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The Ancestors of
Edgel Frandsen Liechty
C H A P T E R 3
THE ANCESTORS OF LOUISE WINTSCH (1849 1908)
GENERATION NO. 1
They had 11 children:
f i. Maria Louise LIECHTY, born 22 Jan 1866 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
m ii. John Nicholas LIECHTY, born 7 Dec 1867 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
m iii. Abraham Brigham LIECHTY, born 10 Mar 1870 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
m iv. Frederick Bernhard LIECHTY, born 27 Jan 1872 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
m v. Christian Hyrum LIECHTY, born 16 Feb 1874 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
m vi. Enoch Aaron LIECHTY, born 8 Feb 1876 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
f vii. Martha Josephine LIECHTY, born 20 Feb 1879 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
f viii. Rosina Esther LIECHTY, born 1 Mar 1882 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
m ix. Josiah Nephi LIECHTY, born 21 Mar 1883 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
m x. Ephraim Ammon LIECHTY, born 17 Sep 1887 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
f xi. Elizabeth Sarah Edna LIECHTY, born 18 Aug 1892 in Provo, Utah, Utah.
Martha, Elizabeth and Rosina Liechty
Clockwise from left front: Christian, Fred,
John, A. Brigham, Johannes, Enoch,
Louise in Center
GENERATION NO. 2
2. Casper WINTSCH was born in Kindhausen, Volketswil, Zurich, Switzerland, and was christened 30 Jan 1803 in Volketswil, Zurich, Switzerland,4. He was the son of 4. Martin WINTSCH and 5. Regula SAUERMANN. Casper died 30 Aug 1866 in Lehi, Utah, and was buried in Lehi, Utah5. He married (1) Dorothea WILLEMANN 2 Feb 1824 in Volketswil, Zurich, Switzerland6. She was christened 12 Sep 1793 in Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland7. She was the daughter of 6. Casper WILLEMANN and 7. Regula MADER. Dorothea died 22 Feb 1835 in Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland, and was buried in Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland.
They had 3 children:
m i. Rudolph WINTSCH, born about 1826 in Volketswil, Zurich, Switzerland.
m ii. Heinrich (Henry) WINTSCH, born 15 Apr 1828 in Kindhausen, Zurich, Switzerland. He married Anna BURKHARD 15 Mar 1852. They had 1 child. Anna was born 17 Oct 1819 in Affoltern, Zurich, Switzerland. Anna died 6 Aug 1900 in Manti, Sanpete, Utah, at the age of 80, and was buried in Manti, Sanpete, Utah. Heinrich died 20 Jan 1873 in Manti, Sanpete, Utah, at the age of 44, and was buried in Manti, Sanpete, Utah.
f iii. Barbara WINTSCH, born 1830 in Bisikon, Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland, died 16 Sep 1916, at the age of 86.
Casper married (2) 3. Anna WEILENMANN 25 May 1835 in St. Peter, Zurich, Switzerland.8 Marriage Notes: Marriage entry: Volketswil, Zurich, Switzerland FHL #995,911 page 310 CasperWintsch from Kindhausen and Anna Weilenmann from Bisikon in Illnau. She was christened 30 May 1807, confirmed 1826. parents Kasper Weilenmann and Regula Mader. banns 17 Married 25 May 1835 in St. Peter Cathedral,Zurich. Note: All of the children, except #4, Hans Ulrich (Heinrich) Wintsch were christened in St. Peter Cathedral in the City of Zurich, but were most likely born in Aussersihl (a suburb of Zurich City) where they were living. Could not find child #4 Hans Ulrich (Heinrich).,9.
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Dorothea Willeman/ Wylimann by Elaine L. Jenkins
Dorothea Wylimann was born 12 Sep 1793 at Bisikon, Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland daughter of Kaspar Wylimann or Willemann and Regula Fader or Mader English spelling, She was the oldest child of nine children She grew up in Bisikon, Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland. When she was 5 years old her brother Johannes died at the age of 19 months 15 February 1798. Eleven days later her mother gave birth to another baby boy who they also named Johannes born 26 February, 1798. Three years
later this Johannes also died 28 April 1801. At this time her mother had a baby just 1 year old named Heinrich born 2 February 1800 and in July of the same year had a another new baby boy named Johannes born 27 Jul 1801 which lived just 2 months. So, in 3 years her mother had 3 children and had 3 children die, Then when she was 8 years old her mother had another baby and it died when it was 3 1/2 years old. When she was 10 her mother had a baby Jacob born 21 December 1804 and he died when it was 9 days old, When she was 14 years old her mother had her last baby Anna born 30 May 1807. Dorothea, I'm sure, had to help her mother a lot, she being the oldest child. She had helped her mother with 8 new babies, and was there to help her mother when 4 of her brothers and a sister died, Dorothea continued to help her mother with the 2 brothers and 1 sister. When she was 25 years old, her mother passed away leaving her father with 4 children, she was unmarried,
About a year later her father married Regula Sauernmann on July 28, 1819 who had 6 children by two previous marriages, This made a big family to care for, 10 children, Her oldest boy was only 15 years old.
Dorothea must have lived with her father and step mother until she was married at the age of 31 years old. She married her step mother=s oldest boy Caspar Wintsch who was her step brother and he being 10 years younger than she. He was 21 and she was 31 years old when they got married, They were married February 2, 1824 at Volketswil, Zurich, Switzerland,
They were blessed with 3 children; Rudolph born about 1826 and died very young we don't have the date, Heinrich or Henry Sr, and Barbara,
After Caspar and Dorothea were married 11 years Dorothea died February 22, 1835. Henry was 7 years old and Barbara was 5 years old. Dorothea's sister Anna came to keep house for Caspar and his children. About 3 months later Caspar married Anna Wylimann who was 4 years younger than he on May 25, 1835. She raised Caspar and Barbara and had 8 children of her own,
Dorothea died before they joined the LDS Church and came to the USA, She is buried in Switzerland, She is probably buried in Kindhausen, Zurich: Switzerland where she and Caspar lived after they were married,
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3. Anna WEILENMANN was born 30 May 1807 in Bisikon, Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland, and was christened 31 May 1807 in Illnau, Zurich, Switzerland10. She was the daughter of 6. Casper WILLEMANN and 7. Regula MADER.
Anna died 4 Sep 1862 on the Plains, Nebraska, at the age of 55, and was buried on the Plains.
They had 8 children:
m iv. Jacob WINTSCH, born 29 Aug 1837 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland, christened 9 Sep 1837 in St. Peter, Zurich, Switzerland11. He married (1)
Margaretha SCHWARZ. Jacob married (2) Anna BURKHARD. Jacob died 1 Jul 1862 on the Plains, Nebraska, at the age of 24, and was buried on the Plains, Nebraska.
f v. Magdalena WINTSCH, born 9 Mar 1839 in Aausserrsihl, Zurich, Switzerland, christened 23 Mar 1839 in St. Peter, Zurich, Switzerland,12. She married John MATHIS 11 Nov 1861. Magdalena died 1862 in St. George, Washington, Utah, at the age of 22.
f vi. Anna WINTSCH, born 12 Sep 1841 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland, christened 12 Sep 1841 in St. Peter, Zurich, Switzerland,13, died in infancy 1 Oct 1842 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland.
m vii. Hans Ulrich (Heinrich) WINTSCH, born about 1842 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland.
CHRISTENING: Hans Ulrich (Heinrich) Wintsch not found in the St Peter,Zurich, Switzerland Parish Records as being christened under the parents of Casper and Anna Wintsch along with the other children.
m viii. John Ulrich WINTSCH, christened 1 Mar 1843 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland,14. He married (1) Francis Sarah SMITH 4 Oct 1866. John married (2) Elizabetha BOSSHARD 29 Nov 1869. John died Sep 1909. Notes for John:
CHRISTENING: Christened as Ulrich Wintsch.
f ix. Elizabeth WINTSCH, born 27 Feb 1845 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland,15, christened 12 Apr 1845 in St. Peter, Zurich, Switzerland16, died in childhood 10 Oct 1851 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland, at the age of 6.17
1. f x. Louise WINTSCH, born 13 Feb 184918, died 17 Sep 1908.
f xi. Anna Caroline WINTSCH, born 15 Jan 1851 in Aussersihl, Zurich, Switzerland, christened 22 Feb 1851 in Aussersihl, Switzerland. 19 Anna married Nicholas MUHLESTEIN 18 Apr 1868 in Salt Lake City, Utah. They had 9 children. Nicholas also married (1) Mary HAUENSTEIN 6 May 1858 in Koellinken, Aargau, Switzerland. Anna died 23 Apr 1934 in Provo, Utah, at the age of 83, and was buried in Provo City Cem. Notes for Anna:
BIRTH: Aussersihl Par Reg has Anna born on 25 Jan 1851 Vol 95 pg 22 #11.Her christening name was Anna.
NOTES for AnnaWeilenmannWintsch:
DEATH: Anna died on the plains two days travel from Omaha, Nebraska where the Platte River runs straight along the trail.
Casper married (3) Margretha KUHN about 1864. She was born 23 Oct 1839 in Beetenholtz, Zurich, Switzerland. Margretha died 19 Feb 1906, at the age of 66.
They had 2 children:
f xii. Mary WINTSCH, born 18 Apr 1865 in Lehi, Utah. She married Casper NAGLE about 1886 Of, Lehi, Utah, Utah,20. Mary died 27 Feb 1896, at the age of 30.
f xiii. Emma WINTSCH, born 13 Sep 1866 in Lehi, Utah, Utah, died in infancy 11 Sep 1866 in Lehi, Utah, Utah.
SOURCE NOTES for Casper:21
ANNA CAROLINE WINTSCH MUHLESTEIN,
ELEVENTH CHILD OF CASPAR WINTSCH
Came to Utah in 1862
with additional information written by
Bertha Hooks Ramsey
Submitted by Ida Ashton Ercanbrach
I, Anna Caroline Wintsch Muhlestein, was born January 12, 1851, in the small village of Ausserahiel, near Zurich, Switzerland. My Father was Kasper Wintsch, born January 30, 1803. He was the son of Martin Wintsch and Regula Sauermann. My Mother was Anna Weilemann, born May 30, 1807, daughter of Kasper Weilemann and Regula Mader. I was christened in a big Cathedral in Zurich. My father's parents died before I was born, so I never got to see a grandfather or a grandmother.
While I was a small child, Father bought a home on a little farm at Altsteten, a few miles from Zurich. The new home was built of wood and plaster with a siecle (See e kel) roof. Siecle is a kind of burned brick or tile, one inch thick and twelve inches long. The top of the tile was molded into a hook to fasten onto the row above. This made a very durable roof and a good water proof covering.
This house had four rooms down stairs and a hall way for the stairs. The kitchen was on the northwest corner. The living room was the largest. It was on the northeast and Mother's bedroom on the southeast and the boy's bedroom was in the southwest corner. The upstairs rooms were the same size as those downstairs. The girls slept upstairs. Directly under the stairway leading up was a stairway going into the cellar. One day in my excitement of playing I opened the cellar door and fell down the stairs into the cellar. I was not badly hurt, but thoroughly frightened. What a fuss I made, they thought I was nearly killed.
In the corner of the kitchen next to the living room was the stove and oven. The cooking hearth was on the kitchen side; it was made of sandstone and there were steps on it we could warm our feet on. The living room side of the stove was very pretty, being furnished in a colored glazed tile. The top of it was flat and large enough to make a bed on if necessary. The bread was baked in the huge oven in this stove. It was heated by bundles of faggots. When hot, the embers were swept out and the bread put in and baked with the stored heat.
I started school when I was six. My older sister Louise and I went to school at eight every morning. Our teacher was a musician and we learned to sing many beautiful songs.
Mother had to get up long before five o'clock in the mornings to get my brothers, Jacob and John, off to the city to work. They worked at a big iron works in Zurich. Mattie, my older sister, had to work in the silk factory in the village. She had a nice Sunday dress of gray wool and an every day dress of coarser material. She didn't spend money on pretty things, but gave every cent she made to her father. She would sit in her room and crochet lace to sell for sheets for a little spending money. (All the sheets had lace on!)
After Mother had gotten us all to our different destinations she had to go out in the fields to work, or carry large baskets of stuff to the city, besides all this she had to come in and cook dinner at about eleven o'clock for Louise, Mattie and me. The boys did not come home for dinner. Mother never had time to clean up the house and so Mattie, who got off early from the factory every Saturday, had to do the scrubbing and other cleaning. She scrubbed the floor with sand which made it as white as snow.
After school Louise and I, when Louise wasn't working in the factory, had to get potatoes from the cellar and cook them for supper. Jakob and John came home from their work, Mattie from hers and Mother and Father from the fields, and we all sat down to a big table of potatoes, with no butter and no meat.
We had to dip our potatoes in salt and sometimes we had a little coffee with milk in it. We didn't have to decide what to cook--it was always potatoes. The potatoes that were left from supper had to be sliced and ready to be warmed for breakfast as Mother did not have time to cook.
Sometimes, after school, I would run over to the factory to see what Mattie was doing. The factory was not far away, being in the same village.. One time at noon Mattie's boss said to her, "You don't have to go home and gnaw any bones." and Mattie replied, "Thank you, I don't have any bones to gnaw." We
never had meat except on Sundays and luxuries of any kind were unknown to us. I did not know what preserves were.
Father raised peas, beans, carrots, potatoes, parsley, turnips and cabbage. He had to buy flour because our farm was too small to raise wheat and rye. He bought lean cattle and fattened them and resold them. We always had plenty of sweet butter and milk. Mother raised flowers for the market; I remember tulips, such pretty tulips, double pinks, dahlias, six week stalks and some I don't remember. She arranged them in bouquets, placed them in a large flat basket and carried them to town on her head. Mother was a very straight lady and very pretty.
About twice a year a seamstress was hired to come to our home to make clothes for Mother and the girls. These were made from native linen and imported cotton. Once a year a village tailor came to sew for the men folks. I can see him now, perched upon the table with his needles, thread and cloth around him. He looked awfully funny to me.
Many of the poor people were employed as weavers in cold damp cellars, or to go to the fields to cut wheat with a sickles. Their backs were so bent with labor that they never could straighten up. They were so poor they could not get milk for their babies, so many of them died. It was no wonder they longed to emigrate to Utah when the Gospel found them.
Dr. Fred V. Taylor often said to me, "How could you leave such a beautiful country?" I told him it was only beautiful for the rich. The poor or even the middle class people had no chance to grow or enjoy the country.
My Fathers first wife, Dorothea Weilemann, was a sister to my mother. She died leaving three children, Barbara, Henry and Rudolf. (Rudolf died very young)
My mother went to keep house for them and married my father about a year after her sister died. My parents had six children; Jakob, born 29 August 1837, Magdalena, born 3 march 1839, Hans Ulrich, born 1842, John Ulrich, born 3 March 1843, Elizabeth, born 1846, Louise, born 13 February 1849, and myself. Hans Ulrick and Elizabeth died when very small.
Barbara married Henry Hausheer and lived between our house and the city, near some small lakes. It was a very beautiful place, just like a garden every where. Hills covered with grapes, large picturesque purple bunches, and half hidden among these there could be seen houses with green shutters. Sometimes Louise and I would walk to Barbara's, but we were never allowed to go farther for fear we would get lost. On the way to Barbara's we had to pass over the bridge which connected our village with the city. Just as we got inside the gates we had to turn and go up a hill and around a lake, as Barbara's house was built near the lake. She would give us nice large apples and apricots to eat. Barbara could not understand Mormonism.
Henry married Anna Burkhard and had four sons born in Switzerland. He and his wife both accepted the Gospel and came to Utah. Both died in Manti, Utah.
In 1855 Aunt Verena Bryner, (we just called her Aunt Bryner) Father's only sister, heard the Gospel first. She lived by the big city of Zurich. Aunt Bryner told us about the Gospel and Mother and Mattie often went to church with her. Her son, Ulrich, who was married, had an awful accident and became blind. He was killing a pig and the knife slipped and cut his eyes. The doctors could do nothing for him. His mother went into his room and said, "Don't feel so bad that you are blind. It is for some reason, but we can't see it." And so it was. For it was the means of bringing them to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day-Saints. While my cousin, Ulrich was lying in bed pondering over his awful plight, he heard there were some Mormon Elders in the city. He told his sisters, Barbara and Frena to go find them. But they could not find them. He sent them out again and they brought Brother Myers back with them. He administered to Ulrich and he could see a little, but it vanished again, but he knew he heard the truth. He asked his sisters how the man looked, they told him and he said such a man appeared to him when he was very sick. When he was going to school his school mate died of typhoid fever and Ulrich was not expected to live. At this time a man appeared to him and told him he would have to go through some fires before he could die. So he was happy he had heard the Gospel. He never grumbled and he sure went through some fires. Of sixteen children he only saw two. He raised some fine sons and daughters. So through all this my dear parents got the testimony of the Gospel.
Mother and Mattie joined the church long before Father and the rest of us did. But Father never spoke anything against it, he let Mother go to their meetings and, later, when they had no place to hold their meetings he let them hold them in our house. And he stood up for the Mormons. He loved the Elders and studied the Bible faithfully. One night Elder Miller came to our house after we younger children were in bed. He asked Father if he was ready to be baptized. Father said he was. He awakened us children and we all went to a big reservoir that had been made by the railroad by digging gravel. That night, Father, Louise, the boys and I were baptized. On the way home it seemed to me I didn't touch the ground. I seemed to be flying. I was so happy I ran ahead all the way. Louise was twelve years old and I was ten. Oh! how I rejoiced to be a Mormon and when the school children called us names I didn't care. I was so glad I was a Mormon. And my dear mother was so happy she got to looking younger and stronger than she had for years.
As soon as father was baptized the spirit of gathering came upon him. He sent Mattie, in 1861, with the Lehmann's to Utah, a year before we came. I rode in the train with her for a short distance when she was leaving. I thought it was wonderful.
Father sold our home and got gold for it in 1862. We were all so happy to go to Utah to see our dear sister and the rest of our dear ones. Aunt Bryner, her son and wife, with one of their children had emigrated several years before. They could just take one of the children because cousin Ulrich was blind, so they left the one with the grand parents. They crossed the plains in the hand cart company. We received letters from them, but never a word of complaint. They were always thankful for the Gospel. My sister, Mattie or Magdalena, who had with the others and emigrated in 1861 met her folks in Cache Valley. They were gathering their crops when she arrived. Brigham Young had called them to go to Dixie to colonize that awful country, so she with another girl went to Dixie. Both got married. Both died there.
My aunt and family worked and toiled, raised cotton and spun it into cloth. They had to make their own thread. They planted peaches and grapes, they had to dry their fruit in order to sell it. They had to haul it three hundred miles to Salt Lake City. It would take three weeks one way, but they succeeded in building up the country, making it blossom like a rose..
They never grumbled because they knew it was the Lord's work and will. They raised big families and they all helped build the St. George Temple. And there has been a lot of work done for our ancestors in that Temple on my fathers side and on my mothers side.
Father hired a hay rack to get us and our baggage to the station. I was so young that I wasn't a bit sorry to leave, it was all a big adventure to me. We went through Hamburg into France. Brother Ballif was in charge of our company. There were about thirty people in all. While we were in Paris we had to stay right in our rooms at the hotel, unless there was a guide with us for fear of being kidnapped or robbed. One day in Paris I went to sleep, the guide came to take my folks to see the Palace of the King and to see the zoo. They locked me in my room. Oh! Wasn't I mad to be left.. I wanted to see the animals, I didn't care about the Palace. They said they were glad they left me asleep because I was such a harem scarem it was hard to keep track of me.
Then we went to the seaport town of Havre. Our ship had to be repaired and we had to wait eight days. As there were a number of young people in our company, Brother Ballif advised those who intended to marry in Utah to get married before we sailed. My brother, Jakob was one of them. He consulted Father and they thought it would be better to wait. The girl and her folks felt pretty bad, but later, when Jakob died they were glad.
As we watched Havre fading from view we were much interested. As I had been to school five years and had studied history and geography and this all made me think of Columbus and how he said the world was round. We could plainly see the earth was round as first the low objects went from view, the small houses and last the great towers seemed to go into the water and when we turned around there was nothing to see but water. Water everywhere. It was so strange to us for we had always lived in the country with great high mountains all around us.
We were five weeks on the sea. We got pretty sick of the voyage; nothing to eat but hard tack, not half enough water to drink. It was an old ship fixed up, we had no lights, nothing. Father wanted more comforts for us and was willing to pay for them, but other members of the company couldn't afford it and we had to stay together. As it was, Father was helping a number of people.
We slept in bunks way down in the ship and each family prepared it's own meals in a temporary kitchen up on deck. We had coffee to drink which was awfully hard on us, as we had been used to plenty of good water and all the milk we could use. The bread was hard and all the food salted down. You can imagine how well we liked it when we even ate unsalted butter back home. One day I was so terribly thirsty I asked a negro cook for a drink of water. He gave me a dipper full. It tasted so good I drank it all and didn't even spill a drop. The next day I asked him again for a drink, this time he refused and told me to run along.
Some people were leaning over the rail, dangling a bucket into the water, I asked them to give me a drink of sea water. They did, and Oh! What nasty stuff. It tasted like epsom salts and even worse. I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth and my lips and tongue burned.
A storm came up suddenly one day, we all rushed down into the cabins and the port holes were close up. For three days we were locked up in the cabins. It was terrible, no air, no light, no cooked food. When they tried to cook the kitchen got on fire and a little twin girl, about four or five years old got frightened and hid behind some boxes. Every one hunted for her, they thought she was burned or drowned. They were so relieved when she popped out from behind the boxes that they all sang.
The trunks bumped from one side to the other of the cabin, so we couldn't sleep, and any how we were afraid of falling out of our bunks because the ship tossed and rocked so much. The captain let the anchor down to drag to keep the ship from going backwards, the wind was so strong. When the storm was over we went on deck and the waves came and pretty near washed us overboard.
In spite of all the hardships, Louise and I had some fun running wild on deck. We made up a game with the waves. We would stand by the railing and chant as the waves came toward us, "This one will go over and this one will break". Sometimes when they broke they would splash all over the deck and get us all wet.
My brother, Jakob, took sick and could not take the sick and the old people on his back and take them up on deck anymore. He got so sick they had to pack him up on deck.
Our ship had been delayed by the storms. Everyone was anxiously waiting for the first sight of land and when a small black spot came above the water a great shout went up, "Land-land- once more land". My! What a noise. Every one screamed, some of the people laughed and cried for joy. We were so glad as Columbus and his sailors. It was just a little black spot, and as we watched it grow bigger and bigger and BIGGER.
So, at last we arrived in New York City. We had such a back wind we never would have gotten into the harbor if they had not pulled our ship in with a steamer. I'll never forget how beautiful the world looked after seeing nothing but water and the ship for five weeks.
We were quarantined at Castle Gardens in New York City. Father thought the best treat he could give us was a supper of bread and milk, but the baker's bread was a disappointment to us.
Then came the journey through the United States. From here our journey to the Mississippi was by train. The cars had no comforts, no upholstered seats. They didn't even have water. When ever the train would stop for water we would get off and fill everything we could with water from the railroad tanks. One day Jakob took two bottles to fill, he was the last one to get back to the train and it started before he reached it , so he had to throw them away to jump on. He was sick and too weak to hold onto the bottles- of water, much as we needed them. So, on and on, day and night until we got to St. Louis. Then we went on a steamship across the Mississippi and up the Missouri river. Jakob Ballif was the agent and he took care of the company. He put us in the machinery room, which smelled of oil and was very unpleasant. My poor brother, Jakob, had been sick on the ship and kept getting worse. My poor mother began wearing out from tending him night and day, along with all the hardships of the voyage. There was no place for her to rest so she had to lye down under a workbench where the machinery was. Father could hardly stand to see his dear ones suffer so terribly and he could do nothing to comfort them.
Our destination was Florence, Nebraska. Father thought he could make the sick ones more comfortable there, but to our surprise there were no houses to be had. A half mile away was a house, and a half mile away in the other direction was another house. This was Florence.
A man met the steamer with a wagon and a team. The sickest of the company, which included Jakob, who lay prostrate, were put in the wagon. The rest of us walked up from the river in the night and they put us in the only place they had, a stable where the government kept horses for the soldiers who had to protect the people from the Indians. It was clean and clean straw was put down for our beds and it was dry. The people were glad to get under the shelter from the drizzling rain, however, some complained. Finally, a woman spoke up and said, "Wasn't the Savior born in a manger? Who, then, are we to complain? We should feel honored." After that there was no more complaining. There were no stoves so we had to learn to cook on camp fires, and get ready for the long journey across the plains.
We had to stay in Florence three weeks, and all this time my poor mother lay prostrate on the floor, and it was so hot. Also, my brother, Jakob, lay prostrate with no comforts. Then my brother, John, took sick. My poor father felt awful because he could not make his sick more comfortable. He didn't know whether to go with friends or stay in Florence without friends. Mother and Father knew Jakob could not live, but finally started out with their friends. We were just out one day when he died- July 1, 1862. Father was able to get a hardwood coffin for him at Florence.
Father had to hire a man to drive the oxen and a girl to cook for us. My poor mother had to lie in the wagon on the trunks under the hot wagon cover all day. At noon they had to take her out and lay her under the wagon to get a little air, and then drag her back into the wagon to be jolted over the rough roads. One night Father woke us up he said Mother wanted to tell us goodbye and kiss us, so after we all kissed her she passed away, September 4, 1862, on the plains.
Oh! My poor father felt so lonesome. What hurt him most was that he couldn't get a coffin for Mother. They had to sew her up in a sheet and a blanket. Brother Ballif, our president, told them to make the grave deep and to make a shelf so they could put willows on, so the dirt wouldn't lay on the body and so no animals could scratch it up. Then we had to go on. We had the hope of seeing our dear sister, Mattie, who had emigrated in 1861.
So we journeyed on. My younger brother, John, was still very sick with mountain fever. At last he began to get better, but was awfully weak and there was nothing for him to eat. We couldn't make light bread. All we had was hard tack and bacon and he could not eat it, so it was a good thing we fetched a cow with us from Nebraska. She gave a little milk and that was what brought him back to his strength. Poor cow, she had to be driven along with the oxen and there was not much for the oxen and cows to eat. Everything was getting pretty dry, but we were glad we had a little milk for my brother.
We had gotten provisions at Omaha, Nebraska. Enough to do us until we reached Salt Lake City. They consisted of flour, sugar, rice, dried apples, bacon and coffee. Sometimes we had to drink our coffee black to save the milk for our brother, John. Which was all that kept him alive on that long journey.
Father bought two charter-oak stoves. He paid $25 a piece for them. In Salt Lake City they were $100 a piece. He wanted to buy a step stove, to attach to the wagon and which would make it more convenient to cook, but Brother Ballif advised him not to. Afterward he was sorry he had not bought one. He also purchased some farm implements. We had to depend on others for everything as we could not speak English. At Winter Quarters we were fired out to cross the plains. We had two wagons and three yoke of oxen. Brother Henry had two yoke of oxen and two cows. One of the cows gave a little milk, but some times we had to yoke her up with the oxen.
We traveled on and on. A few miles before we reached Migration Canyon our company stopped and repacked. My nephew, Henry, who was about ten years old and I watched with much interest. After a while one of the people noticed us and asked what we were doing and why we weren't with our own people, because they were going another way to Provo and not going to Salt Lake City.
We looked around then, and saw that our wagons were gone. We got scared and began to run, but we couldn't see our wagon train and it began to get dark. We kept on walking and were so tired. Every noise made us jump. We were so afraid we would meet a bear or some Indians, but we didn't dare stop. I kept saying, "Lets sit down, I can't walk any farther." Finally we saw two camp fires a long ways off. We didn't know which was ours. One might be Indians, but we didn't dare stop so went toward the nearest one. It was our camp and they were eating supper, and some of them were getting ready to hunt us. They were so relieved to see us that we didn't get the whipping we expected.
The next day a man came, a two days journey from Salt Lake City, to meet us, he was my sister's husband, John Mathis. He told us that she had died in Dixie. Oh! What a shock! I ran and told it to some of the people who knew her well in the old country. The girls said they knew it a long time ago, but Brother Ballif, our president forbade them to tell us the sad news until we reached the Rocky Mountains as we had had so much trouble. He thought it would be too much for my poor father, for he wanted to see her so much. It was a shock for all of us. I felt that if we had her she would take the place of Mother, and we wouldn't be so lonesome. She was such a good girl and my sister Louise and I surely needed a mother.
We were a sorry looking crowd when we reached Salt Lake City, weary, dirty, ragged, with chapped hands and burned faces. We were going on to Dixie, but we couldn't travel any farther. For one thing our oxen were so weak and poor and for another thing, my brother, Henry's wife had been very sick during the latter part of the journey and was still very weak and so we stopped in Lehi for the winter, thinking we would go to Dixie in the spring. But Father had a chance to buy a farm and house so we never went south. My brother's wife gradually got better. The two sisters, Sister
Bushman and Sister Zimmerman nursed her back to health and she was able to finish raising her three boys. She lived to see them married and with families. They moved to Manti and lived there.
My father married Margaret Kuhn, a young woman whom we knew in Switzerland. She stayed with us for three months in Switzerland. She had paid us rent for her room and wove silk in our house. My sister, Mattie had slept with her and talked about Mormonism with her. She had a lot of trouble in the old country and so came to Utah as soon as she could. After father married her I used to help her spin and weave.
Father still had some money and loaned it to Swiss people so they could come to Utah. A Swiss emigrant, John Liechty, living in Provo, came to our house. He met Louise and fell in love with her. Father gave his consent to their marriage. Soon after, my brother, John, was married. He went to Salt Lake with Father and they brought some emigrants back with them. Among the emigrants was an English girl, Francis Sarah Smith and her mother. The moment John looked into her eyes he fell in live with her. They were married soon after and were very happy until she died in child birth November 4, 1867. Two years later, November 29, 1869, he married Elizabeth Boshard. They had ten children but lost all of them in early childhood. Elizabeth was a wonderful woman and though she had been so unfortunate with her own children she adopted and raised a daughter.
Father died four years after we came to Lehi, August 30, 1866. He didn't see his and Margaret's second child. I was lonely after he died and so I came to Provo to see my sister, Louise, who had a young baby. One of their Swiss friends, Nicolas Muhlestein, needed a hired girl. I took the place. I did not mind the work for I liked Mrs. Muhlestein very much. She was a fine looking woman, even when old, her figure and skin were just about perfect. For two years I lived with them.
About this time Patriarch Smith came to Provo to give Patriarchal Blessings. Father Muhlestein persuaded me to get mine. Patriarch Smith told me to go on as I was doing; that the Lord was pleased with me, and that many trials and blessings were in store for me. This set me to thinking, I was about to listen to some young people who were having what they called a 'good time'. But I knew it was also a wild time.
I married Brother Muhlestein in the Endowment House, April 18, 1868. His wife, Mary and I were sealed to him the same day. Another room was built onto the house for me and an upstairs added over the original home. This house, when I first knew it, had a dirt roof. I remember once when it rained there wasn't a dry place to lay the baby in the whole house.
Brother Muhlestein's older children were boys and so Brother Liechty and he took up joining homesteads at the mouth of Rock Canyon. The first wife and children went to live on the farm. I was left in town with the small children. My oldest daughter, Mary Ann, was at the farm. She had to work awfully hard for a little girl eight years old.
Before I went to the farm all the children had the measles. They were all up in the attic, which was so low they could hardly move around with out bumping their heads. Water was brought up to them in a large bucket. However it was almost all gone before the last one was reached, so my poor little Mary Ann, who was in the farthest corner nearly died. It's a wonder she lived.
About this time there was a terrible wind storm from the east, trees were uprooted here in Provo and along the canal which is now eighth north. The first wife had left two of her babies with me and gone to the farm to help as the children up there were all sick. I was all alone with the babies, and I worried about those at the farm, and I was so frightened of the storm I wouldn't put the babies up in the attic to sleep for fear the wind would blow the roof off.
I stood the separation as long as I could. One morning, unable to stand it any longer I put my baby in the buggy, with what else I could carry, and walked with my four younger children to the farm. It took all day. I told my husband I would rather live with my family and have bread and potatoes than live in town and be separated from them, and so I stayed at the farm. At this time I had six children; Mary Ann, Louise, Esther, Enoch, Brigham and Israel.
It was in 1885 when I went up to the farm to join the family. Ida was born there about seven months later, March 6, 1886. Mary Ann was helping my sister Louise at the time. The other girls went around Cherrying in the summer. These little berries had to be scalded, then dried. They were sold to the mining camps. I had some chickens brought up from town, a year later we planted some strawberries and vegetables.
While Mary Ann and Louise were staying at my sister's her boys had typhoid fever. Enoch, one of her boys had been peddling, then came down with typhoid fever. He died shortly after and then Frederick came down with the fever and followed him. Barbara Rickenbach, a young woman from Switzerland, who was at the time staying with us on the farm went to the funerals for Enoch and Frederick, afterwards going up to the house. She came home and immediately took sick. However she got well, but my youngest child, Ephraim, took the fever. He was very ill for a long time. Ida came down with it in the summer, during July. It was so hot in the house we kept her out under the trees. About a year later Mary Ann and Louise came down with the fever and were sick for a long time. Louise nearly died. They were at my sister, Louise's house.
GENERATION NO. 3
Шайжин Н. Олонецкий край (по данным местного фольклора) // Памятная книжка Олонецкой губернии на 1908 год. Петрозаводск, 1908. С....
В 1908 г. Уотсон переходит в Университет Джона Гопкинса в Балтиморе, где заведует кафедрой экспериментальной сравнительной психологии...