Leaves
from the Life of
Elizabeth Horrocks Jackson Kingsford
December, 1908
Ogden, Utah
I have a desire to leave a record of those scenes and events, thru
which I have passed, that my children, down to my latest posterity may read
what their ancestors were willing to suffer, and did suffer, patiently for the
Gospel’s sake. And I wish them to
understand, too, that what I now word is the history of hundreds of others,
both men, women and children, who have passed thru many like scenes for a
similar cause, at the same time we did.
I also desire them to know that it was in obedience to the commandments
of the true and living God, and with the assurance of an eternal reward – an
exaltation to eternal life in His kingdom – that we suffered these things. I hope, too, that it will inspire my
posterity with fortitude to stand firm and faithful to the truth, and be
willing to suffer, and sacrifice all things they may be required to pass thru
for the Kingdom of God’s sake.
I was born at Macclesfield,
Cheshire, England, Aug. 5, 1826. My
father’s name was Edward Horrocks, he was born at Bolton, Lancashire, England,
in 1806. He was in the manufacturing
business. He joined the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints about the year 1840. He came to Utah in 1857, and settled first in
Ogden city, and subsequently removed to Huntsville where he lived the remainder
of his natural life. He met his death in
a snowslide in Ogden Canyon, March 10, 1865.
He was 59 years of age.
My mother’s name was Alice
Houghton. She was the daughter of Samuel
Houghton, and Betty Eaton. She was born
in 1803, at Macclesfield, England. She
was also a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She died in 1856, being at that time 53 years
of age. Before she passed away, and
while on her death bed, she blessed me and told me that I should never want for
bread; and I can truly say that blessing has been realized; for up to the
present time, although I have been short on many other comforts of life, I have
always had bread enough for my children and myself to eat. For this great blessing I thank God, the
giver of every good thing that has come to us in this life.
I was the eldest of a family of
eleven children. When I was about seven
years old I was placed to work in a silk factory, and was thus enabled to earn
a little to assist my parents in supporting the family. In my girlhood I attended the Church and
Sunday School of the Wesleyan Methodists, of which church my parents were
members. My father was also a Local
Teacher.
In 1841, when I was fifteen
years old, I was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,
by James Gallay. I do not remember who
confirmed me. On May 28, 1848, I was
married to Elder Aaron Jackson. My
husband was born at Eyme, Derbyshire, England, Sept. 30, 1823. He died Oct. 25, 1856, of which more
hereafter. We were blessed with three
children, namely: Martha Ann, born at
Macclesfield, Cheshire, England, 6th Feb. 1849; Mary Elizabeth, born
22nd July 1851; Aaron, born 18th Jan. 1854, all at the
same place.
On the 22nd of May,
1856, we started on our oceanic and overland voyage for Utah, which was an
eventful and ever memorable journey. We
sailed from Liverpool, on board the sailing ship Horizon. My sister, Mary
Horrocks, was with us.
There were about seven hundred
passengers on board. We had a pretty
good passage over the sea. Only one
incident occurred to alarm the company.
When hoisting sail in a storm, once, the word was given “hoist
higher.” One of the passengers mistook
the word for “fire.” Happily the error
was discovered in time to prevent a panic on board. We landed at Boston, Mass., June 30th,
in good health. After a short stay in
Boston, we proceeded to Iowa City, which place we reached on July 8th. At this place we commended to make
preparations for our terrible overland journey across the vast plains to
Utah. The mechanics were very busy
manufacturing hand carts on which to haul our provisions, small children, etc. The hand carts or many of them, were built on
wooden axles instead of iron; and with leather boxes. We expected to find these vehicles already at
hand on our arrival at Iowa City. Thus
work consumed between two and three weeks of time, in which we should have been
wending our way to Salt Lake City. There
were two companies which contained about five hundred and fifty six
persons. There were one hundred and
forty six hand carts, seven wagons and six mules and horses, fifty milch cows
and beef animals. There was one wagon
loaded with goods for the Church. To
each of these two companies were apportioned a mule team, and two wagons hauled
by oxen. These were to carry the
commissary stores, tents, etc. On July
15th, the company left Iowa City under the captaincy of Elder James
G. Willie, for Florence, a distance of 277 miles. At Florence, the two hand-cart companies were
consolidated. Edward Martin was
appointed Captain and Daniel Tyler was his assistant. On Aug. 25th, the camp broke, traveled about
two miles and then camped.
On the 27th of Aug.
we made a final start from Cutlers’ Fork, on our long tedious journey across
the vast plains of a thousand miles to our future home. We continued our toil day after day, pulling
our hand-carts with our provisions or rations, our little children, etc.,
through deep sands, rocky roads, or fording streams. It was a dreary journey. Many miles each day were traveled ere, with
tired limbs we reached camp, cooked supper, ate and retired for the night to
rest, to pursue our monotonous course the following day.
On the 7th of Sept.,
near Soup Fork, we were overtaken and passed by Apostle F. D. Richards, C. H.
Wheellock and other returning missionaries from Europe. About the middle of this month we learned
that A. W. Babbitt had been killed by some hostile Indians.
After toilsome and fatiguing
travel, we reached Laramie on the 8th day of October. Here we rested for a short time. Our provisions by this time had become very
scant, and many of the company went to the Fort and sold their watches and
other articles of jewelry. With the
proceeds they purchased corn meal, flour, beans, bacon, etc., with which to
replenish their stores of food which had become very scant. Hitherto, although a ration of a pound of
flour had been served out daily to each person, it was found insufficient to
satisfy the cravings of hunger; but the weary pilgrims were then about to
experience more deprivations in this directions. We rested a couple of days and then resumed
our toilsome march. Shortly after
leaving Fort Laramie it became necessary to shorten our rations that they might
hold out, and that the company be not reduced to starvation. The reduction was repeated several
times. First, the pound of flour was
reduced to three-fourths of a pound, then to half of a pound, and afterward to
still less per day. However we pushed
ahead. The trip was full of adventures,
hair breadth escapes, exposure to attacks from Indians, wolves and other wild
beasts. When we reached the Black Hills,
we had a rough experience. The roads
were rocky, broken and difficult to travel.
Frequently carts were broken down and much delay was caused by the
needed repairs.
During the time of leaving
Laramie and reaching the Platte, my husband had been taken sick. He was afflicted with mountain fever. His appetite was good and he could eat more
than his rations. But his ambition was
gone. All attempts to arouse him to
energy or much active exertion ware futile.
On the 19th of Oct. the last crossing of the Platte River was
reached; but when we went into camp that noon day my husband was not
there. Two of the company went back to
look for him. They found him sitting by
the roadside, resting. He was very
weak. They assisted him into camp. When we resumed our journey he was put into a
wagon, and rode a few miles to the bank of the river, when it was discovered
that the teams had become so weak they were unable to haul the freight across
the stream, so my husband was compelled to alight.
“The river” says Elder John
Jaques, “Was wide, the current was strong, the water was exceedingly cold and
up to the wagon bed in the deepest parts, and the bed of the river was covered
with cobble stones.” Some of the men
carried some of the women on their backs or in their arms, but others of the
women tied up their skirts and waded through, like the heroines that they were,
and as they had gone thru many other rivers and creeks. My husband attempted to ford the stream. He had only gone a short distance when he
reached a sand bar in the river on the which he sank down through weakness and
exhaustion. My sister, Mary Horrocks
Leavitt, waded through the water to his assistance. She raised him up to his feet. Shortly afterward, a man came along on
horseback and conveyed him to the others side of the river, placed him on the
bank and left him there. My sister then
helped me to pull my cart with my three children and other matters on it. We had scarcely crossed the river when we
were visited with a tremendous storm of snow, hail, sand and fierce winds. It was a terrible storm from which both the
people and teams suffered. After
crossing the river, my husband was put on a hand cart and hauled into camp; and
indeed after that time he was unable to walk, and consequently provision had to
be made for him to ride in a wagon. As
soon as we reached camp, I prepared him some refreshment and placed him to rest
for the night. From this time my worst
experience commenced. The company had
now become greatly reduced in strength, the teams as well as the people. The teams had become so weak that the luggage
was reduced to ten pounds per head for adults, and five pounds for children
under eight years. And although the
weather was severe, a great deal of bedding and clothing had to be destroyed –
burned – as it could not be carried along.
This occurrence very much increased the suffering of the company, men,
women and children alike.
On the 20th of Oct.
we traveled, or almost wallowed, for about ten miles through the snow. At night, weary and worn out, we camped near
the Platte River, where we soon left it for the Sweetwater. We were visited with three days more
snow. The animals and immigrants were
almost completely exhausted. We remained
in camp several days to gain strength.
About the 25th of Oct., I think it was – I cannot remember
the exact date – we reached camp about sundown.
My husband had for several days previous been much worse. He was still sinking, and his condition now
became more serious. As soon as possible
after reaching camp I prepared a little of such scant articles of food as we
then had. He tried to eat but
failed. He had not the strength to
swallow. I put him to bed as quickly as
I could. He seemed to rest easy and fell
asleep. About nine o’clock I
retired. Bedding had become very scarce,
so I did not disrobe. I slept until, as
it appeared to me, about midnight. I was
extremely cold. The weather was bitter. I listened to hear if my husband breathed –
he lay so still. I could not hear
him. I became alarmed. I put my hand on his body, when to my horror
I discovered that my worst fears were confirmed. My husband was dead. He was cold and stiff
– rigid in the arms of death. It was a
bitter freezing night and the elements had sealed up his mortal frame. I called for help to the other inmates of the
tent. They could render me no aid; and
there was no alternative but to remain alone by the side of the corpse till
morning. The night was enveloped in
almost Egyptian darkness. There was
nothing with which to produce a light or kindle a fire. Of course I could not sleep. I could only watch, wait, and pray for the
dawn. But oh, how those dreary hours
drew their tedious length along. When
daylight came, some of the male part of the company prepared the body for
burial. And oh, such a burial and
funeral service. They did not remove his
clothing – but he had but little. They
wrapped him in a blanket and placed him in a pile with thirteen others who had
died, and then covered him up in the snow.
The ground was frozen so hard that they could not dig a grave. He was left there to sleep in peace until the
trump of the Lord shall sound, and the dead in Christ shall awake and come
forth in the morning of the first resurrection.
We shall then again unite our hearts and lives, and eternity will furnish
us with life forever more.
I will not attempt to describe
my feelings at finding myself thus left a widow with three children, under such
excruciating circumstances. I cannot do
it. But I believe the Recording Angel
has inscribed in the archives above, and that my sufferings for the Gospel’s
sake will be sanctified unto me for my good.
My sister Mary was the only relative I had to whom I could look for
assistance in this trying ordeal, and she was sick. So severe was her affliction that she became
deranged in her mind, and for several days she ate nothing but hard frozen
snow. I could therefore appeal to the
Lord alone; He who had promised to be a husband to the widow, and a father to
the fatherless. I appealed to him and he
came to my aid.
A few days after the death of my
husband, the male members of the company had become reduced in number by death;
and those who remained were so weak and emaciate by sickness, that on reaching
the camping place at night, there were not sufficient men with strength enough
to raise the poles and pitch the tents.
The result was that we camped out with nothing but the vault of Heaven
for a roof, and the stars for companions.
The snow lay several inches deep upon the ground. The night was bitterly cold. I sat down on a rock with one child in my lap
and one on each side of me. In that
condition I remained until morning. My
sick sister, the first part of the night, climbed up hill to the place where
some men had built a fire. She remained
there until the people made down their beds and retired, to sleep, if they
could. She then climbed or slid down the
hill on the snow, to where there was another fire which was kept alive by some
persons who were watching the body of a man who had died that night. There she remained until daylight.
It will be readily perceived
that under such adverse circumstances I had become despondent. I was six or seven thousand miles from my
native land, in a wild, rocky, mountain country, in a destitute condition, the
ground covered with snow, the waters covered with ice, and I with three
fatherless children with scarcely nothing to protect them from the merciless
storms. When I retired to bed that
night, being the 27th of Oct., I had a stunning revelation. In my dream, my husband stood by me and said
– “Cheer up, Elizabeth, deliverance is at hand.” The dream was fulfilled.
“The 28th of
October,” says John Jaques in his history of this journey, “Was a red letter
day to this hand cart expedition. On
that memorable day, Joseph A. Young, Daniel Jones, and Abel Garr galloped
unexpectedly into camp amid tears and cheers and smiles and laughter of the
emigrants. Those three men being the
express from the most advanced relief company from Salt Lake, brought the glad
word that assistance, provisions and clothing were near, that ten wagons were
waiting at the Devil’s Gate.” Thus you
see, my dream and my husband’s prediction were fulfilled.
The next day we left the Platte
and started for the Sweetwater country.
On the 31st of Oct. another grand surprise met us. On reaching Greecewood Creek, we met Geo. D.
Grand, R. F. Burton, Charles Decker, Chauncey G. Webb, and some others, with
six wagons of flour, etc., sent from Salt Lake.
On the 1st of Nov. we arrived at the Sweetwater bridge, some
five miles from Devil’s Gate. We arrived
there about dusk in the evening. We
camped in about a foot and a half of snow.
It was a busy evening before bed time in clearing away the snow. For this purpose many used cooking utensils,
plates and other things. The ground was
hard and almost impenetrable; and it was with the greatest difficulty that the
tents could be erected. It became a
question that night, whether we should camp there for the winter or go forward
to Salt Lake Valley. It was decided to
go on. At Devil’s Gate the freight was
left, as the teams were to weak to haul it.
It was left in charge of Daniel W. Jones, Thomas M. Alexander and Ben
Hampton, with seventeen emigrants to guard it through the winter.
It was several days after that –
I do not remember the exact date – that we made the last crossing of the
Sweetwater. In speaking of that
memorable event, Elder John Jaques says: – “It was a severe operation to many
of the company. It was the last ford the
company waded over. The water was not
less than two feet deep, perhaps a little more in the deepest parts, but it was
intensely cold. The ice was three or
four inches thick and the bottom of the river muddy and sandy. The stream seemed to be about forty yards
wide. Before the crossing was completed,
the shades of evening were closing around, and this, as everyone knows, is the
coldest hour of the twenty-four, especially at a frosty time. When the hand carts arrived at the bank of
the river one poor fellow who was greatly worn down with travel exclaimed: ‘Have we got to cross here?’ Being answered ‘yes’ he again exclaimed: ‘Oh dear, I can’t go through that!’ His heart sank within him and he burst into
tears. But his heroic wife came to his
aid, and in a sympathetic tone said:
‘Don’t cry, Jimmie, I’ll pull the hand cart for you.’ In crossing the river the shins and limbs of
the waders came in contact with sharp cakes of ice which inflict wounds on them
which did not heal until long after they arrived in this valley. And some of them are alive, some of them bear
the marks of them to this day.”
After this crossing we camped
for several days in a deep gulch called “Martin’s Ravine.” It was a fearful time and place. It was so cold that some of the company came
near freezing to death. The sufferings
of the people were fearful, and nothing but the power of a merciful God kept
them from perishing. The storms
continued unabated for some days. Said
E. K. Hanks in a speaking of it: – “The storms during the three days were
simply awful. In all my travels in the
Rocky Mountains, just before and afterwards, I have seen nothing like it –
nothing worse.” When the snow at length
ceased falling, it lay thick on the ground, and so deep that for many days it
was impossible to move the wagons through.
I and my children with hundreds of others were locked up in those
fearful weather-bound mountains.
Elder Hanks gives the following
graphic pen pictures of his first meeting with Martin’s company which he with
others had been sent to relieve, and which some of them had given up for lost,
believing that they had perished in the storms.
“I think” he said, “the sun was about an hour high when I spied
something in the distance that looked like a black streak in the snow. As I got near to it, I perceived it moved,
then I was satisfied that this was the long-looked for hand cart company led by
Captain Martin. I reached the ill-fated
train just as they had camped for the night.
The sight that met my gaze as I entered their camp can never be erased
from my memory! The starved forms and
haggard countenances of the poor sufferers, as they moved about slowly,
shivering with the cold to prepare the evening meal, was enough to touch the
stoutest heart. When they saw me coming
they hailed me with joy inexpressible.”
Children, I was there, Martha
Ann was there, Mary Elizabeth was there, they, my daughters, and Aaron, my son.
Elder Hanks had some buffalo
meat which he distributed among us. We
eagerly devoured it.
I will not continue this
narrative much longer, but will hasten to convey us to our destination. We came by easy stages the remainder of the
journey, and finally reached Salt Lake City at mid-day on Sunday, Nov. the 30th. Thus ended the ever memorable overland voyage
from the Missouri River to the Capital of Utah; in the eventful year of
1856. The company furnished me
transportation to the residence of my brother, Samuel Horrocks, in Ogden
City. Here my children and I rested and
recruited, and here we have remained ever since. And the Lord has blessed me, and rewarded me
with abundance of this world’s goods, for all my sufferings, and has also
blessed me with the highest blessings of a spiritual nature that can be
conferred upon man or woman, in His Holy Temple, in Mortality. I have a happy home for which I thank my
Father in Heaven.
On the sixth day of July, 1857,
I was married, for time, to William R. Kingsford. He was a widower. He stood proxy for my dead husband, and I
stood proxy for his dead wife. We have
since helped each other in the Temple of the Lord in Logan, in performing
ordinances for the dead. And on July 14th,
1891, we each received our second anointings; I also received second anointings
for his dead wife, and he for my dead husband.
President Marriner W. Merrill anointed, Samuel Roskelly was recorder.
Supplementary
Elizabeth Horrocks Jackson
Kingsford was an active business woman in Ogden, Utah. Her undertakings were successful and
pleasant. She united with all her
dealings that kindly tact which makes for success.
In the Relief Society, she was a
long and diligent worker, helping the poor and needy whenever a good cause was
shown. One of the mainsprings of her
character was the charitable interest she took in all people. This interest was the outgrowth of her nature
and of the principles of the faith which she grew to love. Her various relations with the Church and its
organizations were all that could be expected of a person who had home and
business to attend.
For two years and a half, prior
to her death, she was a sufferer of nervous prostration. This trouble she bore patiently, ever
learning the lesson of higher thought and higher life.
She passed away October 17,
1908, and was buried from the Fourth Ward Meeting House October 20. The speakers of the service strongly approved
the life that had been led so earnestly and faithfully. At these services was also read the record of
the life which is related above.
-----------
The
above transcription was entered into the computer by David Scott Vickers and
Donald Lee Vickers on 25 December 1997.
The source was a typeset publication obtained by DLV from his uncle,
Spencer Jackson Klomp, in the 1950s or 1960s.
The source consisted of five 8 ½ x 14-inch sheets between two pink
sheets of cover stock with a 4 ½ x 6-inch photo of Elizabeth Horrocks Jackson
Kingsford on the first inside sheet. An
attempt was made in this transcription to be reasonably close to the original
publication. In addition to several
minor corrections to punctuation, the following changes were made:
Paragraph 3: “mothers” to “mother’s”
Paragraph 7: “travelled” to “traveled” (consistent with
the spelling in paragraph 8)
Paragraph 17: “Was red letter day” to “Was a red letter
day”
Paragraph 20: “Hank” to “Hanks” (consistent with paragraphs
21 and 23)
Paragraph 23: “had killed some buffalo meat” to “had some
buffalo meat”
