Pioneer Story 31, Robert Reeder (Willie Company)

"Being moved by the spirit of gathering, my father, David Reeder, my sister Caroline, age 17, my sister Eliza and her husband, James Hurren, with their three little girls from ages 2 to 8 years old, and myself, age 19, started for Liverpool, where we met with others from different parts. There were 721 persons very much on the same errand, when we sailed out on the great ocean.

"On the 5th of May 1856, we sailed on the great ocean which took us a little over 6 weeks to cross. I was very sick on the way and could not eat such food as they had on "seafare" which consisted of what they called sea biscuits and salt pork and salt beef, also brown sugar and vinegar and very little other food.

"I got very feeble living principally on sugar and vinegar for 3 weeks. (It was reported that when he arrived in New York, he was so weak through the hardships of the voyage that he could not walk without assistance).

"I was very glad when we arrived at Castle Gardens, New York, where we could get a piece of bread once more. We rested here for a few days then we pursued our journey by railroad and steamboats, changing from one to the other until we arrived at Iowa camping ground where we had to lay over 3 or 4 weeks waiting for our outfits.

"The Church had a herd of cattle there which was at the time a general fitting out place. While laying over we had to herd those cattle night and day. There were lots of us to change off if all would have taken a part, but it was a very rainy country and some would not take their part, especially in the night time. I can well remember those who had charge used to come to us and say, "Will you go and herd again tonight as we cannot get anyone else to go."

"My father and I and my brotherin-law, James Hurren have gone 3 or 4 nights out of a week in the pouring rain, wet through from head to foot and in the water part of the time up to our knees, anything to help get fitted out and started on the road.

"Eventually we got our outfits of 4 wagons with ox team, loaded with flour which was calculated to take us to Salt Lake City making calculations for 60 days and one pound of flour for each grown person per day and half that for all children under 12 years of age. Beside that, we had one wagon with 4 mules loaded with bacon and groceries for the trip and one saddle pony belonging to an elder returning home which was used for hunting camp grounds, and the rest were handcarts about 120 of them.

"As a general rule, one handcart to each family and in some cases, two young men and two young women per handcart. Those with handcarts were loaded with their baggage and children that were unable to walk. The company comprised of about 500 people.

"In this way we traveled to what was called Florence, this side of the Missouri River. We were again detained, waiting for some Independence emigrants who wanted to travel with us as it was very dangerous to cross the Plains in those times one thousand miles of wild Indian country.

"There was one outfit belonging to A.W. Babbit and consisting, I think, of about 5 men, 1 woman, and 1 child about 3 or 4 years old, concluded to start 2 or 3 days before we were ready. I think we left this place about the 20th of Sept with an addition to our outfit of about 30 head of cows, some to give milk, other to kill for beef.

"Our company came to where the Babbit Company had camped the the Indians having killed them all and burned their wagons, nothing being left only the irons and the bodies half buried. This looked very discouraging to us but we traveled on looking back for nothing. We were surrounded by Indians on two or three occasions, but we got out by giving them some flour and tobacco which some of our company had with them.

"When we got out about 300 miles on the road, our cattle stampeded, most all of our best oxen leaving, which left us in a bad state to move on any father. We stayed there for several days hunting as far as we dared to go to find some of our cattle, but could not find any, believing the Indians must have driven them away.

"Some of the flour was taken out of the wagons and put on the handcarts according to the strength of the party drawing them. Some had one (sack), others had two or three. And if my memory serves me right, Brother Hurren, being considered the strongest man the company had, had five sacks put on his cart besides two small girls that were not able to walk and all his baggage and cooking utensils. His wife, my sister Eliza, helped in pulling the cart and walked the entire trail.

"We made up with the few cattle we had left, - one yoke of cattle and one cow to each wagon, and on account of weak teams and handcarts loaded too heavy, we traveled only a few miles each day. Our provisions were going fast while we were making but little headway. Our rations had had to be cut down half and some (people) were sick with bowel and other sickness.

"My father, David Reeder, would start out in the morning and pull his cart until he would drop on the road. He did this day after day until he did not rise early October 7, 1856. He was found dead in his bed and his fellow bed mate had not heard anything all during the night.

"Sister Eliza wrapped a cherished sheet around him and we placed him in a shallow grave, hoping wolves would not disturb. We must be on our way in silent mourning and in a weakened condition.

"Our rations were growing shorter and we reduced them by common consent from day to day. Nights were getting colder and some would sit down by the roadside and die.

"My younger sister, Caroline, 17 years old, after traveling all day and seeing the camp being made for the night, took her apron to tie some sage brush in to bring into camp. She sat down to rest, leaning on her bundle, exhausted. They found her chilled and dying and carried her to camp. She died that night, not gaining consciousness.

"She died the evening of 15 October, 1856. She too, was placed in an unmarked grave near Three Crossings, Sweetwater. Her death was another real loss to us but we must hurry on in threatening weather and colder nights on the Windriver Pass. I think fully 100 died on this trip.

"On Oct 17, we awoke covered with 8 inches of snow and rations about gone. We pulled our carts 16 miles in the blinding snowstorm and arrived at Rock Creek where we sheltered against the hill as best we could to avoid the north wind and blowing snow. Weakened to such an extent and without food, 13 died that night. All the able-bodied men dug one large grave, but not too deep.

"My brother-in-law, James Hurren, held his 8-year old girl, Mary, to see her little playmate lying among the dead. They were laid in the clothes they wore, in a circle with feet to the center and heads out. We covered them with willows and then earth and slid rocks down the hill to keep the wolves from disturbing them.

"Two of the men who helped dig the graves, died that night and were buried near by. We could go no further. The weather was severe and we had not a morsel of food in camp. We had heard that assistance was on the road and we still had hope.

"We had one pony and one mule that were not entirely exhausted and two of the men took these animals and started out to find some relief, which they did after going to Pacific Springs. The relief party had laid over there because of the storm, not knowing the dire distress which the handcart company was in at that time. When they heard the report, they left part of the wagons, doubled up teams and came to us as quickly as possible.

They reached us after we had been in camp 48 hours. They dared not give us food for fear of killing us all, which would most likely have done. For food we had been using rawhide. I myself sat by the campfire with Brother Hurren and scraped and singed the hair off a piece of hide, some that had been taken from discarded handcarts. It was hard but we would boil and soften them and cut them up in small pieces and put in our pockets to chew on the road the next day. It helped to keep life in us.

"Through snow and wind we mostly walked behind the relief wagons about 300 miles to Salt Lake City and arrived on Public Square November 9, 1856. We stopped for about 2 hours and many of the church officials came and talked with us. Then we were given over to the bishops of the different wards. Each bishop took a few, some they saw got some kind of pay for their keep during the winter.

Pioneer Story 30, Ann Jewel Rowley (Willie Company)

(From Ann's Autobiography)
I was left a widow with 7 children under 12 years of age and the step children of William's first marriage. I was very grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the comfort it gave me. I knew that our parting was only temporary and that viewed from the eternities, this was but a fleeting moment. I also knew that no matter how fleeting a moment it was, I had to make the best of it. I had a very real job to do. The children had to be fed and clothed, but the big task and the one I must accomplish, is to get us all to Zion. I must be among the people of my faith and I must get the Temple work done for us.

There came a time, when there seemed to be no food at all. Some of the men left to hunt buffalo. Night was coming and there was no food for the evening meal. I asked God's help as I always did. I got on my knees, remembering two hard sea biscuits that were still in my trunk. They had been left over from the sea voyage, they were not large, and were so hard, they couldn't be broken. Surely, that was not enough to feed 8 people, but 5 loaves and 2 fishes were not enough to feed 5000 people either, but through a miracle, Jesus had done it. So with God's help, nothing is impossible. I found the biscuits and put them in a Dutch oven and covered them with water and asked for God's blessing, then I put the lid on the pan and set it on the coals. When I took off the lid a little later, I found the pan Filled with food. I kneeled with my family and thanked God for his goodness. That night my family had sufficient.

Pioneer Story 29, Samuel Washington Orme (Martin Company)

Samuel’s parents, Samuel and Amy Kirby Orme, first emigrated from England around 1831 to live near Amy’s parents in Ohio. It was at this time that the first gathering of the Saints was occurring in nearby Kirtland. Samuel Orme, Sr. heard some men preaching the gospel in a town near Mentor and was impressed with the truth of their message, though he did not learn the names of the men or the religious sect to which they belonged.

The only son born to Samuel and Amy was born in Ohio on Independence Day. His parents felt that in addition to carrying his father’s name, he should have an additional name suggestive of this great event in American history. Accordingly, he was named Samuel Washington Orme.

Shortly after Samuel’s birth, the family returned to England to assist Grandfather John Orme, who was in his declining years and wished his son to return. The family moved to Coalville where young Samuel remembered his father taking him and his younger sister by the hand and going a short distance to see the first train go through Coalville. Samuel, Sr. was a bookkeeper for the Midland Railway Company.

When Samuel W. was 9 years old his father died. Samuel W. became an apprentice to a blacksmith for the next 7 years and also worked in the nearby coal mine. He was an excellent penman and learned somewhat of his father’s trade, but did not become a bookkeeper. He finally earned enough money at his blacksmith’s trade that he supported his mother and sisters comfortably.

Before Samuel Orme, Sr. died, he reminded his wife about his strong impressions of the preachers back in Ohio. He had studied the Bible, pondered about it, and knew it was true. He told his wife that she must join this church whenever she heard about it. He said, "When you hear the first sermon, you will feel as I feel, that it is true. A strange spirit will come over you, and you shall feel as if the truth of it is burning into your very soul." Only a few months after Samuel’s death, Amy heard of two brothers, John and James Burrow, who were preaching a "strange" doctrine in nearby Whitwick. She took her children to go and hear them and at the close of the meeting she was ready for baptism. She said, "Why, I feel as if my very soul is on fire. I know it is true, although I don’t know where these men got their truths. Yet I know it is the same as my husband heard in America years ago." Amy and her children who were over 8 years of age were baptized at this time. Samuel was active in church work, becoming a local Elder as well as a clerk of that branch. They began to save money to emigrate to be with the other Saints in Utah.

They boarded the ship Horizon in Liverpool with a large company of other Saints bound for Zion under the direction of Edward Martin, a returning missionary. Martin’s handcart company was organized in Iowa City, Iowa. It was the 5th and last handcart company of the year. The Hodgett and Hunt Wagon Companies were following closely along, and assisting as much as possible. However, because of their delayed start and early winter storms in Wyoming, they all suffered together from hunger and cold.

As flour rations were cut, and then cut again before the rescuers came from Salt Lake City, the Orme family was down to four ounces per day per person. Samuel’s courageous mother saw her son quickly weakening. She proposed to her girls that they each cut their own rations even further in order to feed Samuel more. They all agreed to make this sacrifice and it saved Samuel’s life. His sisters and mother also survived, although Rebecca had to have several toes amputated.

Samuel had left his sweetheart, Sarah Cross, in England. She emigrated the next year and she and Samuel were married. They soon moved to Tooele where Samuel became prominent in the community, serving in many positions in the church and community, including mayor of Tooele two terms without pay. He was an earnest advocate for better schools and did much work as a trustee. Samuel died in 1889 at the age of 57.

Call for Ancestors!

Hello Trekkers,

Do you have ancestors from the Martin, Willie, Hunt, or Hodgett companies? If so, please let brother Smith know and he will add their stories to our blog. You are also welcome to post your own stories, photos, or histories.

Thank you.

Bucket Resources Attention All Trekkers!

Pioneer Story 28, Patience Loader (Martin Company)

James and Amy Loader came to America in 1855. James had worked in England as foreman and head gardener for a wealthy gentleman by the name of Sir Henry Lambert. Patience and her eight sisters and four brothers were all born here on this estate where James had worked for 35 years. Somewhere around 185O, the Loaders were baptized members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. James was fired from his job as a consequence. In November 1855, they left for America on the "John J. Boyd" with at least six of their unmarried children, including Patience. Their oldest daughter, Ann (Dalling), had already emigrated with her husband and was awaiting their arrival in Utah.

Patience recorded a rather precarious and interesting experience she had upon her departure from England: "After my parents and my sister and I got all our baggage on board the ship, we found that it would not sail until the next day, so I decided to go back to stay at my married sister's house that night. The next afternoon I went back to the ship and found it ready to depart. The men were just taking away the last plank. There were all my folks standing on deck watching anxiously for me and shouting at the top of their voices, 'For Lord's sake bring our girl on the ship and don't leave her behind.' There was just one plank to walk on from the dock to the ship and father and mother were afraid I should fall off into the water.

"The sailors said, 'Miss, do you think you can walk the plank?' I told them I thought I could, but they thought I might get dizzy and fall off so they were very kind. One man went on the plank before me and took my hand, the second man came behind me on the plank and took my left hand. They said if I slipped they would save me from going into the water . . . There was great anxiety among them when they saw me walking the plank with the sailors, and there was great rejoicing when I was safe on the vessel with them."

The Loader family first went to Williamsburg, New York, where they all worked for a time. Even their daughter, Sarah, who was not yet twelve, worked as a nursemaid in the home of a wealthy family by the name of Sawyer. They left in June of 1856 and traveled to Iowa where they joined with their daughter, Zilpah, her husband, John Jacques, and their one-year-old daughter, Flora. Zilpah was expecting another baby, which was born on the plains in August. This new baby, Alpha, survived as (eventually) the longest-lived member of the Martin Company, but little Flora did not survive the trek. She died about a week before reaching the Valley.

One family record indicates two sons coming to America, but only ten-year-old Robert is listed with the Company. Robert died on the plains. James also died, fairly early in the trek, leaving his wife and daughters to finish the trek alone. The rest of them survived the trek, experiencing many miracles amid their tribulation. James had been faithful and courageous in defending his new faith. One of his greatest wishes was to see his daughter, Ann, in Zion. Surely the Lord granted James this blessing of witnessing his entire family in Zion.

Patience was blessed with a mother who was a very strong woman. She protected, sustained and cheered her children as well as others without complaining, and manifested great faith in God. She put on all the extra clothing she could carry under her own, so when the children needed dry clothing, she always had it, including dry stockings for them after fording streams. As the weather became colder and provisions shorter, they were given four ounces of flour a day for each person. Instead of the usual gruel, Mother Loader made hers into little biscuits and would have them through the day, thus having a bite or two for the children when they were tired and faint.

One day, a man lying by the roadside, when asked to get up, said he could not, but if he had a mouth full of bread he could, so Amy gave him some food and he got up and went on. In Salt Lake some time later, this man stopped Amy and thanked her for saving his life.

After one exceptionally cold night, Amy (whose health was also very fragile), could not get her daughters to arise. She finally said, "Come girls, this will not do. I believe I will have to dance to you and try to make you feel better." Amy struggled to her feet, hair falling about her face as she filled the air with song. Louder and louder she sang, her wasted frame swaying as finally she danced, waving her skirts back and forth. The girls laughed, momentarily forgot their frozen toes and snow-covered blankets, as their mother danced and sang and twirled until she stepped on an ic,v patch and fell in a heap to the ground. Then, Patience wrote, ". . . in a moment we was all up to help our dear Mother up for we was afraid she was hurt. She laughed and said, 'I thought I could soon make you all jump up if I danced to you'. Then we found that she fell down purposely for she knew we would all get up to see if she was hurt. She said that she was afraid her girls was going to give out and get discouraged and she said that would never do to give up."

Patience had a sister, Tamar (22), who was very much grieved when she left England because she had been unable to convert her sweetheart and he remained. One night, while on the plains, after much grieving, she had a dream. The next morning she told her mother that she had dreamed that her sweetheart came and stood beside her and he seemed so real. But he was not alone. Another man was with him . . . In the dream the sweetheart finally faded away but the other man remained. When Tamar first saw Thomas E. Ricks in the rescue party, she took her mother by the arm and said, 'Mother, that's the man." She did marry Thomas Ricks (after whom Ricks college was named).

Patience also had spiritual experiences on her trek. She relates that one day as she was pulling the handcart through the deep snow, a strange man appeared to her: "He came and looked in my face. He said, 'Are you Patience?' I said, 'Yes.' He said, 'I thought it was you. Travel on, there is help for you. You will come to a good place. There is plenty.' With this he was gone. He disappeared. I looked but never saw where he went. This seemed very strange to me. I took this as someone sent to encourage us and give us strength." (The Loader family was met by rescuers at camp that night.)

Patience also wrote: 'We did not get but very little meat as the bone had been picked the night before and we did not have only the half of a small biscuit as we only was having four oz. of flour a day. This we divided into portions so we could have a small piece three times a day. This we eat with thankful hearts and we always as[k] God to bless to our use and that it would strengthen our bodies day by day so that we could perform our duties. And I can testify that our heavenly Father heard and answered our prayers and we was blessed with health and strength day by day to endure the severe trials we had to pass through on that terrible journey before we got to Salt Lake City. We know that if God had not been with us that our strength would have failed us . . . I can say we put our trust in God and he heard and answered our prayers and brought us through to the valleys.”

Trek Orientation Meeting, for Parent's of Youth

May 23, 6:30 pm, R.S. Room
We will go over the:
* Schedule
* Packing List
* Pre-Trek Prep
* Clothing Ideas
* and more

Remember, all trekkers need their 5 gallon buckets (with lids) by May 26th.

Pioneer Story 27, Amy Britwell Loader (Martin Company)

Amy Britwell Loader gave birth to four sons and nine daughters at the estate of Sir Henry Lambert in England, where her husband, James, had worked as foreman and head gardener for 35 years. When the family joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, James was fired from his job as a consequence.

James and Amy brought six of their living children to Zion with them in the Martin Handcart Company. Another married daughter also traveled with this company and gave birth to her second child on the plains. Recorded dreams and heavenly visions sustained and comforted this family, but Amy’s great strength and cheerfulness, manifested again and again over the 1,300 miles, also brought them through, especially when James and one of the grandchildren died.

As the weather became colder and provisions as scarce as 4 ounces of flour per day, Amy made these scant rations into little biscuits to eat throughout the day, thus having a bite or two for the children when they were tired and faint. One day, a man lying by the roadside, when asked to get up, said he could not, but if he had a mouth full of bread he could. As her 10-year-old son, Robert, watched, Amy gave the man some food and he got up and went on. In Salt Lake some time later, this man stopped Amy and thanked her for saving his life.

Amy’s descendants wrote of her, "Amy Britwell Loader protected, sustained and cheered her children and others without complaining and manifested great faith in God.... She endured [the journey] bravely, although it made her a sorrowing widow. She has lived a life of usefulness to the present time, yet still a widow, for she could never believe there was a man left in the world equal to her husband."

John 6:35 And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.

Pioneer Story 26, Edward Martin (Captain of the Martin Company)

Edward was born in Preston, Lancashire, England, November 18, 1818. He joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in England and emigrated to the United States. He was one of the Saints called upon to defend his country as a member of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War. Later he was sent on a mission back to England, and returning from there, he became Captain of the ill-fated Fifth Handcart Company of 1856.

The Fifth Handcart Company actually left Iowa City as two companies. Edward Martin was the Captain of one and Jesse Haven was the Captain of the other. They traveled separately until they reached Florence, Nebraska, where Elder Haven joined the Hodgett Wagon Company, and the two handcart companies combined under Elder Martin.

Captain Martin also brought a wife back with him from England, Eliza Salmon. Their first baby, George, was born August 12, 1856, in Iowa City, Iowa, while waiting for the handcart journey to begin. Edward and Eliza eventually had ten children. Two of Edward's other wives died and Eliza also raised their children.

As the handcart company sought the shelter of the northern mountains in a ravine later to be named Martin's Cove, they had many difficulties. It was a struggle for all of them to keep from freezing to death. Icy winds blew over a number of tents and many of the immigrants died.

One afternoon, Captain Martin, together with two or three other men, set out from the camp at Devil's Gate, when they were surprised by a snowstorm and they lost their way. After wandering about for several hours, the men came near perishing and endeavored to make a fire to warm themselves. They gathered some cedar twigs and struck match after match to light them, but in vain. At length, with their last match and the aid of portions of their clothing, they succeeded in starting a fire. This was seen from the handcart camp, from which, after all their anxious and weary wanderings, they were only about a half-mile distant. Help soon came to the wanderers and the rescuers carried Captain Martin, who was nearly exhausted, back to camp.

There were many deaths in the camp. John Bond, a 12-year-old boy in Martin's company recorded some experiences that give us a small idea of what leadership meant for Edward Martin: ". . . [Some died] lying side by side with hands entwined. In other cases, they were found as if they had just offered a fervent prayer and their spirit had taken flight while in the act . . . Some died sitting by the fire; some were singing hymns or eating crusts of bread . . . Captain Martin stood over the grave of the departed ones with shotgun in hand, firing at intervals to keep the crows and buzzards away from hovering around in mid air."

Peter McBride, a young boy in the Martin Company, later paid tribute to Captain Martin in the narrative he wrote of their trek: "We had to burn buffalo chips for wood, not a tree in sight, no wood to be found anywhere. Just dry earth and rivers. We children and old folks would start early so we wouldn't be too far behind at night. A great many handcarts broke down, oxen strayed away, which made traveling rather slow. Quite an undertaking to get nearly one thousand persons who had never had any camping experience to travel, eat, and cook over campfires. It took much patience for the captain to get them used to settling down at night and to get started in the morning."

John Bond also recorded a time when a sister whose husband was near death and whose two sons were suffering with frozen feet, appealed to Captain Martin, 'Do you think that the relief party will come soon with food, clothing and shoes?" Bond recalls that Captain Martin gave this suffering pioneer woman encouragement by answering, 'Y almost wish God would close my eyes to the enormity of the sickness, hunger and death among the Saints. Yes, Sister Sermon, I am as confident as I live that the President (Brigham Young) will and has dispatched the relief valley boys to us and I believe that they are making all the haste they can, that they are bringing flour, clothing, shoes, etc."

A day or two later, this sister, with faith in Captain Martin's words, was looking into the west. All at once she sprang to her feet and screamed at the top of her voice, "I see them coming! I see them coming! Surely they are angels from heaven."

Edward Martin lived in Salt Lake City and died there at the age of 64, on August 8, 1882. His youngest child was just eight years old. Eliza lived as a widow for 30 more years.

Pioneer Story 25, Levi Savage Jr. (Willie Company)

Levi Savage Jr. (March 23, 1820 – December 13, 1910) is a prominent figure in the history of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was the second of fifteen children born in Greenfield, Huron County, Ohio to Levi Savage Sr. and Polly Haynes. He grew up in southern Michigan as a farm boy, exposed to some degree of schooling. During his lifetime, he was a teamster, soldier, teacher, pioneer, and missionary to India and Burma. He spent the remaining years of his life as a farmer in southern Utah. Levi kept a detailed journal starting 6 October 1852 to 16 March 1903.
Contents.

In the early 1840s his father and mother joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS Church) generally called the Mormon Church. The family moved from Michigan to Nauvoo, Illinois and later migrated as Mormon pioneers to Salt Lake City, Utah in 1847. During the move from Nauvoo, Illinois to Salt Lake City, Utah, Levi Jr. enlisted in the U.S Army as a part of the Mormon Battalion. Levi's enlistment commenced in July 1846 in Company D of the battalion. The battalion marched 1,400 miles from Council Bluffs, Iowa to San Diego, California. Levi's family was a part of the 18 June 1847 Abraham O. Smoot/George B. Wallace wagon train company. Levi's mother, Polly Haynes Savage, died on the trek to Utah. Levi learned of his mother's death after he finished his enlistment with the Mormon Battalion. Levi arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah via San Diego on 16 October 1847, three weeks after the family. Levi married Jane Mathers 23 January 1848. Jane had crossed the plains as the cook for Levi's parents. Levi and Jane had their first and only child Levi Mathers Savage on 11 January 1851. Jane died 29 December 1851 leaving Levi Jr. to raise their infant.

In October 1852, Levi Jr. was called on a Mormon mission to the Far East country of Siam. Levi Jr. left his 21 month old son with his sister Hannah Maria Savage Eldridge while he served a four year mission in the Far East.
Levi left for Siam 21 October 1852 by traveling through Las Vegas, Nevada to Los Angeles, California and then by boat to San Francisco, California. On 30 January 1853 Levi left San Francisco headed for Siam. After the boat left, Levi was struck with small pox but survived the outbreak. Levi arrived in Calcutta, India 25 April 1853 and then went on to Rangoon, Burma. Siam was experiencing a civil war so Levi never reached Siam. Levi served 2 1/2 years in the Far East mission and started home for Utah on 12 October 1855. He traveled from Calcutta, India to Boston, Massachusetts by going around the Cape of Good Hope, South Africa. Levi arrived in Boston 28 February 1856 and went on to Ohio and Michigan to visit family. From his journal Levi writes on 19 June 1856, “I have circled the globe.”

On 10 July 1856 Levi was in Iowa City, Iowa and joined the ill-fated Willie handcart company that was planning to travel to Salt Lake City. Levi was one of the “sub captains” of the group. On 13 August 1856 Levi is quoted as telling the group that going so late in the season was dangerous. According to a narrative of this fatal journey given by John Chislett, when Elder Savage was overruled he said, “What I have said I know to be true; but seeing you are to go forward, I will go with you, will help all I can, will work with you, will rest with you, and if necessary, will die with you. May God in his mercy bless and preserve us.” Over one-fifth of the group died from freezing and starvation before the group arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah on 9 November 1856.

Levi arrived in Salt Lake City after four years. Brother Savage kept an excellent journal of the trek and you can read it by clicking here.

Pioneer Story 24, Sarah Ellen Ashton (Martin Company)

Sarah Ellen's family was converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and they made plans to sail for American. Sarah's parents, William (33 or 34) and Betsy Barlow Ashton (33), their children Betsy (11), Sarah Ellen (10), Mary (4), and Elizabeth Ann (1 or 2), left Liverpool, England in may 1856 on the ship "Horizon".

While at sea (or in Boston), Sarah's sister, Elizabeth, died. The family arrived in America and traveled to Iowa City, Iowa. They had to wait there nearly a month for their handcarts to be finished. they then joined with the Martin Company.

They traveled several weeks and on August 4, 1856, a baby girl, Sarah Ann, was born on the plains in Nebraska. A short time later on August 26, 1856, Sarah Ellen's mother, Betsy, died. Two weeks later on September 11, 1856, the new baby, Sarah Ann, also died.

After this sad tragedy, Sarah's father became discouraged, left his three little girls with the company, returned to New York, and later went back to England. The Saints cared for the little girls as well as they could. They all suffered greatly from food shortages and the lack of warm clothing. Sarah Ellen's oldest sister, Betsy, froze to death. This left Sarah and her sister, Mary, to continue walking on to the Salt Lake Valley. They arrived on November 30, 1856.

They were met by a group of Saints who took them in and cared for them. Later, they found a home with the Hatfield family in Farmington, Utah. They remained there until Sarah married Thomas W. Beckstead when she was 15. Sarah and Thomas had 10 children, four of whom died as infants.

Sarah devoted her life to her children, her husband, and her church. In 1887, the Beckstead family moved to Idaho. Sarah read in the paper where her father was advertising for his family. Sarah Ellen sent to England for him to come and join her family. Sarah's father accepted her invitation and Sarah cared for her father until his death.

Sarah Ellen lived a good life helping the sick and needy. Surely, she learned to trust in God and be forgiving. She lived to be 92.

Pioneer Story 23, Mary Barton (Martin Company)

I was born in Southport, Lancashire, England, January 13, 1842. My mother died when I was a year old. At the age of six, I went to school, but had to stop when I reached my tenth birthday. At twelve I went out to work for my living.

When 14 years old I left England to come to Utah for the Gospel's sake. That was on May 22, 1856.

One day while on the ship, I was in the cooking room getting our dinner. It was so crowded there was hardly standing room. All were cooking their meal. One man was boiling soup in a milk pan. When he took the soup from the stove, he lifted it over my head in order to carry it through the crowd. While doing so, someone knocked against him, and it fell out of his hand on my back. My father stood outside waiting for me to come with the dinner. I ran out to him and said, "I am burned." He said, "Come downstairs and lets get some oil". So we ran down and got one of the Mormon elders to administer to me. My pain had gone, and I never felt any more of it. Some of the soup went on the hands of the man who spilled it on me. He put his hands in a bucket of cold water and wasn't administered to. He not being a convert, he wouldn't hear of having the elders pray for him. His hands were blistered and didn't get well for two weeks.

We had been five weeks on the sea when we landed in Boston. We were very glad to walk on land agin. We left Boston for Iowa and were eight days on the train. When we arrived in Iowa, we had three miles to walk to the camp grounds. It rained all the way, and we were soaking wet when we reached camp that night at twelve o'clock.

We had to stay on the camp grounds five weeks waiting for the handcarts to be made. When everything was ready we started. Traveling through Ohio and Council Bluffs (Nebraska), we had to cross the Missouri River which was about a mile from Florence. At that time so many of our company took sick that we had to camp at Florence for two weeks. Then we started on a journey of thirteen hundred miles across the plains. The people began to get sick and died from drinking muddy water. We had to drink pools of rain water most of the time. While traveling, one of the wagons split and let flour out. The Indians who were nearly starved to death came along behind picking it up and eating it, dirt and all.

One day while we were camped an Indian came to me and asked me to give him my shawl which I had on my shoulders. I told him it was all I had to keep me from freezing to death. He turned and walked away.

The soldiers came and guarded us past Chimney Rock. They stayed with us until we reached Fort Bridger. There they stopped and we had to go on alone. When we got on one side of Devils Gate, we had to rest about a week, and our cattle died. We roasted the feet and the hides. Then we ate them.

Joseph Young came on a donkey to meet us. He told us to come on about three miles further. Then we would meet the Mormons who were coming to meet us with wagons of provisions. They could only carry a small amount because the snow was so deep, and they had to carry grain for their horses.

We started that morning and traveled all day. We got to the Mormon camp about five o'clock. The next morning we started with the Mormons and camped at South Pass that night. After pitching our tents we lay down on the ground to get some sleep and rest. In the night the tents all blew over. It was all ice and snow where I was laying, and when the tents blew off I didn't wake up I was so tired. One man came and looked at me. He called some more men over saying, "I wonder if she is dead?" He patted me on the head and just then I opened my eyes. He jumped back. I tried to raise my head but found that my hair was frozen to the ground. They chopped the ice all around my hair, and I got up and went over to the fire and melted the large pieces of ice that were clinging to my hair. The men laughed to think that I could lie there all night with my hair frozen in the ice, but were very glad that I wasn't dead. This same night the handcarts all blew away, and some of us had to walk until we met some other wagons.

Mrs. Unthanks got her feet frozen and had to have them taken off, but when we met more wagons we could all ride. There were four men in our tent, and all of them died, father dying first. ...

We reached Salt Lake City the last of November, 1856. We were waiting on the streets for people to ask us home with them.

The Handcart Trail, from North Platte River to Salt Lake City

Pioneer Story 22, Aaron and Elizabeth Horrocks Jackson (Martin Company)

From Elizabeth Horrocks pioneer journal.

“I have a desire to leave a record of those scenes and events, through which I have passed, that my children, down to my latest posterity may read what their ancestors were willing to suffer, and did suffer, patiently for the Gospel's sake. And I wish them to understand, too, that what I now write is the history of hundreds of others, both men, women and children, who have passed through many like scenes for a similar cause, at the same time we did. I also desire them to know that it was in obedience of an eternal reward- an exaltation to eternal life in His kingdom- that we suffered these things. I hope, too, that it will inspire my posterity with fortitude to stand firm and faithful to the truth, and be willing to suffer, and sacrifice all things they may be required to pass through for the Kingdom of God's sake.”

The ship that carried the family across the Atlantic landed in Boston on June 30, 1856. After a short stay in Boston, they moved on to Iowa City where they prepared for their journey across the plains in handcarts they built. They were part of the Handcart company captained by Edward Martin. After a long, dreary and toilsome journey the company reached Fort Laramie on the 8th of October. In Elizabeth’s writings we read:

“Our provisions by this time had become very scant, and many of the company went to the Fort and sold their watches and other articles of jewelry. With the proceeds they purchased corn meal, flour, beans, bacon, etc. Hitherto, although a ration of a pound of flour had been served out daily to each person, it was found insufficient to satisfy the cravings of hunger… Shortly after leaving Fort Laramie it became necessary to shorten our rations that they might hold out, and the company be not reduced to starvation. The reduction was repeated several times. First, the pound of flour was reduced to 3/4 s of a pound, then to a half of a pound, and afterward to still less per day. However we pushed ahead. The trip was full of adventures, hair breadth escapes, exposure to attacks from Indians, wolves and other wild beasts. When we reached the Black Hills, we had a rough experience. The roads were rocky, broken and difficult to travel. Frequently carts were broken down and much delay was caused by the needed repairs.”

After leaving Laramie and before reaching the Platte river, Elizabeth’s husband, Aaron was afflicted with mountain fever. He was able to eat more than his rations, but he had no energy. While crossing the Platte he only made it to a sandbar in the middle of the river where he sank down through weakness and exhaustion. Elizabeth’s sister Mary Horrocks Leavitt waded through the water and assisted him the rest of the way. The river was exceedingly cold and while some men carried some of the women on their backs, many women tied up their skirts and waded through like the heroines that they were!

After crossing the river and tremendous storm of snow, hail and wind hit the handcart party adding to their suffering. It was necessary to lighten the loads of the handcarts as well as the wagons carrying the supplies, so a great deal of the bedding and clothing had to be destroyed. Elizabeth tells about the worst night of her life:

“About the 25th of October, I think it was - I cannot remember the exact date - we reached camp about sundown. My husband had for several days been much worse. He was still sinking, and his condition now became more serious. As soon as possible after reaching camp, I prepared a little of such scant articles of food as we then had. He tried to eat but failed. He had not the strength to swallow. I put him to bed as quickly as I could. He seemed to rest easy and fell asleep. Bout nine o'clock I retired. Bedding had become very scarce, so I did not disrobe. I slept until, as it appeared to me, about midnight. I was extremely cold. The weather was bitter. I listened to hear if my husband breathed- he lay so still. I could not hear him. I became alarmed. I put my hand on his body, when to my horror I discovered that my worst fears were confirmed. My husband was dead. He was cold and stiff-rigid in the arms of death. It was a bitter freezing night and the elements had sealed up his mortal frame. I called for help to the other inmates of the tent. They could render me no aid; and there was no alternative but to remain alone by the side of the corpse till morning. The night was enveloped in almost Egyptian darkness. There was nothing with which to produce a light or kindle a fire. Of course I could not sleep. I could only watch, wait, and pray for the dawn. But oh, how those weary hours drew their tedious length along. When daylight came, some of the male part of the company prepared the body for burial. And oh, such a burial and funeral service. They did not remove his clothing- he had but little. They wrapped him in a blanket and placed him in a pile with thirteen others who had died, and then covered him up in the snow. The ground was frozen so hard that they could not dig a grave. He was left there to sleep in peace until the trump of the Lord shall sound, and the dead in Christ shall awake and come forth in the morning of the first resurrection. We shall then again unite our hearts and lives, and eternity will furnish us with life forever more.

“I will not attempt to describe my feelings at finding myself thus left a widow with three children, under such excruciating circumstances. I cannot do it. But I believe the Recording Angel has inscribed in the archives above, and that my sufferings for the Gospel' sake will be sanctified unto me for my good. I could therefore appeal to the Lord alone; fatherless. I appealed to Him and He came to my aid.

“A few days after the death of my husband, the male members of the company had become reduced in number by death; and those who remained were so weak and emaciated by sickness, that on reaching the camping place at night, there were not sufficient men with strength enough to raise the poles and pitch the tents. The result was that we camped out with nothing but the vault of Heaven for a roof, and the stars for companions. The snow lay several inches deep upon the ground. The night was bitterly cold. I sat down on a rock with one child in my lap and one on each side of me. In that condition I remained until morning.

“It will be readily perceived that under such adverse circumstances I had become despondent. I was six or seven thousand miles from my native land, in a wild, rocky, mountain country, in a destitute condition, the ground covered with snow, the waters covered with ice, and I with three fatherless children with scarcely nothing to protect them from the merciless storms. When I retired to bed that night, being the 27th of October, I had a stunning revelation. In my dream, my husband stood by me and said, 'Cheer up, Elizabeth, deliverance is at hand'. The dream was fulfilled.”

On the 28th of October Joseph Young, Daniel Jones and Abel Garr galloped in camp. Those three men were from the relief company sent by Brigham Young from Salt Lake. The camp welcomed them with tears and cheers as they brought word of provisions and clothing waiting for them at Devil’s Gate. After reaching Devil’s Gate the company decided to leave most of the freight there for the winter. The company decided to continue onto Salt Lake. Elizabeth writes:

“It was several days after that - I do not remember the exact date - that we made the last crossing of the Sweetwater. In speaking of that memorable event, Elder John Jaques says: "It was a severe operation to many of the company. It was the last ford the company waded over. The water was not less that two feet deep, perhaps a little more in the deepest parts, but it was intensely cold. The ice was three or four inches thick and the bottom of the river muddy and sandy. The stream seemed to be about forty yards wide. Before the crossing was completed, the shades of evening were closing around, and this, as everyone knows, is the coldest hour of the twenty-four, especially at a frosty time. When the handcarts arrived at the bank of the river one poor fellow who was greatly worn down with travel exclaimed: 'Oh dear, I can't go through that!' His heart sank within him and he burst into tears. But his heroic wife came to his aid, and in a sympathetic tone said, 'Don't cry, Jimmie, I'll pull the handcart for you.' In crossing the river the shins and limbs of the waders came in contact with sharp cakes of ice which inflicted wounds on them which did not heal until long after they arrived in this valley. And some of them are alive, some of them bear the marks of them to this day.

“After this crossing we camped for several days in a deep gulch called Martin's Ravine. It was a fearful time and place. It was so cold that some of the company came near freezing to death. The sufferings of the people were fearful, and nothing but the power of a merciful God kept them from perishing. The storms continued unabated for some days. Said I. K. Hank in speaking of it: 'The storms during the three days were simply awful. In all my travels in the Rocky Mountains, just before and afterwards, I have seen nothing like it - nothing worse.' When the snow at length ceased falling, it lay thick on the ground, and so deep that for many days it was impossible to move the wagons through. I and my children with hundreds of others were locked up in those fearful weather-bound mountains.

The emigrants with the Martin Handcart company finally reached Salt Lake City on Sunday, November 30, 1856. Elizabeth and her children moved to Ogden and stayed with her brother until they were rested and recuperated. Elizabeth married William Kingsford and became a prominent business woman. Elizabeth concludes her writings with these words of faith, courage and gratitude:

“…the Lord has blessed me, and rewarded me with abundance of this world's good, for all my sufferings, and has also blessed me with the highest blessings of a spiritual nature that can be conferred upon man or woman, in His Holy Temple, in mortality. I have a happy home for which I thank my Father in Heaven.”

Pioneer Trek Individual Equipment List

Pioneer Trek Individual Equipment List
All of your gear for the trek will be packed in one of two places: in your 5 gallon bucket or in a large, black, heavy-duty garbage sack. The bucket will contain your personal items and the garbage sack will contain your sleeping items. The total weight of the bucket (excluding the bucket itself) must not exceed 17 pounds. You should have your bucket secured by May 26. Please put your name on a piece of masking tape and tape it to your black garbage sack. Remember, buckets will be decorated during Young Men's and Young Women's on May 26. NO electronic devices allowed other than cameras.

On the morning of departure you need to carry on a sack lunch (and breakfast, if you don't eat it before coming) and a water bottle. You will be carrying and refilling this water bottle throughout the trek.

Things to pack in your BUCKET
[ ] 1 rain poncho
[ ] 1 pair of trek shoes (not new, you'll get blisters)
[ ] 1 pair of shoes to cross the river (flip flops, water shoes, barefoot)
[ ] 3 pairs of socks
[ ] 3 pairs of inner socks (fewer blisters with two layers of socks; nylon works well)
[ ] 2 sets of underclothing
[ ] Bandanas/neck coolers
[ ] Toothbrush and toothpaste
[ ] Modest sleeping attire
[ ] Deodorant
[ ] Bowl, plate, cup, utensils [or mess kit] (no plastic or paper)
[ ] Comb or brush
[ ] 5 bandaids and prescribed medications only
[ ] 1 old set of scriptures and your favorite church magazine
[ ] 2 extra, black, heavy-duty garbage sacks
[ ] Chapstick, sunscreen, and insect repellent (insect repellent needs to work for ticks)
[ ] Moleskin for potential blisters
[ ] 1 fanny pack for Ma's and Pa's (for day trips)

MEN should bring
[ ] 2 pairs of canvas or cotton pants (not Levis/denim)
[ ] 2 long-sleeved shirts
[ ] 1 wide-brimmed western style hat (no baseball or army hats allowed)
[ ] 1 pair suspenders (optional)
[ ] Personal journal/pen

WOMEN should bring
[ ] 2 mid-calf length, long-sleeved dresses, skirts or jumpers with long sleeve shirts
[ ] 1 or 2 bonnets
[ ] 1 pair bloomers (can be made out of old pajama bottoms or hospital pants)
[ ] 1 apron
[ ] Feminine hygiene supplies

Optional Items (everyone)
[ ] Camera
[ ] A pocket knife
[ ] Harmonica or other small musical instrument (does not include iPods or similar items)
[ ] Spray bottle to stay cool (no squirt guns)
[ ] Small package of hand wipes
[ ] Work gloves (these will be nice for everyone else for pushing the handcarts)

Things to pack in a large, black GARBAGE SACK
[ ] 1 warm sleeping bag
[ ] 1 thin pillow
[ ] 1 blanket
[ ] 1 jacket
[ ] 1 thin foam pad (optional)

Pioneer Story 21, Emily Wall (Willie Company)

Emily WALL Born: February 7,1840 in England Age: 16 Willie Handcart Company Sarah Emily (or Emily, as she was called) was the second oldest child in a family of nine. The family joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in England. They wanted to emigrate to America, but they could not afford to send the whole family at once, so they sent the two oldest children first. This was a fairly common practice at the time.

Emily and her brother, Joseph (17), traveled to America on the ship “Thornton.” Apostle Orson Hyde gave Emily and Joseph a blessing before they left England, promising them that if they were true and faithful ‘and obeyed the counsel of those in authority over them, they would arrive in Zion in safety. They started out for Utah well prepared to make the journey on foot, as their mother had purchased 15 pairs of shoes for each of them. When the point was reached that the company could not carry so much, Joseph and Emily discarded part of their clothing, giving to those who were not as fortunate as they.

A few days after leaving Winter Quarters, Nebraska, Joseph became ill. Emily pulled him in the handcart, but he grew worse each day. Finally the company stopped for a time to allow him to recover, but he didn’t. Those in authority said they would have to leave him behind to be picked up or buried by the next company. Emily said that she would not go on without her brother, and she would stay behind as well. The company moved on, but after traveling three miles out, one of the captains decided to go back for them. Emily promised to pull her brother on her cart if he would be permitted to come. Consent was given, and with the aid of a young girl, Emily pushed and pulled her brother in the handcart for many days.

Later, after being stranded and subsequently rescued, Emily became acquainted with one of her rescuers, a young printer by the name of William M. Cowley. In conversation with her, he asked if some day she would marry him. Emily said she didn’t know and told him he would have to write to England and get permission from her mother. After being informed that a letter had been written to her mother and that an answer had come saying it was all right for them to be married, provided he was a good man, Emily consented and they were married in 1860. They became the parents of 12 children.

The journey across the plains was a difficult test for all of the people in the handcart companies. As they were promised by Apostle Hyde, Emily and Joseph made it to the Salt Lake Valley. Joseph regained his health after their arrival. Emily endured the extreme hardship of pulling her brother in a handcart, but was sustained by her great faith in the Apostolic blessing received before leaving England.

Pioneer Story 20, James G. Willie (Captain of the Willie Handcart Company)

James Willie came to America when he was 21 years old. He first heard the gospel preached in Connecticut. He was baptized in 1842 and served his first mission in 1843, traveling and teaching in Vermont, Connecticut and New York. He was gone during the martyrdom of Joseph and Hyrum Smith, and joined the exiled Saints at Winter Quarters, Nebraska, in 1846. In 1852 he returned to England, again as a missionary.* In 1856, after four years away from his wife and three children, President Franklin D. Richards of the European Mission appointed James to be the President of the group of Saints on the ship "Thornton."

Brother Erastus Snow had been at Florence, Nebraska, assisting the returning missionaries and the late handcart companies. An excerpt of a letter Elder Snow wrote to President John Taylor tells a little of what it was like for Elder Willie and his Handcart Company: "Notwithstanding the hurry and bustle of starting off the last companies and closing up the complicated business of the season, it was a joyful termination of the laborous summer work, and a happy meeting with those faithful men of God, who after long years of separation from home and kindred dear, and of faithful toil and labor in foreign lands, are now about to be released from their labors and rest themselves while they journey across the Plains."

The returning Elder Willie surely did not have a restful journey ahead of him! Continuing, Brother Snow writes of Elder Willie and the other returning missionaries, "May the choice blessings of Israel’s God, whom they serve, abide upon them, and speed them on their way to the embrace of their anxious and loving families and friends. May they ever live in the affection of the Saints of God, and the memory of their noble deeds never perish."

James then became the Captain of the Fourth Handcart Company, consisting of about 500 people. They had 120 handcarts, five wagons, 24 oxen and 45 beef cattle and cows. It would be an enormous responsibility and challenge to lead this group of Saints to Utah so late in the season. (They left Florence, Nebraska, about August 18.) James Willie had been over the plains and knew the road. He was a fluent speaker and was well liked by the people.

Near Grand Island, Nebraska, they lost about 30 head of cattle due to a severe storm. Not only did the people lose beef rations and milk cows, they didn’t have enough oxen left to pull all of the provisions. The flour had to be divided and each handcart had to carry another 100 pounds of flour. At Fort Laramie, provisions were not waiting there as expected. James called a meeting to decide what could be done as they were still many miles from Salt Lake, and at their present rate of consumption, all the food would be gone before they reached their destination. The flour allowance was cut from one pound to 3/4 of a pound per day and every effort was made to travel faster.

At Independence Rock it became necessary to reduce the rations even further. The working-men were to receive 10 ½ to 12 ounces, women and old men 9 ounces, children from 4 to 8 ounces, according to age and size, and infants 3 ounces. John Chislett, one of the sub-captains, writes, "Our captain did his utmost to move us forward and always acted with great impartiality."

On October 20, 1856, the Willie Company had come to a grinding halt with the severe snowstorm. The last of the meager rations had been given out the night before. James Willie knew that he must go ahead to find the relief wagons he was sure were out there. He was weak and half-starved, but knew he must save his company. He chose Joseph B. Elder to go with him.

Joseph Elder writes of this, ". . . The snow and an awful cold wind blew in our faces all day. We crossed the Rocky Ridge and upon the west bank of the North Fork of the Sweetwater we found a friendly guide post which pointed us to their camp down upon the Sweetwater in amongst the willows. When they saw us, they raised a shout and ran out to meet us. Great was their joy to hear from us for they had long been in search of us. They could scarcely give us time to tell our story they were so anxious to hear all about us, their camp being 27 miles from ours."

Captain Willie now had the awesome task of traveling back over the 27 miles he had just come to bring relief to his beloved company. Of this, John Chislett (24), wrote: ". . . on an eminence immediately west of our camp, several covered wagons, each drawn by four horses, were seen coming towards us. The news ran through the camp like wildfire, and all who were able to leave their beds turned out en masse to see them. A few minutes brought them sufficiently near to reveal our faithful captain slightly in advance of the train. Shouts of joy rent the air, strong men wept till tears ran freely down their furrowed and sun-burnt cheeks, and little children partook of the joy which some of them hardly understood, and fairly danced around with gladness. Restraint was set aside in the general rejoicing, and as the brethren entered our camp the sisters fell upon them and deluged the brethren with kisses . . that evening . . . the songs of Zion were to be heard in the camp, and peals of laughter issued from the little knots of people as they chatted around the fires."

Somewhat revived, the Willie company pushed on, after sending the majority of the rescue wagons (10) further East to find the Martin, Hodgett and Hunt Companies. On October 23, 1856, the company had their greatest trial, the crossing of Rocky Ridge. It took 27 hours to get the last persons to Rock Creek, a distance of about 15 miles from where they started, through deep snow and a raging storm. At about 11:00 p.m., it was reported that there were many people that had still not arrived into camp. Captain Willie and others "immediately got up some horses, and the boys from the Valley started back about midnight to help . . ." The brave and courageous Captain Willie went back again! The very last of his company was not brought in until 5:00 a.m. Fifteen people were buried before the company left Rock Creek two days later. Thirteen were in a common grave.

Captain James Willie was truly a great leader who showed genuine concern for his fellow travelers. George Cunningham wrote the following as a tribute to James Willie, "Our Captain showed us all a noble example. He was furnished a mule to ride on our start from Iowa City, but he said, ‘I will never get on its back, I will show the example, you follow it.’ He did so and the Captains of hundreds followed him. They would crowd on ahead to be the first into the streams to help the women and children across. They waded every stream, I might say, a dozen times between Iowa City and Green River . . . Their feet were worn and bleeding, they became exhausted and had to be hauled the balance of the way, some of them not being able to stand on their feet." On Nov. 2, near Ft. Bridger, the Willie Co. journal records, "Brother Willie’s feet were in such a bad condition from frost that he was unable to walk to the Camp; a wagon was sent for him."

The Willie Company continued on and with the help of the rescuers, arrived in the Valley on November 9, 1856. A doctor recommended amputation of James’ feet, but his wife skillfully nursed him and he was blessed to keep his limbs. In 1859 James moved to Mendon, Cache Valley, Utah, where he was active in the community. He died in 1895 at the age of 85.

*James inherited a large sum of money while on his mission, due to the death of his brother, John. He used a small amount of this to defray his mission expenses and gave the rest (about £200) to the PEF in order to pay passage for many of these emigrants.

Parent's Meeting Update

The parent's meeting (for parents of all youth going on trek) has been moved to Sunday, May 23 at 6:30 pm. This meeting will be held in the Relief Society Room and will immediately follow the Scout Court of Honor which will begin at 5:45 pm.

We will review the trek agenda, first aid, packing list, conditioning tips and much more. We hope to see you there.

Thank you.

Pioneer Story 19, Robert Mattinson (Martin Company)

At the age of twenty I, with my parents, who had joined the Church in 1847, immigrated to America. We landed at Boston and from there traveled to Chicago by railroad. It was then a mere village. The first night we spent there was the third of July. The noise was terrific, as they were starting to celebrate the Fourth of July.

From there we traveled to Iowa City, where I, with my parents, two brothers and one sister joined the Martin’s Handcart Company and commenced our journey of thirteen hundred miles to Utah.

We crossed the Missouri River and traveled three hundred miles to Florence to refit and lighten our loads. The company set forth from Florence the last of July. On each handcart was placed flour and our clothing, as the wagons would not hold the entire load. At first we traveled fifteen miles a day, although delays were caused by the breaking of wheels and axles, the hear and dryness making many of them rickety and unable to sustain their loads without frequent repairs.

We traveled along, standing guard at night. We had ox teams, which hauled the tents and what provisions we had, and when we came to a sandy, bad road, we helped the teams what we could by pulling. We took turns in herding the loose cattle, and all that were able helped stand guard at night.

There was plenty of game and hundreds of buffalo but too far away to be shot.

We now came to the open prairie country, where nothing could be seen but grass and passed the remains of the outfit of W. A. Babbit, Thomas Margetts and one woman, who were killed by the Indians and everything burned.

There were other companies ahead, and we could read on the bleached buffalo heads how far ahead they were.

Provisions were scarce, and we were cut down to one pound of flour a day. After that, my father began to weaken but never failed to do his share of the work and help pull the handcart. He worked all day with little to eat, and when night came, he gathered wood to build a fire, set up the tent, then went to lie down. When he was called to supper, he could not be awakened. He died that night, but we could tell nothing about his death, only by the breathing and rattling of his throat, as we had no light. He was buried the next morning near Deer creek.

Nights were getting colder and guarding began to be very oppressive. Deaths were frequent. Gradually the old and infirm began to droop, even able-bodied men, a few of them continuing to pull their cars until the day of their death.

Rations were again cut and we had not enough to keep up our strength.

When we reached Laramie, I tried to buy a little food of some kind, but could get nothing but a quart of corn, which we ate without cooking. Traveling began to get very tedious. Every day brought its hardships, fighting against hunger and cold weather and bed covering was not sufficient to keep us warm. It would be midnight, many nights, before all the company would be assembled. Men were detailed to help the weak ones into camp, and many were frost bitten, losing fingers, toes, and ears and dying from exposure.

After leaving Laramie, rations were cut to a quarter of a pound of flour a day, and at one camping ground thirteen corpses were buried. After crossing the North Platte, we had our first snow storm. We could not make distances. Cattle were too poor, so we had to hive up night herding. After the snow, we stopped for two or three days to get rested and grease the carts. Some shod the axles with old leather, others with old tin from their mess outfit, while for grease they used their allowance of bacon and even what soap they had.

We made very short drives. Days were getting shorter and the people weary. The snow fell and many of the cattle were devoured by wolves, while others perished from cold.

Here we saw the first Salt Lake man, Joseph A. Young, the first of the relief party that came to find us. After seeing this brother, it seemed to give the people strength and were allowed a little more flour out of the two remaining sacks.

In the evening as we neared Devil’s Gate, there were many who did not expect to see the light of another day. It had stormed all day and was one of the worst days. We traveled on through the storm and it was hard to keep the people alive. The night was terrible. Part of the stockade was cut down to burn, and the other part was left to shelter us from the piercing cold.

The next evening we crossed Sweetwater to Martin’s Ravine, where there was plenty of cedar wood. The water was waist deep and just freezing enough to let us through the ice. It was a bitter cold night. Some of the relief party that were with us carried the women and children over. People too weary and cold, ate their scanty bit of flour dry. We put up our tent, cleaned out the snow, and that night the wind did not blow.

After leaving this camping ground, we traveled about seven miles a day and it was the first time I did not pull a handcart. The relief party that were with us carried the women and children in their wagons. Even those short distances, it was hardship to walk. Every day brought a few more of the relief party, and from that time on we began to get a little more to eat.

We next stopped at Green River, and the day we crossed, it was given out by the captain that everyone who was able must cross on the ice, the river being frozen over. The weather was bitter cold, but we had good fires as the relief party found the most convenient places where there was wood.

In the meantime there were from seven to ten deaths a night. The next morning they were buried, nothing to put them in but the grave. I was called to help bury the dead. It was a terrible job, as they are buried just as they were dressed.

At last we arrived at the foot of the Big Mountain. The cattle and wagons had broken track, so it was possible for us to walk over, and everyone who was able was ordered to walk. It took just one whole day to get over it, and we camped in between the mountains. It was a cold night and nothing but green willows to burn. But we had plenty to eat for the first time, together with some clothing and buffalo robes for the worst off.

The next day, being the last day of November, brought us into Salt lake, Sunday, November 30, 1856.

Pioneer Story 18, Alice Walsh Strong (Martin Company)

We left on the 26th of July and traveled on the stage road through the State of Iowa, to Council-Bluffs, Iowa; on to 24th of August, a distance of over 300 miles. Next day we ferried the Missouri and made camp at Florence. We left here on the 27th of Aug. for 1,031 miles journey to Salt Lake. My eldest son Robert [Walsh] was never well after we started, and one night after we had camped my husband took one of our quilts and went quite a distance to sell it for something more desirable to eat. He did not recover his health on the journey and died on the way between Laramie and the Devils Gate. My grief at his interment is beyond expression, on account of the location and the certainty that his remains would be molested by wolves.

At night in our tent there would be three couples and six to eight children under eight years of age. The weather after leaving Laramie became very cold at nights, and the hardship on the men having to stand guard six hours every other night was beyond human endurance.

Our rations had to be cut down both for adults and children and the clothing of both sexes becoming in-sufficient for the healthful warmth of our bodies.

Arriving at Devils-Gate about the first of November on account of the nightly fatalities of the male members of our company, for two or three weeks previously, there were many widows in our company and the women and children had to pitch and put up the tents, shoveling the snow away with tin plates etc, making our beds on the ground and getting up in the morning wet with melted snow and lie on our clothing. This hard service continued with all that were able to endure it till we nearly reached the South Pass, and one night I dropped to the ground in a dead faint with my baby in my arms. I had some pepper pods with me and recovering from my stupor I took some of them to warm all and to recover my strength. During these times we had only a little thin flour gruel two or three times a day, and, this was meager nourishment for a mother with a nursing baby.

My husband [William Walsh] died and was buried at or near Devil’s Gate and the ground was frozen so hard that the men had a difficult task in digging the grave deep enough in which to inter him, and nine others that morning, and it is more than probable that several were only covered over with snow. Here I was left a widow with two young children. The boy [John Walsh] became so weak, he could not stand alone and I had to sit and hold both of them in the relief wagons from this on. At times the most of us had to walk after being met by the teams from Salt Lake and late in the day, and toward evening my shoes would nearly freeze to my feet and at one time in taking them off some of the skin and flesh came off with them. Some of the bones of my feet were left bare and my hands were severly frozen.

When the relief help reached us and nearly all of us had been assigned to some wagon I was sitting in the snow with my children on my lap, and it seemed that ther was no chance for me to ride, but before the last teams had left the camp I was assigned to ride in the commissary wagon, and did so until our arrival in Salt Lake City.

The young man in charge of the commissary wagon, was, Joseph B. Alvoard; seemed to be well acquainted with frontier and mountain life and realizing my condition of a widow with two children, he helped me early and late to the best of his ability.

Arriving in Salt Lake Nov. 30th 1856, with two children and the clothes I stood up in, were all of my earthly possessions in a strange land, without kin or relatives; the extra clothing we had started with and pulled on our carts to the Devils Gate, was left there and I never saw it afterwards.

Pioneer Story 17, Peter Howard McBride (Martin Company)

We finally got settled in Southport (England) where my parents first heard the Gospel, and lived there for three years. Father was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the 1st of August 1837 by Orson Hyde, and mother was baptized the 4th of January 1838 by Heber C. Kimball. From that time, our home was open to the elders where services were held, the sacrament administered and many missionaries found a haven of rest. Mother held open house, always had something ready to serve hungry elders and a good bed for them to rest in.

In the year 1856 my father and mother definitely decided to emigrate to America as they had heard of the wonderful place, America is. After leaving their home in Southport, we visited with my mother's people before going on our long journey. We were not treated so very kindly by them. My grandfather said, "I never want to see nor hear from you again. If you should write, your letters will be burned before we read them. I hope you will all be swallowed up in the ocean before you land on that cursed American shore. You bring disgrace to the family name by joining such a church."

We went from my grandparents' house in Manchester by railroad to Liverpool and waited two days for the ship which was to carry us across the ocean. It was a new ship, had only made one trip across the ocean, and was in command of Captain Reed. We sailed for America in April, landed in Boston, May 3rd on my birthday. Part of the Manchester Choir was on board and there was lots of singing. One song in particular being, "We, we won't marry none but Mormons," and when the ship landed, Capt. Reed made a speech to the Saints in which he said, "The song says, I won't marry none but Mormons,' and I will say, if I ever bring immigrants again I'll carry none but Mormons."

All was hustle getting past the customs officers and getting our belongings into the cars and started westward for Zion. We were permitted to ride on the train to Iowa City, the terminus of the railroad at the time. From Chicago, we had to ride in cattle and freight cars. The night we arrived in Iowa, there was the worst storm I ever have experienced, thunder, lightning, rain coming down in torrents. There were wagons to take our bedding and luggage to camp three miles away, but we had to walk. Parents lost their children and children their parents, but we finally got settled in tents for the night, but were all glad when morning came as the sun was shining brightly. It was warm and the people could dry their bedding and clothes. At this place, the company was delayed three weeks waiting for handcarts and the people got very nervous and uneasy at the long delay, as they realized the time was getting short for such a long journey before cold weather set in.

At last the two-wheeled carts were ready, and we were assigned one. It was afternoon when we started. Some grumbled at such a late start, but Captain Henry Martin explained it was wise to just go a short way at first to get the people used to such mode of traveling. Later they could see the wisdom. And so, we traveled across the Iowa plains, crossing rivers, and small streams until we reached the Missouri river at a place they called Council Bluffs. Went on to Florence where a ferry boat took us across the river where we waited several days for the Daniel Tyler Company. It was such a large company that we had to travel slowly across the Nebraska plains. We children and the old folks would start early so we wouldn't get too far behind at night. A great many handcarts broke down, oxen strayed away which made traveling rather slow. Quite an undertaking to get nearly a thousand persons who had never had any camping experience to travel and eat, and cook over a campfire. It took much patience from the captains to get them used to settling down at night to get started in the morning.

So, on we went till we got to the Wyoming line, then it got cold. Our provisions got lower. I remember some men passed us one day, stopped to talk. They gave my baby sister, Margaret (Maggy we called her) some little cookies. She carried them in her little pocket and I was always with her and would tease her for a bite. She would give me a taste once in a while and it was so good. No cake I ever tasted since was so good. My little sister and I were cut down to one ounce of flour a day. The exposure of cold, rain, sleet and snow and ice, pushing and pulling handcarts all day; the scarcity of wood and food, caused many of the strongest men to perish.

When we came to the upper crossing of the Platte, the river was flowing with ice water waist deep and quite dangerous to cross. Four of the strongest men were appointed to take care of each handcart. Lots of women waded the river all right but the children were put on the handcarts. A man by the name of Cyrus Wheelock, just returned from a mission to the Eastern States, was riding a horse. He carried a lot of the children over on it, even helped pull some of the handcarts by a rope fastened to his saddle. One time he had three boys on, one in front and two behind. I was the last boy on that side of the river, thought I would try to wade across. He told me to climb up behind the two boys and hold onto them, which I did. We crossed the river all right, then the horse leaped up a steep bank and I slid off just in the shallow water, held on to the horse's tail and came out all right.

That night the wind was blowing very cold and the carts were all sheltered behind a big cliff, but the snow drifted in the tents being covered up. My father died that night in our tent. He had worked all day pulling, pushing, wading through the icy river, and he made about twenty-five trips across the river helping to get all the people and carts across. My mother was sick all the way and my sister Jenetta Ann had all the worry of taking care of us children. She carried water from the river for cooking purposes; her shoes gave out and she walked through the snow barefoot, actually leaving bloody tracks in the snow. Father was a good singer. He had charge of the singing in our company. The next morning funeral services were held in our tent for him. Cyrus Wheelock was the speaker. Father was wrapped in a sheet, carried out by two men. They laid him on the snow. When they gathered all the dead, they just dragged them across the snow by the feet to the hole made on the river bank where they piled in thirteen men into one grave. They put dirt over them as best they could, then some logs to keep the wolves from getting the bodies.

We didn't travel far the next day. My mother was so sick and my sister Jenetta Ann worn out, but we couldn't stop long for anything. When we got to Sweetwater, we camped. A meeting was held and the people decided we could go no farther, snow so deep and no food. We were doomed to starvation all would stay here and die together. They gave me a bone of an oxen that died. I cut off the skin, put the bone in the fire to roast. When it was done, some big boys came and ran away with it, then I took the skin, boiled it and drank the soup and ate the skin and it was a good supper.

Later we had a terrible cold spell. The wind drifted snow into our tent till we thought we would freeze. I shivered so much I knew I would die. I heard freezing was an easy death. The wind blew the tent down, they all crawled out but me. I began to feel warm and the tent closed down around me, the snow fell on it, I went to sleep and slept warm all night. In the morning I heard some one say, "How many are dead in this tent?" My sister said. "Well there are five children Robert, Ether, Maggy and myself. My little brother Peter must be frozen to death in that tent." So they jerked the tent loose, sent it scurrying over the snow, my hair was frozen to the tent. I picked myself up and came out quite to their surprise.

That day we got word that some teams were coming to meet us from the valley. That night three teams came and reported more on the road and no one but a person having gone through that experience can imagine what a happy moment it was for this belated handcart company. Men, women, and children knelt down and thanked the Almighty God for our delivery from certain death. It put new life into all the people. The next day several teams arrived and there was room for us all to ride, but men had to dear the road of snow before the wagons could make the grade.

We were given food but were told that most of it must be saved for the men who had to get us to the Valley. Fires were made along the road so we could warm at intervals. And when the summit of Big Mountain was reached, everyone could ride down the long hill.

The wagon we were in belonged to Ebenezer Richardson of Ogden City. We finally arrived in Salt Lake City, November 30, 1856; our teamster took us to his sister's place where we were kindly treated. The next day we drove as far as Farmington. The snow was very deep. We stopped at another place that night and oh, how different the treatment. After the older folks were through with supper, there wasn't any food left for us hungry children and we were put to bed haft starved.

Pioneer Story 16, George Frederick Housley (Martin Company)

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."

Pioneer Story 15, Lydia Franklin (Martin Company)

The extreme of the Railway West was Iowa City, 2½ miles from the city was the camp of those Latter Day Saints or Mormons, as you please to call them, in tents and were preparing their outfits to cross the plains with wagons and mules and horses and also ox teams and I think 3 trains or companies of Hand carts for humans to draw weekly supplies like a regiment of soldiers.

The Indians that year were not very peaceful and the Secretart Balbet [Secretary Babbitt] and officials of Utah Territory were killed by the Indians near Fort Kearney not far from the Sand hills. We saw the place and the remains of part of their vehicles and some hair from their heads and parts of burnt clothing where they had been massacred. I think they were the Sioux or Cheyennes. I was just a girl of 14 years of age.

My Mother [Jane Franklin] was sick with fever and ague and she had a bed springs and Mattress placed on 2 trunks in the ambulance. My Father [Thomas J. Franklin] drove 2 span of mules to haul the ambulance to haul the sick and aged. Her bed was placed on the back across the ambulance. We had to travel as far as we could every way as we were very late in the season to make it through before winter set in.

I was a healthy young girl. I was very troubled for fear of losing my Mother. I walked from Iowa City to Council Bluffs, crossed the Missoura [Missouri] river there and that was the last house of civilization till we reached the sweet water ran through a natural arch at Devils Gate where there were a couple or more of log houses where emigrants stored goods they could not take on that year to have them come the following year by paying storage and cost of delivering to the owners. Not far from there I saw 9 bodies interred in one deep large gravel pit just wrapped in any piece of cloth or canvas that could be procured near in the sand hills close to Fort Kearney on or near the Platte River on the way to the great Salt Lake City.

On the next morning I was sitting front of the ambulance and looking up the road that we would have to travel I saw two or three men with packed horses or burros coming toward us. I called Captain Martin to bring his glasses to see who they were. They seemed to me to be white men. They proved to be a party looking for us. They had left their wagon and had started to find us.

They had principally clothing for us but there was wagons loaded with provisions and everything needed for to help the poor emigrants. When the Captain told the People that help was coming to relieve us and to help us through the Mountains and we would travel on as soon as possible and meet the parties and would reach our journey's end, it was a sight to behold to see the old and young go right to those men and almost try to pull them off their horses and caress them for their goodness in trying to help them to the land of promise.

We had to travel over two mountains before reaching Salt Lake City. One called the large Mountain and one the little Mountain. All that could was ordered to walk as it was hard pulling for the animals. They built fires here and there to warm by. It was Sunday Noon just as the Latter Day Saints were coming out of their church and Brigham Young had told the people to meet us and all that could possibly help us to take those poor souls to their homes and help them; give them food and clothes and shelter till they could help themselves.