Aaron Jackson (1854 - 1935) Profile

Aaron Jackson Jr. (1854 - 1935) Profile

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Individual

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Aaron Jackson, Jr.

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First Presidency missionary calls and recommendations 1877-1918

First Presidency missionary calls and recommendations 1877-1918, September 30, 1890.

First Presidency missionary calls and recommendations 1877-1918.

Missionary Department missionary registers, 1860-1959

Missionary Department missionary registers, 1860-1959, Vol. 1, Page 109, Line 252.

Missionary Department missionary registers, 1860-1959.

Missionary Department missionary registers, 1860-1959, Vol. 2, Page 117, Line 252.

Elizabeth H. Kingsford autobiographical sketch, undated

Elizabeth H. Kingsford autobiographical sketch, undated.

The handcarts, or many of them, were built on wooden axles instead of iron; and with leather boxes. We expected to find these vehicles already at hand on our arrival at Iowa City. Thus work consumed between two and three weeks of time, in which we should have been wending our way to Salt Lake City. There were two companies which contained about five hundred and fifty-six persons. There were one hundred and forty-six handcarts, seven wagons and six mules and horses, fifty milk cows and beef animals. There was one wagon loaded with goods for the Church. To each of these two companies were apportioned a mule team, and two wagons hauled by oxen. These were to carry the commissary stores, tents, etc. On July 15th the company left Iowa City under the captaincy of Elder James G. Willie, for Florence, a distance of 277 miles. At Florence, the two hand-cart companies were consolidated. Edward Martin was appointed Captain and Daniel Tyler was his assistant. On August 25th the camp broke, travelled about two miles and then camped.



On the 27th of August we made a final start from Cutlers’ Fork, on our long tedious journey across the vast plains of a thousand miles to our future home. We continued our toil day after day, pulling our handcarts with our provisions or rations, our little children, etc., through deep sands, rocky roads, or fording streams. It was a dreary journey. Many miles each day were traveled ere, with tired limbs we reached camp, cooked supper, ate and retired for the night to rest, to pursue our monotonous course the following day.



On the 7th of September near Soup [Loup] Fork, we were overtaken and passed by Apostle F. D. Richards, C. H. Wheelock and other returning missionaries from Europe. About the middle of this month we learned that A. W. Babbitt had been killed by some hostile Indians.



After toilsome and fatiguing travel, we reached Laramie on the 8th day of October. Here we rested for a short time. 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., with which to replenish their stores of food which had become very scant. 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; but the weary pilgrims were then about to experience more deprivations in this direction. We rested a couple of days and then resumed our toilsome march. Shortly after leaving Fort Laramie it became necessary to shorten our rations that they might hold out, and that the company be not reduced to starvation. The reduction was repeated several times. First, the pound of flour was reduced to three-fourths 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.



During the time of leaving Laramie and reaching the Platte, my husband had been taken sick. He was afflicted with mountain fever. His appetite was good and he could eat more than his rations. But his ambition was gone. All attempts to arouse him to energy or much active exertion were futile. On the 19th of October the last crossing of the Platte River was reached; but when we went into camp that noon my husband was not there. Two of the company went back to look for him. They found him sitting by the roadside, resting. He was very weak. They assisted him into camp. When we resumed our journey he was put in to a wagon, and rode a few miles to the bank of the river, when it was discovered that the teams had become so weak they were unable to haul the freight across the stream, so my husband was compelled to alight.



“The River” says Elder John Jaques, “was wide, the current was strong, the water was exceedingly cold and up to the wagon bed in the deepest parts, and the bed of the river was covered with cobble stones.” Some of the men carried some of the woman on their backs or in their arms, but others of the women tied up their skirts and waded through, like the heroines that they were, and as they had gone through many other rivers and creeks. My husband [Aaron Jackson] attempted to ford the stream. He had only gone a short distance when he reached a sand bar in the river on which he sank down through weakness and exhaustion. My sister, Mary Horrocks Leavitt, waded through the water to his assistance. She raised him up to his feet. Shortly afterward, a man came along on a horseback and conveyed him to the other side of the river, placed him on the bank and left him there. My sister then helped me to pull my cart with my three children and other matters on it. We had scarcely crossed the river when we were visited with a tremendous storm of snow, hail, sand and fierce winds. It was a terrible storm from which both the people and teams suffered. After crossing the river, my husband was put on a handcart and hauled into camp; and indeed after that time he was unable to walk, and consequently provision had to be made for him to ride in a wagon. As soon as we reached camp, I prepared him some refreshment and placed him to rest for the night.



From this time my worst experience commenced. The company had now become greatly reduced in strength, the teams as well as the people. The teams had become so weak that the luggage was reduced to ten pounds per head for adults, and five pounds for children under eight years. And although the weather was severe, a great deal of bedding and clothing had to be destroyed—burned—as it could not be carried along. This occurence very much increased the Suffering of the company, men, women and children alike.



On the 20th of October we traveled, or almost wallowed, for about ten miles through the snow. At night, weary and worn out, we camped near the Platte River, where we soon left it for the Sweetwater. We were visited with three days more snow. The animals and immigrants were almost completely exhausted. We remained in camp several days to gain strength. 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 previous 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. About 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 until 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 dreary hours drew their tedious length along. When daylight came, some of the male part of the company prepared the body for burial. And ho, such a burial and funeral service. They did not remove his clothing—he had but little. They wrapped him ain [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 morniing 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’s sake will be sanctified unto me for my good. My sister Mary was the only relative I had to whom I could look for assistance in this trying ordeal, and she was sick. So severe was her affliction that she became deranged in her mind, and for several days she ate nothing but hard frozen snow. I could therefore appeal to the Lord alone; He who had promised to be a husband to the widow, and a father to the 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 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 and 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. My sick sister, the first part of the night, climbed up hill to the place where some men had built a fire. She remained there until the people made down their beds and retired, to sleep, if they could. She then climbed or slid down the hill on the snow, to where there was another fire which was kept alive by some persons who were watching the body of a man who had died that night. There she remained until daylight.



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 childen 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.



“The 28th of October,” says John Ja[c]ques in his history of this journey, “was [a] red letter day to the handcart expedition. On that memorable day, Joseph A. Young, Daniel Jones and Abel Garr galloped unexpectedly into camp amid tears and cheers and smiles and laughter of the emigrants. Those three men being the express from the most advanced relief company from Salt Lake, brought the glad word that assistance, provisions and clothing were near, that ten wagons were waiting at the Devil’s Gate.” Thus you see, my dream and my husband’s prediction were fulfilled.



The next day we left the Platte and started for the Sweetwater country, On the 31st of October another grand surprise met us. On reaching Greasewood Creek, we met George D. Grand [Grant], R.F. Burton, Charles Decker, Chauncey G. Webb and some others, with six wagons of flour, etc. sent from Salt Lake.



On the First of November we arrived at the Sweetwater bridge, some five miles from Devil’s Gate. We arrived there about dusk in the evening. We camped in about a foot and half of snow. It was a busy evening before bed time in clearing away the snow. For this purpose many used cooking utensils, plates and other things. The ground was hard and almost impenetrable; and it was with the greatest difficulty that the tents could be erected. It became a question that night, whether we should camp there for the winter or go forward to Salt Lake Valley. It was decided to go on. At Devil’s Gate the freight was left, as the teams were too weak to haul it. It was left in charge of Daniel W. Jones, Thomas M. Alexander and Ben Hampton, with seventeen emigrants to guard it through the winter.



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 than 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 every-one 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: “Have we got to cross here?” Being answered “Yes” he again 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 E.K. Hank[s] in speaking of if [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.



Elder Hanks gives the following graphic pen pictures of his first meeting with Martin’s company which he with others had been sent to relieve, and which some of them had given up for lost, believing that they had perished in the storms. “I think” he said, “The sun was about an hour high when I spied somethin[g] in the distance that looked like a black streak in the snow. As I got near to it, I perceived it moved, then I was satisfied that this was the long looked for handcar[t] company led by Captain Martin. I reached the ill-fated train just as they had camped for the night. The sight that met my gaze as I entered their camp can never be erased from my memory! The starved forms and haggard countenances of the poor sufferers, as they moved slowly, shivering with the cold to prepare the evening meal, was enough to touch the stoutest heart. When they saw me coming they hailed me with joy inexpressible.”



Children, I was there, Martha Ann was there, Mary Elizabeth was there, they, my daughters, and Aaron, my son.



Elder Hanks had killed some Buffalo meat which he distributed among us. We eagerly devoured it.



I will not continue this narrative much longer, but will hasten to convey us to our destination. We came by easy stages the remainder of the journey, and finally reached Salt Lake City at mid-day on Sunday, November Thirtieth, 1856. Thus ended the ever memorable overland voyage from the Missouri River to the Capital of Utah, in the eventful year of 1856.

Transcript for Elizabeth H. Kingsford autobiographical sketch, undated

Handcart Veterans Association. Handcart Veterans Association scrapbook, 1906-1914, folder 6

Handcart Veterans Association. Handcart Veterans Association scrapbook, 1906-1914, folder 6.

Historical Department journal history of the Church

Historical Department journal history of the Church, 1830-2008, November 30, 1856, Page 66-68.

Historical Department journal history of the Church.

Jackson, Aaron, [Reminiscences], in "Utah Pioneer Biographies," 44 vols., 15:2-7

Jackson, Aaron, [Reminiscences], in "Utah Pioneer Biographies," 44 vols., 15:2-7.

"We reached Iowa City by train, July 8th. We had expected to find our handcarts already for us but instead we had to delay two <or three> weeks to make them. Instead of iron axles they were poorly constructed of wood. The boxes were of leather.
	"There were two companies organized containing 556 persons, 146 handcarts, seven wagons, six mules and horses, fifty milch [milk] cows and beef animals. There was one wagon with goods for the L.D.S. Church at Salt Lake City. To each of the two companies was apportioned a mule team and two wagons hauled by oxen to carry tents, stores, etc.
	"On July 15th the company left Iowa City for Florence, Neb., 277 miles away. At Florence the two companies were consolidated. Edward Martin, was made captain, and Daniel Tyler, his aide. On August 25th we broke camp and traveled two miles. On August 27th we left Cutler's Fork.
	"On September 7th when we were near Soup [Loup] Fork we were overtaken and passed by Apostle F.D. Richards, C.H. Wheelock, and other returning missionaries. We learned that A[lmon]. W. Babbitt had been killed by Indians. Apostle Richards encouraged the companies to move on although some were wondering if we could get across the plains and over the mountains before winter set in, as autumn was already with us and had barely got a good start. The apostle and the missionaries were traveling light with a fast outfit of horses and soon passed us and got to Salt Lake weeks before we reached South Pass.
	"On October 8th we reached Fort Laramie. Our provisions were beginning to run low so some of the converts who had money or jewels took them to the fort and exchanged them for food.
	"We had been poorly outfitted from the first and when our food supply got low we were reduced to one half pound of flour per person per day.
	"On October 19th we got to the last crossing of the Platte river. My father was very sick. He was too ill to walk so they gave him a ride in a wagon. When we got to the river the teams were too weak to ford the stream and he had to wade.
	"The weather turned off very cold. The people were hungry and weary. Their shoes were wearing out and many were barefooted. My mother's sister, Mary Horrocks Leavitt, became ill and was deranged her mind from the hardships. While mother carried us children across, her sister helped my father wade through the cold waters of the Platte.
	"Then a terrible storm set in. We struggled along as best we could. My mother told how the chilled and tired company would join in singing that famous old Mormon hymn, 	Come, Come ye saints, no toil nor labor fear, But with joy wend your way; 	Tho hard to you this journey may appear, grace shall be as your day. 	'Tis better far for us to strive, Our useless cares from us to drive; 	Do this, and joy your hearts will swell-All is well! All is well! 
	"It was after this crossing that a terribly foolish thing was done. The carts were heavily laden with clothing, bedding and other equipment. The people were getting so weak they could hardly pull the carts. Instead of making camp there as they were forced to do a few miles further on when the snow got too deep, they actually piled up great heaps of clothing and bedding and burned them. Those precious quilts and coats would have been greatly appreciated a few days later, but the great mistake was made. Instead of caching the goods or just leaving it by the wayside, they destroyed it so it was impossible to go back and get it when it was sorely needed a few miles further on.
	"On October 20th the company walked ten miles in the snow and camped near the Platte river about where it leaves the Sweetwater. For three days snow fell and we remained in camp. Then on again. On October 25th we stopped at sundown, and the men put up the tents. My father died in the tent that night. My mother discovered he was dead about midnight and called for help, but none could come to her aid, so she had to lie there by the corpse all night.
	"The next morning they put him and thirteen other dead persons in a great pile and covered them with snow. The ground was too hard to dig graves.
	"Many took sick and died along that weary trail. Nearly one hundred fifty lives were lost from cold and starvation as that company of inexperienced English people, unused to the wilderness, tried to make their way through deep snow over the Rockies, by way of the Sweetwater and Southpass.
	"The men became so weak and so few remained that they could not put up the tents. My mother related that one night when it was bitterly cold she was too weak to find wood or make a fire. Sitting by the cart on a stone she clasped her three little children to her and sheltered them with her shawl as best she could. Holding me on her lap with my sisters at her side she remained that way all night, a widow, cold and hungry in a strange land. While the wolves howled and sharp wind chilled the heart the poor travelers somehow managed to keep on going.
	"On October 28th Joseph A. Young, Daniel Jones and Abel Garr, galloped into camp from Salt Lake City amid the cheers and tears of the sufferers. They brought news that relief was coming and that Brigham Young had ordered wagons to come to our aid from Utah.
	"The next day we started up the Sweetwater. On October 31st, at Greasewood creek, George D. Grand [Grant], R.F. Burton, Charles Decker, Chauncey G. Webb and others with six wagons of flour from Salt Lake, met our company.
	"On November 1st, we got to the bridge of the Sweetwater, five miles from Devil's Gate, Wyoming. There was a foot and a half of snow on the ground. The travelers had to scrape it away from the ground with cooking utensels in order to make a place to camp.
	"At Devil's Gate we left Daniel W. Jones, Thomas M. Alexander, and Ben Hamilton and 17 others to guard a cache of freight we left there. Several days after that we came to the last crossing of the Sweetwater. The water was two feet deep and there was three or four inches of ice. When the people and carts tried to cross, the ice broke, plunging them into the cold water, the jagged pieces of ice cut their legs and feet, and many of them left blood on the snow and bore the scars to their death.
	"One poor chap, when he saw the stream broke down crying, and said, 'Do we have to cross here? I can't! His wife said, 'Jimmie, I will pull the cart for you'. Luggage had long since been reduced to ten pounds for adults, and five pounds for children.
	"Then we camped for several days at Martin's Ravine. There is a monument there now to commemorate the suffering of that place. There were several days of storm and it was impossible to move. E.K. Hanks said he had seen nothing worse in his years in the wilderness. He had killed a buffalo and he gave us some meat to eat.
	"Finally we got over the South Pass, and down to Fort Bridger, and into Utah. We reached Salt Lake, Sunday, November 30th.

Transcript for Jackson, Aaron, [Reminiscences], in "Utah Pioneer Biographies," 44 vols., 15:2-7

Josiah Rogerson, "Martin's Handcart Company, 1856," Salt Lake Herald-Republican

Josiah Rogerson, "Martin's Handcart Company, 1856," Salt Lake Herald-Republican, November 10, 1907.

Transcript for Josiah Rogerson, "Martin's Handcart Company, 1856," Salt Lake Herald-Republican, 10 November 1907

Josiah Rogerson, "Martin's Handcart Company, 1856," Salt Lake Herald-Republican.

McBride, H[eber] R[obert], "Tounge nor Pen Can Never Tell the Sorrow: Heber McBride Describes the 1856 Martin Handcart Disaster," Crossroads Newsletter, spring 1994, 3-4

McBride, H[eber] R[obert], "Tounge nor Pen Can Never Tell the Sorrow: Heber McBride Describes the 1856 Martin Handcart Disaster," Crossroads Newsletter, spring 1994, 3-4.

was taken to Iowa and their we had to stay 3 or 4 weeks before we could start our journey as we were coming with handcarts[.] their seemed to be bad Management some where[.] got started and arrived at winter quarters of Mormon fame now called Florence[.] their we had to stay for 3 weeks through some more bad management[.] their was 7 of us in familey and all we had was one little handcart and that got to be to much for us before we got through[.] their were some wagnos to haul provisions for the Company and if any was sick to haul them and they did for a while but Mother took chills and fever[.] then our trouble began[.] she would walk as far as she could by holding on to the cart then we get her in to one of the wagons[.] the baby [aged two and turned three on the journey] we had to haul all the way[.] the next one was 6 years old then one 8 but they walked all the way till the snow got so deep they coulden they coulden walke but while the weather was good we got along very well but when food got scarce and it began to get cold the men began to give out[.] teams gave out and so many sick and dieing that they couldent all ride[.] then we were reduced to ½ pound of flour a day for grown people and 4 ounces for children under 12 years old[.] Father at last gave out and in the morning Father and Mother would start out to walk till one would give out and sit down or lay down till we came along and get them on the cart and till the other one was give out[.] then the one that was on the cart was rested then we would take the other one and one would walk by holding to the cart and we would not get into camp till after dark and we had to wade all the streams and the weather was getting very cold and snow falling a little everyday or 2[.] one morning I got father in a wagon and that was the last time we saw him alive[.] I went after we got the tent up but it was snowing very hard and I couldent find him so you will have to immagin how we felt[.] their were 3 other men in our tent[.] Wm Barton and wife and 2 children[,] 1 girl like my sister 15 or 16 years old[,] and 2 old men and my F[a]ther all died in one night[.] I think the 2 old men died like Father did[.] I went in the morning and found my father ded and frozzen stif covered in snow[.] whether he was dead and was put there or how he got there will never be known[.] tounge nor pen can never tell the sorrow and suffering[.] my sister[,] I and Mrs Barton got father to the tent[.] their was 2 families their in the snow and hardley anything to eat but their were men enough to bury the dead[.] Aran Jacksons father died at the same time[.] prhaps you know him[,] he lives on the bench there[in Ogden?] 13 men died that one night and all piled into one pit[.] all died by hardship and starvation and the snow and the cold was something awful and our clothing all about dun[.] when we went to bed we dident hav bedding to keep is warm[.] I have wondered many times since how it was we everd lived for my sister and I used [to] pray we could die to get out of our misery[.] the oxen began to die and then was di[s]tributed among the people[,] rawhide and all[.] we was then at the last crossing of the platte river[.] had to stay there several days so many dieng but had to try it again[.] when we got away from the river the snow was not so deep and before we got to sweetwater we met 5 teams from Utah but they came so much farther than they expected to that they were nearly out of provisons but they were workers[.] the[y] put the tents up and got wood and took care of Mother and the 3 little ones[.] we got to Devels [Devil's] Gate[.] it was so cold all day we could hardley make it but when we got there the tents were up and big fires burning[.] Sister and I cried for joy[.] it seemed so nice to have nothing to do but when we got up in the morning the snow was 18 inc[hes] deep and the north wind blowing hard and cold but the men came and took the tent down and fixed our load on our cart and they went ahead and broake the road[.] went about 2 miles and turend and crost s[w]eetwater[.] when we saw that we felt very bad to think we had to ford that stream and I dont think we could have made it in our week[e]ned condition but when we got there we was very much suprised for there were some men there[.] they carried us across[.] we went into a cove in the mountain and got out of the wind and when we got there the tent was up and Mother and Mrs barton [were] sitting by a good fire[.] the history of the Church says we onley staid their 2 days but that is a big mistake and I dont care who wrote it and I find they pas over the hand cart blunder very light for right their more died than any where on the road[,] for we was reduced to 4 ounces of flour and children 2 ounces[.] just think of it[,] out of a company[of] nearly 500 people[,] 144 dead and it looked like we would all die but some more teams came from Utah [and] then our trouble ended as far as handcarts was conserned for we left them all there[.] soon met more teams then we all got to ride and got to Utah[.] [I] was taken to Sammiul [Samuel Ferrin's] ferrins Ogden Dec 1856 taking about 7 months to make the trip and the family is all alive now in 1923 after all our hardship and our ages range from 68 to 83[.] take what you want from this tho as it may not be just what you want 
[Signed] H[eber] R[obert] McBride

Transcript for McBride, H[eber] R[obert], "Tounge nor Pen Can Never Tell the Sorrow: Heber McBride Describes the 1856 Martin Handcart Disaster," Crossroads Newsletter, spring 1994, 3-4

Perpetual Emigrating Fund, Financial Accounts 1849-1886, Ledger B

Perpetual Emigrating Fund, Financial Accounts 1849-1886, Ledger B, Page 250.

Perpetual Emigrating Fund, Financial Accounts 1849-1886, Ledger B.

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Macclesfield, Cheshire, England, United Kingdom

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Martha Ann Jackson

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Aaron Jackson, Jr.

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