Individual

death-date-qualifier-death

David Blair

birth-date-qualifier-birth

Albert Jones notes, circa 1906

Albert Jones notes, circa 1906.

The Emigrants made hand Carts at Iowa Paul Gourley



Left Iowa Camp July 28th 20 days lost// here 
Two companies—one under Edward Martin[;] one under Jesse Haven



<s>18-4/7 miles per day to make the 1300 in 70 days</s>



Arrived at Florence 22nd August



<s>average travel 12 miles per day</s>



Companies consolidated in one Edward Martin &amp; Daniel Tyler Capts.



Left Florence August 25th 1856 for the 1000 miles journey



576 men[,] women and Children



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">146 Hand Carts 
Wagons 
4 to the Cart—5 of us</center>



 



Two wagon Companies behind us 
Benjamin Hodgett 
John A[.] Hunt



Company provisioned for 60 days



100# flour being given to each Cart for transportation



Sep 2 Col Alma [Almon Whiting] Babbit[t]—Thomas Margetts &amp; Child—James Cowdy &amp; wife and others killed—Mrs. Margets carried away by Indians.



Isaac Brockbanks mother



The March



Bro Evans the fourth death[.] tin cup record[.] Mother on the lead



&lt;above&gt; Passed near the spot where A W Babbitt was killed 
Too many meetings for prayer &amp; preaching 
Moses Cluff and the Buffalo



Danl Tyler and the Mules



The girls and boys courting



The buffalo Chips—the dainty chins



John Watkins[,] Brother Compsan



The Hymn—Come come ye Saints



Oct 8th At Larimie. Over Coat 
Flour[,] Bacon[,] Apples &amp; Peaches



The Tennant Cattle driving and guarding



The people getting weary with the work— 
John Jacques [Jaques] night adventure



The Appetites—



The 20th October crossing the North Platte



The first snow storm—which reached West to the Wasatch range and the great gloom



Snowed three days



The Songs of Zion



The deaths increasing[,] McBride 
Old Scotch Man 
his toes out of snow



Our Tent—the death of Jackson



callous to death



Dug the grave of a young man while he walked by its side[,] 14 in this Grave[,] Red Butte



Stone and the Wolves—a foot in a shoe brought to Camp—



 



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">Juvenile #23 Jan -1-88</center>



 



John Watkins &amp; the Ox



Oct 28—Rescued:: Joseph A Young 
Daniel W Jones 
Abel Garr



The big blue &lt;Government over&gt; Coat



The scene in Camp at the Rescue



Young girls eating toasted raw hide—as girls do gum 
Bread Making—Bed making 
Tents[,] Cyrus H. Wheelock 
Snow 1½” 
&lt;Fry Pans&gt;: for shovels [-] 
Rescuers[:] David Garr 
George D Grant 
Robt J Burton 
Charles Decker 
W H Kimball 
Reddick N[ewton] Allred



The crossing of the Sweet Water



W[illiam] S Binder hauls my hand Cart through—



The axle broke 
Kimball carried me over—



S. S. went on



I remain &amp; get another Cart and took on our things



The Council at Devils Gate



Cyrus H Wheelock’s address



10 men stay at Devils Gate with the goods of Hand Cart—People and of the Wagon Companies



Rested at Martins Ravine 2 or 3 days



The accidental burning of John Jacques [Jaques] Record



 



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">one third died</center>



 



[Edmund] El[l]sworth &amp; [Daniel D.] McArthur 497 Souls—100 Carts 5 Wagons 
Jas D [James G.] Willie &lt;66 died&gt; 500 Souls—120 Carts—6 Wagons 
[Edward] Martin &amp; [Daniel] Tyler, 576 Souls, 146 Cars—7 Wagons



1856 Five hand Cart Cos. 
[Edmund] Ellsworth—[Daniel D.] McArthur—[Edward] Bunker—Willie ([Edward] Martin &amp; [Daniel] Tyler)



Timing the People time of death 
S S Jones and Eph Hanks



The feet of the People frozen



[irrelevant data]



The life Guardsman [David] Blair buried at Quaken Asp hill



The survival of the fittest 
Martins Lot the toughest of all 
My Vow behind the Log fire



The American Axe:



Nov 28<s>28</s>th over the Big Mountain 7000 to 8000 Altitude[,] the Oxen [illegible] 8 ft Snow

Transcript for Albert Jones notes, circa 1906

Cache Valley historical material, circa 1955

Elizabeth Whittear (Sermon) Camm reminiscence

"Elizabeth Whittear (Sermon) Camm reminiscence", Cache Valley historical material, circa 1955.

Among one company that arrived were some very dear friends, which I did not expect to see; but which made my heart rejoice. They were Brother and Sister Binder; they have ever been good, kind friends to me and my heart is full of gratitude to them and many others. But I am not telling you about my journey; there are many incidents which I do not remember. We at last bought our cart, paid our emigration from Iowa to Salt Lake City, started with my husband, myself and childredn [children], John, age nine, Henry, seven; Robert, five, and Marian three. Seventy-five pounds of bedding and other clothing, three days’ provisions and one cart with tents and another with poles and bake kettle, my little girl and boy in the cart. My heart was happy and I rejoiced and sang the songs of Zion. My only hope and desire was to reach the Valley where my childredn could be raised in the true Gospel. There was a little I forgot to state, that was our cloth<s>e</s>ing had to be sold at auction on the camping grounds, as the wagon which was to have brought our luggage and the childredn and sick, was loaded down with merchandise. My bed, sixty pounds, was sold for four dollars, my sheets, boots, shoes and my clothing, but a basque were sold. I remember my old dress split every time I stooped. I had no stockings or shoes. Well, I kept up pretty well; work was hard, bed was hard, but still my shoulders were to the wheel and I think I pulled first fate [rate] for a beginner in shafts. They said, “Sister Sermon will get to Zion; she draws well.” I think it was my faith did it mostly, but it weakened some before my journey was completed, but not lost. Each day we increased in miles, and as I thought, journeyed like the Children of Israel, full of good feelings and song. When we got out on the prairie, they emptied a wagon of flour and put one hundred pounds on each cart, which we had to draw, and our children walked. We were very hungry, but did not dare touch only our allowances, one pound for each adult and one fourth for each child. I would make a scone cake, but we could eat it all in one meal. My husband’s health began to fail and his heart almost broken to see me pulling in shafts. Myself and childredn hungry, almost naked, footsore, and himself nearly done for. Many trials came after this. My oldest boy had the mountain fever, we had to haul him in the cart, there was no room in the wagon. One day we started him out before the carts in the morning to walk with the aged and sick, but we had not gone far on our journey before we found him lying by the roadside, unable to go farther. I picked him up and put him on my back and drew my cart as well, but could not manage far, so put him in the cart, which made three children and my luggage. My husband failing more each day, the captain put a young man to help me for a short time. My other son Henry walked at seven years old, thirteen hundred miles with the exception of a few miles, which some farmers who lived between Iowa and Florence, Nebraska, would take up the children that had to walk and bring them along for a few miles, and some of them kindly gave them food to eat which I have no doubt was well received by the way in which it soon disappeared. I felt glad for my boy as I have no doubt most mothers would. I will here state there was no time crossing the rivers to stop and take off clothing, but had to wade through and draw our carts at the same time with our clothes dripping wet[,] had to dry in the sun and dust as merrily on our way we go until we reach the valley, oh, like a herd of stock or something worse. I was thinking the handcart system was not very pleasant, yet I thought it was the fault of the captain, but I had to learn that which I had not calculated on. Some days we made good time, some days a cart would break down or a child would be missing or a death or more than one would happen, but in a few weeks we had to witness many deaths, many sorrows. Our food was giving out, cold weather chilled the body, the result death. One fourth pound of flour for adults, two ounces for a child, starvation for us. We had to make porridge with our flour as the allotment was too small to bake bread. Many cruel and painful things happening, the dying and dear all around us, poor souls would sit down by the roadside and would never move again until carried into camp on handcarts by someone. It is a wonder any of us lived through it. My dear husband’s health still failing, a young woman by the name of Caroline Marchant assisted me with the cart. I believe she married a Bishop Herrick of Ogden. I have heard nothing of her since we stopped at the Devil’s Gate to cache the church merchandise. We stayed several days. Not far from here the captain called us together to tell us we must lay our bodies down. Were we willing to do so for the Gospel’s sake? Many poor half-starved men shouted with what remaining strength they had, ‘Aye”. But mothers could not say that and were quiet. We went back to our tents, food would have suited us then. My faith was in my Heavenly Father; I never lost that faith in Him. It is as sweet today to trust and my prayer is may I always trust Him. He is a friend that has never failed. My poor husband’s sufferings have always pained me and I never can forget them. Poor Rob’s feet began to freeze. I cannot remember the place; it was after wading a very deep river, the freezing commenced. We had no wood but sagebrush. I went out and cut the sage to keep the fire all night. Covered them up with their feet to the fire and cut some more and kept the fire as well as I could. My clothes froze stiff. Well, we got through that night. Your father could not walk now. He would get into wagon after wagon, only to be turned out. The cattle were giving out and everyone had their friends, but the friend, death, would soon end his sufferings. John and Rob had to ride, Henry walked, your father would take my arm and walk a little distance, fall on his knees with weakness. We moved from Devil’s Gate. I believe it was Brother David Kinball [Kimball] who carried us over a river. And a great many more besides us. My poor husband blessed him for so doing. After our food had given out as I said before we went to our tents to die. I always thought I could get through to Salt Lake City and I tried to encourage my husband, but he was starving. He had always lived good at home. There was a shout in camp. Brother Joseph A. Young had come on packed mules with Brother Little. Brought flour, meat and onions. I got one pound of flour and some meat and two onions. I chopped the fat off the meat real fine and made some dumplings. We made a good meal and blessed Brother Little and Joseph from the bottom of our hearts. Whenever I think of them my heart is filled with gratitude. We had seventy miles to get to the wagons that had been sent from Salt Lake City with food and clothing, and some clothing had come for us. Your father, after having some food and clothes, seemed to revive. He called you to him, and told you to be good children and to do all you could for me, and then he said to me, “God bless you, Eli,” that being the name he called me. “You have saved my life this time.”



I said, “We must hold out now and get to the wagons,” but we had to go back to the quarter of pound of flour and he sank under it. I think he would not have died if he had got food, but he was spared the trial ahead. We went to bed about three o’clock. He put his arm around me and said, “I am done,” and breathed his last. I called Brother John Oley. We sewed him up in a quilt with his clothes on, except his boots, which I put on my feet and wore them into Salt Lake City. A coat I put on John to keep him warm, which afterward went to Fort Bridger. Some friend tried to get it for me but did not succeed. Father was buried in the morning with two more in the grave. I stood like a s statue, bewildered, not a tear; The cold chills, even now as I write, creep over my body, for I feel I can still see the wolves waiting for their bodies as they would come down to camp before we left. Well, I went again into the cart as all that could had to walk to get to the wagons. Poor Rob had to ride from this time and sometimes John. Henry and Marian were with me. When I got into camp I would clear the snow away with a tin plate, gather my wood, get my bed clothes from the wagon—I was too weak to haul much—get my allowance of flour and carry the children to the fire, make their beds on the ground. The tent was frozen and the ground so hard we could not set it up. I think it was two weeks we were without tents. We went to bed without supper in order to get a little better breakfast. I found it some help to toast the raw hide on the coals and chew it; it helped to keep the hunger away, for I was feeling it rather keenly now. I had to take a portion of poor Robert’s feet off which pierced my very sould [soul]. I had to sever the leaders with a pair of scissors. Little did I think when I bought them in old England that they would be used for such a purpose. Every day some portion was decaying until the poor boy’s feet were all gone. Then John’s began to freeze; then after a while my own. We kept meeting some teams from Salt Lake City now, which rendered all the assistance they could. I remember asking one of the drivers to give me a cob of corn to eat. He looked so pitiful and said, “Oh, sister, I hate to refuse you but my horses haven’t enough to eat now, and I do not know how we will get back to Salt Lake.”



I said, “I ought not to have asked you, but myself and children are so hungery.”



He said, “Keep up your faith, sister.”



A loaf of bread would have given me great faith and satisfied a hungry stomach as well, but the bread was not many miles off. We got it and it was the sweetest bread we ever ate. One instance occurred. Poor brother [David] Blair had been in the life guards in London, I believe, a very tall thin man; he was starving and was eating a piece of griddle cake; another poor brother not as hungry asked for a piece of it. He said, “I cannot do it; I want it myself.” Poor fellow, he died in the night and so one after another passed away. Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers and friends, many, many honest souls laid in mother earth. The brothers kept meeting us and some times we had a good cheery fire built for us when we got into camp. I was terribly put to for clothes to wrap my poor boy’s legs in, his feet all gone. I got all I could from the camp, then I used my underclothing until I had but two skirts left on my body, and as such I finished up my journey for my wardrobe would not be replenished where I was. At last the old handcart was laid by without a regret; we got to the wagons, were taken in and some days we rode all day and got a little more food. A severe storm came up. I think it was on the Sweet Water, but I was so troubled I forget all about the names of the places. My eldest boy John’s feet decaying, my boys both of them losing their limbs, their father dead, my own feet very painful, I thought, “Why can’t I die?” My first thought of [d]eath, Brother Patton took us in his wagon, blessed me for my integrity and blessed us with tea and bread and so with what food that was so kindly sent out to us from the people in Salt Lake, our lives were spared. On a bright Sunday morning we were met in Emigration Canyon by hundreds of people in buggies and wagons and horseback to see us. We stopped near the tithing house, many had their friends to meet them and take them to their homes. Nobody came for me.

Transcript for Elizabeth Whittear (Sermon) Camm reminiscence in Cache Valley historical material, circa 1955

Cache Valley historical material, circa 1955.

Deseret News

Immigration to Utah

"Immigration to Utah", Deseret News, October 15, 1856, Page 6.

Transcript for "Immigration to Utah," Deseret News, 15 October 1856, 254

Deseret News.

Elizabeth W. [Sermon] Camm letter, San Francisco, California, to My Dear Children

Elizabeth W. [Sermon] Camm letter, San Francisco, California, to My Dear Children, March 1892.

Transcript for Elizabeth W. [Sermon] Camm letter, San Francisco, California, to My Dear Children, 1892 March 16

Elizabeth W. [Sermon] Camm letter, San Francisco, California, to My Dear Children.

"Ephraim K. Hanks' Narrative," in Andrew Jenson, "Church Emigration," Contributor 14, 5

"Ephraim K. Hanks' Narrative," in Andrew Jenson, "Church Emigration," Contributor 14, 5. The Contributor, 1893. Page 18.

EPHRAIM K. HANKS’ NARRATIVE:—In June, 1891, when visiting the Sevier Stake of Zion in the interest of Church history, I became acquainted with Elder Ephraim K. Hanks, who resides in Pleasant Creek, (in the Blue Valley Ward), now in Wayne County, Utah. He related to me the following:



“In the fall of 1856, I spent considerable of my time fishing in Utah Lake; and in traveling backward and forward between that lake and Salt Lake City I had occasion to stop once over night with Gurney Brown, in Draper, about nineteen miles south of Salt Lake City. Being somewhat fatigued after the day’s journey, I retired to rest quite early, and while I still lay wide awake in my bed I heard a voice calling me by name, and then saying: ‘The hand-cart people are in trouble and you are wanted; will you go and help them?’ I turned instinctively in the direction from whence the voice came and beheld an ordinary sized man in the room. Without any hesitation I answered ‘Yes, I will go if I am called.’ I then turned around to go to sleep, but had laid only a few minutes when the voice called a second time, repeating almost the same words as on the first occasion. My answer was the same as before. This was repeated a third time.



“When I got up the next morning I said to Brother Brown, ‘The hand-cart people are in trouble, and I have promised to go out and help them;’ but I did not tell him of my experience during the night.



“I now hastened to Salt Lake City, and arrived there on the Saturday, preceding the Sunday on which the call was made for volunteers to go out and help the last hand-cart companies in. When some of the brethren responded by explaining that they could get ready to start in a few days; I spoke out at once saying, ‘I am ready now!’ The next day I was wending my way eastward over the mountains with a light wagon all alone.



“The terrific storm which caused the immigrants so much suffering and loss overtook me near the South Pass, where I stopped about three days with Reddick N. Allred, who had come out with provisions for the immigrants. The storm during these three days was simply awful. In all my travels in the Rocky Mountains both before and afterwards, I have seen no worse. When the snow at length ceased falling, it lay on the ground so deep that for many days it was impossible to move wagons through it.



“Being deeply concerned about the possible fate of the immigrants, and feeling anxious to learn of their condition, I determined to start out on horseback to meet them; and for this purpose I secured a pack-saddle and two animals, (one to ride and one to pack), from Brother Allred, and began to make my way slowly through the snow, alone. After traveling for some time I met Joseph A. Young and one of the Garr boys, two of the relief company which had been sent out from Salt Lake City to help the companies. They had met the immigrants and were now returning with important dispatches from the camps to the head-quarters of the Church, reporting the awful condition of the companies.



“In the meantime I continued my lonely journey, and the night after meeting Elders Young and Garr, I camped in the snow in the mountains. As I was preparing to make a bed in the snow with the few articles that my pack animal carried for me, I thought how comfortable a buffalo robe would be on such an occasion, and also how I could relish a little buffalo meat for supper, and before lying down for the night I was instinctively led to ask the Lord to send me a buffalo. Now, I am a firm believer in the efficacy of prayer, for I have on many different occasions asked the Lord for blessings, which He in His mercy has bestowed upon me. But when I, after praying as I did on that lonely night in the South Pass, looked around me and spied a buffalo bull within fifty yards of my camp, my surprise was complete; I had certainly not expected so immediate an answer to my prayer. However, I soon collected myself and was not at a loss to know what to do. Taking deliberate aim at the animal, my first shot brought him down, he made a few jumps only, and then rolled down into the very hollow where I was encamped. I was soon busily engaged skinning my game, finishing which, I spread the hide on the snow and placed my bed upon it. I next prepared supper, eating tongue and other choice parts of the animal I had killed, to my heart’s content. After this I enjoyed a refreshing night’s sleep, while my horses were browsing on the sage brush.



“Early the next morning I was on my way again, and soon reached what is known as the Ice Springs Bench. There I happened upon a herd of buffalo, and killed a nice cow. I was impressed to do this, although I did not know why until a few hours later, but the thought occurred to my mind that the hand of the Lord was in it, as it was a rare thing to find buffalo herds around that place at this late part of the season. I skinned and dressed the cow; then cut up part of its meat in long strips, and loaded both my horses with it. Thereupon I resumed my journey, and traveled on till towards evening. I think the sun was about an hour high in the west when I spied something 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 hand-cart company, led by Captain Edward Martin. I reached the ill-fated train just as the immigrants were camping 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 about slowly, shivering with cold, to prepare their scanty evening meal, was enough to touch the stoutest heart. When they saw me coming, they hailed me with joy inexpressible, and when they further beheld the supply of fresh meat I brought into their camp, their gratitude knew no bounds. Flocking around me, one would say, ‘Oh, please, give me a small piece of meat;’ another would exclaim, ‘My poor children are starving, do give me a little;’ and children with tears in their eyes would call out, ‘Give me some, give me some.’ At first I tried to wait on them and handed out the meat as they called for it; but finally I told them to help themselves. Five minutes later both my horses had been released of their extra burden—the meat was all gone, and the next few hours found the people in camp busily engaged cooking and eating it, with thankful hearts.



“A prophecy had been made by one of the brethren that the company should feast on buffalo meat, when their provisions might run short; my arrival in their camp, loaded with meat, was the beginning of the fulfillment of that prediction; but only the beginning, as I afterwards shot and killed a number of buffalo for them as we journeyed along.



“When I saw the terrible condition of the immigrants on first entering their camp, my heart almost melted within me. I rose up in my saddle and tried to speak cheering and comforting words to them. I told them also that they should all have the privilege to ride into Salt Lake City, as more teams were coming.



“After dark, on the evening of my arrival in the hand-cart camp, a woman passed the camp fire where I was sitting crying aloud. Wondering what was the matter, my natural impulse led me to follow her. She went straight to Daniel Tyler’s wagon, where she told the heartrending story of her husband being at the point of death, and in pleading tones she asked Elder Tyler to come and administer to him. This good brother, tired and weary as he was, after pulling hand-carts all day, had just retired for the night, and was a little reluctant in getting up; but on this earnest solicitation he soon arose, and we both followed the woman to the tent, in which we found the apparently lifeless form of her husband. On seeing him, Elder Tyler remarked, ‘I can not administer to a dead man.’ Brother Tyler requested me to stay and lay out the supposed dead brother, while he returned to his wagon to seek that rest which he needed so much. I immediately stepped back to the camp fire where several of the brethren were sitting, and addressing myself to Elders Grant, Kimball and one or two others. I said: ‘Will you boys do just as I tell you?’ The answer was in the affirmative. We then went to work and built a fire near the tent which I and Elder Tyler had just visited; next we warmed some water, and washed the dying man, whose name was [David] Blair, from head to foot. I then anointed him with consecrated oil over his whole body, after which we laid hands on him and commanded him in the name of Jesus Christ to breathe and live. The effect was instantaneous. The man who was dead to all appearances, immediately began to breathe, sat up in his bed and commenced to sing a hymn. His wife, unable to control her feelings of joy and thankfulness, ran through the camp exclaiming: ‘My husband was dead, but in now alive. Praised be the name of God. The man who brought the buffalo meat had healed him.’



“This circumstance caused a general excitement in the whole camp, and many of the drooping spirits began to take fresh courage from that very hour. After this the greater portion of my time was devoted to waiting on the sick. ‘Come to me,’ ‘help me,’ ‘please administer to my sick wife,’ or ‘my dying child,’ etc., were some of the requests that were made of me almost hourly for some time after I had joined the immigrants, and I spent days going from tent to tent administering to the sick. Truly the Lord was with me and others of His servants who labored faithfully together with me in that day of trial and suffering. The result of this our labor of love certainly redounded to the honor and glory of a kind and merciful God. In scores of instances, when we administered to the sick, and rebuked the diseases in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, the sufferers would rally at once; they were healed almost instantly. I believe I administered to several hundreds in a single day; and I could give names of many whose lives were saved by the power of God. But I will only give the details in one more instance.



“One evening after having gone as far as Fort Bridger I was requested by a sister to come and administer to her son, whose name was Thomas. He was very sick indeed, and his friends expected he would die that night. When I came to the place where he lay he was moaning pitifully, and was almost too weak to turn around in his bed. I felt the power of God resting upon me, and addressing the young man, said: ‘Will you believe the words I tell you?” His response was ‘Yes.’ I then administered to him, and he was immediately healed. He got up, dressed himself, and danced a hornpipe on the end-board of a wagon, which I procured for that purpose. But notwithstanding these manifestations of the Lord’s goodness, many of the immigrants whose extremities were frozen, lost their limbs, either whole or in part. Many such I washed with water and castile soap, until the frozen parts would fall off, after which I would sever the shreds of flesh from the remaining portions of the limbs with my scissors. Some of the emigrants lost toes, others fingers, and again others whole hands and feet; one woman who now resides in Koosharem, Piute Co., Utah, lost both her legs below [t]he knees, and quite a number who survived became cripples for life. But so far as I remember there were no fresh cases of frozen limbs after my arrival in camp. As the train moved forward in the day time I would generally leave the road in search of game; and on these expeditions killed and dressed a number of buffaloes, distributing their meat among the people. On one occasion when I was lagging behind with a killed buffalo, an English girl by the name of Griffin gave out completely, and not being able to walk any further, she lay down with her head in the snow. When I saw her disabled condition I lifted her on my saddle the horse being loaded with buffalo meat, and in this condition she rode into camp.



“Soon more relief companies were met and as fast as the baggage was transferred into the wagons, the hand carts were abandoned one after another, until none were left.



“I remained with the immigrants until the last of Captain Martin’s company arrived in Salt Lake City on the thirtieth of November, 1856.



“I have but a very little to say about the sufferings of Captain Martin’s company before I joined it; but it had passed through terrible ordeals. Women and the larger children helped the men to pull the hand-carts and in crossing the frozen streams, they had to break the ice with their feet. In fording the Platte River, the largest stream they had to cross after the cold weather set in, the clothes of the immigrants were frozen stiff around their bodies before they could exchange them for others. This is supposed to have been the cause of the many deaths which occurred soon afterwards. It has been stated on good authority that nineteen immigrants died one night. The survivors who performed the last acts of kindness to those who perished, were not strong enough to dig the graves of sufficient depth to preserve the bodies from the wild beasts, and wolves were actually seen tearing open the graves before the company was out of sight. Many of the survivors, in witnessing the terrible afflictions and losses, became at last almost stupefied or mentally dazed, and did not seem to realize the terrible condition they were in. The suffering from the lack of sufficient food also told on the people. When the first relief teams met the immigrants, there was only one day’s quarter rations left in camp.”



 



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">Andrew Jenson.</center>

Transcript for "Ephraim K. Hanks' Narrative," in Andrew Jenson, "Church Emigration," Contributor 14, 5 (March 1893): 202-205

"Ephraim K. Hanks' Narrative," in Andrew Jenson, "Church Emigration," Contributor 14, 5.

Jones, Albert, [Reminiscences], Deseret Evening News

Jones, Albert, [Reminiscences], Deseret Evening News, September 1, 1906.

It is all right, now it's over, past and gone. President Young was desirous for the good of the Saints and anxious that these goodly vales should be filled with the people of his faith, hence the coming to Zion with handcarts was projected and with all the trials of the route, we sang in good faith the hymn.



<blockquote xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">How well the Saints rejoice to tell 
And count their sufferings o'er. 
When they upon Mount Zion dwell 
And view the landscape o'er.</blockquote>



But the Donner lake disaster and the Martin and Tyler handcart company, bring remembrances that are not of a very pleasant order. As a boy of 15 and the youngest of a family of five, my experience cannot be compared with fathers of families, whose heart strings were freated and jarred, when perchance a boy of six years with his big blue eyes filled with tears asked for bread.



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">THE START.</center>



The sturdy men and women of English pluck and courage, left the Iowa camp ground in good spirits. Their handcarts were a light burden, nerved as they were with the "spirit of the gathering." But with the first snow storm came a contraction of the muscles of the face, which gave an expression to the features of the men denoting that they were now about to enter a struggle with snow and frost which would take all their energy to conquer.



As the days grew shorter and colder and the snow's were more frequent, it became a struggle of human endurance to keep body and soul together.



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">AT GIANT FALLS.</center>



Old men succumbed in the severity of the weather and died. A Brother Blair , one of the Royal Life Guards Blue of her majesty, the British queen, was with us, whose grand physique and gigantic frame was the admiration of us boys of the London branch, whenever he attended meeting in his regimentals. With the lack of proper nourishment, he dwindled down to a wreck, both mind and body; his wife, to keep him from giving up, willow in hand, drove him about camp to fetch wood or water, as she required it for camp use. He died and was buried under a big tree on Quakenasp hill.



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">HEROIC WOMEN.</center>



The women of the company bore the strain well; free from night guard and other cares which were on the men, they endured the privations of the journey with less loss to their ranks.



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">SLEEPING BY A CORPSE.</center>



I well remember waking up very early one morning, after I had been on guard in the fore part of the night, with my feet nearly touching the corpse of a brother Jackson—they told me he was dead—and I laid back for another sleep, so little terror had I for death in his frequent visits to our camp.



So apparent was the sentence of death written on the lantern-jawed expression of some of the half starved men and boys who died, that I could tell how long they would stand the ordeal.



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">THE NEXT TO GO.</center>



One boy about my own age was walking up and down by a large grave, I was helping to dig. I read in his face, that he would be interred there unless we moved on before two days had passed—we stayed there four—he was buried in that grave.



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">A BLUE-WINGED ANGEL.</center>



It was at this place that Joseph A. Young arrived as the leader of the relief party sent from the valleys by President Brigham Young—he rode a white mule down a snow covered hill or dug way. The white mule was lost sight of on the white background of snow, and Joseph A. with his big blue soldiers' overcoat, its large cape and capacious skirts rising and falling with the motion of the mule, gave the appearance of a big blue winged angel flying to our rescue.



The scene that presented itself on his arrival I shall never forget; women and men surrounded him, weeping, and crying aloud; on their knees, holding to the skirts of his coat, as though afraid he would escape from their grasp and fly away. Joseph stood in their midst drawn up to his full height and gazed upon their upturned faces, his eyes full of tears. I, boy as I was, prayed "God bless him."



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">THE HUNGRY FED.</center>



His coming gave us a pound of flour that night instead of the four ounces we had issued to us for several days past. The next morning we left this camp where we had been about four days and had buried about 14 of our number.



<center xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">A KEY TO HEAVEN.</center>



I have heard that a lady well known among the saints, once said, while the surest way of getting to Heaven was under discussion. "When I approach the Golden Gate, Peter will at once grant me admission when I cry, "Handcarts!"



I have crossed the plains once with a hand cart, twice with ox teams, once in a palace car. I prefer the latter, but if pulling a hand cart a thousand miles shall help in opening the Golden Gate, I shall urge my claim.



 



ALBERT JONES

Transcript for Jones, Albert, [Reminiscences], Deseret Evening News, 1 September 1906, 20

Jones, Albert, [Reminiscences], Deseret Evening News.

Patience L. Archer reminiscences

Patience L. Archer reminiscences, Page 57-92.

Transcript for Patience L. Archer reminiscences, undated, 57-92

Patience L. Archer reminiscences.

Perpetual Emigrating Fund Company financial accounts, 1849-1886

Perpetual Emigrating Fund Company financial accounts, 1849-1886, Vol. B, Page 246.

Perpetual Emigrating Fund Company financial accounts, 1849-1886.

Salt Lake Tribune

Strong Men, Brave Women and Sturdy Children Crossed the Wilderness Afoot

Josiah Rogerson, "Strong Men, Brave Women and Sturdy Children Crossed the Wilderness Afoot", Salt Lake Tribune, January 4, 1914.

Transcript for Josiah Rogerson, "Strong Men, Brave Women and Sturdy Children Crossed the Wilderness Afoot," Salt Lake Tribune, 4 January 1914

Salt Lake Tribune.

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The Saints' Herald, April 10, 1895.

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