This diary is both an excuse to share the story of one of my ancestors, and (hopefully) an encouraging lesson in family history research. :-)
I've known a lot about parts of my family tree for a long, long time: my tree includes some branches that have been Mormon for 180 years, and as everyone reading this knows, these folks are serious genealogists.
But genealogy really gets fun when you find the stories that fill in the blanks beyond dates and parentage, that make our forebears flesh and blood. This is an account of one such story, that of my great-great grandfather, James Gardner.
James Alexander Gardner came from Glasgow to America with his widowed mother and four siblings in the mid-19th century. He was about 18 years old. Here is an extract from his account of that journey, written 50 years later for the anniversary of his arrival in Utah:
I left Scotland the 17th of March, 1856, with two or three hundred from the same land.
With about 800 emigrants I sailed on the good ship Enoch Train. After rolling in the billows of the mighty deep for about 40 days we landed in the port of Boston about the 1st of May.
They went by train from Boston to New York, and from there to what was then the western terminus of the railroad at the Mississippi River.
Making our way as speedily as possible, we arrived at Iowa City, then the Mormon outfitting camp. There for the first time we saw some of the carts that were to carry our baggage and little children a distance of 1,300 miles.
. . .
The carts were of very frail construction. Instead of having rubber tires, we bound the wheels with rawhide. All being ready we broke camp at Iowa [City] the 9th of June. The season being a wet one, and the many rivers we had to cross, stretched the raw hide tires so we had to substitute strong hoop iron to tire our wheels.
After about three weeks' march we crossed the Missouri river and pitched our tents at the old Winter Quarters camp ground [near what is now Omaha]. Our 300 miles travel had proven that our company was too large. It was then divided in two companies. Capt. Edmund Ellsworth taking the English part and Daniel D. McArthur taking the Scotch and a few from other lands.
After being fully organized with a captain over each 10, our baggage reduced to 17 pounds per head, we were ready to cross the wide plains. Capt. Ellsworth desired the honor of leading the first handcart company to Salt Lake, which was granted him. His company pulled out from us about the middle of July. McArthur's company remained in camp three days longer when we started out.
There were about 400 men, women and children, 90 handcarts and two ox teams which carried our flour and tents.
Capt. Dan. As we called him, purchased a little yellow mule, which was made to do good service in carrying the old ladies across the rivers. Our day's travel varied from 15 to 20 miles per day. One day we covered 30 miles in order to camp with the pioneer company as it was called. We rested the next day to let our friends get out of our way again. This was repeated three times.
On the 26th of September, McArthur's company camped near the summit of the little mountain. Capt. Ellsworth's company was camped two miles and a half near Salt Lake. Quite a number of teams and friends camped with us there. The next morning most of the women and children were taken by friends. The male portion were left to pull the carts. Before [long] the mouth of Emigration canyon was reached. McArthur's company had closed up with the pioneers. When we entered the bench out of the canyon all eyes were set on Salt Lake City.
- Gardner, James, [Reminiscences], in "Utah Heroes Who Pulled Their All Across the Plains," Deseret Evening News, 1 Sept. 1906, 20.
The basic outlines of this story have long been known, both within my family and to students of Utah (and American) history; the arrival of the first two handcart companies that September day was a major episode in the Mormon migration and colonization of the intermountain west. But I just recently discovered — thanks to the internet — this account by my own ancestor. You can probably imagine how much more real the story has become for me.
Other diaries and newspaper stories tell of how the new arrivals were met at the mouth of the canyon by a large group of citizens who gave them melons and such to eat, and accompanied them the last short leg into Salt Lake City, where there was a parade and more feasting. (It was such a big deal to them because it proved the success of the newly instituted change from ox team-drawn covered wagons to handcarts by the Perpetual Emigration Fund, a system devised to help poor immigrants make their way to Utah).
The Gardners weren't in Salt Lake very long; within a few months James had struck out for Utah Valley, some fifty miles to the south. He was among the first ten families to settle at the south end of Utah Lake in the spring of 1857. The town they founded was eventually called Goshen. (I don't know if James's family accompanied him, or if they joined him there later, where future censuses show them living.)
And here is something I found just today, a story about James Gardner's heroism that I think is very, very cool:
As the summer [of 1857] advanced, the flour supply of the colonists began to dwindle. Something must be done to get more. Manti, some sixty-five miles to the south (and east) of Goshen, was the nearest point from which flour could be obtained. The road between here and Manti was at that time infested with Indians. It would be a dangerous undertaking for anyone to reach the mill and return in safety with the load required. Bishop Phineas Cook called for volunteers. Several men volunteered. Among these was James Gardner, who said he would go but that he wanted to go alone since he felt that he could do the job without assistance. Finally, Bishop Cook consented, so Gardner made ready his team, wagon and provisions and set off to purchase the flour and bring it home. All the people came out of the fort to watch him depart. Some with misgivings that he would never make it there and back, and some wondering what would happen to them if he failed.
There were numerous stories afloat in the community telling how men had been robbed and scalped on just such expeditions as this. As time went on and James Gardner did not return, the nerves of the people became very tense. Some of the more pessimistic of the group said they had known all along that he would never make it, while others, who perhaps knew Gardner better, felt sure that he would accomplish his mission.
One day while the hungry people at the fort were still in this state of anxiety, a cloud of dust appeared on the road at the south end of the valley. Before long the lookout could make out a lone outfit slowly making its way towards the community. The news soon spread. Before long some men mounted horses and rode out to see who it was. Yes, sure enough, it was James Gardner! He had successfully made the round trip and brought back the much needed flour. All of the people rejoiced.
- from Goshen Valley History by Raymond Duane Steele
Mr. Steele's book is out of print; I only discovered this passage by googling the name of Goshen's founder, Phineas W. Cook, where I found it reproduced in a biography of Mr. Cook.
I realize that, when it comes to my Mormon ancestors, I have an easier time of it than many folks; but the lessons here are applicable to most anyone: Google can be your friend — and don't limit your research only to names in your family tree. Cast the net a bit wider. (I once found a great thumbnail biography of another [non-Mormon] ancestor quite by accident in an 1880s history of Ohio.)
So, keep your eyes open, and your mind free to range beyond the confines of your own names and dates. You may be surprised at what you'll find.
Oh yeah, about the diary's title: Goshen, Utah was known at one point as Sodom — not because of any connection with the wicked Old Testament city, but because the early settlers lived in sod huts. Apparently the phrase "Sod 'em up" was a commonly used expression when building homes, and it came to be applied to the inhabitants.
Sorry if I failed to titillate the prurient. :-)