river.' The colonel looked at him a moment, and said to the by-standers, 'What is that man's name?' 'Christopher Layton, sir.' 'Well, he is a saucy fellow.'"

Col. Cooke and Lot Smith.—On another occasion, (while the Battalion was at Santa Fe) Col. Cooke ordered Lot Smith to guard a Mexican corral, and having a company of United States cavalry camped by, he told Lot if the men came to steal the poles to bayonet them. The men came and surrounded the corral, and while Lot was guarding one side, they would hitch to a pole on the other, and ride off with it. When the Colonel saw the poles were gone, he asked Lot why he did not obey orders and bayonet the thieves? Lot replied, "If you expect me to bayonet United States troops for taking a pole on the enemy's ground to make a fire of, you mistake your man." Lot expected to be punished, and he was placed under guard, but nothing further was done about it.

The Colonel, the Mule and Bigler.—"Col. Cooke called upon W. H. Bigler as a provost guard one day to guard his tent. The colonel had a favorite mule, which was fed some grain on a blanket. One of the freight mules came up and helped to eat the grain. The Colonel drove him off several times, but he would follow him again, until the colonel got vexed, and said to Bigler, 'Is your musket loaded?' 'No sir.' 'Then load it and give it to me.' Brother Bigler is the last man on earth that any one acquainted with him would have supposed would have played any tricks on the colonel. But he took out a cartridge and bit off the ball end, which he dropped on the ground. He then rammed the powder and paper down the gun, capped it and handed it to the colonel. Several of the officers of the Battalion stood looking on. As the mule came back to get the grain and had arrived within a rod of him, the colonel fired the charge into its face; but the only effect that it had upon the mule was to cause it to give a snort, wheel around and kick at him, and then run off a few rods, after which it turned to come back again. This created a good deal of amusement with the lookers on. The only remark the colonel made, as he handed back the musket to Brother Bigler, was, 'Young man, that gun was not properly loaded.'"Wire, Wire, Damn You Sir.—"Col. Cooke had rather more sternness than familiarity in him. When he gave an order, if he was not fully understood by the soldiers, they did not like to question him. On one occasion he wanted some wire to fix up his tent. He ordered one of the soldiers to go to a certain man and get some wire, but he did not speak plainly and the soldier did not understand what he said. Nevertheless the soldier started to go on the errand, but began to think that he could not tell what to ask for. So he went back to the colonel and asked him what he had told him to get. The colonel said, 'Wire, wire, wire, damn you sir.' The soldier went to the man and asked for some wire for Col. Cooke. But the man had not got any wire. 'What did you ask for?' inquired the colonel, when the man returned. 'I asked for wire, wire, wire, damn you sir.' 'That will do, that will do, young man. You may go to your tent.'"

Col. Cooke's Respect for the Battalion.—"These instances show a little of the kind of temperament Col. Cooke possessed, but he had a good, generous heart. He entertained great respect for the Mormon Battalion and he always spoke kindly of them before the government and all men. When he went through Salt Lake City with Col. A. S. Johnston, in 1858, he uncovered his head in honor of the Mormon Battalion, that five hundred brave men that he had led two thousand miles over sandy deserts and through rocky canyons, in the midst of thirst, hunger, and fatigue, in the service of their country. May God bless Col. Cooke; and may he bless the Battalion and their posterity after them."[88:a]

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