AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MATILDA NEILSON PETERSON PIONEER OF SEPTEMBER 22, 1861 AUTOBIOGRAPHY A SKETCH OF MATILDA NEILSON PETERSON'S LIFE I was born in Copenhagen, Denmark, October 23, 1855 the daughter of Andrew and Dorothea Poulson Neilson, When I was five years old I used to "trot" over the old bridge to meet father when he worked at the old flour mill. Then father and mother joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, commonly called the Mormons. In 1861 they started for Utah. It was a hard trip, I was sick all the way, both across the sea and the plains. Many times when they looked in the wagon they thought I was dead, but Father said, "No, she will get well, because they promised me I should take my whole family to Zion." He was able to do so. May 16, 1861, we sailed on the Monarch of the Sea from Liverpool, the old ship was loaded, and we set out to sea. We had to throw a lot of our clothing and bedding over board, as we were not allowed to have so much on the ship. We arrived in New York June 19th. We went in cattle cars to Council Bluffs. There they bought their supplies, and father bought an old wagon, three cows and a yoke of oxen. We were now ready to start the long trip across the desert. The hardships of this journey are impossible to describe. Mother was sick but she walked all the way across the plains. The company arrived in Salt Lake City September 22, 186l. We stayed there a few days, then moved to a little valley called Morgan County. The road was almost impassable. We lived in a covered wagon most of the first winter, while father was getting our log cabin built. On the 10th of December a baby boy was born in the wagon. Kind friends carried mother to their cabin and cared for her and her baby. I remember a terrible rain storm came and they had to place pans around mother on the bed to catch the water that leaked through the dirt roof. Our cabin had a dirt roof and dirt floor, but, oh how happy we were to move into it. Our first cabin door had a wooden latch and the hinges were made of leather. A gunny sack covered the opening made for the window. When we got up in the morning, the first thing, we would look out to see where there was smoke coming. Then we would take our fire shovel and go over to get coals to start our fire to save matches. Our first winter here we lost one cow and one oxen for the want of food for them. Father cut what little hay he could in the hill, but did not have enough to last. In the spring both father and mother sheared sheep and took a share of the wool for their pay. Mother carded and spun the wool to make clothing for the family. They raised flax and hemp and mother spun it, and when I was eleven years old I wove it into sacks and wagon covers. Mother went into the fields every day with father and I took care of the children. Father would cut the hay with a scythe and mother would rake it with a hand rake. He cradled the wheat and she would bind it. The years were hard. I have a vivid picture in my mind of my mother's face and tears running down her cheeks when her little children would ask her for bread and she had none to give them. Our lot was fenced with poles. They were crooked and wiggly but us children could run on the top pole around the lot, but rem¬ember we were barefooted. I remember a deep pit they had a fire in where they would warm the flax so they could work it up. We would run and jump across this pit. One day a girl caught my dress and I fell in the bottom of this pit. There was a little excitement until mother got me out, because I was knocked cold. We had a heavy wooden box that we brought food in across the plains. Father made two wooden stools of logs to set this box on, we used this for a table. We also had the same kind of stools to sit on. The beds were made by driving posts in the ground and placing other poles across these, then straw on top. The childrens beds were made the same way only not stationary, and it was lower so it could be put under the larger bed in the day time. Our fireplaces were made of rock and sandstone with an iron bar across and hooks hanging down from this to hang our kettles on. For baking we had a heavy iron bake kettle. We would rake the hot coals out and put the bake ovens in the fire, and then the hot coals on top of the lid. Our only light was the light from the fireplace. Mother would spin yarn by this light. Later on when we had a little grease we would put a little in a plate and put a rag in it, and light the rag. Still later on when we had more grease or beef tallow we made candles I don't know whether I can make you understand how mother made the candles or not. Before they got the molds they took a sort of cord string, enough for about twelve candles. Then they melted the grease and to save on that they poured it on top of a pan of water. Then they dipped the strings in the grease and hung them up until the grease was set. Of course the first time they would be real small, but as they hardened they would dip them again and again, and each time the candle would grow a little. They could not afford enough grease to make them very large. But mother would always make a special one for Christmas so it had three lights. Later they used the candle molds. They raised flax, and mother spun the thread for the candles from this. For soap they made a sort of grate and put straw in it and then filled it with ashes and poured water over the ashes. When the water drained through it was strong lye water. By boiling this it made a soft jelly substance, or soft soap. It seems as though we didn't have any food. We boiled wheat mostly. Some of it we ground with an old coffee mill. After they started to raise vegetables it helped so much. We gathered wild fruit and dired for witner. We also dried wild rose leaves and steeped them for tea. The schools in those days were being held about three months of the year. The teacher would board around with different families, spending about two weeks in each home. Church and parties were held in the same old building. I fancy I can see that old school house now with a bunch of willows in one corner, and a young boy standing in one corner with a girls bonnet on, another with both arms in the air, his hands loaded down with books; and still another bent over standing on one leg with his finger on a crack in the floor. It sounds funny but it wasn't funny then. One of our teachers was an old lady named Mrs. Parkinson. She was a sweet old lady and a good singer, She owned the only hymn book in our town, and she used to teach us to sing, "We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet, " and "Zion Stands with Hill Surrounded." Sometimes when we would ask mother for bread she would feel so downhearted, and she would ask us to sing some of the songs that the old lady had taught us. Then the sun would shine a little brighter again. There is another thing I can never forget, how kind the people were to help in sickness or trouble and would never think of asking for pay. Father used to tell about things that happened in the old country. Then we young people would make a play out of his story, Zet Thurston and I were the only girls that would take part. We sure had a good time. This was done just for the fun of it, there were never any charges. The people used to enjoy it. When I was eleven years old I wove cloth to make myself a dress. Mother was so happy to know I could do so many things, but she was not here long to enjoy it. When I was twelve years old my mother died, leaving a baby sixteen days old. Father had another wife and she took the baby and nursed him as her own son, but he died when two years old. After Mother's death we children all had to get out and rustle for ourselves. I worked for sixty cents a week and had ten cows to milk night and morning. I had to go bare footed to do it all, and when a cow stepped on your bare foot it sure did hurt. I wonder how the girls now would like a job of that kind. I had to go bare footed in the summer to get shoes for winter. Father made something to wear on our feet. He often made wooden soles and put a strip of leather on the top, but we felt ashamed to wear them. More than once I have left them under the bench and sat in my stocking feet. Eli Whittier organized the first choir in Milton. He was living in Morgan at this time. When he came down he tried each ones voice alone. We were afraid and didn't want to go, but mother said we should go, as there was nothing nicer than singing in the home. One night when we were all ready to go to singing practice, the crowd had all gathered at our place, and we were going to see how tall we were. I reached across the place with a rule in my hand where my brother was chopping wood. The hatchet went into my arm. I fainted dead away. I nearly lost my arm. It got all right but I will always have the scar. I can never forget how we used to celebrate the 24th of July. We would form an emigrant train to show just how we came across the plains. Some would have only three oxen to show. One had died on the trip. Others would have a pole for the axel to rest on for they had lost a wheel. The kettles were hung under the wagon. We would walk and some of the women would have their aprons full of buffalo chips to build fire with when we camped at night. We would end up with a dance, and we would all have to dance in our bare feet. If you think that is fun just try it. When I was fifteen years old I went to Farmington to work. I worked six months and got ten dollars, some good pay. The man I was working for brought me home the middle of April when the water was real high. When we arrived in Weber Canyon he wanted to stop all night as his horses were tired, but I refused to stay, so I started to walk. When I came to Cottonwood Creek it was so high and no bridge. I walked down the creek until I came to a narrow place. I walked back quite a long way, then ran and gave a big jump. I caught some willows on the other side and pulled myself out, but I was wet up to my arm pits. When I arrived at Peterson I met a girl friend of mine, Lottie Peterson. She wanted me to stay with her, but I was too wet and dirty, so I refused, and started on toward home. Dalton and Smith Creeks were both high, but there were poles across so I got across all right. I was very tired by now, so I sat down to rest by a fence where Emil Olsen now lives. It was quite dark by this time, and I could feel my wet clothes freezing, so I got up and continued my journey. I arrived home between eleven and twelve o'clock. That was a trip I never will forget, if I live to be a hundred years old. The next year I worked in Huntsville. All winter I had plenty of work and little pay. Then I had a chance to go to Ogden to work but it took a long time before father would let me go. I worked at one place five years, and received three dollars a week. That was wonderful in those days. After I had been there a few weeks I received a letter from my brother Waldemer, asking me to write home. I will never forget my first letter I ever tried to write. My brother insisted I write when he knew I had never had a pencil in my hand, but I was game. I got a book with the letters in and a led pencil and paper, and started to write. It didn't look so bad while I was writing, but when I got it finished I couldn't read one word. I rolled it in a little ball and started to cry and was going to put it in the stove. I changed my mind. Instead I sat down, smoothed it out, and sent it. I thought he would never ask me to write again. Just as quick as my brother could answer, a letter came back. He said he could read every word. If he hadn't answered my questions I would have thought he was fibbing. He begged me to write again. I wrote again and kept on writing until it looked pretty fair, so there is no excuse for people to say they can't sign their own names. We hear people talk of their happy school days but I never had any. The people's name I worked for were Mr. and Mrs. John Stinger. They were sure fine people. They were as good to me as if I be¬longed to them. I liked them very much. We had twenty boarders all the time. We also served ice-cream and oysters in between. We served meals at all hours, so don't you think I earned my three dollars? Then the people moved to Montana. I got another job and worked there three years. I had a wonderful time in Ogden. I was engaged to be married at one time but something went wrong and it was all off, and I decided never to marry. My brother came down and brought me home. I stayed home just a little while. While I was home I met Nels Peterson, a violin player. Then I went to Evanston to work, but I wrote to this friend all the time. I worked there six months then I came back home. The next witner on the third of December, 1878 Nels and I were married. We lived in Richville that winter. That winter I spun yarn, wove the cloth and made my husband the first overcoat he ever had. The next year, 1879, we moved to Preston, Idaho, and took up land. There we were pioneers of Preston. I used to be at home alone the whole week, never seeing a soul. The men were in the hills working on a canal. I used to sit and cry by the hour. I believe tears is what saved me from going crazy. The first winter my husband played and called for dances for seventy-five cents a night, so we could have a little to live on. Talk about hard times. We sure had them there. My husband came to Richville for ten weeks that summer, and I stayed there all alone with my little baby, Lee. I used to go three miles to hunt my cows, and when I came home I would spread my skirt out and lay my baby on it while I milked. Three years later I had another baby, May. I still was hunting cows. We lived there six years and proved up on our land. We moved back to Morgan County and bought a place in Richville. It was still hard times and I don't know how we would have lived if it hadn't been for the violin sometimes. For sometimes my husband would play every night of the week all over the county. We sold our place in Preston, and that helped to buy what we bought here. We now had three children old enough to go to school. There was no road to Richville, and they wouldn't allow us to send them to Morgan school, so we moved again. We traded our place in Richville for one in Milton. We had twin girls a year old when we moved down here. We lived quite near both school and church house so all of us could take part in everything that was going on. I was working in Sunday School, Relief Society, and Mutual all at the same time, so you can tell I was busy. I had eight children now. The oldest was big enough to help out, and took part in both Sunday School and Primary. I have worked in Relief Society since 1891 and am still working. (1934) I not only work in church but am weaving and have all the work I can do and am making good. When the world war was declared in 1914 my youngest son had to go. Then we had a different work to do. I knitted fifty one pairs of socks for the soldiers and I have forgotten how many sweaters. We also went without sugar and ate course bread. But all the boys from our home town came home without a scratch. My children all married and we were left alone just like we started out. We were still busy working in the church as my husband was choir leader for all meetings for twenty eight years. It made it a little better for him as our own girls were organists and he was sure of someone to play the organ. It is said he had the most wonderful choir that was ever in Milton. I was busy as I was a class leader in Relief Society and a teacher in Sunday School. We lived very happy for six years in our new home, then my husband passed away and I wes left alone. My youngest son and his wife came to live with me. I am quite well and am getting along fine for I have some of the most wonderful children in the world. I have found life is made up of little things; of sorrow and joy, trials, pain, and pleasure. I have tried to treat others as I would like to be treated, and to give service wherever it has been needed. It has not been a hardship but a pleasure. Today I feel that I haven't any enemy in the world, if I have I don't know it. "It is my joy in life to find At every turning of the road The strong arms of a comrade, kind, To help me onward with my load. And since I have no gold to give, And Love alone must make amends, My only prayer is' "While I live God make me worthy of my firends." In July 1934, my daughter Bertha and her son took me on a trip through Yellowstone National Park and parts of Montana. We left home one morning at 7 A.M. driving through Idaho and arriving in the park in the afternoon. We drove to Old Faithful and stayed there in a couple of cabins for the night. We watched Old Faithful "spout" a couple of times before and after dark. A spot light was turned on the "Old Geyser", which to me was very beautiful. We also watched them feed the bears, listened to the lectures they gave and also saw the pictures they showed. I enjoyed my trip very much. We visited many beautiful places while on my trip. I visited Big Falls that Lewis and Clark discovered on their expedition when they had to carry their canoe about six miles around to get above the Falls. There is a monument built up there to them. I visted the airport in Montana and had an airplane ride, which I enjoyed very much. I have always been very industrious, weaving carpets, making all kinds of fancy quilts, silk quilts, and patch quilts, which I have sold to help out. I am now 84 years old and enjoying good health. Mrs. Matilda Peterson is still living. She was 97 years old on the 23rd of October 1952. She is the only remaining original Pioneer of Morgan County. She has a wonderful memory, is clear in mind and very interesting to talk with. She still sits by the window and reads and crochets, with the aid of her store glasses, and tells wonderful stories of days gone by. Bessie P. Brough Morgan County Historian.