Transcript for Morgan, William, "A Letter [September 20, 1852] to Presidents W. S. Phillips and J. Davis," in Ronald D. Dennis, The Call of Zion: The Story of the First Welsh Mormon Emigration [1987], 234-35

Bear River, 80 miles from Salt Lake City,
20 September 1852.

Dear Brothers Phillips and Davis —

According to my promise, I now take the opportunity of writing to you for the second time on this journey. We have had a comfortable journey all the way so far, and the weather has been unusually moderate with but little rain and no storms; and even though we crossed one mountain which was 7,700 feet above sea level, we saw not so much as one day of snow on our way. We did see a lot of black clouds rising with the wind, and we heard distant thunder as if the whole heavens above were gathering their forces to sweep us away; but they dared not harm us, because of that One Who has all authority, and who calls the stars by their names, and He whose command the winds obey. He parted them as if by His hand (i.e., the clouds) until they went past us on every side with us in the middle without our feeling their effects. And not just once or twice did this happen.

We are all well at present, and we had but little sickness on our journey. Four have died, i.e., William Dafydd [David], from Llanelli, and Thomas, his son. Also William, son of Sister [Martha] Howells from Aberdare, who fell under his mother's wagon wheel which went over his chest. We administered to him through the ordinances of the Church of Jesus Christ, according to the scriptures, and the next night he was strolling around the camp. He fell sick again in a day or two, and Bro. Taylor and myself administered to him again, but he died in spite of everything and everyone. The other who died was Jennet, the daughter of Thomas and Anne Morris, from cancer. You shall have more of the account of our journey when we reach the Valley.

Last night we were in our camp on the bank of Sulphur Creek, two miles from here. We heard in the morning that our dear brother, Capt. D. Jones, was camped by the Bear River. It was not long, as you shall learn, after hearing the news, before the word "pack up and pick up" came out; and I know that nowhere on the journey was there a quicker response to any call. His name had lit a flame of love in the breast of everyone toward him so that nothing else could be heard through the camp but "Bro. Jones," and "let us go to meet him." It wasn’t long before the wheels were turning. After traveling close to a mile, we saw a man of small stature walking quickly to meet us. We did not know who it was; but as we drew nearer to each other, to our joy who would it be but our dear Bro. Jones and his customary cheery smile. It is easier to imagine than to describe our meeting. After shaking hands, embracing, weeping and kissing, we went to the bank of the river where he had left his horse, having traveled from twenty to thirty miles during the night ahead of his company in order to meet us. We decided to spend a day in his friendship, to converse with each other about things pertaining to the kingdom of our God. Oh, brethren, how sweet the words poured over his lips. It is true that every word from his mouth was sweet earlier in Whales [Wales], but they were a thousand times sweeter here on the desolate mountains of America, between eight and nine thousand miles from Wales.

I must end this letter, for the camp is getting near, and Brothers Jeremy and Daniels are coming. Who can hold a pen when faithful brethren with whom I traveled thousands of miles in the bonds of love are getting near? Not I. There, the brothers and sisters are running; I cannot restrain myself any longer. Behold, everyone is coming back to the camp with his heart full of joy in full proof of the truthfulness of the words "how lovely is the dwelling of brothers together." We spent the rest of the day in brotherly love, at times singing, other times testifying of our determinations, listening to the teaching of the three brethren, until the day went past, and, if truth be told, until twelve o'clock at night also. And though the midst of the green willows we met, the Spirit of God was among us. We all took our leave so that each could fulfill his calling in full confidence that we would meet again in Zion. The camp is getting underway. Farewell for now, dear Brothers Phillips and Davis.

I am your brother in the bonds of the Gospel,
W. Morgan.