Guglielmo Giosue Rossetti Sangiovanni (1835 - 1916)

Guglielmo Giosue Rossetti Sangiovanni (1835 - 1916) Profile

Missionaries at the Paris Exposition

Individual

death-date-qualifier-death

Guglielmo Giosue Rossetti Sangiovanni

birth-date-qualifier-birth

Missionary Department missionary registers, 1860-1959

Missionary Department missionary registers, 1860-1959, April 27, 1864, Vol. 1, Page 5, Line 207.

Missionary Department missionary registers, 1860-1959.

Switzerland Zurich Mission history, 1850-1977, Church History Library

Switzerland Zurich Mission history, 1850-1977, Church History Library, August 10, 1864, Vol. 4.

Switzerland Zurich Mission history, 1850-1977, Church History Library.

Bitton, Ronald Davis, Guide to Mormon Diaries & Autobiographies, [1977]

Bitton, Ronald Davis, Guide to Mormon Diaries & Autobiographies, [1977], Page 307.

Bitton, Ronald Davis, Guide to Mormon Diaries & Autobiographies, [1977].

Our Pioneer Heritage

Our pioneer heritage, Vol. 11, Page 199-200.

Our pioneer heritage, Vol. 3, Page 401.

Our Pioneer Heritage.

Young Woman's Journal

Overland Trips Across the American Desert

Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert", Young Woman's Journal, July 1912, Page 370.

In '61 I took another trip to the Missouri river. The war having just broken out we met many going west to escape draft. Many of the Mormon emigration had arrived from across the ocean. One afternoon one of the steers made a break for anybody in sight and went straight for Mr. T[homas]. B[rown]. H[olmes]. Stenhouse. The steer grazed him. Over he fell onto ox yokes, kettles, etc. He drew a long breath, exclaiming, "Oh, how I wish we were in Zion!" Sometimes the Utah trains would camp within sight of each other. Then the night herders would play tricks. W[illiam]. W. Riter and Joseph Weiler were night herders for our train. One moonlight night the sound of visitors running away woke me. There were about a dozen of us sleeping in a row. Riter was next to me and his fine black beard was shining with tar. I got a frying pan with some bacon grease left in it and soon had the tar loose, so it washed off easily.	
I remained home three days after that trip, when I went again to Carson Valley, returning in December, 1861.

Transcript for Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert," Young Woman's Journal, July 1912, 370

Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert", Young Woman's Journal, July 1912, Page 369.

<xhtml:p xmlns:its="http://www.w3.org/2005/11/its" xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">Our company consisted of twelve four-mule teams, a loose herd of over 50 mules, and several merchants going to St. Louis. Water was plentiful but fuel was scarce. Wagons being generally empty, we put a pitch pine log in each, hauling them across a stretch of country without wood for 200 miles and burying them in the sand until our return in the fall. By the first of August we were on our way home. Besides Mormon emigration, the road was lined with many going to California, and Oregon, going and coming and to Pike’s Peak. The "goings" were full of expectation and visions of huge nuggets of yellow stuff. The "comings" were disgusted. On their wagons going was inscribed, "Pike's Peak or Bust." Right beside it coming, "Busted. by ——" They wanted to hang editors for lying. Out captain, Feramorz Little, was a first-class plainsman, so we made a good trip, arriving at Salt Lake City the first week in October. We met some Indians, but they were generally peaceable that year. I then worked on a cattle ranch in Tooele Valley. </xhtml:p>

Transcript for Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert," Young Woman's Journal, July 1912, 369

Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert", Young Woman's Journal, August 1912, Page 428-429.

Travel was a little different from Omaha. Instead of yoking oxen, we went on the Union Pacific to North Platte. Indians were bad that year. The Round House and everything was fortified. There were already two hundred Mormon emigrants camped ready to start for their mountain home. We were on the south side of the river, when all of a sudden our "picket" called attention to a long crooked, black streak in the distance coming towards us. Everybody got out their glasses. Brigham Young, Jr., said, "Yes, they are Indians on the warpath." There were about one thousand cattle and horses down by the river. The herders were in swimming. Such a rush as there was to get between the stock and the river. We could see the Indians pretty plain by that time, most of them were stark naked, and painted. They were humming their war chant. All of a sudden they changed their course and left us alone. There were about five hundred of them. We made forts with our freight and baggage that night so that if attacked we could make the women and children lie down inside, and throw bedding and other goods over them. But no attack came.
We reached Salt Lake Oct., 5th, . . .

Transcript for Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert," Young Woman's Journal Aug. 1912, 428-29

Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert", Young Woman's Journal, August 1912, Page 427.

It was the custom every spring to send east five hundred ox teams to the Missouri river after freight and emigration. They were divided into eleven trains, fifty wagons in a company, each company led by a captain and an assistant. That was done by a loan. Every ward in the state had its quota to fill: for instance, A would lend a yoke of oxen, B a wagon, so on until the amount was filled. The drivers filled their position as a mission. I was one of them. We were furnished with food and clothing. Our captains, James Andrus [Andrews] and Dan. McArthur, were fellow-townsmen. We started on our long trip April first. We took down to Omaha ten thousand pounds of Utah cotton for an experiment. It brought market price. I drove a team of four yoke of oxen, as did the rest, from St. George to Florence, Nebraska, and back two thousand seven hundred miles. Returning we had four hundred souls in our company. They were principally English; some Swiss and some Italians from Piedmont. We had two deaths on the trip—one old English woman, one Italian. Burials were very primitive. The corpse was rolled up in quilts or blankets, sewed up neatly and put away to rest with the Mormon ritual. When the women were laying out the corpse of the old woman, her husband refused to let them have any bedding to roll it up in. They reported the trouble to the captain, Dan. McArthur. He told a couple of us to go and take what was needed for burial.
Some seasons the Platte river, which we followed over five hundred miles, dries up. That was one of them. Towards Fort Laramie it was difficult in some places to find enough water for the stock and camp. The water for miles was in holes. There were fish by the thousands—cat-fish, pike, chubs, suckers, and principally improvised tackle was used to catch them. They made spears from butcher knives, forks or bits of iron. Many times they would wade in and catch them with hands. It surely was "manna" for the Saints. One cat-fish weighed seventy pounds. When we got within reach of Fort Bridger we took a trail to the north of the fort on account of grass. The next morning, while we were at breakfast (6 a.m.), there came a command of troops with orders for us to go to the Post and take the oath of allegiance: we went over of course. It kept us out of a day's travel towards home. We arrived at Salt Lake on the first of October. Unloaded and returned to our southern home.

Transcript for Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert," Young Woman's Journal Aug. 1912), 427

"Overland Trips Across the American Desert", Young Woman's Journal, May 1912, Page 244-246.

In the spring of 1848 we crossed the river to the Iowa side and stopped at Council Bluffs. It was Kanesville then—the Mormons named it after Colonel Kane. Times were hard as well as the winter following. Then came the great spring of '49 never to be forgotten. As soon as spring opened, here they came—all colors and sizes. They were generally well equipped for the journey, only too heavily laden, and well armed for those days. The percussion cap had just come in, consequently many of the old-time flint locks were to be seen. "Pepper-box" revolvers were stuck in belts alongside of a long butcher knife. The Colt's revolver was not in use yet. Guns were muzzle loaders. With the great rush came an uncle of mine, who loaded us in his wagon and took us to his home in Iowa, where we remained until the spring of 1851 when we came to the Des Moines river. Its water was high to cross, so we lay over till spring and made another start. We crossed the Missouri river the second of June, 1852. The first day out we camped on the Big Pappilion [Papillion] creek. Almon W. Babbitt passed us here on his way from Washington, D. C. In 1854, while crossing the plains, he was killed by the Indians. Our next camp was on the Elkhorn river. The next morning three Pawnee Indians stampeded our horses and mules, but grandfather and one of the teamsters were on the alert, and catching two horses that had ropes on, mounted them and started for camp. The other animals followed, the Indians making no resistance. The next day buffaloes by the hundreds were in sight—many times by the roadside. There were many California immigrants—besides many Mormons. Grass was fine. We had plenty of buffalo meat as long as they were in sight. One hot afternoon an immense herd came down from the north (we were on the north side of the Platte river) after water. Then we did have fun. When a buffalo is thirsty he doesn't stop for anything—just like some men—prohibition won't stop them. Our train came very near a stampede. We had to hold our teams about half an hour until the immense herd passed. Men that were loose-handed fired many shots among them, and three bucks were killed. After a week or two the cattle and horses got accustomed to them so they were not afraid. One time, when one of the big Mormon trains (700 European converts) was in camp an immense herd of buffalo ran straight through the camp breaking one woman's leg and another's shoulder. Several wagons were damaged. Great herds of antelope were continually in sight. There is no finer meat in the world than fat antelope.
Great features of the plains, after one got about 200 miles west of the Missouri river, were trading posts kept by "squaw men." These were Canadian French. Previous to the great immigration crossing the plains to Utah, California, and Oregon, they followed trapping. After the trail was established, many of them would camp alongside of the road where there was good water and grass. Anon came the gold seeker with an ox or a cow—feet worn out. It was a "ground-hog" case. If the man had any money he would give his tender-footed ox and $100.00 for a fresh animal. The "squaw man" would doctor the tender feet; turn the animal to grass, and in about a week's time it could walk without limping. Filled full of wet grass and water it was ready for another swap. By the time it had crossed a rocky piece of road it would be as lame as ever. Then his new owner having, probably no more loose change, would be forced to leave him by the wayside.
 Then comes the blacksmith shop, "prices moderate." Shoeing one yoke oxen, $50; shoeing horse, $15; set one wagon tire, $10. If you wanted to buy a sack of flour--$50 a hundredweight. Whiskey at home was 15c a gallon, on the plains, $2 a pint. On July 3rd we camped three miles below Fort Laramie. We remained over the Fourth to celebrate America's greatest day. Our journey was just half completed. We counted over one hundred immigrant camps in sight. Large herds of buffaloes and antelope could be seen in the distance. 
Leaving here the road begins to get rough—we are nearing the "Rockies." When we arrive at Devil's Gate we find another "squaw man" camp. Many people don't know what a squaw man is like. He may have sprung from a [-] family—but my! how he has fallen. His costume consists of a greasy slouch hat, long hair and beard—"a la Buffalo Bill," an old dirty over-shirt and buckskin pants, a butcher knife and revolver in his belt, and moccasins on his feet. Then here's the handsome bride—red lady of the forest, with a herd of red headed papooses running around without any fig leaves on. The squaw is robed in a dirty old buckskin gown, with perhaps a few beads worked on it. All stand in front of their skin lodge gazing at the passer-by. A little farther up the river we find another old Canuck squaw man by the name of La Fontaine Thomas. He was an invalid sixty-seven years old. Twenty years previous, when on a buffalo hunt his horse fell, hurting his spine. He never recovered. He always lay in a reclining position. When traveling he was drawn on a litter made of two poles, which trailed on the ground, the other end being fastened one on each side of a pony. We began meeting Mormons returning from Salt Lake to help expected friends. It was not long until we left the Sweet Water river, and found ourselves going up an easy rising smooth grade. Pretty soon we met a four-horse team loaded with provisions. My grandfather asked the driver, "Will you please tell me how far it is to the South Pass? The answer came suddenly: "You be right hon 'im."
One hundred thirteen miles from Salt Lake City was the home of Jim Bridger, another addition to the squaw man band. There was quite a den of them there: Jack Robinson, Ryan, McDonald, Beauvier, Big Bill who was killed by the sheriff's posse from Salt Lake County while resisting arrest, Mariana, John Bigler, and several others. This was a fine fur country. All the canyons from the eastern side of the Rockies to the Wasatch range, and north and south put forth a fine variety; beaver, otter, mink, pine marten, etc., besides several fine varieties of wolves and fox.
Twenty-five miles from Salt Lake City (August 12) we met two of my uncles with a treat for us; new potatoes, cabbages, green corn, turnips, and some fine, fresh churned butter—none of your creamery "fix up." The supper we had that evening tasted better than any other meal I ever ate in my life. The next day we had a task—climbing the Big Mountain four miles steady pull. That night we camped at Mountain Dell, twelve miles from Salt Lake. Next day being our last drive, we rose early and crossed the Little Mountain. Not much farther we came to the mouth of the Emigration Canyon and beheld a grand panorama, the Great Salt Lake Valley—the big lake in the background, a tract of ground dotted with some little adobe houses, a few newly planted trees, and all else sagebrush and high mountains as far as the eye could reach. 
We then finished our journey (1050 miles[ )] and came to the home of my uncle. . . .

Transcript for Sangiovanni, G.G.R., "Overland Trips Across the American Desert," Young Woman's Journal, May 1912, 244-46

Guglielmo Giosue Rossetti Sangiovanni

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