Looking retrospectively upon the life of Emmeline B. Wells and noting the constant upward progress she has made through the adverse circumstances common to a pioneer life, and the establishing of a new order of religion and social life amid the opposition and persecution of our own nation; the result is calculated to testify strongly against the assertions made that, in our isolation and subservience to religious authority, woman is repressed in her abilities and privileges; for it is in that mental atmosphere which is the very essence of Mormonism, that hers have been developed and brought into prominence as an exemplar to the young. If in the very stronghold of Mormonism the standard of progress is upheld by woman's hand as well as man's, the inference is that the next generation will show a marked advance. Knowledge is power, and this with virtue and wisdom united, guided by inspiration, ignorance and tyranny will alike be impotent against the growing hosts of Israel. And, knowing this, all excellences of acquirements and attainments are stimulated and promoted among the old and young by our leaders, misrepresentation to the contrary notwithstanding.
The quality of statesmanship is of high order and rare among women, but it has been declared by the lips of prophecy that positions of power would await the women of Zion faster than they would be qualified for them. Mrs. Wells is by nature one of those prepared for the advent of such an era.
And still, the songs whispered from nature to the heart of the child chime on, and the woman repeats them in clear, sweet utterances to the world; the intuitions of the Deity and his work she may now declare in knowledge, and the maiden that with timid feet went down at the Gospel's call into the waters of baptism, has become a strength, an inspiration and a guide to women in the same path.
President Young gave Mrs. Wells a mission to record in brief the biographies of the most prominent women of our Church, in theWoman's Exponent. A part of this work has already been performed, which is an important addition to our home literature.
I give below one selection from the lady's many beautiful poems:
REAL AND IDEAL.At times, sweet visions float across my mind,And glimpses of the unknown bright and fair,Where all the objects seem so well defined—Tasteful in color, and in beauty rare,That I must pause and think if they be real,Or only what the poets call ideal.I well remember when a little child,I had these same strange, wand'ring fancies;And I was told my thoughts were running wild,That I must not indulge in such romances.Wasting in idle dreams the precious hours,Building air castles and gazing from the towers.E'en then I seemed to see familiar friends,Pertaining to a dim, uncertain past;And to my recollection faintly clings,A sense of something which the shadows cast,That showed me what my future life would be,A prophecy, as 'twere, of destiny.There was an intuition in my heart,An innate consciousness of right and wrong,That bade me choose a wiser, better part,Which, in rough places helped to make me strong:And though my path was oft bereft of beauty,Still urged me on to fulfill ev'ry duty.O, happy childhood, bright with faith and hope;Enchantment dwells within thy rosy bowers,And rainbow tints gild all within thy scope;And youth sits lightly on a bed of flowers,His cup of happiness just brimming o'er,Unconscious of what life has yet in store.What glowing aspirations fill the mind—Of noble work designed for man to do!What purity of purpose here we find—What longing for the beautiful and true;Ere know we of the toil, and grief and woe;Or dream that men and women suffer so.Though all along life's toilsome, weary way,We meet with disappointments hard to bear;Yet strength is given equal to our day,And joy is of'nest mixed with pain or care;But let us not grow weary in well-doing,Still persevere, the upward path pursuing.Thus ever struggle on, 'mid doubts and fears;While changing scenes before our gaze unfold,Till, through the vista of long weary years,We see Heaven's sunshine thro' its gates of gold;And feel assured it is an answering token,Aye! though our earthly idols have been broken.Tho' those we've cherished most have been untrue,And fond and faithful ones have gone before,Still let us keep the promises in view,Of those who're pleading on "the other shore,"Whose tender messages are with us yet,The words of love, we never can forget.And while we muse and ponder, shadows fall,And a sweet spirit whispers, "Peace, be still;"What of the past—'tis now beyond recall:The future, we with usefulness may fill.Yet sometime we shall find in regions realThose dreams fulfilled we only term ideal.
REAL AND IDEAL.
At times, sweet visions float across my mind,And glimpses of the unknown bright and fair,Where all the objects seem so well defined—Tasteful in color, and in beauty rare,That I must pause and think if they be real,Or only what the poets call ideal.
I well remember when a little child,I had these same strange, wand'ring fancies;And I was told my thoughts were running wild,That I must not indulge in such romances.Wasting in idle dreams the precious hours,Building air castles and gazing from the towers.
E'en then I seemed to see familiar friends,Pertaining to a dim, uncertain past;And to my recollection faintly clings,A sense of something which the shadows cast,That showed me what my future life would be,A prophecy, as 'twere, of destiny.
There was an intuition in my heart,An innate consciousness of right and wrong,That bade me choose a wiser, better part,Which, in rough places helped to make me strong:And though my path was oft bereft of beauty,Still urged me on to fulfill ev'ry duty.
O, happy childhood, bright with faith and hope;Enchantment dwells within thy rosy bowers,And rainbow tints gild all within thy scope;And youth sits lightly on a bed of flowers,His cup of happiness just brimming o'er,Unconscious of what life has yet in store.
What glowing aspirations fill the mind—Of noble work designed for man to do!What purity of purpose here we find—What longing for the beautiful and true;Ere know we of the toil, and grief and woe;Or dream that men and women suffer so.
Though all along life's toilsome, weary way,We meet with disappointments hard to bear;Yet strength is given equal to our day,And joy is of'nest mixed with pain or care;But let us not grow weary in well-doing,Still persevere, the upward path pursuing.
Thus ever struggle on, 'mid doubts and fears;While changing scenes before our gaze unfold,Till, through the vista of long weary years,We see Heaven's sunshine thro' its gates of gold;And feel assured it is an answering token,Aye! though our earthly idols have been broken.
Tho' those we've cherished most have been untrue,And fond and faithful ones have gone before,Still let us keep the promises in view,Of those who're pleading on "the other shore,"Whose tender messages are with us yet,The words of love, we never can forget.
And while we muse and ponder, shadows fall,And a sweet spirit whispers, "Peace, be still;"What of the past—'tis now beyond recall:The future, we with usefulness may fill.Yet sometime we shall find in regions realThose dreams fulfilled we only term ideal.
Romania Bunnell Pratt, daughter of Luther B. and Esther Mendenhall Bunnell, was born August 8, 1839, in Washington, Wayne County, Indiana. In her seventh year she went with her parents to Nauvoo, and had the privilege of visiting the Temple, and went with the Church to Winter Quarters. She says: "While there I well remember being present when the martial band was marching round and the call was made for the Mormon Battallion for Mexico. Although too young to appreciate the severe ordeal our devoted and persecuted people were subject to, I can never forget the feeling of grief which oppressed my little heart, as one after one the brave-hearted men fell into the ranks." From Winter Quarters her parents moved to Ohio where her whole time was spent in attending school, the last year and a half at the Crawfordsville Female Seminary. In 1855, her mother then being a widow, with her family of two girls and two boys and their worldly effects, again joined the Saints at Atchison, now Omaha, where she was first baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, on the last of May, 1855, just before commencing their journey with ox teams across the plains to Salt Lake City, where they arrived September 3d of the same year. The summer journey of these months was a series of changing panoramic scenes as enchanting to the free, careless heart of a child, as it was arduous to those of maturer years. Their arrival in the city of the Saints was during the grasshopper famine, when flour was twenty-five dollars per hundred weight, sugar forty cents per pound and everything in proportion, and although they had left plenty behind them, in the hands of guardians who refused to allow them any money, (the children all being minors) to come away among the Mormons, saying; "They will rob you of it all as soon as you get there." In consequence of this prejudice they arrived in Salt Lake City penniless and at a time when they with thousands of others had to learn the sweetness of the coarsest kind of bread. Romania taught day school and gave music lessons on the piano at intervals until she entered the medical profession. This lady was married to Parley P. Pratt, son of the Apostle, Parley P. Pratt, by President Brigham Young, and has had seven children; Parley P. Pratt, Luther B., Louis L., Corinne T., Mark C., Irwin E. and Roy B. Pratt. Her second son died in infancy, and her lovely daughter died when twenty months old.
Through a love of literary pursuit and surrounding circumstances her attention was turned to the medical profession which she entered in 1873 and graduated in the Woman's Medical College of Philadelphia in March, 1877. After graduating she remained in Philadelphia and took special courses on the eye and ear at Wills' Hospital and a dispensary on Chestnut Street, conducted by Dr. George Strawbridge. Leaving Philadelphia she spent a few weeks visiting Hydropathic institutions to learn something of the mode of administration and especially of water treatment.
Immediately on her arrival home she by request commenced giving lectures to ladies and agitated the question of a hospital for women and children, and by counsel on account of great demand of obstetrical aid needed in the numerous settlements, soon instituted a school of midwifery, and has taught two classes a year since, except when absent for special study in the New York Eye and Ear Infirmary where she spent eight months in 1881-2.
In 1874, when Eliza R. S. Smith organized the Young Ladies' Mutual Improvement Association of the Twelfth Ward, Mrs. Pratt was appointed President, which position she held though absent a portion of the time, until professional work compelled her resignation. She now holds the office of Treasurer of the Salt Lake Stake organization of the Young Ladies Mutual Improvement Association, and is also one of the Board of Executors and medical attendant of the Deseret Hospital, organized 1882, beside having a busy practice. Luther B. Bunnell, her father, was the inventor of a repeating fire arm, and at a critical period in the persecutions of the Saints, donated to them five hundred dollars in arms and ammunition. Tracing her family record a few years back, we find in her mother's line the names of Bayard Taylor and Benjamin West among her relatives. About the year 1837, a small pamphlet was published in Philadelphia giving the genealogy of her family, tracing them back to a Russian nobleman. Captain Mendenhall was the grandson of Benjamin, brother to John Mendenhall, the Puritan emigrant. Colonel Richard Thomas, brother to her great grandmother, was a member of Congress from Chester County, Pa., for many years. Of medical members, Dr. Pratt's family certainly has had a goodly number, and of these we select—Dr. Mendenhall, of Richmond, Indiana, her mother's cousin, Dr. Marmaduke Mendenhall, of North Carolina, her cousin, Dr. Paris Mendenhall, her brother, Dr. James R. Mendenhall, of Richmond, Indiana, her cousin, Nereus Mendenhall, professor in New Garden Quaker College, also George D. and William Mendenhall, physicians. Beside these, many others of note occur, too many for less than a special volume. Her eldest son, Parley P. Pratt, also entered the New York School of Pharmacy, from which he expects to graduate in the spring of 1885.
Dr. Pratt is in appearance the very embodiment of health and happiness, her blooming cheeks, abundant loose ringlets without a line of gray, her dark eyes inspiring the dispirited with cheerfulness and hope, the cordial clasp of hand, a hand gentle, but somehow suggestive of the nerve, firmness, self-possession and power the true healer holds, the intuition one receives of her sympathy and benevolence, if needed; all these are conveyed as upon an open page by the very presence of Dr. Pratt. Also, that other influence is felt that she too leans upon a higher power than human skill, the same Giver of life and health as the tenderest child looks up to.
Dr. Romania B. Pratt was the first "Mormon" woman graduate. Following her return as graduate, next came Dr. Ellis R. Shipp, 1878, Mattie Paul Hughes, M. D., 1883, Elvira S. Barney, M. D., 1883, and Margaret C. Shipp, M. D., 1883. Drs. R. B. Pratt, Ellis R. Shipp and Elvira S. Barney are connected with the Deseret Hospital, founded in 1882.
THE LADY DOCTOR.For her, from darkened roomsWhat blessings softly rise,Who brings relief to pain and fearAnd soothes the watcher's cries.On her, the skies look downAs fearless, swift she goesThrough lonely paths, past rude alarms,And oft through blinding snows.'Tis hers, to see the smileThe new blest mother gives;And hers to hear their answering joy—"Hush all thy fears, he lives."The record of her worksIn volumes ne'er is known,'Tis written as on marble carvedIn grateful hearts alone.
THE LADY DOCTOR.
For her, from darkened roomsWhat blessings softly rise,Who brings relief to pain and fearAnd soothes the watcher's cries.
On her, the skies look downAs fearless, swift she goesThrough lonely paths, past rude alarms,And oft through blinding snows.
'Tis hers, to see the smileThe new blest mother gives;And hers to hear their answering joy—"Hush all thy fears, he lives."
The record of her worksIn volumes ne'er is known,'Tis written as on marble carvedIn grateful hearts alone.
Although in this book Dr. Barney is classed among the medical fraternity her labors and history have been interwoven with those of the Latter Day Saints from her childhood, in so many varied and useful fields of labor, that I am compelled to pause at the very beginning of this sketch, (necessarily brief) knowing I must omit so many particulars, both valuable and instructive.
If Dr. Barney had, in her childhood, possessed the advantages of obtaining a thorough education, and opportunities for the best development of those many abilities which have manifested themselves under the most dispiriting surroundings, it would be difficult at present to estimate what she might have accomplished. She represents the practical, domestic, experience of a Latter Day Saint; orphaned, and almost alone, but possessing that indomitable spirit that rises above every obstacle, and turns to account every available means no matter how humble, that cultivates every inherent power to its best uses; an upbuilder in everything pertaining to the interests of her people, ready to aid on the right and on the left, forgetful of self.
Elvira S. Barney was born March 17, 1832, in Gerry, Chawtawque County, New York, being the daughter of Samuel C. Stevens, a merchant, and his wife, Minerva Althea Field, a school teacher. Her great grand-father, Joseph Stevens, took an active part in the Revolutionary War; her grand-father, Simon Stevens, was a doctor; her uncles were doctors and lawyers. When twelve years old Elvira heard the gospel preached by a Mormon Elder, and from that time daily prayed in secret till the Lord gave her a testimony that satisfied her heart. She was baptized in 1844, and went with her parents to Nauvoo, where her father died after a brief illness, on October 4th. In the January following Elvira and her mother were preparing for the journey across the wilderness, parching corn, etc.; but her mother, overcome by toil, grief and exhaustion, died on the 6th of the month. Their farm, household goods, etc., were sold, and the five children received ten dollars each to fit them out for a western journey. Elvira parted with her twin brother, fourteen years old, with tears in his eyes, and she never saw him again. He died six years after. Elvira was taken some twenty-five miles across the prairie among strangers, and there spent the winter. There were no children for her to mate with, no one to feel tenderly for the lonely, quiet aching heart of this orphan girl. When spring approached she rejoined her married sister to wait upon her, traveling west with her, sometimes living in a brush-house (while recruiting) and sleeping under a wagon while traveling, and once awoke to find several inches of snow covering them. Exposure brought her to death's door, but she lived after long suffering. She witnessed the solemn separation of the "Mor-Battallion" from their families and friends. During one winter she lived in a dug-out in a side hill on the Missouri River, and was forced to live on corn bread and water; their tallow candles they could not afford to burn, but used them to grease their bake-kettles. Here, however, willing to be useful she helped to teach school, studying nights by a chip-fire to keep in advance of her pupils. Many of our public speakers of today, can date their first lessons in elocution and arithmetic to her training.
Elvira crossed the mountains in the first company in 1848, and arrived in this valley by the side of two yoke of oxen, with a sick sister and a brother-in-law with a broken arm, in her care. Her first lesson in surgery was the helping to set this arm, and her first practice in medicine was the breaking up of her sister's fever. Soon after this Elvira made herself a pair of buck-skin moccasins. The first meeting she attended was in a bowery, and her best calico dress had patches on the elbows. Before the next winter she worked six weeks for a pair of leather shoes. There was not much aristocracy here in those days. They held meetings in tents, sang praises to God, and danced with as much sincerity and purity of heart as even King David did before the Lord, for they knew God was with them. Said her sister, who afterward turned from the faith: "If God had not been with us when we were driven out at the battle of Nauvoo, we should have perished, but when we were starving he sent quails, and they were so tame they came into our tents where the sick were lying, and they even took them in their hands." Thousands witnessed the miracle. After they arrived in the valley, crickets large and numerous threatened their crops, (their only recourse) but the Lord in answer to prayers sent sea-gulls in such flocks that the air was darkened, and they destroyed the crickets. The heavens were not as brass above their heads; they helped and loved each other, and God heard and loved them. Their laws were few and simple; in a Bishop's court a brother forgave his brother.
In the summer of 1849, Elvira earned fifty dollars at different kinds of work, and making straw hats for the emigrants going to California to get gold the Battallion boys were the first to find. In the spring of 1849, Elvira had been appointed to go on a mission to the Society Islands; this was postponed, and in the spring of 1851, with her husband, she started in the company of Apostle Parley P. Pratt on his mission to Chili. They were harassed by Indians while crossing the deserts, and Elvira arrived in Los Angelos sick with a fever, and laid sixteen days in a tent made of sheets. Her sister here buried her babe; took steamer and landed in San Francisco, Elvira contracting inflammatory rheumatism on the voyage, and was stiff and helpless four days. Parley P. Pratt administered to her, and the next morning she helped to get breakfast. Through some trouble between the Islanders and the French the Mission was changed to the Sandwich Islands. Having been left behind to recruit her health, Sister Elvira went to work in a hotel as waiter at one hundred dollars a month, and soon was able to pay her passage to the Sandwich Islands, besides having means to support her while there. On arriving at Lahaiva, on the island of Mai, the captain gave her his arm and they walked through the streets in quest of her husband followed by the natives, old and young, they to admire and be friendly, the strangers feeling mortified with such honors. Remained a month there then embarked on the ship Hulumann. The previously mentioned captain came on board and treated them to a Christmas dinner. After four days sail landed at Kawhow, Hawaii, in the fall of 1851. Sister Elvira lived six months among the natives on their island food, mostly of taro and sweet-potatoes made into a batter and soured, short rations at that, yet attained the weight of one hundred and fifty pounds. Says she: "Don't smile when I tell you I often thought of Alexander Selkirk who said he was 'Monarch of all he surveyed.' Here months passed, living on the lava strewn island, no ships came to bring tidings, I was left to view the rolling billows that separated me from all I held dear, country and friends. Fancy the loneliness of those long months, not a white woman to speak to in my own tongue. Here I was studying a foreign language and teaching the natives to speak my own." In the mean time sister Elvira acquired the art of swimming, which means enabled her afterwards, to all appearances, to save one of the ladies of this book from drowning in a bottomless spring in Utah. During eleven months spent on four islands, Sister Elvira wrote a letter to a native lawyer in his own tongue, and although over thirty years have elapsed she is able to converse fluently with the natives who have gathered to this city.
Leaving all her means but five dollars with her husband, she arrived penniless at Honoluluen routefor San Francisco, by counsel of Phillip B. Lewis, President of the Sandwich Islands Mission. Here, in answer to prayer, after all other efforts had failed to procure means, a stranger she never saw before nor since, called upon her. In answer to his few questions he learned her situation as a missionary's wife preaching the Gospel without purse or scrip. He handed her the money, eighty dollars, to pay her passage to San Francisco, and she gave him her note for it, and embarked. Three times she escaped shipwreck, the last time, just outside the Golden Gate of the Bay of San Francisco. On her arrival there she borrowed the money of a friend and returned it to the stranger, and repaid this by making fine shirts at ten dollars apiece. The wife of the gentleman for whom she made them presented her with a complete set of clothing, the outer garment being a new silk dress. Sister Elvira says: "The Lord knew I needed them and I thanked Him and the giver also." Of the San Francisco Saints she says, "The welcome I received by the remaining Saints there, and the heavenly influence we enjoyed together is the one most marked oasis of my life, for truly they blessed me and God blessed them." Sister Elvira wasted no time, but in various ways earned means, part of which she sent to assist the Sandwich Islands Mission. In 1856 she returned to Salt Lake City, riding seven hundred miles on horseback, and here resumed school teaching. In 1859, she assisted in the amputation of a dear friend's arm. In 1860, traveled east to visit kindred and rode sixteen days by stage. In 1864, went to Wheaton College and returned home after nearly two years absence. From 1859 to 1863 had taught school in ten different places, generally four terms a year. Had during these previous years taken at different times four homeless children into her care until other ways opened for them. In 1873 adopted a boy whom she schooled and provided for for ten years. In this year also began writing up her genealogical record which she has traced back to the year 1600. In 1876 wrote a pamphlet on seri-culture, and suggested the appointment of a meeting on that subject. Advanced as a loan the first fifty dollars to establish the "home made straw hat industry." Canvassed the Thirteenth Ward and traveled in the interest of theWoman's Exponent. Was appointed agent for and canvassed the city for theWomen of Mormondom, and raised fifty shares ($25.00 each) in one day. Was appointed a committee for purchasing grain for the Grain Association (President E. B. Wells). In 1876 traveled south and held forty-five meetings in twenty-seven days, in the interest of Women's Work in Utah. In 1878 attended the Deseret University. Up to date of February, 1879, had earned over nine thousand dollars by her own labors, and built a good commodious house, her home. October, 1879, started East to continue her medical studies which she had prosecuted at home for several years, and attended three complete courses; returning home in the spring of 1883, prepared to pursue this her chosen vocation after a long and eventful experience in many fields of usefulness.
Realizing her own early desires for knowledge and the inconvenience of limited privileges, Dr. Barney fitted up her large house to accommodate lady boarders, thus affording them the convenience of home and college under one roof, with the privilege of boarding themselves, and receiving gratuitous medical instructions for one year.
She has crossed the Pacific Ocean twice, the western deserts twice, the eastern plains five times: has wrought at different humble occupations belonging to a new country, learning later fine embroidery, pencil work, draughting in architecture, delivering lectures, &c., one tenth cannot be told in these pages. Sister Barney also has received the gifts of prophecy, tongues and interpretation of tongues, as the writer can testify.
Her step is as quick as ever, her carriage erect; she says; "My life has been real, my life has been earnest, and now if any of my works praise me then truly I am praised. If any one has done better I should be happy to read their chapter; yet I realize many of our Mormon ladies' lives have been similar, and it is such women that will teach and train sons for the nation."
Emily Hill Woodmansee, daughter of Thomas and Elizabeth Slade Hill, was born in the south-west of England, near Warminster, Wilts, March 24, 1836. Quoting her own words:
"Of my pedigree I will simply say that my parents were honorable, hard-working people, too independent in spirit to stoop to mean actions, much less to sully their conscience to curry favor. The youngest living of eleven children, I fully enjoyed the privileges often accorded the youngest member of a family, (ie) of having things my own way. My parents as well as my brothers and sisters were very kind to me, and I can truly say—slightly reversing a word in the lines of one of our poets, that,
'I never knew what trouble wasTill I became a Mormon.'
'I never knew what trouble wasTill I became a Mormon.'
"When but a mere child I was much concerned about my eternal salvation and felt that I would make any sacrifice to obtain it. I asked all kinds of questions of my mother and sisters, seeking how to be saved, but could get no satisfaction from them nor from the religious body (Wesleyans) to which they belonged.
"Hungry and thirsty for truth, I searched the Scriptures, invariably turning to the lives of ancient apostles or to the beautiful writings of the Prophet Isaiah. I was never weary of reading his prophecies, the glory of a Latter-Day Zion that burthened his inspirations possessed for me a charm irresistible. Truly I was waiting for something, I knew not what, that came to me sooner than I expected.
"When I was about twelve years old, my cousin, Miriam Slade, (afterward the wife of Edward Hanham,) came to visit us; she was very merry-hearted and we had anticipated her visit, expecting a good deal of fun; but she was too full of a 'new religion' to do anything but preach. 'God,' she said, 'had spoken from the heavens to a man named Joseph Smith; the Gospel was restored to the earth, the honest in heart were commanded to gather to the land of Zion for safety, for this was the last Dispensation, and the hour of God's judgment had come!'
"Right faithfully she testified to her knowledge of these things, much to the surprise of our family, who were considerably amused at her earnestness as well as at the novelty of her belief, and notwithstanding I listened attentively, I thought her assertions too good to be true. The next Sunday my cousin informed us that the Latter-Day Saints had appointed a meeting for that day at an adjoining village called Chalford, and invited us to go. As it was a distance of five or six miles, making a long walk there and back, none of my brothers cared to go, and my elder sisters considered themselves altogether too respectable (?) to attend an outdoor meeting of such a primitive sect, therefore they declined to go, and no one thought of sending me till I suggested it. Turning to my father, my sisters said, (laughingly,) 'Yes, send Em, she will tell us all about it.'
"In five minutes Miriam Slade and myself were on the road, accompanied by Mr. Wm. Bowring, (brother to Henry E. Bowring of Brigham City,) and by Edward W. Tullidge, then a youth, but now well-known as a talented writer and also as the proprietor and editor ofTullidge's Quarterly Magazine. Never, never shall I forget that day, surely it was the turning point of my whole life. A few devoted worshippers of truth met together in a small house, to bear their testimony to one another and to worship God! And He was in their midst and that to bless them. Even as in the Day of Pentecost, they spake in tongues and prophesied, which prophecy I have seen fulfilled. Unlike the Jews who were 'pricked in their hearts,' I did not even ask, 'What shall I do to be saved.' 'The way' was open before me, and simple and young as I was I instinctively knew that 'I could not err therein.'
The Eternal! spake, and honest hearts discerningThe voice and message of the holiest One!Hail it as though their souls had e'en been yearningFor light and truth, e'en since their lives begun.
The Eternal! spake, and honest hearts discerningThe voice and message of the holiest One!Hail it as though their souls had e'en been yearningFor light and truth, e'en since their lives begun.
"It was indeed as though I had been brought 'out of darkness into marvelous light,' and I could not shut my eyes against it.
"In the evening I attended an out door 'Mormon Meeting,' and though naturally sensitive to ridicule, I did not care the least for the sneers of the crowd but joined in the songs of the Saints as well as I could, for in my childish way I wanted it understood that I was not ashamed to count one with the peculiar people called Latter-Day Saints.
"Many a time since, when 'offences' have come in my way, over which with mortal weakness I have almost stumbled, the testimony of that eventful day has been to me a precious recollection which nothing could obliterate. I was so overjoyed at finding what I had so long desired, and so eager to convince my friends that I could hardly wait to get home. As soon as I was inside the house and almost before anyone else could speak, I astounded them all by the emphatic declaration that I knew the Latter-Day Saints were the right people; and I would join them as soon as I was big enough. I was never sent to 'take notes' of the 'Mormons' again, but on the contrary was closely watched lest I should be led away by a 'sect that was everywhere spoken against.' My early study of the Scriptures now stood me in good stead, and I searched the Bible more diligently than ever, so that I might give a good reason for my faith to the hosts that assailed me, (right reverends among the number,) who, finding it easier to cry 'delusion' than to prove it, generally wound up by informing me that I wasn't old enough to know my own mind, and was altogether too young to judge of so grave a matter. Meantime my persistent faith invoked such a tempest of wrath over my head, that I could not even get an opportunity to be baptized, and the elders did not think it wisdom (because of my tender years) to perform the ceremony without my parents' consent. I well remember looking forward to a period when I should be old enough to act for myself, and it seemed a lifetime.
"About this time one of the elders brought Brother John Halliday (brother to Bishop Halliday of Santaquin) to our house, who bore such a powerful testimony to the divine mission of Joseph Smith, that my sister, Julia, (now Mrs. Ivins of St. George) exclaimed, 'If ever there was a man of God I'm sure he is one, and I'll be a Latter-Day Saint, too!' From that time I had a friend in the family, and we were both determined that cost what it might we would be true to the light within us. Only once in a great while could we steal away and meet with the Saints, but although we were not yet baptized we partook of the sacrament and paid out our pocket money to the Church funds like actual members.
"On one of these occasions Brother Halliday blessed me and confirmed upon me the promise that I should write in prose and in verse and thereby comfort the hearts of thousands. After this I was baptized March 25, 1858, I was then sixteen, but had virtually been a Latter-Day Saint for four years.
"Denied the privilege of freely meeting with the Saints, I all the more earnestly desired to gather to Zion; but fearing I might be forcibly detained if I attempted to leave home directly for America, I obtained my parents' consent to visit my sister, Julia—who had already gone to Northampton (quite a long distance from home) hoping that the way would open up, so we might earn enough to emigrate. There for the first time I enjoyed religious freedom and there also I took my lessons of hard times; preparing me for greater hardships in store.
"In the month of May, 1856, we sailed for America on the ship,Thornton, Captain Collins, commander; Brother James G. Willie had charge of the Saints, (a company of eight hundred) and a good captain he was. We had a pleasant trip with the exception of one heavy storm which I would not have missed for a great deal.
"From New York we traveled by rail and by way of Lake Erie to the camping ground in the neighborhood of Iowa City; there we were obliged to wait till the companies were ready to start, and surely if we had been natural or unnatural curiosities we could not have been commented on or stared at any more by the people surrounding us. 'Mormons, men, women and children, and worse, a lot of young girls, bound for Salt Lake and going to pull 'hand carts!' Shocking!'
"Yet, for the potent reason that no other way seemed open, and on the principle of 'descending below all things,' I made up my mind to pull a hand cart. 'All the way to Zion,' a foot journey from Iowa to Utah, and pull our luggage, think of it! Anonymous letters, and warnings from sympathizing outsiders were mysteriously conveyed to us, setting forth the hardships and impossibilities of such a journey, and offering us inducements to stay. Many who started out with us backed out in a few days; my sister broke down and was unable to walk and I remember asking myself (footsore and weary with the first week of walking and working) if it was possible for me, faith or no faith, to walk twelve hundred miles further. The flesh certainly was weak but the spirit was willing, I set down my foot that I would try, and by the blessing of God I pulled a hand cart a thousand miles and never rode one step. Some thrilling scenes I could relate incident to that journey, but must forbear for want of space. Suffice it to say that after a long and wearisome journey, being entirely out of provisions, we halted for want of strength to proceed, and never should I have beheld (with mortal eyes) 'the city of the Saints' had not the compassionate people of Utah sent out a number of brave-hearted brethren with food and clothing to our relief. May they all be everlastingly blessed.
"In the month of June, 1857, firmly believing in the principle of plural marriage I entered into it. The result of this marriage was one child only, for a little more than three years after said marriage, my husband went on a mission to England, and after I had worked for upwards of four years to maintain myself and little one, my husband himself sent me word that he never intended to set foot in Utah again. And here I must be allowed to say in behalf of myself and other true women who have endured such separations, and to whom, perhaps, it is counted as nothing, no one can realize what such an ordeal is, unless they have passed through it. All that I had hitherto suffered seemed like child's play compared to being deserted by the one in whom I had chosen to place the utmost confidence, who himself had fixed an impassable gulf between us by ignoring the very principles by which he had obtained me, leaving myself and my little one (for all he knew) to sorrow and destitution. Harder still, was it for me to believe that this abandonment had been deliberately planned. I could not accept the fact till President Young, (speaking to me of my husband), emphatically said, 'Don't you know he asked for his mission? If he hadn't I wouldn't have sent him till the day of his death!' That was enough for me, I comprehended all that it meant, and independent of Brigham Young's word I was forced to believe it.
"I had striven hard to keep out of debt,—determined to do my part as a missionary's wife, that when my husband came back he might not be hampered on my account. Nevertheless 'hard times' stared me in the face, and I was almost overwhelmed by circumstances beyond my control. During the winter season of 1863-4, (owing to the war and many circumstances combined) provisions and other necessaries commanded almost fabulous prices, and I could not see how I should ever be able to keep 'the wolf from the door.' To add to my trouble, the house I occupied (and to which I had been led to believe I had some claim,) was sold over my head and thus I had the prospect of being homeless, at a time when rents were going up double and treble. One night when I was so weary with overwork and anxiety, pondering what to do, these words impressed me as if audibly spoken, TRUST IN GOD AND THYSELF. Instantly I arose and composed the following lines:
A priceless boon! is a friend indeedGreet him as such when his face you see;But those who fail thee in time of need—Shun them, as false friends should shunned be.They proffer this, and they promise that,But promise, alas, is a doubtful elf.So would'st thou weather the storms of life—Trust thou in God! and thyself.Keep a brave heart, though the waves roll high,Let thine aim be true as the magnet's steel;Look unto God! with a steadfast eye,And trust Him always, in woe or weal.Man may deceive, but God! is true;Mortals may pander to love of pelf,Like "Angel's visits" firm friends are few,Trust thou in God! and thyself,Should friends, nor fortune, nor home be thine—Cringe not for this, nor beg for that;The earnest seekers will surely findSomething to thoroughly labor at.'Tis a cheering maxim to keep in view—That diligence leads to plenty's shelf;And whatsoever thy hands pursue—Trust thou in God! and thyself.What! though thy flesh and thy strength should fail?Surely 'were better to wear than rust;Than never to try, 'twere better to die,In striving bravely to fill our trust,But fear not thou, for God! is good—He is the giver of strength and wealth.When faithless feelings or friends intrude—Trust thou in God! and thyself.
A priceless boon! is a friend indeedGreet him as such when his face you see;But those who fail thee in time of need—Shun them, as false friends should shunned be.They proffer this, and they promise that,But promise, alas, is a doubtful elf.So would'st thou weather the storms of life—Trust thou in God! and thyself.
Keep a brave heart, though the waves roll high,Let thine aim be true as the magnet's steel;Look unto God! with a steadfast eye,And trust Him always, in woe or weal.Man may deceive, but God! is true;Mortals may pander to love of pelf,Like "Angel's visits" firm friends are few,Trust thou in God! and thyself,
Should friends, nor fortune, nor home be thine—Cringe not for this, nor beg for that;The earnest seekers will surely findSomething to thoroughly labor at.'Tis a cheering maxim to keep in view—That diligence leads to plenty's shelf;And whatsoever thy hands pursue—Trust thou in God! and thyself.
What! though thy flesh and thy strength should fail?Surely 'were better to wear than rust;Than never to try, 'twere better to die,In striving bravely to fill our trust,But fear not thou, for God! is good—He is the giver of strength and wealth.When faithless feelings or friends intrude—Trust thou in God! and thyself.
"Immediately after this my way opened up before me, almost within the week I secured another home, which if not very commodious had for me the satisfying charm of beingmy own.
"On May 7, 1864, I again entered into plural marriage, and was sealed by Heber C. Kimball to Joseph Woodmansee, to whom I have borne four sons and four daughters. Two of these died in infancy, leaving me a family of seven, including my first born.
"Nearly twenty years have rolled by since my second marriage, during which time I have seen many changes of fortune which I cannot now relate, but I will say this much of my children's father. Misfortunes that have befallen him have never affected his faith, he has proven his allegiance to the principles and priesthood of God at considerable sacrifice to himself and family, enduring reverses uncomplainingly.
"Of my children I need say but little, but I fervently hope that each and all of them may seek and obtain for themselves a knowledge of the truth, (called Mormonism) for I know it can make them wise unto salvation, and may they be willing if needs be to endure reproach and privation for principle's sake. I doubt not that all my troubles have been for my good, and to-day I am more than thankful for my standing in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints."
And wherefore should I cease to singOf Zion and the Latter Day?I could not find a nobler theme,Nor choose a lovelier, loftier lay.Too insignificant is my praise—Too feeble is my lyre and tongue,For of these longed for, Latter DaysHave royal bards and prophets sung.Ne'er shall our hearts ungrateful be;Ne'er shall our songs be void of praise,For God has suffered us to see"The Zion" of the Latter Days.Though all the world in scorn deride—Our numbers shall not cease to flow;Our soul's sincerest, purest loveThrills unto Zion's weal or woe.When she is sad, then I am sad;When she is bound I am not free;When she is glad then I am gladAnd all things prosper well with me.I love to see her power extend,Her influence and her reign increase—Then wonder not, "for Zion's sake—Will I not hold my peace."
And wherefore should I cease to singOf Zion and the Latter Day?I could not find a nobler theme,Nor choose a lovelier, loftier lay.Too insignificant is my praise—Too feeble is my lyre and tongue,For of these longed for, Latter DaysHave royal bards and prophets sung.
Ne'er shall our hearts ungrateful be;Ne'er shall our songs be void of praise,For God has suffered us to see"The Zion" of the Latter Days.Though all the world in scorn deride—Our numbers shall not cease to flow;Our soul's sincerest, purest loveThrills unto Zion's weal or woe.
When she is sad, then I am sad;When she is bound I am not free;When she is glad then I am gladAnd all things prosper well with me.I love to see her power extend,Her influence and her reign increase—Then wonder not, "for Zion's sake—Will I not hold my peace."
"I desire to live to make up for past short-comings by future diligence, that I may help (in my humble way) to build up 'the kingdom whose dominion, power and greatness shall be given to the Saints of the most High! who shall possess it forever and ever.'"
The faith of the Saints shall astonish the worldAnd puzzle the wise to explain it;Hosannah! hosannah! Truth's flag is unfurled,And the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.
The faith of the Saints shall astonish the worldAnd puzzle the wise to explain it;Hosannah! hosannah! Truth's flag is unfurled,And the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.
"The University town of Cambridge, England, I am proud to say, is the place of my nativity. I was reared among its classic shades and bowers. For the last thirty years America has been my adopted country, and I love her with a loyal and devoted appreciation, but the home and the haunts of childhood and youth leave on every mind indelible impressions and when brought to a focus upon the past as at the present moment, 'The distant spires and antique towers' rise up before me in all their vividness by the power of that most wonderful faculty, MEMORY.
"I was born and reared in the High Church of England, and nothing but the high Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints could have caused me to secede from its high tenets and truly liberal principles; it stands second to none of the churches of the world.
"Any son or daughter might have been proud of such parents as mine, they were fine in person, highly moral, and intellectual, were descended from a highly born family, and were honored and respected by all who knew them; they reared their children with great care and watchfulness, giving them such an education as would fit them for all good society of whatever grade. Blessed be their memory!
"I was married at the early age of seventeen, but in my mind and character I was older than many girls at twenty. I have lived long enough to authorize the woman to sit in judgment on the girl.
"I had a sweet, happy home, for I had the faculty to make it so; I had ten beautiful children but death robbed me of several. We gave the surviving ones a liberal education with accomplishments; as they grew up they repaid us in being all we desired. From a child I had been accustomed to write much—keeping a journal and a book for choice extracts, etc. My father was unavoidably much away from home on business, but he enjoined me to write frequently to him, and to dohisbidding was my delight, for he was mybeau idealof all that was good. Since at nine or ten I became a letter writer, and the thousands I have written in my long life would form a towering paper pillar. After some years of my married life I became a writer for the local papers and also wrote two books, one for my girls and the other for the boys, 'The Toilet' and the 'Three Eras,' dedicating them to each. These books were patronized by the aristocracy of England. I also wrote considerable poetry all my life.
"In 1849, 'a change came o'er the spirit of my dream.' I had a young woman who had worked for me eleven years as dressmaker, she was highly respectable, conscientious and good. In September, 1849, she was in the house at work, and on the evening of the 4th, when work was laid aside, she told me she wished to speak to me privately, as she had something she wished to communicate to me. I at once gave her the audience she requested and she then laid before me the organization of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, with the first principles of the same. Of course I was startled! But the spirit of God witnessed to my spirit that she spoketruth! I compared all she told me by the Bible which had ever been my standard of truth—itendorsedall she said! I studied, I prayed,—she gave me to read 'Spencer's Letters'—they made me a willing convert. I read many other prominent works with which my teacher furnished me. Fifteen months passed, and yet I had not attended the Latter-Day Saint Meetings, or seen a single member, but this young woman, yet even at that time I was a confirmed Latter-Day Saint. I then was introduced to an elder from America, and after his first sermon I was baptized by him in the classic waters of the Camm, my native river.
"Soon I began to see the antagonisms I had to meet. I, a member of the Church of England. My grandfather a rector in the same, my father and my mother, my family and friends! All had to be met, could I bring the gray hairs of my parents in sorrow to the grave? Could I reduce my family to comparative poverty and reverses of every kind? Could Isolay my all upon the altar of my God? Could I like Abraham of old, arise and go to a far country—even the wilds of America? It would take more than I have space to elaborate this subject—suffice, strength was given me—I passed under 'the car of Juggernaut,' which is nooverstrainedflower of language but a veritable simile. Suffice, the votary lived! and I came outconvinced,determined, and the calm, as it were, of a summer morning was upon me! A conviction had been given me that it was indeed the work of the last days, when all dispensations should be gathered in one, when that people I had all my life prayed for in the Church of England should be 'prepared for the second coming of the Savior,' were indeed organized upon the earth by the voice of God Himself and His Son, Jesus Christ, appearing to a youth, even Joseph Smith, and appointing him as the prophet of the last dispensation, under the immediate direction of the Lord Jesus Himself. The Church was organized with six members, on the 6th of April, 1830.
"Of this Church I became a member by the requisite act of baptism by immersion, under the hands of the American missionary. From that time I had the spirit of 'gathering,' and in June, 1853, I left my home and many that were dear to me, my own immediate family accompanying me—and as I stood on the deck of theGolcondaI said, 'My native land, good night.' Ox teams conveyed us over the prairies, and on the 19th of September, 1853, we entered Salt Lake City. Here we built a home which has been my sanctuary. IknowGod was with me, and my loved ones also were with me. The union of my family was remarkable, that, and the Spirit of God enabled us to 'remove mountains.'
"In a brief sketch like this it is impossible to give even the outline, but could I place in a book, first ourantecedents, and then the marvelous events of those three years, the laying aside our Lares and Penates, surely the skeptic would agree that there was a power with us that the world knows nothing of! for even though weknewwe were the agents it was 'marvelous in our eyes.' Perhaps I have filled the brief space allotted me for the purpose for which I was called upon to write, surely my few words will be a testimony that I rejoice I am a Latter-Day Saint. I have passed through many reverses and tribulations, but in my darkest hours the Gospel has been a light upon my path and a lamp for my feet, and I realize day by day the smile and approbation of God upon me.
"It has been my delight to write for the Saints since I have lived in Salt Lake City, and my reward has been their love and rich appreciation of my writings. I have been a constant writer for theWoman's Exponent, a paper got up and entirely carried on by the women of our people. President Young desired me to write for it and I have done so with pleasure to the best of my ability, both in prose and in verse.
"For two years I had a school in my own house, and it promised to be a success, but my health failed, and to my sorrow I had to relinquish it. I was appointed to preside over the Young Ladies Mutual Improvement Association of the Seventeenth Ward, which position I held for one year, but resigned from feeble health. I was then appointed First Counselor to Marinda Hyde, President of the Relief Society of the Seventeenth Ward, which office I still have the honor to hold. My desire has ever been to be useful 'in my day and generation,' especially in the work of the last days, for in that I have joy and ample satisfaction.
"The history of the people of God as we read it in the Bible, repeats itself in a remarkable manner in the Church of Jesus Christ upon the earth to-day, and those who need a testimony of its truth, I advise them to compare and observe the workings of the self-same spirit of antagonism, and they will hardly need another."
I select a portion of one of Mrs. King's poems; her prose and verse are alike, always lofty in character; her prose writings would form more than one valuable volume for the libraries of the Saints, or indeed those not of our faith. Historical and character sketches seem a peculiar gift with her. Among the many admirers of her poems the English Saints regard her with special fondness, for is she not their own? and they anticipate her contributions, as we look forward to flowers of spring, to summer's wealth of fruits, to autumn's harvest time.
REST."I've fought the battle all my lifeOf outward foes and inward strife;The strife which flesh and spirit feelAs keenly as the barbed steel;For ah! my soul has longed to beA perfect thing for God to see!And feels impatient for the timeWhen I the heavenly heights shall climb,The good, in all the ages past,My eyes in love I've ever cast,Would imitate, admire, and aimTheir glorious pinnacles to gain;A pedestal to call my own,One which my form might rest upon;My spirit feet cannot yet standUpon the platform they command,But well I know I have been blest,And shall, in time, attain the rest;And I have sometimes felt ere whileI moved 'neath God's effulgent smileThat shed around me warmth and peace,And gave my captive mind release.The earth and every living thingDid tribute to my spirit bring;And then my soul was born anew,Begotten by the warmth and dewWhich God's own spirit cast around,And placed my feet on holy ground.All things seemed tinged with light of heaven,My friends most loved, my foes forgiven!The fountain in my heart, to meBrought 'living water,' ecstacy!* * * * * * * * * *A little Goshen was my home,For joy and peace around it shone;And labor's self became delight,Making all healthy, strong and bright;And loving spirits gathered thereAs angels faithful, fond and fair.Was I not blest? Yes, I WAS blest,And truly 'twas a time of rest;Yes, rest from sorrow I had known,In youth, my sun but rarely shone,But, oh! I fought for joy and peace,And God, in mercy, sent release.And blest me with so bright a timeThat's rarely known in earthly clime!And grateful did my soul ariseTo Him who gave this paradise.But, oh! this picture! its reverse!A mighty contrast did disperse;The light and warmth would be withdrawnAnd I left freezing and forlorn;The heavens seemed brass above my head,The earth looked dark as molten lead;My God was hid beneath a cloudAnd I, like corse within its shroud!Alone, forsaken, desolate thingHoarding my sorrows like a stingThat probed and barbed my stranded soul,And well-nigh crushed all self-control;The loved and loving were away,And I to foes was left a prey;It seemed all blessings were withdrawn,And I left stranded and forlorn,To see if I would faithful standAnd still hold on to virtue's hand.Yes, many such ordeal I've passed,And know I have not seen the last.Oh! Father! take my shrinking soulBeneath Thy love and sweet control;Thy feeble, trembling child, oh spare!Lay on no more than I can bear.May I endure unto the end,Whatever trials may portend;But Thou alone must bear me up,Or I shall fail to drain the cup."
REST.
"I've fought the battle all my lifeOf outward foes and inward strife;The strife which flesh and spirit feelAs keenly as the barbed steel;For ah! my soul has longed to beA perfect thing for God to see!And feels impatient for the timeWhen I the heavenly heights shall climb,The good, in all the ages past,My eyes in love I've ever cast,Would imitate, admire, and aimTheir glorious pinnacles to gain;A pedestal to call my own,One which my form might rest upon;My spirit feet cannot yet standUpon the platform they command,But well I know I have been blest,And shall, in time, attain the rest;And I have sometimes felt ere whileI moved 'neath God's effulgent smileThat shed around me warmth and peace,And gave my captive mind release.The earth and every living thingDid tribute to my spirit bring;And then my soul was born anew,Begotten by the warmth and dewWhich God's own spirit cast around,And placed my feet on holy ground.All things seemed tinged with light of heaven,My friends most loved, my foes forgiven!The fountain in my heart, to meBrought 'living water,' ecstacy!
* * * * * * * * * *
A little Goshen was my home,For joy and peace around it shone;And labor's self became delight,Making all healthy, strong and bright;And loving spirits gathered thereAs angels faithful, fond and fair.Was I not blest? Yes, I WAS blest,And truly 'twas a time of rest;Yes, rest from sorrow I had known,In youth, my sun but rarely shone,But, oh! I fought for joy and peace,And God, in mercy, sent release.And blest me with so bright a timeThat's rarely known in earthly clime!And grateful did my soul ariseTo Him who gave this paradise.But, oh! this picture! its reverse!A mighty contrast did disperse;The light and warmth would be withdrawnAnd I left freezing and forlorn;The heavens seemed brass above my head,The earth looked dark as molten lead;My God was hid beneath a cloudAnd I, like corse within its shroud!Alone, forsaken, desolate thingHoarding my sorrows like a stingThat probed and barbed my stranded soul,And well-nigh crushed all self-control;The loved and loving were away,And I to foes was left a prey;It seemed all blessings were withdrawn,And I left stranded and forlorn,To see if I would faithful standAnd still hold on to virtue's hand.Yes, many such ordeal I've passed,And know I have not seen the last.Oh! Father! take my shrinking soulBeneath Thy love and sweet control;Thy feeble, trembling child, oh spare!Lay on no more than I can bear.May I endure unto the end,Whatever trials may portend;But Thou alone must bear me up,Or I shall fail to drain the cup."
"In the original design of the picture Representative Women of Deseret, I did not include myself, but by the request of those whose wishes I have always endeavored to fulfill, now do so, although there are several to whom I would prefer giving place.
"I was born in Boston, Massachusetts, October 9, 1844. My father was John Joyce, from St. John, New Brunswick—his parents were both from England. I have heard my mother say that my uncle, Oliver Joyce, planted the English flag on the Chinese wall at the time of the war (about 1840) between those countries. I do not know whether he was an officer, color bearer or ordinary private.
"My mother, Caroline A. Joyce, was the eldest daughter of John Perkins, a sea captain, and his wife, Caroline Harriman. The Perkins and Harriman families were among the early Puritan emigrants, the property they first built upon still being in the possession of their descendants. I have heard my mother speak of the oak stairs and floors being so worn with age that they bent beneath the tread even when she was a child. My mother's mother was the daughter of Elder John Harriman, well known in New Hampshire as the occasional traveling companion of Lorenzo Dow, but more particularly as the founder of a sect called the 'New Light Christian Baptists.' He was the son of John Harriman and the daughter of a Penobscot chief who was friendly to the white people, and permitted his only daughter to receive Christian baptism, and she was afterwards married to him publicly in church. This union afforded peace and security to the settlers and gave them the alliance if needed, of a powerful tribe. The son of this marriage received an education and married. A few weeks after, and at the age of twenty-one, he 'received a visit from a personage who gave him a new doctrine to preach to the children of men.' He awoke his wife, Ruth, told her the vision and she believed him. In the morning he began to arrange his worldly affairs so as not to interfere with his call and began to preach, accompanied by his young wife, who rose when he had done speaking and bore her testimony to what he had said. He traveled a certain circuit, holding two and three days' meetings wherever he stopped, building up quite a large church in his locality. He preached seventy-one years and died at the age of ninety-two. He never cut his hair from the time of his call to the ministry, and sometimes wore it braided in a queue, sometimes flowing in waves upon his shoulders, as in his portrait. His wife, Ruth, lived beyond her one hundredth birthday. His son, John, became a minister, but his daughter (my grandmother) was more worldly minded. Once when he entered the room she was standing before a mirror surveying her appearance, being attired for some special occasion. He quietly stepped up to her and with a pair of scissors cut off the long black ringlets that fell like a mantle upon her bare shoulders, saying; 'These come between you and your God.' This did not, however, quench the worldly spirit within her, for she at the age of sixteen eloped with and was married to John Perkins, a young sea captain, a God-fearing man but not a church member then or ever afterwards in this life. She was very industrious, however, and had at that age spun all her bed and table linen, etc. She became quite a politician and used to write articles of that character, and the young men of the town used to gather round her hearth and ask her opinion on political matters. She also composed for them campaign songs, both words and music. My mother has told me the only dancing she ever saw in her childhood was when her mother, inspired by the patriotic songs she would be singing, would dance to and fro at her spinning, instead of stepping—improvising step and figure. She had eight sons that she said she was 'raising for her country.' Sure enough two of them went to the war (twenty years ago) and laid down their lives; Warren and Andrew Jackson, (so named because he was born on the day of President Jackson's second inauguration.) Grandma was an Andrew Jackson Democrat, he was her verybeau idealof a man. Charles served two terms and returned safe. Lawrence, my patriot grandmother's youngest boy, enlisted at seventeen and was sent back; 'Too young,' they told him, but he waited one year and went again and this time they took him, and he too was spared to return home.
"Thaddeus sailed to Labrador through many years, and John to the West Indies. Her eldest daughter was my mother. When my mother heard and received the Gospel in Boston, she hastened home to bear the good tidings and obtain their permission for her baptism. She found them bitterly opposed to this, her father reticent, her mother reproachful. Just at this time Elder John Harriman arrived to hold a three days' meeting. Preparations had been made for his coming, and on his arrival my grandmother received him in her best parlor and after the usual salutations were over, unfolded to him the story of my mother's conversion, that she had gone insane and wanted to join the Mormons. He asked, 'Where is Caroline?' adding, reflectively, 'if the Lord has any more light for the children of men, I for one am willing to receive it.' His grandchild, overhearing this, was filled with joy. Her mother came out and told her to put on her bonnet and shawl. Not knowing what was wanted of her to perform she obeyed, and by the time she was ready, found her brother, John, waiting with a horse and sleigh, and seating herself therein was rapidly whirled away to some relatives several miles distant, to remain there until sent for. Said she, 'I never saw my grandfather again.' This was a specimen of my grandma's executive ability; no circumlocution about her.
"I will give her own account of her receiving the Gospel, from a portion of her manuscripts:
"'In the year 1842, I was living in the city of Boston, State of Massachusetts. One day I heard that a strange sect were preaching in Boylston Hall, they professed to believe in the same Gospel as taught by Jesus Christ and the ancient Apostles. I went to hear them. As we entered the hall they were singing a new song—the words were:
'The Spirit of God like a fire is burning,The Latter Day Glory begins to come forth,The visions and blessings of old are returning,The angels are coming to visit the earth.' &c.
'The Spirit of God like a fire is burning,The Latter Day Glory begins to come forth,The visions and blessings of old are returning,The angels are coming to visit the earth.' &c.
"After the song a young man [A] arose and taking for his text these words—'And in the last days it shall come to pass that the Lord's House shall be established in the tops of the mountains and all nations shall flow unto it,' said the time for the fulfillment of this prophecy was near at hand, an angel had appeared unto a man named Joseph Smith, having the keys of the Everlasting Gospel to be preached to this generation, that those who obeyed it would gather out from the wicked, and prepare themselves for the coming of the Son of Man. He spoke of the great work already commenced in these the last days, and while I listened, his words were like unto a song heard in my far off childhood, once forgotten but now returning afresh to my memory, and I cried for very joy. I went home to tell my father the good news, but my words returned to my own heart, for both my parents thought me insane, and talked to each other sadly of my condition and what to do with me. My heart was filled with sorrow and disappointment. I asked for the privilege of being baptized but was answered with these words by my father: 'You must leave home if you join those Mormons.' I went away and was baptized for the remission of my sins, but still with regret and an uncertainty as to therightto disobey my parents. Soon after, my father left the city, and my mother came and took me with her, to care for me, as she was fearful I would be 'ruined by those deceivers.' One night I had been to meeting where the Spirit of God seemed to fill the house, and returned home thankful to my Heavenly Father that I ever heard the Gospel. I laid down to rest beside my mother who commenced upbraiding me, and instantly I was filled with remorse that I was the cause of her unhappiness. I did not know what to say, and was hesitating, when, just over my head, avoice, not a whisper, but still and low, said these words: 'If you will leave father and mother, you shall have Eternal Life,' I asked, 'Mother, did you hear that?' She answered, 'You are bewitched!' I knew thenshehad not heard the voice, but my mind was at rest and I went to sleep. I have heard the same voice since, not in dreams, but in daylight, when in trouble and uncertain which way to go; and Iknow God livesand guides this people called 'Mormons,' I know also the gifts and blessings are in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and that same faith once delivered to the Saints is also ours, if welivefor it.
[Footnote A: Elder Erastus Snow. He afterward married her to her husband, and blessed her children's children.]
"'In the month of February, 1845, I left home, my native land and all the friends of my youthful days, and sailed in the ship,Brooklyn, for California. Before starting I visited my parents, then living in New Hampshire. I told them of my determination to follow God's people, who had already been notified to leave the United States, that our destination was the Pacific Coast, and we should take materials to plant a colony.
"'When the hour came for parting, my father could not speak. My mother asked, 'When shall we see you again, my child?' I answered, 'When there is a railroad across the continent.' God grant that prophecy may be fulfilled and her life be spared to see it. Iknewit would be there, even the 'highway cast up that the eagle's eye had never seen, nor the lion's foot had ever trod.'
"'I turned my back on all once dear, for the memory of that voice was in my ears—'If you will leave father and mother, you shall have eternal life,' and selling my household treasures, wrapped my child in my cloak (for the weather was bitter cold) and started on my long journey around the Horn.
"'Of all the unpleasant memories, not one half so bitter as that dreary six months' voyage in an emigrant ship. We were so closely crowded that the heat of the Tropics was terrible, but 'mid all our trials the object of our journey was never forgotten. The living faith was there and was often manifested. I remember well one dreadful storm during which we had to be hatched below, as the waves broke over the ship, and filled our staterooms.
"'While the elements were raging above, and we below were being tossed about like feathers, the good old captain came down among us wearing a solemn countenance. We tried to gather around him; he said to us: 'My friends, there is a time in a man's life when it is fitting to prepare to die, and that time has come to us; I have done all Ican do, but, unless God interposeswe must go down.' A good sister answered, 'Captain, wewere sent to California and we shall go there.' He went up stairs, saying, 'These people have a faith I have not.' And so it proved. We outrode the storm, we endured another off Cape Horn; we stopped and buried one of our dear sisters, a mother of seven children, (Mrs. Goodwin) at Juan Fernandez, and at last reached our new home, the last day of July, 1846, to find a country at war with our own government, a country barren and dreary, so unlike the California of to-day, but we trusted in God and he heard our prayers; and when I soaked the mouldy ship bread purchased from the whaleships lying in the harbor, (returned from a four years' cruise) and fried it in the tallow taken from the rawhides lying on the beach, God made it sweet to me and to my child, for on this food I weaned her. I used to think of Hagar and her babe, and of the God who watched over them, and again I remembered the voice and the words it spoke unto me—and took courage.
"'From that day to this, I can bear my testimony to all the world that I have known, and still know, this is the work of God and will exalt us if we seek to know His will, and knowing it, do it.'
"My mother's testimony, written at my request, was the last work performed by her hand. After finishing, she accompanied a caller to the gate, the chill night air penetrated her frame and morning found her sick with pneumonia. From that bed she was borne seven days later, from the earthly gaze of children and friends forever. They called it death, but to her it was the reward promised, and recorded by her own hand—'Eternal Life.'
"My mother had kept a daily journal on the ship,Brooklyn, also the first five or six years in San Francisco, calling it 'The Early Annals of California.' This I considered invaluable from the reliability and the fullness of its historic matter and data, and after her demise I searched for it but it was gone. This I thought strange indeed, for she had assured me of its preservation about eighteen months before her last illness. I have heard her relate many incidents of those times. Once when nearly famished, (hostilities not yet being concluded between Mexico and the United States,) two men ventured outside the town to lasso one of the cattle browsing so near them, but were themselves caught by cruel Mexicans in ambush, and killed and quartered, their bodies left lying on the sand in view of the wretched inhabitants. At another time a Mexican was intercepted and searched. In one boot was found an order from General Castro, to attack by night and kill everything above four years old that could speak English. The messenger was buried in the sand. After awhile the native women became curious, and some of them ventured past the guard after dark, and being touched with compassion, returned in the same cautious manner, with bottles ofleche(milk) slung around their waists under their flounced dress skirts, andtortillas(flour and water cakes) concealed beneath theirrevosas(mantles,) for the women and children. Soon after the landing the brethren strayed around, glad to be on land and looking to see what they could find. 'Any fruit?' asked one of a returning comrade. 'Yes,' said he, 'grape, lots of 'em.' There was a rush off in that direction and a fruitless search. Being sharply questioned, he pulled a handful of grape shot out of his pocket, which he had picked up from the scene of a recent engagement. The same day a gentleman passenger, traveling for pleasure, brought a bouquet of wild flowers to me, saying: 'Little lady, I herewith present you the first bouquet ever offered by a white man to a white woman in Yerba Buena.' Yerba Buena was the original name of San Francisco, and means 'good herb'—from a kind of pennyroyal growing wild there at that time. My mother kept the flowers many years and told me the story over their odorless ashes. My father and mother with many of the Saints, (sixteen families) moved from the ship into the 'old adobie,' partitioned off with quilts. Soon after he rented a house, but the largest room was required of him as a hospital for the wounded soldiers; the next largest for a printing office. The press was an old Spanish press, and there being no W in that alphabet, they used to turn the M upside down. My mother used to help decipher the dispatches, many of them being written on the battlefield with a burnt stick or coal.
"Her first Christmas dinner in San Francisco consisted of a quart of beans and a pound of salt pork, which the hospital steward brought to her; he told her he would be flogged if it became known. In after days he became her steward. One day Dr. Poet, surgeon of the navy, brought my mother a slice of ham, a drawing of tea and a lump of butter about the size of a walnut. Dr. Poet had told my father where he could purchase half a barrel of flour. After baking some flour and water cakes between two tin plates in the ashes, my mother brought her dear friend, Mrs. Robbins, (now in this city,) to share the repast. Said Mrs. Robbins: 'Mrs. Joyce, isn't this like Boston?' This was just after living for six months on mouldy shipbread. I have heard her say that often she was so hungry she would willingly have walked ten miles to obtain a slice of bread. Soon after this my mother helped to take care of the 'Donner Party,' who were found partly frozen and so famished that they were eating their dead companions. The girl she tended, told her that they grew to like it, and she had helped eat her brother. The true stories they told are too dreadful to repeat, particularly as some of them are still living. The Mormon Battallion came; peace was declared, the gold mines were discovered, and the circumstances of the Saints were changed from isolation and famine to wealth and grandeur. My father became very wealthy, but prosperity caused his apostacy. My grandfather, and uncle, John Perkins, both sea captains, came to see my mother. I well remember sitting on grandpa's knee and learning my alphabet from the large family Bible spread before him, he being my teacher. I often recall also the long evenings when Uncle John held me on his knee and sang the strange, pathetic, old-fashioned sea songs of which he knew so many and sang them so sweetly; I used to nestle closer to him, half frightened, and at last fall asleep. I remember one was, ''Twas down in the lowlands a poor boy did wander,' and I have never heard it since.
"In Boston my mother was called 'The Mormon nightingale.' Strangers indifferent to the Gospel would say, 'Let us go to Boylston Hall and hear the singing.' A gentleman of fortune offered to take her to Italy and educate her in singing, at the same time that Adelaide Philips (his protege) went, but her destiny was upon another stage, to sing the hymns of the newly-restored Gospel; and many have thought that she sang them as one inspired. Her rendering of Wm. Clayton's hymn, 'The Resurrection Day,' will be remembered by all who ever heard it. She purchased the first melodeon brought to San Francisco, (by a Mr. Washington Holbrook,) thereby causing a sensation among the wives of the ministers of five denominations, who each wanted it for their church. She went, during the ravages of the cholera, in San Francisco, and gathered together sixty orphan children, providing for them until a building spot, material and means were collected by subscription; and was one of the Board of managers of the Protestant Orphan Asylum thus originated and founded. I remember going with her and hearing the children sing, 'The Watcher,' a song of poverty and death. At the expiration of one year some of the ladies objected to having a Mormon officer among them, 'not considering Mormonism a religion at all,' although quite willing to accept the continuance of her contributions. She however found a larger and more congenial field of labor; brethren going on their missions, their families left behind in Utah, received her prompt remembrance. Also seeds, trees, &c., she sent to Utah spring and fall, through more than twenty years. My only sister was born in San Francisco, August, 1847, and died in St. George, Mrs. Helen F. Judd, one of the truest Saints I ever knew. In San Francisco Parley P. Pratt was a guest at my mother's house. She had loaned the Book of Mormon to a gentleman belonging to the Custom House; Colonel Alden A. M. Jackson. He had been in the Mexican War, at the battle of Buena Vista, and was with General Scott and Zachary Taylor through that campaign. He had two horses killed under him and received injuries that lasted throughout his life. When he returned the book he said he had read it day and night until finished, and wished to know where he could find a minister of the Mormon Church. She invited him to come that evening and meet the Apostle, author and poet, Parley P. Pratt. The gentlemen became so interested in their theme that my mother left the room without disturbing them, and giving a servant instructions to attend to Mr. Pratt's room, etc., retired. Descending the stairs next morning she heard Brother Pratt conversing, the lamp still burning. 'Good morning, gentlemen,' said she; Brother Pratt looked up—'Is it morning?' Colonel Jackson walked to the window—'Yes,' said he, 'another day has dawned, and another day has dawned for me—a beautiful one.' Brother Pratt looked out upon the garden and said significantly, 'It only needs water to complete the picture.' Colonel Jackson replied, 'I understand you, I am ready.' Turning to my mother Brother Pratt asked, 'Sister Joyce, have you renewed your covenants? A number are going to the North Beach to-morrow, will you go?' and she answered thoughtfully, 'Ten years ago last night I was baptized in the Atlantic at midnight; to-morrow I will be baptized in the Pacific.'
"My own parents had been separated since my father's apostacy. A few months after her baptism she moved to San Bernardino and there began building a beautiful home. Colonel Jackson, on his way to Utah was delayed, waiting for a train to cross the deserts, and my mother being his only acquaintance, he often sought her society, and at last determined to win her if possible, and some three years after their first acquaintance they were married. Never was a kinder father than he. Years added to years drew us all nearer to each other.
"In 1856, at the time of the Utah War, an armed mob of twenty-two men visited the four remaining Mormon families in San Bernardino, and calling father out from breakfast, ordered him to leave town with his family by nine o'clock. He replied he would not do it, prefacing and concluding the reply in language more forcible than elegant. They planted an old cannon on the public square, fired it off, rode around and threatened a great deal. Father's law office fronted the square; he went as usual to it, and in the afternoon they made a bonfire outside and coming in to him told him they intended to burn him alive. He continued writing, only telling them if they disturbed his papers he would send daylight through them. They left. When we were all ready to start for Utah, enemies obtained a writ from the court prohibiting my sister and I from leaving the State before we were of age. We were among enemies and powerless. My mother said, 'If we can't go, our property shall,' and with father's consent divided goods, provisions, arms and ammunition with the poor who could go. In 1864, my mother, sister and I came to Utah on a visit, returned here in 1867. In 1868 I was appointed Secretary of the Relief Society in St. George. In 1869 our parents brought us 'to the city' to receive our endowments, for which our joy and gratitude was beyond expression. I remained here, they returned to St. George where my sister married. In 1870 I became the second wife of George W. Crocheron. I believed I should better please my Heavenly Father by so doing than by marrying otherwise. Any woman, no matter how selfish, can be a first and only wife, but it takes a great deal more Christian philosophy and fortitude and self-discipline to be a wife in this order of marriage; and I believe those who choose the latter when both are equally possible, and do right therein, casting out all selfishness, judging self and not another, have attained a height, a mental power, a spiritual plane above those who have not. To do this is to overcome that which has its roots in selfishness, and it can be done if each will do what is right. In November, 1870, I was appointed Secretary of the Young Ladies Mutual Improvement Association of the Ninth Ward, which position I filled till home duties compelled my resignation. At times during thirteen years I have reported, in the sisters' meetings, chiefly those of the Fourteenth Ward. In 1876 our father died, and in five weeks after our mother followed him. Their graves are side by side in the valley of St. George, as beautiful as we could make them.