Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this son of York, And all the clouds that lowered upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried; Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums are changed to merry-meetings And our dreadful marches to delighted measures. --Richard III. The Mormon war cloud that lowered so portentously during the winter of 1857-8 had been dispelled without bloodshed, and peace once more brooded over the land. The soldiers of the "Nauvoo Legion" had "hung up their _un_-bruised arms for monuments" and resumed their old avocations, and the wheels of trade, "the calm health of nations," were once again running in their accustomed grooves. The people had set to work with redoubled energy to make up for the losses "the war" had entailed upon them, so that they had little time or inclination for amusement. The advent of Johnson's army into Utah, although encamped forty miles from the city, had its effect; it brought in its wake, as an army always does, a lot of camp followers,--hangers-on--a contingent that was thrown largely into Salt Lake, and not a desirable one. This made the Mormon people wary and suspicious, and inclined them more than ever to isolate themselves from strangers. Notwithstanding this condition of affairs, in the winter of '59 they began to resume their usual amusements, and a number of plays were given that winter in the Social Hall. By this time the "army" having no active service, began to feel the need of some amusement, and some of the soldiers improvised a theatre in the camp. Sergt. R. C. White, better known later among Pacific coast theatricals as "Dick" White, was the leading spirit in this affair. White was a scholar as well as a soldier; moreover, he had the poetic and dramatic instinct in him, and in common with all living creatures, he felt that he must exercise his faculties. So in order to give vent to his pent up love of the drama, he organized a dramatic company among the soldiers of Camp Floyd. The Sergeant, or "Dick" as he was called, was not only a clever amateur actor but a poet, and something of an artist as well. By his skill in this latter line he soon had the necessary scenery painted for the Camp theatre. Pigments were scarce in the camp and even in Salt Lake at that time, but White was resourceful, and equal to every emergency, so he made levy on the quartermaster's department for liberal supplies of mustard, red pepper, ox blood, and other strange materials with which to get in his color effects. The "Camp Floyd Theatre" as it was called, was not a stupendous structure, only large enough to accommodate about two hundred persons, and the stage in proportion to the auditorium. It was built of rough pine boards and canvas--principally canvas--but answered all the requirements of a theatre for the amusement of the camp.