Transcript

Transcript for DeWitt, Margaret Miller Watson, "Autobiography of Margaret Miller Watson DeWitt," Relief Society Magazine, July 1929, 382-83

Baptism at Night: Crossing the Plains

Before leaving for Zion, however, I had been baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. My sister and I had attended regularly the L. D. S. services in Holyoke. Each meeting strengthened my faith, though I had believed the Gospel to be true from the first time I heard the Elders preach it in Glasgow. On account of the bitter opposition manifest by the anti-"Mormons" there, my baptism was performed at night. When I was taken to the river the ice was broken, and there I was baptized.

I traveled across the plains with Thomas Lyons, his invalid wife, and five children. They had two hired teamsters, each driving a large wagons—load of goods. I took care of their five children and cooked every bite that was eaten by our outfit of ten, from the time we left Florence, Nebraska, until we reached Salt Lake City. I walked all the way across the plains, carrying the baby much of the time. Sister Lyons had to be lifted in and out of the wagons, and had a special chair to sit on.

Incidents of the Journey

As soon as the men would pitch tents each night, I would prepare supper over an open camp fire, then get the children to bed. Often I did not get much sleep, the mosquitoes being very troublesome, and causing the children to cry and fuss a great deal. I had never cooked over a camp fire; when I needed information I counseled with some of the older sisters, who were very kind and willing to help me. I learned to bake light bread in a bake-oven. From each baking, we saved a piece of dough for our next batch of bread.

There was one death in our company—an invalid man who could not stand the trip. His body was wrapped in canvas and buried in a grave, by which a service was held. All along our way we saw graves which the coyotes had dug into.

I remember a marriage on the plains. After the ceremony we danced most of the night to the music of a fiddle.

When about half way across the plains, I had to leave my new trunk because we were too heavily loaded. My clothes I put into sacks.

We were three months crossing the plains, under the captaincy of Edward Stevenson. My sister heard of the company through the "Pony Express" and was ready to meet me. She had arranged for a place to work—for a Sister Elizabeth Howard, who lived eight miles south of Salt Lake City at Big Cottonwood. My sister had a place in Salt Lake City and we often visited.