Margery May McEwan (1804 - 1889) Profile

Individual

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Margery May McEwan

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CR 100 137: Historical Department journal history of the Church, 1830-2008

CR 100 137: Historical Department journal history of the Church, 1830-2008, November 9, 1856, Page 25.

CR 100 137: Historical Department journal history of the Church, 1830-2008.

Deseret News

Immigration to Utah

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

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

Deseret News.

"Gone to rest," Southern Utonian

"Gone to rest," Southern Utonian, June 20, 1889.

"Gone to rest," Southern Utonian.

Goodwin, Betsey Smith, "The Tired Mother: Pioneer Recollections," Improvement Era

Goodwin, Betsey Smith, "The Tired Mother: Pioneer Recollections," Improvement Era, July 1919.

After six or seven weeks’ sailing, seasickness, and stormy weather, we landed in New York City, registered at the Castle Garden, and in a few days we reached Iowa, by rail.



There we camped for weeks, waiting for the handcarts to be completed for the journey. While there, I was so sick with scarlet fever that I could not open my eyes. I heard Sisters [Jane Allison] Henderson and [Jane McKinnon] McPhail say, “I am sorry she is dying; another death in camp soon!” One baby had just died. I seemed to know that they were speaking of me, and when mother came in from the camp-fire, with warm broth, she saw the tears in my eyes.



“Are you worse?” she asked me.



"Mother they think I am dying: I want to live and go to the Valley.”



My dear mother, at that time in her fifty-second year, then went and brought the elders, who administered to me and rebuked the disease, commanding it to leave both me and the camp. My recovery was rapid. I was able to travel, and on the 15th day of July, 1856, we rolled out of the Iowa City camp, on our way to cross the plains with handcarts. Our captain was James Gray Willie, and his counselors were: Millen Atwood and Levi Savage. There were 120 handcarts and six wagons, and about five hundred people, sixty-six of whom died on the journey.



We soon became accustomed to traveling twenty and twenty four miles a day. My little brother [Alexander Joseph Smith], six years of age, used to travel that distance, by me taking his hand to encourage him, and by telling him stories of the future and the good things in store for us.



Around the camp-fire we had very good times. There was Brother [Alexander] Burt, Brother David Anderson and others, and our girls who sang the old songs and hymns that warmed our hearts. While fair weather and full rations lasted, we were all right. We traveled five weeks, never stopping for a Sunday. Then we were in the buffalo country. Our cattle, that had hauled the provision wagons, and some cows, were then stampeded by the Indians, it was supposed. At the stampeding place we camped five days; the men went in all directions seeking for the lost cattle. Only a few were found. Our captain then thought we had done wrong in not stopping to worship on the Sabbath day, for we had lost more than we had gained.



Following this experience, we kept sacred the Sabbath day for worship and rest, and felt better for it. Owing to the loss of the cattle, there was added to the load of each cart one hundred pounds of flour.



September came, and we were on half rations and had cold weather, but we never forgot to pray, and we sang, “Come, Come, Ye Saints,” with great zeal and fervor. We realized that we needed the help of God to see us through. Many were dying from the hardships of the journey.



Let me add that I stood by a grave where sixteen people were buried at once; they were sewed up in sheets and covered with brush, then with earth and ashes. This happened during a very cold spell, and I think it was while we were coming through the Black Hills. I froze my fingers, but they were saved by good attention when we got to Lehi. At the same time, my mother traveled fifteen miles with little Alex on her back, as he couldn’t walk in the snow.



I will not dwell upon the hardships we endured, nor the hunger and cold, but I like to tell of the goodness of God unto us. One day, especially, stands out from among the remainder. The wind blew fresh, as if its breezes came from the sea. It kept blowing harder until it became fierce. Clouds arose, the thunder and lightning were appalling. Even the ox teams ahead refused to face the storm. Our captain, who always rode a mule, dismounted and stepped into the middle of the road, bared his head to the storm, and every man, as he came up, stood by him with bared head—one hundred carts, their pullers and pushers, looking to their captain for counsel. The captain said, “Let us pray.” And there was offered such a prayer! He told the Lord our circumstances, he talked to God, as one man talks to another, and as if the Lord was very near. I felt that he was; and many others felt the same. Then the storm parted to the right and to the left! We hurried on to camp, got our tents pitched, and some fires built, when the storm burst in all its fury! We had camped on a side-hill, and the water ran through the tents in little creeks.



Another circumstance I remember clearly. My mother was taken very sick with cramp and cholera. A very fatal trouble in our weakened condition. We all felt bad about mother. I remember thinking, “Many are dying: mother may die, and what a dark world it would be without our dear mother!” As I gathered the sage to burn on our camp-fire, I couldn’t keep from crying. When I met mother, she asked me what was the matter. I told her how badly I felt.



She said, “Do not feel like that; pray for me. I have been out yonder in the snow praying to the Lord to spare our lives, that we might get through to the Valley. I will never murmur nor complain, whatever we pass through, when we get there.”



God heard our prayers, and she kept her word. Even when, in years following, she went blind with age, she never murmured.



One more incident I will relate. One evening we camped near a marshy meadow spring. Poison parsnips grew there in plenty. Everybody was elated. We had found something to cook and to eat! By this time, our ration was four ounces of flour a day, and neither salt nor soda. Alexander Burt brought some parsnips to our camp fire.



Mother said, “What have you there, Brother Burt?”



He answered, “They are parsnips, Sister Smith, a sort of white carrot; put on the pot and let us have a mess.”



“I will do that,” said mother, and we cooked and ate our fill of poison parsnips.



I confess we felt like we had been eating rocks, so heavy they lay upon our stomachs. The whole camp ate of them. Our captain arrived late at the camp that night, and when he found what we had been eating, he groaned aloud, and cried, “Put them down; every one contains enough poison to kill an ox.” He said, furthermore, that it would be one of the providences of the Almighty if we were not all dead by morning. However, many were glad that they had eaten of them before they knew. We did not realize the truth of his words until the next morning when one brother died—a Scandinavian. We supposed that he had eaten them after he knew they were poison.



It was October now. The flour was gone, and we had enough crackers for only a two-days’ ration. We rolled into camp.



“Come, Bessie,” said Janet, “let us gather fuel for our fire.”



We went over a little hill toward the west, “Look, Jennie; there is a team of horses and two men! See, they are stopping to speak!”



Now, Jennie was eighteen and bashful, and whispered, “You answer,” as we went towards them. It was Joseph A. Young and Cyrus H. Wheelock. I learned this afterwards.



Brother Young said: “Sister, where is your camp?”



“Just over the hill yonder.”



“Is there any sickness in the camp?”



“No,” was the answer: “just one woman died today while eating a cracker.”



“Have you any provisions?”



“All gone but some crackers.”



“Well, cheer up,” he said, “help is coming!”



I turned to sister and said, “What ailed that man? I saw him wiping his eyes.”



“It may be that he is sorry for us. Let us hurry to camp and hear him speak.”



We did so, and he told us there were many wagons with provisions coming soon; and there were. The relief was followed by great rejoicing, and we thanked the Lord in prayer.



Brothers Young and Wheelock went on next morning to carry the news to Martin and Tyler’s company; two weeks behind us on the road.



The boys from Utah came the next day. How glad we were and how good they were! They gathered the wood, and made the fires, and let the weary ride in the wagons. On the side, I might state, also, that many lasting friendships were made between the boys and the young women. It looked that way to me!



About three miles on this side of Green River, as I was walking ahead of the train, leading my little brother of six, and encouraging him along by telling him stories of what he would get when we arrived at the Valley, he said: “When we get to that creek, I wish we could see our brother Rob.”



I said, “Come along, maybe we will, when we get to the top of the bank.”



When we arrived at the top of the bank and looked down we saw a wagon with just one yoke of oxen on. We had never seen the like before, so we waited on the summit until they should pass. The man stared at us, and as his team came beside us, he yelled, whoa, to the oxen. It was then we knew him. He jumped off the wagon and caught his sisters in his arms as they came up with the cart. How we all wept with joy!



The cart was then tied behind the wagon. Little Alex climbed into the wagon as happy as a prince, instead of a poor, tired child.



The next question from Rob was, “Where is mother and Sister Mary?”



“They are behind somewhere, Robby. You will find them by the road.” Mother was still sick, and when she stopped to rest she had to lie down; she could not sit up. Some had died that way; they would go to sleep and never awaken.



Mary was afraid that mother would do likewise, and tried to arouse her by telling her about a team coming with only one yoke of cattle on.



Mother replied, “Well, never mind, Mary; don’t bother me; I am so tired.”



"Well, mother, the man is running this way. It surely is Robert.”



“O, no, Mary; that would be too good to be true!"



Well, she was soon convinced, as Robert took her in his arms and helped her into the wagon. As he did so, mother exclaimed, “I couldn’t be more thankful to get into the kingdom of heaven than I am to see you, and lie here and rest.”



Explanations followed. Robert stated that he had suffered from a mountain fever, and was just recovering when he received a letter that we were coming. He then borrowed and hired an outfit to come and meet us. None too soon!



We arrived at Lehi in due time, and Bishop Evans welcomed us to his ward.

Transcript for Goodwin, Betsey Smith, "The Tired Mother: Pioneer Recollections," Improvement Era, July 1919, 775-81

Goodwin, Betsey Smith, "The Tired Mother: Pioneer Recollections," Improvement Era.

Goodwin, Betsy Smith, "Handcart Speech," Woman's Exponent

Goodwin, Betsy Smith, "Handcart Speech," Woman's Exponent, September 1, 1888.

. . . we camped six weeks, waiting for the hand carts to be completed, and it was the first week in August ere we rolled out of Iowa to cross the dreary plains for our home with the Saints in Utah. My little brother [Alexander Joseph Smith] used to travel twenty and twenty-four miles in a day. We soon got used to travel, and while fair weather and full rations lasted we were all right. We traveled five weeks, never stopping for Sunday; then we were in the buffalo country; our cattle that hauled the provision wagons, and the cows were stampeded, and we camped there five days trying to find the cattle; most of them were never found; our captain then thought we had done wrong in not stopping to worship on Sunday. After that we kept the Sabbath day of rest for all. 
Each cart had to its load of luggage one hundred pounds of flour, on account of our loss of cattle, now we were, in September, on half rations and cold weather. But we never forgot to sing, "Come, come, ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear." With great zeal and fervor, many fell by the way, hoping to rise in the First Resurrection of the Just. God grant it! I will not dwell on the hardships we endured with hunger and cold, but I like to tell how many a storm raged to the right and to the left of us, and did not molest us. One circumstance I remember very clearly; my mother [Margery McEwan Smith] was taken very sick with cramp cholera, a very fatal trouble then; we all felt bad about mother. I remember thinking, "Others are dying, and mother may die, and what a dark world it will be without mother," and as I gathered the dry sage to make a fire, I was crying. Mother met me and asked, "What is the matter?" I told her how bad I felt. She said: "Do not feel like that, but pray for me; you and all the rest, and we will get through. I have just been asking God to spare our lives, so none of us will be left on the way; and no matter what trials we have when we get to the valley, I shall never murmur or complain." God heard us, and I can say she kept her word. We lived, and are living yet. 
One more incident I will relate: One evening we camped near a marshy meadow, which abounded in springs and poison parsnips; every one was elated; we had something good to eat. Alexander Burt was among the first to find them; he came to our camp fire and commenced to unload. Mother said: "Brother Burt, what have you got?" They are parsnips, Sister Smith, a sort of white carrot; put on the pot and let us have a good mess." "I will do that," said mother, and we cooked and ate our fill of poison parsnips. I confess we felt like we had eaten rocks, so heavy they were, and not only us, but the whole camp ate of them. Our captain arrived late at camp that night, and when he found out what we had been eating, he groaned aloud, and cried, "Put them down, each one contains enough poison to kill an ox." We were glad we had eaten ours, for we would not have dared to eat any after that; he said it would be one of the providences of the Almighty if we were not all dead by morning. We did not realize the truth of his words until next morning one brother died; we supposed he had eaten of them after he knew better. Now we had one quarter of a pound of flour a day, with neither salt or soda; some could hardly wait to cook it. It was October, stormy and cold. Soon the flour was all gone. Then there were crackers for two days; then the blessed boys of Utah met us with provisions. They gathered our wood and made our camp fires, and let us ride in their wagons; they found time to do a little sparking, also, and many a noble son and daughter can say, "My mother was a hand-cart girl."
Three miles this side of Green River, as I was walking ahead of the the carts, leading my little brother, encouraging him along with a story of what we would get when we came to the valley; he said: "Oh, Betsy, I wish when we get to that creek we would meet Bob." "Well, come along, may be we will;" and when we got to the top of the bank, we looked down and saw a team with only one yoke of cattle on; we had never seen the like before, so we waited on the top until they would pass; and it was our brother; he stared at us, and when he halloed we knew his voice. He jumped off and brought Mary Jane and Euphemia in his arms; they had come up with the cart while little Alex and I waited on the bank. How we wept for joy. The cart was tied behind the wagon; little Alex climbed in the wagon, as happy as a king's son, instead of being a poor tired child. The next question was, "Where is mother and Mary?" "They are behind somewhere, you will find them by the road." Mother was still sick, and when she stopped to rest, she had to lie down, she could not sit up; some had died that way; they would go to sleep like a tired child and never wake up. Mary was afraid mother would, and tried to arouse her by telling her there was a team coming with only one yoke of cattle on. "Well, never mind; Mary, don't bother me." "Well, mother, the man is running this way; mother, it surely is Robert!" "Oh, no, Mary, that would be too good to be true." Well, she was soon convinced with tears and kisses; he helped her in the wagon; then she said, "I could not be more thankful to get into the kingdom of heaven than I am to get in this wagon."
Then explanations followed. He told how he had been sick with the mountain fever; how he had got our letter saying we were coming, and as soon as he could walk, he prepared to come and meet us; he got cattle from one, wagon and cover from another, provisions from others. So we proved, "God helps those who help themselves."

Transcript for Goodwin, Betsy Smith, "Handcart Speech," Woman's Exponent, 1 Sept. 1888, 51

Goodwin, Betsy Smith, "Handcart Speech," Woman's Exponent.

Handcart Veterans Association. Handcart Veterans Association scrapbook, 1906-1914, folder 7

Handcart Veterans Association. Handcart Veterans Association scrapbook, 1906-1914, folder 7.

Josiah Rogerson, "Captain J. G. Willie's Or, the Fourth Handcart Company of 1856 (No. 1)," Salt Lake Herald

Josiah Rogerson, "Captain J. G. Willie's Or, the Fourth Handcart Company of 1856 (No. 1)," Salt Lake Herald, December 15, 1907.

The names of this company will be given first in place, for if ever in print before, it is over fifty years ago.



The members of this company, mainly, if not all, sailed from the Brammerly-Moor docks at Liverpool, Lancashire, England, in the ship Thornton, May 4, 1856, landing at New York June 14, and arrived at Iowa Hill, near Iowa City, Ia., about the 27th of June, 1856. When the Mormon emigrants that sailed from Liverpool, Lancashire, England, May 25, in the Horizon, and comprising the whole of Martin's handcart company and Hunt's and Hodgett's wagon companies, arrived on Iowa Hill, Ia. July 8 and 9, 1856. Willie's company was then nearly ready to leave that camp with their handcarts and tents all made, wagons loaded with provisions, etc., for the 1,350 mile journey to the Great Salt Lake valley, Utah, and made their start on the 10th or 12th of July, a day or two after Martin's company reached there.



Names of the company from England—Captain J. G. Willie and William Woodward, returning missionaries; John Chislett, Ann Osborn, Thomas Moulton and family, Jesse Impey [Empey] and family, William Reed and family, Joseph Osborn [Oborn] and family, Sarah Charles [Choules], William Edwick, Alfred Peacock, Jemima Rogers and daughter, Mary P. Griffiths, Suzannah Stone, Min[ni]e A. Cook, Sarah A. Williams, Ester Millard, Elizabeth Tite, Betsey Stanley, Mary A. Stockdale, Julia and Emily Hill, the poetess; Amelia Evans, Cecelia and Sarah Norris, the latter the wife of Elder Jenkins Evans, and residents of Parowan, Iron county, Utah, for the last fifty years; Mary A. and Adelaide Cooper, David Reader and family, Mary A. Bird and family, Joseph Wall and wife [sister], Benjamin Culley, Rebecca Langman, Rebecca Pilgrim, Elizabeth and Jane Culley, Ann Oliver, Ann Cooper, Theophilus Copp [Cox], Thomas Girdlestone and family, James Harren and family, William Philpot and family, Rose Key and family, Sam Gadd and family, Mary A. Perkins, John Linford and family, Mary A. Miller, Ann Howard, Mary E. Bretton [Britton], Mary and Elizabeth Fannel [Funnell], Samuel Witts, Ann Bryant, Thomas Hooley, Charles Gumer [Gurney] and family, Anna [Hannah] and Mary [Maria] Kirby, John Nockolds, Abraham Ore and wife, George and Jane [John] Brazier, George Ingra and wife, Kitty Ann Tassell, Ellen Toffield, Lucy Ward, James Oliver, Elizabeth Kirkpatrick, James Gardner and family, William Hailey and wife, Joseph Meadows and wife, Mary and Hannah Dorney, Edward Bowles and wife, Jane Rowley, Thomas Oakley [Oakey] and family, Edward Wheeler and family, Frederick Wall and wife, Jenet [Janetta] and Mary Hodges, Emma Summers, Sarah Steed, Martha Chetwin, Mary Ann Newman (widow), her daughters, Eliza, Mary Ann, Caroline and Ellen, and sons, William and John, residents of Parowan, Iron county, Utah, since 1856; Sophia C[r]ook and daughter, Richard and Ann Godfrey, Anna Herbert and son, Thomas and Enoch Bowles, John Roberts, William Jeffry, Richard Hardwick, Richard Turner, George Humphries and family, Eliza Withom [Withorn] and son, Mercy Miller and son, Elizabeth Panting and family, James Read [Reid] and family, Martha Campkin and family, John James, George Curtis, William James and family, Harriet and Ellen C. Showell, Sarah West, Mary Roberts, Ellen Jones, William Smith and wife, John Bailey and family, Ann Rowley and family, residents of Parowan, Iron county, Utah, for fifty years; William Page.



From Wales—Catherine M. Griffiths, Edward Griffiths.



From Scotland—Allen M. Findlay and family, residents of Panacea, Nev., for thirty years; Archibald McPheil and family, Margery Smith and family, residents of Beaver City, Utah,, for thirty years; Alexander Birt or Burt, Salt Lake, Utah; Thomas Stewart and family, David Anderson, carpenter, resident of Salt Lake for fifty years; William Ledington and family, James Gibb and wife, Andrew Smith of Salt Lake, Mary A. Calchwell [Caldwell] and family, Barbara Kelly, Ann Tesit, Christina McNeil, John McCollick [McCullough], Jane A. Stuart [Stewart], Isabella Wilkey [Wilkie], John Stuart [Stewart] and family, John Kelly and wife, Elizabeth Forbes.



From Ireland—Joseph McKey (or McKay), Margaret Douglish [Dalglish].



From Sweden—John Ahmansen.



From Bombay—Elizabeth Tealt [Tait].



From the United States—Millen Atwood, Levi Savage, returning missionaries.



From Denmark—Peter Madsen and wife, Peter Jacobson and family, Ann Olsen, Berta Neilsen, Emma Browant [Bravandt], Marcan [Maren] Gregerson, Ella [Helle] Neilsen, Louiza Loutross, Johanna Maria Jensen (afterward the mother of James J. and J. Willard Squires, barbers of this city for many years), and her sister Catherine Jensen; Mari and Anne Anderson, Jens Sanberk [Sandberg], Anders Christensen, Cassius Hanson, Oleo [Ola] Wickland and family, Jens Peterson and family, Jens Neilson and family, Peter Larson and family, Paul Jacobson and wife, Rasmus P. Hanson, Mareann Jergonson [Jorgenson], Christen Jergonson, Carsten Jenson, Ni[e]ls Anderson and family, Andres [Anders] Jenson and family, Rasmus Hanson and wife, Lars Vandelin, Peter Mortenson and family, residents of Parowan, Iron county, Utah, for fifty years; Nils Hanson and wife, Anders Jergonson and family, Sophia Peterson and family, Peter Marsen [Madsen] and family, Ole Madsen, Petrina C. Janes.



Although Captain J. G. Willie's company left Iowa Hill, Ia., some fourteen or sixteen days ahead of ours, Martin's company, with the middle of July weather, and which they made good use of—and all possible haste to Florence or Winterquarters [Winter Quarters], Neb., and got away from there with only a few days rest, losing no time from there to Fort Kearney, and realizing the value of the good weather and the date that they should reach and pass Fort Larimie [Laramie]; yet before reaching the latter landmark on those dreary plains, they seemed fated that by a little possible lassitude on the part of their guard at nights over their cattle, and where it was more necessary than any other part of the journey to meet with their most crippling disaster in the loss by the Cheyenne Indians of half, or more, of their draught oxen.



This to them—at that time and place, was an irreparable loss and fatality, and from which they could not and did not recover to the end of their journey. They had made good headway from the start, with more single and able-bodied members, in comparison to Captain Martin's company, that really contained, and as heretofore recorded, the most aged and infirm, and the cleanings up of that season's emigration.



This loss of half their draught oxen necessitated the unloading onto the carts of the company of half the provisions in the wagons, and taking into considerations the three or four days' spent in hunting for the cattle, without moving camp, and after conceding further quest to be hopeless and needless, their travel for the next two and three weeks with but little more than one yoke of oxen to the wagon, was greatly hindered and impeded, placing the company back from where they would have been without this loss, not less than 125 miles.



This company did not lack by any means for members of hardihood, health, strength and endurance, for Captain Willie came to the relief party below the mouth of Willow creek, after dark at night, on Monday, October 20, 1856, and with what assistance they received from that on they were enabled to reach Salt Lake City on Sunday, November 9, the morning Martin's company left the "Ravine."Three miles west of Devil's Gate and 350 miles from Salt Lake City.



This loss on their part figures out almost proportionately with them as the unnecessary delay on Iowa Hill, Ia., of sixteen days waiting for the handcarts to be made after we got there, did to Martin's company, for now it is proof beyond question that sixteen days of fairly good weather and dry ground would have landed the latter company from the Platte bridge in the vicinity of Big Sandy or Green river, but the knowledge of the future is often withheld from the most gifted and wise and for a purpose best known to Himself.



One paragraph more from the late President Franklin D. Richards' journal on his return from Florence, Neb., to Salt Lake that season, and then follows Captain J. G. Willie's report which is the best authority as to the travels, hardships, sufferings and losses by death of his company.



Friday, Sept. 12, 1856—We overtook and camped with Brother Willie's company at North Bluff creek, consisting of 404 persons, six wagons, 87 handcarts, six yoke of oxen, thirty-two cows and five mules. They were considerably weakened by the loss of their oxen which they had failed to recover, but were in good spirits and averaging fourteen to sixteen miles a day. Here we forded the Platte river to the south side and were followed by the handcarts.



Never was a more soul-stirring sight than the party and the passage of this company over that river. Several of the carts were drawn entirely by women, yet their hearts were glad and full of hope.



It will be remembered that President Franklin D. Richards and his company of returning missionaries left Florence, Neb., on September 3, passing Martin's company on Sunday, September 7, and in five days more overtook Willie's company as above recorded. This would then place the latter company from 125-150 miles west of Martin's, and in the vicinity of Fort Kearney, where their cattle were stolen.



Captain James G. Willie's digest of his journal of the journey of his company from Liverpool, England, to Salt Lake City, Utah.



Synopsis of the fourth handcart company's trip from Liverpool, England, to Great Salt Lake City, in the spring, summer and autumn of 1856. (Written by Elder James G. Willie, Captain.)



On Thursday, May1, the ship Thornton, Captain Collins, received the Saints (761 in number) on board the ship in the Brammerley-Moore docks, Liverpool, and on the following Saturday President F. D. Richards, accompanied by the government inspector and doctor, came on board, and the Saints answered to the usual inspection and were all pronounced by those officers to be in good health. President Richards appointed myself (James G. Willie) captain of the company, and Elder Millen Atwood, Moses Clough and Johan A. Ahmanson, my counselors, and afterward in a few appropriate remarks exhorted the people to strict obedience on the passage, as otherwise they could not expect, and would not have a prosperous journey. President Richards then blessed them in the name of the Lord and by authority of the holy priesthood. Captain Willie then made the usual appointments for the promotion of cleanliness and good order, and on Sunday, May 4, at 3 a.m. the company was tugged out of the river by the Pilot. Sea-sickness soon commenced, but through the blessings of the Lord it was not frequent during the voyage, and which terminated at New York on the 14th of June. The spirit of the Lord prevailed. The ship's captain yielded to the influence which surrounded him and was kind and affable to all, often voluntarily giving from his own table for the comfort of the sick and infirm, and otherwise ministering to their wants with his own hands. He seemed to be a good man, and I felt all the time and still feel to say "God bless Captain Collins." By his sanction meetings (at which he was generally present for preaching and bearing testimony) were held on the quarterdeck, and every liberty which could in reason be expected was granted by him. He often in polite terms, complimented the Saints upon their cleanliness and upon their ready compliance with his requests from time to time, and said he never wished for a better or more orderly lot of passengers.



They certainly deserved the captain's encomium, for with scarcely an exception, they did their utmost to carry out to the very letter the instructions given. Previous to landing at New York a testimonial, expressive of the Saints' appreciation of the captain's and the doctor's kindness, was presented to them by myself; and one signed by the captain, first mate and doctor, on behalf of themselves and the ships's company, was presented to me on behalf of the Saints. On our arrival at Castle Gardens, New York, we received a hearty welcome from President John Taylor and Elder Felt. Several gentlemen of the press also paid us a visit and were very courteous toward us, appearing desirous to obtain information concerning the company from its officers, and subsequently several paragraphs appeared in different New York newspapers in praise of the general appearance and demeanor of the entire company.



On Tuesday, June 17, they started under the presidency of Elder Levi Savage for Dunkirk, a distance of 460 miles, where they arrived on the 19th, leaving Brother Attwood and myself behind to transact sundry items of business. We, however, arrived at Dunkirk by express train on the same day, and immediately embarked with the Saints on the Jersey City for Toledo, 280 miles further, where we arrived on Saturday, the 21st, in good health and spirits. We at once started per rail for Chicago, which we reached on the following day. I should mention that the railway authorities at Toledo manifested a very unkind spirit toward us, putting us to every inconvenience in their power. The conductor compelled us to land in the streets of Chicago, but the superintendent there gave us the use of an empty warehouse for the night.



The day [-] next day (the 23d) most of the English Saints left per rail at 3 p.m. and the rest at 11 p.m. for Rock Island. On the first train arriving at Pond Creek, the next day, it was ascertained that the railway bridge there had fallen down while a previous train was passing over it. Several brethren, including Brothers—and Erastus Snow, were in the train, and although many of the passengers were seriously injured, they escaped unhurt. We slept in the cars, and on the 25th the remainder of our company came up. We had much difficulty in obtaining provisions.

Transcript for Josiah Rogerson, "Captain J. G. Willie's Or, the Fourth Handcart Company of 1856 (No. 1)," Salt Lake Herald, 15 December 1907, 5

Josiah Rogerson, "Captain J. G. Willie's Or, the Fourth Handcart Company of 1856 (No. 1)," Salt Lake Herald.

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

Perpetual Emigrating Fund, Financial Accounts 1849-1886, Ledger B, Page 226.

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

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

Margery May McEwan

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