SARAH PRICILLA LEAVITT HAMBLIN

A Pioneer Midwife

By Myrl Tenny Arrott

(Donated by Sharon Black via email, April, 2000)

Preface____________________________________________________________
What a man or woman is and what they become is in part due to their heritage. The men and women who followed their Mormon leaders west did not emerge suddenly from limbo. Ancestors and families had much influence on the kind of people they had become. Yet, even as the domestic cattle of Europe evolved into the wild, longhorn cattle of Texas, so the Mormon pioneers had developed into a distinctive type of people. Physically and psychologically, the pioneers' need for change had begun in the "old countries" resulting in their decision to migrate. As in the case of the Pilgrims, and other emigrants, who had migrated to the United States many years before, the Mormon pioneer had come for religious and other personal reasons. They had come to the "New World" for freedom and a new way of life. Whether the migration was forced or voluntary, the people who survived were characterized by more physical strength and a capacity to endure great hardships; and not uncommonly, they were of a rebellious nature. History is not only made up of kings, rulers, wars or generals, it is the story of people-of their love, honor, faith, hopes and sorrows. In writing about the Mormon pioneers and researching into their histories and journals, I find that knowing their heritage and origin helps me to understand how these dauntless men and women so valiantly stood the test. Forward__________________________________________________________
The Leavitt family comes from a long line of note in England. Their family coat of arms represents a rampaging lion, and the motto means "The quick or the active", denoting physical superiority. They were descendants of Dorothy Dudley, who was a daughter of Samuel Dudley, of Massachusetts Bay Colony. Four of the family had been governors there: Samuel's father Thomas Dudley, his father-in-law John Winthrop, his brother-in-law Simon Bradstreet and his brother John Dudley. Thomas Dudley, along with Mr. John Winthrop and others, set sail on Easter Monday, 1629. aboard the Arabella from Cowres on the Isle of Wight, opposite Southampton. Through the Dudley line, it is possible to trace from Thomas Dudley through the Purefoys and back through the maze of English royalty and near-royalty to Alfred the Great of England, who ruled from 871 to 901. Pricilla's mother, Sarah Sturdevant,also comes from a good family, back through John Thompson and Francis Cooke of the Mayflower.

THE LEAVITT FAMILY--CONVERSION TO MORMONISM
Jeremiah Leavitt, Priscilla's father, married Sarah Sturdevant, Priscilla's mother in Vermont. He moved his new bride to Hatley, Canada, just fifteen miles from the Vermont line. The soil was deep and fertile, and the timber was plentiful. Here they would establish their home and rear their family. The change was a sore test for the eighteen-year-old bride. Sarah had been brought up in a strict Puritan home where Bible reading and family prayers were an established daily ritual, and where the Sabbath Day was observed to the letter. Hatley, Canada was little more than a boisterous lumber camp. The swearing and the drinking, along with general disregard for things religious and refined, tried her bitterly. But she adjusted, and developed into a mature and resourceful woman, still devoutly religious. Always of a serious nature, she read the scriptures, meditated much and prayed often. Sarah bore ten children while in Hatley. Sarah had joined the Baptist Church because she believed in baptism by immersion. Through the paper which was published by her church, she read of a strange new sect which claimed that their prophet received revelation directly from God. The stories were much distorted, and so fantastic that they were comical. Yet, strangely, Sarah was interested in the idea of new revelation. During her prayers and meditations, she had been impressed she was to receive new light from some source. One afternoon, one of her husband's sisters called on her and asked her to go for a walk. When they were out in the field where they could not be overheard, she told Sarah she had been to listen to some Mormon elders preach. She found Sarah to be a sympathetic listener, so she went on to say how she believed this was really the true church of Christ restored again. Suddenly, it flashed through Sarah's mind that this was the new light she, herself, and been looking for. Returning home, Sarah told her husband of the incident and together they went to a Mormon meeting. They accepted all of the literature given to them and spent long evenings reading from it, comparing it with scriptures, and discussing it. Sarah's real conversion came when she read from the Doctrine and Covenants. In her journal, written after she had grown older, she said, "I know that no man nor set of men could make such a book; or would dare try, from any wisdom that man possessed. I knew that it was the word of God, and a revelation from heaven and received it as such. I sought with my whole heart a knowledge of the truth. That never has left me nor never will." The older children were all baptized when their parents were. Most of Jeremiah's family was also baptized.

GATHERING WITH THE SAINTS
The popularity of the new sect had grown in and around Hatley, and the new converts felt that they should gather with the body of the Church at Kirtland, Ohio. This was a tremendous undertaking for Jeremiah and Sarah. It meant taking their large family and moving to a new place. But they were determined to move with the rest of the saints. They left Hatley, Canada on July 20, 1835 in a company of twenty-three souls, including Jeremiah's mother, Sarah Shannon Leavitt, and her children and grandchildren. Her oldest son-in-law, Frank Chamberlain, was in charge of the group. In Jeremiah's wagon, besides the parents, were eight children: Louisa, Lydia, Jeremiah Jr., Weir, Lemuel, Dudley, Mary and Thomas. The company traveled in order, resting on the Sabbath and whenever it was necessary to wash clothes, repair wagons, rest the team or get supplies. It was a good experience for the children to cook over the campfire and sleep under the stars. Thus, the training of the young men of the Leavitt family as frontiersmen, began early. They learned to read the signs of nature, and gained skill in tracking with keen observation. Also, these young men learned resourcefulness and the ability to meet emergencies. They arrived in Kirtland early in September, 1835. They would always remember their first meeting with the Prophet Joseph Smith. Here was a man who talked with God and angels, so he seemed more than human. The family was to have closer association with the Prophet in the days to come. When they arrived in Kirtland, the family's money was gone and they could go no further. They went ten miles on to the village of Mayfield where there was a mill and some chair factories. Here Jeremiah and his older sons found work. Since most of the townspeople were bitter against the Mormons, the Leavitts tended strictly to their own business. Often some of the younger boys came home with bloody noses from defending the Mormon religion. The Leavitts were trustworthy and honest; so in spite of the hatred toward the Mormons in general, the Leavitts left town with the good feelings of the people. The day they left the merchants of the town canceled part of their bills and gave them a few luxuries, such as a card of buttons for the baby's coat and a paper of tea. Through their influence, a few people of the town later joined the Mormon Church. The second journey was to take them another five-hundred miles west, to Twelve Mile Grove near Nauvoo, Illinois. It was a long, tiresome journey. Near Lake Michigan, they had to stop again while the father, Jeremiah, earned some money so they could go on. Here, Jeremiah found the three orphaned children of his brother, Nathaniel. The mother had died some years before and Nathaniel had married again. Then Nathaniel died and his wife left the children in the care of some neighbors and went back to Canada. Their children's names were Nathaniel, Flavilla and John; the oldest was only twelve years of age. The roads were bad all the way to Twelve Mile Grove. In one place, there was a five-mile bridge over a swamp, made only of poles without a dirt covering. Traveling over this crude bridge almost jolted them to pieces. They arrived at Twelve Mile Grove to find the other part of the family sick and discouraged. Jeremiah's mother, Sarah Shannon Leavitt, had died from the hardships, cold and exposure. Many of the company were ill; all were in low spirits. They all had bought good farms, but many of them had malaria fever. Those who did not have the chills and fever were still not in good health. Some of them had begun to doubt the truth of this new church that had cost them so much. Jeremiah and Sarah brought new hope and new zeal to the group. The parents knew they must find work at once. With so many children to care for and feed, it took all of them doing their best at whatever jobs they could find. Fourteen miles away the great canal at Juliett was being built. Jeremiah could get work at $3.00 a day with his team. By taking in washings from the workmen, Sarah could have the girls help her; and the older boys would help Jermiah. The others would take odd jobs here and there. So they went to Juliett and did very well. They stayed there until Spring, then returned to Twelve Mile Grove to join their family and other saints. Jeremiah decided to take up a piece of virgin land on the prairie. With the help of his older sons, they soon had a house on it and the family moved out to the new place. They had five good milk cows for milk, butter and cheese, and were able to raise good crops. Everything went well until Sarah, the mother, took sick with malaria fever. The malaria kept Sarah dangerously ill for a month; first burning with fever, then shaking with chills. By now, they had one milk cow left; the other cows had been sold to keep them in supplies until they could raise a crop. Then the last milk cow became sick and died. Jeremiah split rails and sold them to buy another cow; they had to have milk. As soon as Sarah was well enough, Jeremiah decided to move on with the other saints to Nauvoo. Most of their friends and family were going, and they wanted to be with the body of the Church. They started in November, and upon arriving in Nauvoo, bought a place three miles from the city. They ploughed and sowed the land with wheat. Before it was ready to harvest, they found something wrong with the title or deed to the land because of a problem with the survey, and they lost the property. They then bought another farm out by the "Big Indian Mounds" just seven miles east of Nauvoo. Their eleventh child, Betsy, was born May 12, 1839, in Nauvoo (Twelve Mile Creek). This was in 1841; for six years they had been moving from one place to another, whenever they could find work. They were now close enough to town so they could go to their meetings and conferences. This way, they could keep in touch with their people. The undeveloped land was in a fine location. On the big mound, they planned to build their new home. With such a group of strapping young men to help him, Jeremiah felt they could put the land in shape and be ready to cultivate in a short period of time. They did well in their new location, in spite of some reverses. One season, the boys all came down with the "black canker"; each had his turn. It seemed that death hung over the household. But with careful nursing, and the power of the Priesthood used with great faith, they were all made well. At another time, nine-year-old Mary had a falon on her finger, which caused her great pain and suffering. Again, the Lord blessed them and Mary was healed. Then, "On a beautiful spring morning, 8 May, 1841, happiness and joy visited this neat little home of the Leavitts. A sweet little baby girl was born as the twelfth and last child of Sarah and Jeremiah Leavitt. She was given the name of Sarah Priscilla Leavitt."
(The foregoing information was taken from Sarah Leavitt's journal that she has so faithfully kept all of her pioneer life. In Alpine, Arizona, during the years 1925-27, I read this journal to my grandmother Sarah Priscilla Leavitt Hamblin; and the following story is written in my grandmother's words as she remembered how she as a child and young lady lived and experienced these events. By Myrl Tenny Arrott)

MEMORIES OF A PROPHET
"Among my first recollections and faintest memories was the fear and sorrow in our home concerning the mob violence and the persecution of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum. They had been driven for months, jailed, tarred and feathered, and harassed constantly. I remember clearly of going with my parents and family to the docks on the Mississippi River to meet a boat on which the Prophet Joseph Smith and brother Hyrum were coming into Nauvoo, Illinois. It was after one of their many trips for the Church, or to answer to one of the many trumped up charges the enemy had brought against them. A lot of saints had gathered with their children at the docks to meet these brethren as they came in. They wanted to get a glimpse of these "Holy Men of God." Oh, how these saints loved them! As this stalwart, humble man came up the pathway toward us, we children all crowded as close to the path as we could get. A thrill I will never forget came over me as he took my hand, patted me on the head, and said, "May the Lord bless you child." He was not in a hurry, but took, his time greeting all of the children as he passed along the path to his waiting carriage. He also shook hands with my parents and many of the saints as he went by. I can remember how my parents and others said they knew he was a prophet of God. By the good, peaceful feeling it gave us just to be near him and hear his voice, we all knew he was a prophet. "This testimony has stayed with me through life; and it helped sustain all of the family when we were faced with the mobbings, persecutions, burnings and suffering that followed holy men of God. It was hard for a child to understand why these wicked men would torture and persecute these holy men of God (Mother explained to me that they were 'wicked men and Satan's demons of the worst kind'). From our mound at the farm, we could see the burning buildings at night. It seemed that the violence and mobbing became worse after the Prophet Joseph and brother Hyrum had returned from the last trip. The mob hadn't gotten far enough out to bother us yet. We hoped they would 'leave us alone,' as others put it. But one day, they did threaten us. A group of dirty, rough-looking men came riding up to our gate, dismounting with a clatter. As they started through the gate, my older brother Weir, a young giant of twenty-two, walked calmly out of the house to meet them. 'Come on in fellows,' he said in a friendly voice. 'Let's have a drink!'. This sort of greeting surprised the roughnecks; they hadn't expected this kind of reception. They followed him around to the wine cellar where Weir poured a pitcher of wine and passed it to them to drink. Then picking up the barrel, he drank out of the bunghole. They watch him with amazement. They noticed how his muscles bulged under his shirt; they saw the fearless coolness of his eyes as he looked at them. Perhaps they noticed, too, the tense watchful attitude of the younger brothers, Lem, Thomas and Dudley. They were only boys, but boys with fight in them. The mobbers got on their horses and rode away. The family was never molested again. This was not much comfort when we could see things that were going on around us and hear of the whippings, tar and featherings, and other stories of cruelty told us by our neighbors. We stayed close to the farm, only going to town on Sundays to go to church or to conference. "We heard in the spring of 1844 that the Prophet Joseph and Brother Hyrum and other brethren had been sent to prison. But they had been sent to prison before, and God had always protected them; He had helped them to escape their persecutors! When the word came that Joseph and Hyrum Smith had been 'killed in jail', my family was thunderstruck. They hurried to the city and could see crowds of grief-stricken people milling or passing on the streets; or gathered in groups, talking in hushed whispers. Most were just standing with heads bowed. With their beloved Prophet and leader gone, what could they, or would they do? The next day, the bodies of Joseph and Hyrum Smith lay in state at the Mansion House. Their bodies were guarded by a large group of priesthood members. My father and older brothers were among the guard. My older sister and younger brothers stayed with us smaller girls. Mother went to be with the Relief Society sisters and to view the sad sight. These were very trying times for all. This sad, dark time for the saints of the Church seemed to strengthen the testimonies of my family and all the faithful members. Though they were all downcast and sad, they seemed to comfort each other as they prayed to the Lord together for strength, and for His help and comfort. The family gathered to my older sister's home. Lydia was married to William Snow, and a mutual feeling of kinship was felt at the Snow home. The children and women sat in a dark room, while the men and older boys stood guard. 'Arm and be ready' a rider shouted. 'The mob is out to destroy every Mormon,' one of the women began to cry, begging her husband not to go. 'If I had forty husbands and as many sons, I would urge them all to go,' mother Sarah told the woman. 'If I could, I would go myself.'

LEAVING ILLINOIS--A HAVEN NO MORE
"With Joseph and Hyrum dead, the mob was quiet for a few months. The saints worked and lived in peace for a short time, but they needed a leader in order to get organized and move forward. I remember going with my family to a meeting called by Brother Brigham Young. As he rose to speak, he seemed to have the voice and physical appearance of our beloved Prophet Joseph Smith. The spirit of this great and solemn occasion was poured out on the saints. My family, with all the others, then knew that Brother Brigham was the one to be chosen as our leader. A spirit of peace and comfort was felt and it gave the saints a sense of security and strength to carry on. They united as a body to face the great task ahead of them. When the mob saw that the saints were reunited and determined to carry on with the new leaders, they again started their fiendish tortures and persecutions. The beautiful temple was burned, along with some homes, and destruction was loosed again. My mother and father broke down and wept when they heard the temple was destroyed. My father and older brother had labored day after day, with only parched corn and sometimes jerky to sustain them as they helped build this beautiful edifice to the Lord. Next to the murder of their Prophet, it was one of the hardest trials they had to endure. "Marauding bands scoured the countryside at night, as well as day. The Leavitt family at the Mounds had to stay armed to guard at all hours in order to protect our farm and crops from being burned. We also had to protect our very lives. For me, a child of four or five, these events left a lasting impression on my memory that affected me throughout my life. Two roads ran by our farm; one was from Warsaw and one from Carthage. Since both roads had to be watched, my mother and my younger brothers took turns at the guard post day and night. It soon became evident that the Mormons would have to leave the state of Illinois or denounce their religion, which they would not do. They knew Mormonism was true. They then chose to move out of the state. Father had about forty thousand brick, and almost enough good rock quarried out, to build a new home upon the Mound. Father and the boys traded these for an old bed quilt. For the beautiful farm they received a yoke of wild steers. They had some weaving done in exchange for two high-poster beds. They had to abandon a nice little cherry stand to the mob. "The Leavitt family was on the road again to find a new home, where they could live and work in peace and where they could live their religion. Their forefathers had fought and died to help found this nation for religious freedom. Had it all been in vain? It was February and wintertime when my family pulled up on the banks of the mighty Mississippi River. There were gathered several hundred wagons and families on that bitter cold day. The river would have to be crossed on the ice. The Leavitt family found an old schoolhouse to stay in for shelter. Mother woke my father, Jeremiah, in the night to tell him she had a dream and a premonition to get out of Illinois or they would all be killed. The next morning they loaded what scanty supplies they had, stretched the cover on the wagon, and pulled out on the ice to cross over to the Iowa side of the river. We were not prepared for any kind of a journey. We camped on the west side of the Mississippi river in order to help others and get our stock across. The Leavitts camped there with a number of other wagons, and all formed a circle with a huge fire built in the center. It snowed and was terribly cold, and several deaths occurred from the exposure. Many old people and newborn babies lost their lives.

MOVING WESTWAR
"Because my family gave one of our teams and wagons to the Church to help move church property, it was more difficult moving this time. It was April, 1846, before we reached Mt. Pisgah, one-hundred and fifty miles west of Nauvoo. This was to be one of the permanent camps, so my father and three brothers, Weir, Lemuel and Dudley, went back to Bonaparte, located between Nauvoo and Mt. Pisgah, to earn flour and other provisions to sustain the family until the crops could be harvested. My mother and we four children remained at Mt. Pisgah. Weir was married while there in Bonaparte. This was a difficult time for the family. My mother took sick with chills and fever, and then all the children became ill; but through faith and prayer, we were all healed and our lives spared. About three hundred of the saints died there. My father also became ill back in Bonaparte. My brother, Weir and his wife cared for him; but Father died. He had known when he left us that we would never see him again in this life. At the side of his deathbed, they had sung his favorite hymn, 'Come Let Us Anew'. When they reached the verse that says, 'I have fought my way through, I have finished the work thou didst give me to do', he joined in; and his last words were, 'Well and faithfully done, enter into thy joy and sit down on thy throne'. His voice stopped then and, with Weir and Lemuel holding him, he died on those last sad notes. Of course, they had to bury Father there at Bonaparte. "Then Weir and his wife, and Lemuel and Dudley came on to Mt. Pisgah to help the family get ready to move to the great Salt Lake Valley. We would never be all together again. My father died in August, 1846; my sister, Lydia Snow,also died in 1846; and Weir died in the summer of 1847, making three in the family who had passed away within one year. In 1846, the boys moved us on to Council Bluffs, Iowa, where Weir and Lemuel had already planted some crops. We arrived there in November; and since they had no house built for us, we had to camp out. Mother took the chills and fever again. The boys fixed up a shelter of hay until they could build a house, which they built at a trading post on the Missouri River. "The steamboats landed here, leaving empty hogsheads or barrels to be taken to the maple groves. There they would be refilled with maple sugar or syrup. Sometimes large chunks of maple sugar would stick to the sides of the barrel. We girls would chip this sugar off into a bucket, and take it home for our own use. We would gather many wild greens and asparagus, and we had plenty of fish. In the tall grasses were wild strawberries, service berries, blackberries and wild currants. The following summer, these wild foods were all plentiful and we gathered them. As soon as Mother was well, she took in boarders, did fine sewing, and made butter, bread and pies to sell to the emigrants and travelers that passed by daily. My brother, Dudley, found work at a trading post owned by a man named Peter Maughn. Peter liked Dudley because he was a big, strong lad who knew how to work. He was very proud of Dudley's strength. It was through Peter Maughn that the Leavitt family got enough money to outfit us for the trip to Zion. "One day, Dudley was walking along the road where hundreds of emigrant wagons passed on their westward trek. Looking down, he saw a large black purse at the side of the road. He picked it up and found one-hundred and fifty dollars in it. Hurriedly, he ran to the trading post and asked Peter if he should start looking for or inquiring about the owner. Peter told him to say nothing about it, because the owner was probably miles down the road; and someone who was not the rightful owner might try to claim it. He told Dudley to keep the purse; and if anyone did inquire about it, he would know that was the owner. After a week had passed without a claim, Peter told Dudley that it was possible this was the Lord's way in helping Sarah Leavitt get her family to Zion. Peter took the money, saying to Dudley, 'See how hard your mother works, and all of your family; it takes most of it just to keep you fed and clothed'. With the money, Peter bought the family a good wagon, or prairie schooner, two yoke of strong oxen, four cows, and a good supply of flour, meal and other provisions. They were now ready to start for Zion. "This year, 1850, was the peak year for the 'gold rush' to California. The total emigration for the year was estimated at fifty thousand persons. Five thousand of these were Mormon emigrants on the road to Utah. Joining Captain Milo Andrus' company, we left to cross the Missouri River on June 3, 1850. Our company consisted of 51 wagons, 206 persons, 9 horses, 6 mules, 184 oxen, 122 cows, 46 sheep, 6 yearlings, 19 dogs, 2 pigs and 2 ducks. Just before we left the Missouri River, Apostle Orson Hyde called us all together and spoke to us. He told us that if we would be faithful and live our religion, we would be blessed with health and our lives would be spared. He especially admonished us not to take the Lord's name in vain, but to reverence it. He said, 'Keep God's name sacred and your lives and your property will be preserved.' Many of the company did not want to follow their leaders. They wanted to hurry ahead, instead of staying in line and waiting for the slower wagons. Hearing of this, Captain Andrus told those who were unwilling to stay together and help one another to go on ahead. But those that were obedient would camp for a few days to allow the disobedient ones to get far enough ahead to be on their own; then they would follow. He also said the obedient saints would reach Zion in peace and safety; however, he had no promise for those who would not heed counsel. After this talk, none wanted to go ahead. "For us children, this journey was a great adventure. Dudley and Mary cared for the teams and cattle, Mother did the cooking and was in charge of setting up camp. Thomas herded the cattle with the other drovers in the company, then took his turn driving the wagon. We had a milk cow hitched on to the back of the wagon and Thomas milked her night and morning. The milk was strained into a wooden churn, and when we stopped at night, we had a ball of yellow butter to be worked over, washed and salted. The butter would be churned with the jolt of the wagon as we traveled along. We would then divide the butter, and share it with less-fortunate people. (As we walked alongside our wagon) My sister, Betsy, and I had the chore of gathering sticks and roots, along with buffalo chips, for the evening fire. We had some grass-sack aprons that mother had made to tie around our waists; and when we found a dry twig, stick, or buffalo chip, we would put it into our apron sack. When the apron was filled, we would dump it into a large box in the back of the wagon. By night, we would have enough fuel for our night fire, to cook our evening meal, and for hot water to wash our dishes and our faces and hands. When the fuel box was filled, we would then play along the way, finding pretty rocks or playing jacks and other games. We also picked the pretty flowers that grew in the rocks and damper places. "One day, as Betsy and I were looking for pretty rocks and pebbles in the bottom of a large dry wash, we heard a roaring sound like thunder. Looking up, we saw a cloud of dust and knew it was a great herd of buffalo that had been stampeded by hunters or Indians. We looked around for some shelter and saw some overhanging rocks which formed a ledge above the wash. We hurried under it just as the first wild beast leaped down the bank. We huddled back against the rock and kept very quiet. Then as the last shaggy hump went over us, we realized how worried and frightened our mother would be. We surely would have been trampled to death if it hadn't been for that overhanging ledge. As the dust cleared away at last, we saw a horseman riding toward us at a long fast lope. We could see that the wagon train had formed a circle for safety; for a large herd of stampeding buffalo could wreck a wagon train if it were hit broadside. As we neared the wagon, my mother came running out after us, scolding and crying as she ran. The scout who had rescued us was also very upset. We were never again allowed to wander away from the wagons so far that our mother couldn't call us at all times. "One day, I was riding in the back of the wagon. I had my hair braided in two long braids; and because I was in the shade of the wagon cover, I pushed my sunbonnet back off my forehead. Then I saw four Indians with painted faces riding toward the back of our wagon. One of them, apparently a chief wearing his headdress of feathers, rode up very close to me and pointed to my long, blond braids. He then rode around to the front of the wagon to say something to my mother, and pointed at me again as he talked. The scout, seeing the Indians following our wagon, hurried up to see what they wanted. The chief made it known to the scout that he wanted to trade for me, because he liked my blue eyes and white hair. My mother became afraid and made me get up beside her on the wagonseat. Angrily, she shook her head at the chief; and the Indians, sensing her anger, turned and rode away. We thought we were through with them; but that night, we heard the wolves howling and other strange sounds. What the night guard thought was a big wolf raised up on his hind legs, apparently trying to peer into our wagon. The guard shot it and the next morning, they found a dead Indian wrapped in a wolf skin. The cover on the wagon had been tied down securely, and we knew nothing of the incident until morning. For several days, our mother was very careful to keep us back out of sight in the wagon. "My brother, Thomas, was a very good shot, and did his part in keeping the wagon train in fresh meat. The wild game and buffalo were fat and plentiful. Each week, we stopped on Friday night to clean up our clothes and to get ready for the Sabbath Day. At night we also danced and sang around the huge campfire. If we had meat that was going to spoil, we would dry it for jerky. Dipping the pre-cut strips of meat in hot, boiling salt water, we would then thread the meat on wire or hang it over a rope before an open fire to let it dry. Each night it was hung by the fire again until it was cured and dry, ready to be eaten. We also cured fish the same way, when we had good catches. The Indians called jerky, 'pemmican', which they would pound and put in their stews. We had our Sacrament meetings and our fast and testimony meetings on the Sabbath, we rested, sang hymns and prayed. We also had our prayers every night and morning in our own family. "One Monday morning, Thomas could not find one of our yoke of oxen. Mother became very upset because most of the other wagons were ready to go. She did not want to try to go on with just one yoke of steers. We had a heavy load, and she knew we had some steep grades to climb. Afraid that we could never make it with half the oxen, she gathered us children by the wagon wheel to pray. We bowed our heads as she prayed to our Father in Heaven to 'lead her to our oxen that she was so in need of'. She then sent Thomas in one direction, and she went down the creek we were camped on. There under a big clump of willows, she found the oxen, lying in the tall grass and weeds. She led them to the wagon, the boys yoked them up, and we were on our way. We passed many wagons who had been in too much of a hurry to stop and help us find our oxen. They were having problems and delays because of small breakdowns and tired teams. When we came to the steeper grades and harder climbs, we all knew then we never could have made it if we hadn't found our oxen. That night, humbly and earnestly, we thanked our Father in Heaven for His help and kind protective care that day. "The next morning, everyone was up with the dawn, eagerly pushing to get started. We would be in the "Valley of Zion" that evening. A great excitement filled the camp. We were soon on our way, and by noon had pulled around the last sharp curve and out into the opening. Captain Andrus and the other leaders took off their hats and bowed their heads in prayer. My sister, Betsy, and I climbed upon the wagon wheel. Taking off our bonnets and swinging them high in the air, we shouted and yelled loud and long: 'Hurrah for Zion! Hurrah for Zion!' A mist lay over the valley below but just before noon, on August 3, 1850, it seemed to lift and there was the great Salt Lake at last! Everyone seemed to feel they could not get enough of the scene. Peace and rest in safety at last-could it be real?

UTAH TERRITORY! LAND OF ZION!
"It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when we passed through Salt Lake City. It was a town of about five-thousand people at this time. Captain Andrus had two big banners painted and fastened to the cover on his wagon, with the words 'Hail to the Governor of Desseret', and 'Holiness to the Lord'. Then people began to come out of their homes to wave to us, and welcome us to Zion. This, indeed, seemed like Zion, a haven for weary-worn travelers. Just before sunset, led by Captain Andrus on his fine horse, all of the wagons pulled into the Union Square. Captain Andrus, wearing a clean kerchief and a large black hat, with his black coat brushed clean, sat on his horse more erect than usual. Even his horse seemed to sense this important occasion, for it curved its neck and pranced more than it had done for days along the road. When the last wagon was in place, Captain Andrus stepped off his horse; and, removing his hat, he held up his hand for attention. 'Brethren and Sisters, we are at the end of our long journey, at last. We have been greatly blessed; the hand of God has been over us. After we separate, it will be up to each of you to locate according to your desires and judgment, as well as the counsel of the authorities'. Then, raising his hand and bowing his head, he said, 'Let us be united in prayer and thanksgiving to God, who brought us here in safety'. Instantly, a hundred heads were uncovered as men, women and children bowed their heads in prayer and humble thanksgiving. As soon as the 'Amen' was said, the bustle began. People from town had gathered to meet relatives and friends, or to inquire about others still on the road. This was truly a homecoming for Mother, who was tired and worn out from the long trek she had just endured-the mobbing, and the death of our father and other loved ones. Now she could rest with her remaining family in peace, to work and worship in Zion.

GETTING STARTED
"We stayed at Duel Settlement that year. Then the next spring, my family took up land at Tooele, Utah. They built a log house, with homemade furniture, near the fort for protection. They prospered, and found peace and happiness, until the Indians began raiding and stealing their cattle. Betsy, Dudley, Thomas and I were the only children at home now. Mary had married William Hamblin, and Lemuel had married Melvina Thompson. "Jacob Hamblin and his family had also been sent to Tooele to settle there. I became well-acquainted with Sister Rachael, Jacob's wife. Jacob had been called to help stop the Indian raids, and to try to make peace between the Indians and the whites. He was called away from home frequently, and Sister Rachel had to care for a house full of children herself. I would go over to help her at times when she needed it. She was not at all well, almost an invalid, and she had to stay in bed a lot. Mother had delivered her baby, and I took care of the other children, so we became very close. Also, Dudley, my brother, was called by Jacob Hamblin to help in the Indian troubles. "The years we spent in Tooele were some of the happiest days I can remember. We had square dances, molasses candy pulls, and many kinds of games and contests. We enjoyed the basket dances and contest parties; and had picnics, house-raising, and quiltings every few days. Everyone was so good to each other and there was very little gossip and contention. "Then in 1854, Jacob Hamblin was called by Brigham Young to establish an Indian mission at Santa Clara, in the southern part of Utah. This would be the furthermost mission from any settlement established up to that time. The Indians had to be taught the Gospel. The missionaries must try to promote friendship with them so that the two races may understand each other. Jacob's family had to remain at Tooele until a fort could be built. This new frontier must be a little more settled before women and children could be moved there. I spent a lot of time in the Hamblin home while Jacob was away. I grew to love Sister Rachel and her fine family. In 1855, after they had a fort established and some log homes built, Jacob Hamblin called Dudley Leavitt and his two wives, with several other families, to move to Santa Clara Mission. His brother, William, had by now married my sisters, Mary and Betsy. They were to also help settle southern Utah. I was the only one left at home to be with my mother. "Dudley thought it would be better if we all moved to southern Utah. He persuaded my mother to go along so that he could care for us. Jacob Hamblin moved his family to Santa Clara at first; then in the summer, he kept them at the 'Mountain Meadows', where he kept his sheep and cattle. They made butter and cheese for the winter there, and cared for the stock. Rachel had not been well and another baby was expected, so I was again called to help in the Hamblin home. She never regained her health and strength after this baby was born. One day, as Jacob sat on Rachel's bed talking to her, she told him to ask me to be his wife so that he would have someone to care for his children when she was gone. Calling me to them, Rachel put my hand in Jacob's-and Jacob asked me to become his wife. It was the law of the Church that the first wife must give her consent before a man could take another wife. I told them that I would have to talk to my mother first; but thanked them for their faith in me. The next morning, I talked to my mother and she said she thought the Jacob Hamblin family were very fine people; and that if, after we prayed about it, I felt that I wanted to take this important step, I had her blessing to do so. The next morning, I went back to the Hamblin home to help with the morning meal. After breakfast was finished, I found Jacob in Rachel's room. I told them both that I had asked my mother and my Heavenly Father; and had decided that I loved this family well enough to help them, and to give them my love and care. Since Brother Jacob had to be away from home so much on Church business and missionary work with the Indians, I felt very humble in accepting this great responsibility. TOGETHER IN SORROW "On his trip to Salt Lake City, Jacob took me along; and we were married in the Endowment House on September 11, 1857. Because it took about a week to go to Salt Lake City from Santa Clara, another couple accompanied us as chaperons. The trip home was not very eventful. Jacob seemed to be worried and depressed about something. The day we were to arrive at the Mountain Meadows, we saw in the distance someone coming on horseback, seemingly at great speed. It was Albert, Jacob's Indian boy, whom he had adopted many years before. Albert was now about seventeen years old, and it was his duty to care for the sheep and cattle at the Mountain Meadow ranch for Jacob. As he came riding up to the light spring wagon, he seemed very pale and nervous. He told Jacob to take his horse and go at once--that a terrible thing had happened at the Mountain Meadow ranch. Indians, led by some white men, had massacred most of the people of a wagon train that had camped at the Mountain Meadows, with Jacob's permission. All but a few children had been killed. Jacob then told me to lay down in the back of the covered wagon. 'Lie very still,' he said. 'Don'tÒ

LIFE GOES ON
"There was no time for grief or tears. There was work to do and loads to lift. I believe that work was the thing that saved us all--the eternal, never-ending work to keep us in food, clothing, and shelter. I had five babies born to me at Santa Clara; Sarah Olive, Melissa, Lucy, Jacob Vernon Jr., and Ella Ann. My children brought me a great deal of comfort and joy. My real life's happiness was wrapped up in them. No mother took more pride and joy in her family than I did. My third daughter, Lucy, was a very sweet child; but she seemed very weak and frail. When she was six-years-old, we took her to Salt Lake City to see the doctors there; and they found she had a tapeworm. They tried every known remedy to get rid of it, but to no avail. Often, after taking certain medication, she would pass yards of it; then it would grow back. Just after Christmas, December 28,1871, she died in Jacob's arms. This was a sad time, but we were relieved to see her rest from her pain. She had suffered for two years. "One morning, just before daylight, Jacob started for Cedar City with a load of grain. I had been in the orchard drying peaches. Upon returning to the house, I saw two buck Indians come riding into the yard. They inquired, 'Where is Jacob?' 'He has gone with grain to Cedar City,' I replied. With a grunt, they whirled their horses; and, in a great cloud of dust, dashed down the road. A queer, cold feeling came over me and I felt they were up to some mischief. I worried all day. That night, after we had gone to bed, I heard them gallop by. Somehow I felt relieved and was able to go to sleep. When he returned, Jacob told me that the Indians had overtaken him; and riding up to him, they said, 'We have come to kill you, Jacob.' He sat quietly for a second; then pulling his shirt back, he said, 'Well, go ahead and kill me, I have no gun to defend myself'. Looking surprised and very embarrassed, they said, 'You have our hearts, Jacob; we can't kill you'. And turning their horses around, they went back the way they had come. "One day, after Jacob had been gone for several months to the Indian villages across the river, the authorities became very worried about him. They called a special meeting to organize a party of men to look for him. With a prayer in my heart, I waited days for him to return; but my baby Ella was small and I was unable to go to the meeting. As I sat down to tend Ella, a light rap came at the door--and in walked my Jacob. My heart beat so hard it nearly stifled me; I was so happy to see him safely at home! He looked so tired. I wanted to comfort him with a hot bath, clean clothes, and a good warm meal; but he could not take time just then. He had just come by to let me know he was all right. He then went straight to the meeting to let the authorities know he was safe. Melissa, my second daughter, who had been at the meeting, came home so embarrassed that her father had come to the meeting so 'dirty and shabby'. She said, 'His clothes were really ragged and he needed a shave and a haircut. Just a clean shirt would have helped some!' Soon, her father came in and told her that some things were more important than a clean shirt, haircut, and shave. "One time, while Jacob was away, I was frightened by a band of painted Indians. One of the bucks rode his horse into the yard, up on the porch , and into the kitchen. I had the broom in my hand, sweeping the floor; and when he started to reach for some biscuits on the stove, I began beating his horse over the ahead with the broom. The frightened horse almost threw its rider as it backed out the door, with me and my broom right behind them. The Indian gave a loud grunt, saying, 'Hump! Jacob has heap brave squaw!' I am sure that if I had shown the least bit of fear, they would have all come in and taken the food in the house from me. Indians respect bravery, and detest cowards. When he got home, I told Jacob about the incident. He knew the Indians, and gave them a good talking to. They told Jacob that I was very brave, and that they would never molest me again. And they didn't. "In 1870, Jacob was called to help settle Kanab. With regrets, we left the big rock house in Santa Clara; this had been our first real home. This was where I had accepted my greatest responsibilities. Death, sickness, childbirth, fear and loneliness, and many other things had happened to us here. It seemed that we were finally realizing something from our hard labors. At last, we had our home, garden and orchard. But duty called, and gladly we answered. The journey to the big Hurricane hill was not very eventful. But when we started up the hill, I took the children out of the wagon to walk. We stopped to rest at a number of places, and finally reached the top. The wagon was waiting for us there. Just as we started to get in, our baby girl, Ella, started crying. She had left her little china doll back down the hill by a big rock. I tried to lift her into the wagon, but she only cried louder. I told her that we could not take the time to go back for the doll. The trip was so long; and I could not ask her father to wait while someone went back for it, even though it was a nice doll--it would probably take an hour to return for the doll, and an hour lost in those days of traveling was a great loss. Her father heard her smothered sobs and asked what was wrong with her. I told him; and to my surprise, he picked her up and dried her tears. He asked her if she knew what big rock she left it by. Then he went back down the hill to look for it. After a time, he came back into sight with his head down and his hands behind him, just as he always walked. 'Oh, oh! He doesn't have it!' Ella cried, and began to sob again. When he finally reached the wagon, he handed the doll up to her. 'Now you hang on to it tight, my little one. I can't go back for it again.' She held it clutched in her arms all the rest of the way to Kanab. "We built another home in Kanab, and began the new venture of raising silkworms. The worms were kept in the loft of the barn in big wooden bins. The children would gather mulberry leaves to put in the bins for the worms to eat. They made a loud, chomping noise as they chewed the leaves. The worms were white, about the size of your forefinger. They would spin the silk cocoon around themselves, after attaching themselves to a small twig or straw. The worms produced the fine silk threads from the mulberry leaves they ate. This was interesting work, but not too profitable. It was such a small operation, and we could not produce much silk in this crude fashion. Also, Jacob was away from home so much and did not have time to help us. Jacob brought Major Powell, the river explorer, to our home in Kanab. He came with Jacob on a couple of trips. Major Powell was a very interesting man and seemed delighted to share in our home life. I decided to make him a pair of buckskin gloves from some soft, white buckskin the Indians had given me. One of his arms was partly missing, and the gloves had nice, wide gauntlets that covered his injured arm. He seemed so pleased and happy with his new gloves. "Jacob had a wife, Louisa, whom he had married shortly after Rachel's death. Louisa still lived in Santa Clara; and on one of his trips back to see her, Jacob met with Brigham Young and some of the other church authorities. They had blessed him in his work with the Indians; and on December 15, 1876, Jacob was formally ordained by President Brigham Young as an apostle to the Lamanites. In Kanab, we had a nice young orchard. Jacob moved his other wife, Louisa, and her one child born in Santa Clara to Kanab. Louisa had four children born to her in Kanab. There I had two more daughters: Mary Elizabeth, born September 25, 1872; and Clara Melvina, born November 5, 1876. Besides our new orchard and home, we also had some cattle-big roan Durham cows that were very good milkers, horses, chickens, pigs, and a good garden spot. Once again we were able to have a good living. I also did a lot of nursing and delivering babies in Kanab.

ON THE MOVE AGAIN
"Again the call came--to Arizona this time. Jacob asked me to go with him, and he left Louisa there at the home in Kanab. As we drove out of Kanab and started the climb to Jacob's Lake in the Buckskin Mountains, Jacob noticed the tears of sadness in my eyes. Turning to me he said, 'Now my Pet, I will take you back if you are going to be so depressed and upset. I know it is asking a lot of you to go with me. The trip will be a long, hazardous journey, with many miles of weary travel'. 'No, no!' I told him; 'I'm willing to follow you wherever you want me to go and be by your side. So just drive on!' While crossing the Colorado River and Lee's Backbone, I felt as though I was going into Dante's Inferno. "In Arizona, we again found the rugged responsibilities of pioneering a new state. There were hard times beyond anything so far experienced. Bread was made from frostbitten barley, when we had bread. Some days passed with only a crust of bread in the house. To see my children wanting and needing the bare necessities of life, and suffering from hunger and exposure, was the hardest trial for me. It was more than I could have borne had it not been for the love and help of my children. My load was lifted and my life made easier by the love of my oldest son, Jake Jr. and my sweet daughter, Ella Ann. They worked at any odd jobs they could find. They pulled weeds for the Mexican farmers, and Jake helped cultivate the fields and harvest the crops. We were living at Milligan's Fort in Amity, near Springerville, which is above Eagar on the Little Colorado River. Mr. Milligan would have odd jobs around his gristmill for Jake to do; and Ella found washings and ironing to do along with other housework. These loved ones bought clothing and shoes for the younger children. Jake would often come home with a leg of fresh mutton, or twenty-five pounds of flour from the gristmill. "The older boys had driven five, nice Durham cows from Utah for us, but we needed other things besides milk. Also, feed was so scarce the first year that there wasn't enough for the cow to eat in order to produce milk. The older boys had gone back to Utah, and Jacob was away from home a lot. The Mexican farmers liked Ella and Jake to pull weeds for them better than they did their own men, because they worked faster and longer. They did not finish a row, then sit down and smoke for long periods of time. The farmers paid Jake and Ella more money too, which made the Mexican laborers mad. They argued that young people should not make more than grown men. It was good experience for Ella and Jake, and they were so happy they could find these jobs to help out. "Two little boys were born to me at Amity, Arizona: Jabez Dudley, born May 5, 1880; then Don Carlos, born February 16, 1882. "Jacob had to be away often doing missionary work with the Navajo Indians. At that time, the renegade Apache, Geronimo, was on the warpath. Though they were never able to do much teaching to the Apache, the missionaries did bring a sense of peace and honor to these remote places. Brother Ammon Tenney was a very good Indian missionary. He went with Jacob Hamblin on several hazardous trips, and his faith and influence helped the missionaries through some of the most trying ordeals. In 1876, President Wilford Woodruff visited the Arizona settlements. He set me apart as a midwife. I had been in this work since I was a girl, assisting my mother and Jacob's sister, Melissa, who were both trained and very competent. President Woodruff gave me a very choice blessing and told me that I would never lose a mother or child; if I prayed often and would heed the warnings of the spirit. This blessing came true because I never did lose a mother or baby; and the Lord blessed me and directed me on several occasions when nature was not working just right. I received a lot of satisfaction in this field of work.

AN END AND A BEGINNING
"I had yet another Mormon settlement, in Pleasanton, New Mexico, to help pioneer; and another state to help develop. We found a nice farm on the Frisco River, where the land fertile and rich, and the climate was good. It seemed we could again have our orchard of fruit and a good garden; we had plenty of water. Jacob had to be gone from home so much. By then, he had also moved Louisa from Utah, and we both had started to build our homes. Jacob was working at Coony Canyon for a mining company, taking a contract to get out stulls or timbers.used in the mines at Mogollon. "It was August, 1886, and we had all come down with chills and fever. I couldn't raise my head from the pillow, and my two youngest boys, Dudley and Carl, were very sick. My two daughters, Mary and Clara, were sick but were able to feed and care for the rest of us. Louisa came in several times to see about us, and bring us food and broth. During the night, I thought I heard a horse and someone ride up. I woke Clara and sent her to see who it was. Her father, Jacob, had gone into Louisa's place. Clara put on her dress and went over to see if he was all right. After a little while, she came back and said her father was so sick he did not know where he was. 'Old Bowlegs,' the little mule he rode, had brought him home. Clara had helped Louisa take his clothes off and get him into bed. He never came out of his delirium to recognize anyone. We called the elders, Brothers Johnson and Maxwell, to administer to him. I lay in bed not able to go to him, but I prayed for the return of his health. Not only was Jacob tired and sick, but he was poor as well. The privations and hardships of his many years of travel had weakened him, and he suffered from malaria. On that memorable day, August 31, 1886, with only a small part of his family at his bedside; and in a small cabin in the high mountains of New Mexico, where he had helped blaze enduring trails of peace, my beloved Jacob slipped away to join the prophets in death. He was buried there at Pleasanton, New Mexico. Then, three years later, his brother, Fredrick Hamblin, moved his remains to Alpine, Arizona. Alpine, a tiny crossroads, where the 'Peacemaker to the Lamanites' sleeps the eternal sleep, is near the ancient Indian trails where red men and white men now pass in the peace he taught them by the Gospel and by Christian example. "I had to gather up my children, as soon as I could travel, and go back to Nutrioso, Arizona. My son, Jake, lived there as well as my daughter Ella Ann Tenney, who had married Warren M. Tenny. My son and wonderful son-in-law helped me purchase a neat little home that had been owned by a Brother Brown. Upon Jacob's death, the Church gave each of us widows $500 apiece. I then had a few dollars to purchase a milk cow and team and wagon, which were so necessary at that time. We did not realize anything from our Pleasanton property. A man by the name of Mr. Wheeler came back and foreclosed on all the property he had sold to the Mormon people. Everyone lost their farms and homes. Some of the Saints went to old Mexico to the Mormon colonies there; others went to the Gila Valley settlements in Arizona; some of us went back to the White Mountains of Arizona. My four oldest children were married and living in Arizona. Mary and Clara had married while living in Nutrioso. Clara had married Orsa Nichol from Ramah, New Mexico, and Mary married Edward Beeler, who became sheriff of Apache County, Arizona. "I found peace and much happiness here in the small village of Nutrioso where all my loved ones helped and shared with me so much. Edward Beeler, Mary's husband, had made some enemies while he was in office. He had not been out of office long when he was ambushed and shot on his ranch north of St. John's. His hired man could not get him into the ranch house before he died. Since he and Mary did not have any children, Mary then came to live with me. Dudley was called on a mission for the Church to the Southern States. Ed Beeler had been from Tennessee; so when Dudley left, Mary went with him to visit Ed's sisters and other relatives there. When Mary returned from Tennessee, she persuaded me to sell our home in Nutrioso, Arizona. We then bought a place in Eagar, Arizona, and had a very nice, new home built on it. "My oldest son Jake, was elected sheriff of Apache County, Arizona. Then several years later, he was elected to the Arizona House of Representatives from our county. Mary went with him and took a job, at the capitol building in Phoenix. She later filled a mission for the Church to the Northwestern states for two years. "I stayed with my sweet daughter, Ella Ann Tenney, in Alpine. Her good husband was a bishop of the Alpine Ward for many years. She had ten boys and three girls, all of which I delivered, and they grew up around me. We had such a deep love for one another. In my years as a midwife, I delivered over one-thousand babies, many of them members of my own family. In the summer months, we would go up to the milk ranch on Coyote Creek, high up in the mountains. There they took their cattle for the summer to make cheese and butter, and to raise pork for their winter use. Lyman, Jacob's son was married and lived close to us. He played the violin at young peoples' parties and dances, and I enjoyed going and listening to him play. My last years have been such happy ones. Though I am almost blind, my loving family sees that I am happy, with plenty of attention, as well as the necessities of life." Sarah Priscilla Leavitt Hamblin died 24 July, 1927. She is buried in the Alpine Cemetary at Alpine, Arizona next to her beloved husband, Jacob Vernon Hamblin.