In the year of 1856, I with mother left our native land England, with about 600 others for our America "The Zion of Our God," on the good ship "Horizon," spending five weeks in our voyage to Boston. Where we took passage on a steamboat to Iowa. Awaiting there for three weeks for our hand-carts to be made that were to carry our "all" across the vast stretch of the plains to Utah. Each family supplying themselves with the necessary food for their journey if they were well. At Iowa City, where we were camped, a gentleman told me that we would starve to death if we went there at this season. One of our people and his family decided to stay over. I became tempted to do likewise and upon telling my mother that we better stay she became much depressed in spirit and told me to wait a little while. During the time she prayed to Our Heavenly Father for guidance. One fellow traveler, after deciding to stay, sent out one day in the woods to hunt for game, and while away was seized with fever and ague. He hurried home and upon entering the tent where mother I were awaiting him, he laid upon the cot and commenced singing in poetry and rhyme, telling mother to take me with her to the valley and that we should get through alright. Mother told me she had made it a matter of prayer and by this means her prayers were answered. I told her then that we would go to the valley at all hazards because I was satisfied all would be well.
Upon the company starting we were in line with our cart and ready. All went well as we joyously sang, "For some must push and some must pull as we go marching up the hill. As merrily on the way we go, until we reach the valley, Oh!" As days wore on, our spirits lagged as we became weary. Some of our people became sick and were compelled to ride, thus compelling others to be more heavily loaded. Provisions commencing to get scarce as the days wore on, necessitating our captain to put us on shorter rations. Many dying by the wayside where they were buried each night where we camped and their graves were left unmarked except by our tears. At this season and at this part of the plains it commenced getting cold, and were again placed on shorter rations of 4 ounces of flour to each person per day. We traveled to the Sweet Water River where we camped, being so weak and exhausted that it was almost impossible to move . Many of our people while there died of starvation, while others froze to death by the wayside.
A man from London by the name of Stone, while trying to get to an Indian camp was devoured by wolves; when found by some of our camp, nothing was left of him but his legs inside his boots.
Receivers were sent out from the Valley to assist us in and could not find us, thinking we were lost on the plains the rescue party concluded to return to the Valley. But one of their number stated that he would go to the States but what he would find us. About noon a horseman was seen coming into our camp, and he looked like an angel to us poor starving emigrants who had eaten nothing but flour for three days. With words of encouragement he entreated us to make another start. But, many, while their will was good, their strength failed them and they dropped and froze to death by the way.
The relief party returned and met us and assisted us with some provisions. But scores of our brethren and sisters died and were left in unmarked graves by the wayside. At this time I was permitted to sleep in a tent with two of my companions. Each of them dying by my side where I slept by them 'till morning when they were taken away and buried. In a later trip across the plains to assist the emigrants at one of our camps I saw many of the bones of my companions that had been dug up by the wolves. At the time of my companions death I became despondent through weakness that I longed for death and tried to hide myself from the company that I might die, but one of the brethren returning back for something, found me sitting behind the rock where I had hoped to die. He took me along with him for a day before we caught up with the company. I was permitted to sleep in a wagon that night, where I slept with a dead man all night.
The next day we were permitted to see and enter into the Valley (November 29, my birthday). Although I was too weak to walk, my feet being much swollen I wrapped them in my mother's shawl until we were taken care of by kind friends who were awaiting us. But brother Slack, our kind friend, would not allow me only a limited amount of bread as he was afraid it would kill me. But after they had gone to meeting I finished up the whole pot pie which had been prepared for the family, and I am alive yet and I have been hungry to this day."
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