EPHRAIM ROBISON Hand Cart Company PIONEER OF AUGUST 27th, 1860 CAME TO MORGAN COUNTY IN 1864 HIS OWN HISTORY WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. January 1922. Ogden, February 1922 I dedicate this to my family and all who wish to read it, I, Ephraim Robison of Ogden, Utah. I will try and relate to you a little of my experience of early days in this country and the Hand Cart Company of 1860. I left home in Franklin County, Pennsylvania, in company with my fathers family. I was 16 years of age at that time. We left home the 7th of May 1860 and traveled by rail and water a distance of 2000 miles. We landed on the Missouri River at a place called Florence. We camped there about two weeks, while arrangements were being made for the Hand Cart Company. When all was ready the outfit conisted of 240 people old and young. There were 40 carts, 10 tents, 36 oxen, 6 wagons, when all was called to line up. The 6 teams were first in the lead and the carts in the rear. Those carts were painted up beautifully with boughs over the top and covered with heavy canvas. The tongue of the cart had a cross piece mortested in the end about two and one half feet long so as to allow two persons to stand on either side of the tongue leaning there bodies against this cross piece. We called it pushing instead of pulling. Some of the carts had from four to seven to a cart old and young. It was common to see young girls rangeing from 16 to 20 years have a harness fixed on their shoulders in the shape of a halter and a small chain fastened to that or a rope and that running back and fastened to the end of the tongue. Some¬times three to four and five to a cart some pulling and some pushing drudging along all day in the hot sand and sun. You girls now-a-days, how would you like that for a change? And hardly enough to eat to keep soul and body alive. My brother Daniel was appointed captain of the Company. He took great pains in avoiding any disturbance that might arise. He was well thought of and liked by all. We also had what we called a grumbler. If any disturbance arose the grumbler was called. He could make more noise than ten mad geese and soon their grievience was settled and they went their way. Very often at night twenty or thirty or more would form a circle, offer up prayer then sing hymns and songs. They seemed just as happy as though they were in New York with a million dollars in their pockets. The wagons were not so heavy loaded but what there was always room for the lame, sick and lazy which was the case very often. Chuck full to the top I worked on a cart with one of my brother-in-law and sister. They had four children which made seven in all. Provisions were weighted out to us all through the camp once a week. This we had to haul in the cart besides our bedding, cooking utensils and most of the time our children which was the case in most of the carts. The poor little fellows feet would get sore and tired, and couldn't stand the walk. I tell you this seemed hard for their poor mothers to endure, leading those child¬ren by the hand and bare-footed themselves. Some had canteens of water hanging on the side of their carts and by noon it was hot enough for the women to make tea. Once in a while along side of the road we would notice a low boggy place where they might be water. Spades and shovels were soon made use of in hopes of finding water. After digging two or three feet water was struck, many of them waiting their turn to come to get a cup. The water was the color of rain water caused by alkali. Some were afraid to drink it, others would holler out "drink it, its wet". In those days the women wore long aprons such as some of the old ladies wear now-a-days. When nearing a camp ground some of the women would go on both sides of the road sometimes perhaps a half mile to gather in their aprons what is called buffalo chips to make the fires. About the time we reached a camp ground those poor women would come drudging in to camp with the chips. Wood was out of the question. For hundreds of miles you couldn't find a stick the size of a riding whip. The chips were set a fire with dry grass, when about ready to do cooking there was more smoke than fire. The bread turned yellow, it looked as though it had been dropped in soda. It gave the bread such a flavor we could hardly swallow it. We pushed it down and was just as happy as if we had a twenty dollar Xmas cake. Ha! Ha. At night as soon as we reached a camp ground the wagons and carts were immediately brought into a circle being a space of about ten or twelve feet open. This was used for a corral for the oxen. As soon as this was done the oxen, their yokes taken off, two men were ordered to drive them to feed. Perhaps a half mile or a mile. Sometimes the feed was very scarce owing to so many immigrants going to all parts of the country which made feed in places very scarce. At 12 o'clock at night two men were sent out to release the other two. In the morning as soon as the cattle could be brought in and put in the corral each teamster yoked up his team and put them to the tongue, by that time break¬fast was about over then all was ordered to line up for another hot day through the sand and hot sun. One old man, I should judge him to be about 65 or 70 years old. As regular as morning came he would take his cane and go all around camp picking up bits of bread and whatever he could pick up in the eating line, that the children might have dropped and put it in his pocket. His head was as white as snow. He lived through it all and at that at the end of his journey he was the same old man. There were many in our outfit, this old man was a Scotchman. We saw a few buffalo on our way but our guns were of the old type they wouldn't kill if they hit. We also met a few bands of Indians. They took a good look at us and went their way. I guess they thought we looked about as bad as they did or worse and had no use for us. One man had his cart full to the top of junk and children and the load got over balanced, the tongue flew up and down went the hind end children scream¬ing and crawling over each other. Mouth and eyes full of sand. The man was an Englishman he came back to see what was the matter, he had a big laugh and said "I have raised ell, I ham shure sorry". There was a man appointed to weigh the rashions out of the commissary wagons his name was Fosket. He had no family except his wife. They both had the privilege of riding. One day I was not feeling well and had no appetite. Fruit those days was dried and boxed or sacked. There was no canned fruit what¬ever. I asked this man to give me a little dried fruit or something for a change that I was sick and had no appetite. He answered me like he would a dog. I have nothing for you. Those things are expressly for sick folks. He pre¬tended to be very religious, nothing but Zion every day. When he got to Zion he was turned out of the commissary business and had to go to work, he could no longer feed off the church. The last I heard of him he had apostitized and joined the Morisites. I would have been glad to have met him once more after we reached Zion I would have reminded him of the dried fruit. He was cross¬eyed. I would sure have straightened his eyes for him. One man by the name of Shadrick we crossed the plains when a small boy with his father, going to California. He claimed he remembered all about the route and camping places. On those grounds the church hired him and gave him a pony to ride. He knew about as much as a man that never saw the plains. He was afraid to go out of our sight for fear he might see an Indian or a wild-cat. Several times when night came on we were obliged to camp without water. Wasn't that fine for those poor mothers, after draging at a cart all day? Weak and tired to hear those poor children all through camp crying for water and some¬thing to eat, and the next morning to find water within a mile or two. How would you women now-a-days like that for an all night picture show? One day I wasn't feeling the best, I was about half sick and had the blues very bad. I let loose of my cart and dropped out to one side and let the train go on. I laid down on a little Knoll close by resting my head on my hand and elbow watching those dear little carts away in the distance moving along like sheep one behind the other. At that time many thoughts run through me. Why is it that we left a good country, good homes, and now facing the tortures and hardships we are enduring now. I was tired ragged barefooted, the blood oozing out of my feet. Like many more of the outfit my feet looked like a blacksmith had been at them with a rasp, caused by alkali wind and sand. A thought struck me like this: If we are to die, why not the Indians drop on to us, kill us all and be done with it. At that I heard a slight noise, turning my head about one rod from me there stood a panther ready to spring on me. His eyes glaring and looked like balls of fire. I gave one scream and like a flash he was out of my sight, I believe I scared him worse than he did me. Killing left my mind and I at once took to my heels and after the carts I went. Regardless of sore feet. In the distance ahead of me I saw a man coming. At first I took it to be an Indian. It was my oldest brother. He was quite angry at first at me staying so far behind. I show¬ed him my feet then he felt quite,different about that thime we sighted the Black Hills, another five hundred miles of hard struggle. I looked back leaving those dreaded plains behind us never to be trod by me again. When we struck Sweet Water we had all the fish we could take care of. The bottom seemed to be covered with fish. They tasted quite different from the old Salty bacon we had been eating up to that time. When we landed at Green River all was taken across on a ferry boat except the oxen. They had to swim. We camped for the night. We expected some pro¬visions by the time we got there but we failed. We ate a little supper and next morning we scarcely had anything for breakfast. At that place the road forked. We took the right hand road on the North. Soon an old lady staggered from her cart and fell. She was at once picked up and put into a wagon. Soon after a man fell from his cart and fainted. He was put in a wagon. We traveled that day about twenty five miles to a creek. We camped for the night hardly a bite to eat. Sometime in the night two teams drove up loaded with flour and bacon. Sent out from Salt Lake to meet us. They missed us they took the lower road to the south got to Green River about sun set. They fed their teams then followed us, got to our camp sometime in the night. We had one death on the way a small boy six years old. That was all we lost on the trip. We reached the end of our journey August 27th. I walked and worked every step of the way and at the end of our journey I was fat, ragged, barefooted and dirty. I felt as happy as though I had run a nail in my shoe, into my foot. We camped two days on the Weber River at a place called Henefer near the mouth of Echo Canyon. There was only one family lived there at that time. The man's name was Henefer, the place went by that name every since. He donated for the Company 5 bushels of spuds providing we would dig them. Sure we did and some of us went fishing, my first catch was a trout, I felt my fishing tackle and hurried to camp to show them the fish. One says sure lets weigh it so they did it weighed exactly five pounds. That excited the camp and in no time half of the camp was out fishing and while camping there two days we had all the spuds and fish we could eat. I tell you that tasted different to salt bacon. We had another hard struggle over the mountains to our last camping ground to Salt Lake in hopes of seeing the wonders of the world. Yes we did, we saw Salt Lake in the far distance and that was all. We had a promise before we left home that when we reached Zion's camp everything would be in readiness all prepared for a camp meeting. Even the brass band was to be there, and all the big guns and talk to us with such great power. Such as we never heard before in our lives. All in honor of the Hand Cart Company. Yes, on our arrival on the camp ground we saw nothing except those that came with teams from all over the country to take back with them their relatives and friends that came through with the Hand Cart Company. Everything we used on the trip belonged to the church. Wagons, Carts, tents and oxen were all taken away leaving many of us standing in the hot rays of the sun, no relatives, not a friend, no nothing. We were poorly clad, bare¬footed and worn out. No one came to visit us, well I couldn't blame them for that, we were to hard looking to be noticed. How would the young people of today like that for a summer vacation? Some of us made up our minds to go to Farmington a distance of 20 miles. Some walked, some by chance got a ride on empty wagons going that way. On arriving there we found matters not much better. I and my brother-in-law rented a small doby house, one room, one small window and a small fire place in the one side of the room, about three and one-half feet wide, one old home-made table. We found no work to speak of, the farmers had gathered in their crops and were busy hauling wood for winter. Coal was out of the question these days. We fixed up a little shack as best we could. We built what we called a bunk in the one side of the room of small willows and straw. We made our beds out of old quilts and truck that was left. All were about wore out using them crossing the plains. My brother-in-law and sister like many more sent their bedding and wearing apparel with a church train, leaving Florence about the same time as we did. They were to receive them on arriving in Salt Lake. My brother-in-law made several trips to Salt Lake, but no one seemed to know anything about them and that was the end of the bedding and clothing. So that put us short for bedding and clothing and a cold, hard, snowy winter. Many a night we would get up and stir the fire in the little fire place and sit on boxes and put what bedding and rags we had on the children. We couldn't get a days work anywhere. The neighbors knew our wants and hardships and once in a while they would bring us a little flour. They would bring small potatoes we had plenty of them to subsist on, most of the time we lived on boiled potatoes with the jackets on and salt. To keep us in wood during the winter a man by the name of Meriot gave us a yoke of oxen to work on shares we gave him half of the wood we hauled. We would go to the head of Farmington canyon, a distance of 5 miles, the snow was deep in the mountains, for breakfast we had foiled spuds and salt, we stood up to eat as there were no chairs. On going to the Canyon for wood we would fill our pockets with small potatoes and salt for our lunch. Talk about hard times you young people of today have never seen hard times and it is hoped you never shall. My father and mother left Florence about the same time the Hand Carts did and a man, Green by name, got my father to drive a team for him, he was a merchant from Salt Lake and had quite a lot of teams. He told father he would furnish him and mother all the way through and give him a gentle team, two yoke of oxen, which he did. When arriving in Salt Lake he took father and mother to his home, he gave them a furnished room and all the necessaries of life any one could wish for. All my father had to do was to take care of the team. They were treated good all the while. In the coming of the spring of 61 they came to Farmington. I joined them there, we rented a house, we worked and saved our earning over and above our living. All was trade at that time. Whatever we worked at was either store pay or grain, not a cent of money did we get, not as much could we get as a two cent stamp. When gathered enough means to buy with, we bought a small rack and in 64 we took our oxen and cart put what junk we had in the rach and mother rode on top. I and father walked and-rove the oxen to what is now called North Morgan. A distance of 25 miles. My oldest brother moved to tha place in 1862. He was the first settler in that place. He was widower, he married Elizabeth Simmons, she was a widow Her husband was accidently shot and killed by one of his own party in 185 in Echo Canyon while defending his rights in Company 12 of 1250 men. At the time of Johnson's Army disturbances in 1857. He left her with 5 children. My wife their oldest daughter, was the first young girl to settle in that place along with her parents. As above stated in 1862. I helped to build the second log cabin in that place. Our first cabins were built very shabby, there was not saw mills where with to get lumber, we covered the first shanties with small poles, willows, and what we called wheat grass. The chimneys were built of rock and one small window cut in the side and no glass in that. No lumber for a door, nor floor, we lived on a ground floor and dirt would gather, then we would take it out with a shovel. To gather the dirt we would tie a bunch of fine willows together and use that for a broom. For a door we would hang up an old quilt or a piece of old of carpet. Build bunks out of poles to sleep on, for chairs we would split blocks of wood and bore holes in the lower part and put round sticks in for legs. In a rain storm what was a very rare thing in those days when it rained we were about as well off outside as in, the rain seemed to fill through the roof in chunks. There seemed to be more water inside than out. How would you young people now a days like that instead of a picture show. As soon as possible there was a saw mill built and old fashioned up and down saw. It could saw out from three to five hundred feet of lumber a day. The lumber was sawed out of cotten wood logs, as soon as it was sawed the hot sun would warp it. Then it would crawl like a snake and there was danger of it pulling the mill down. Soon we had better houses all built of logs and chimneys and fire places, those days there were no stoves not one family out of ten had a stove. All burned wood as there was no coal. There were not lights except a tallow candle. Not even coal oil. Those days you couldn't buy not even an already made shirt. All dry goods was sold by the yard, our mothers would sit up at night from nine to twelve sewing and making clothes for the family, all done with their fingers as there was no sewing machine. They would sew by the light of the fire place or a tallow candle or put some grease in a tin plate and twist a rag and lay it in the grease. Make all the clothes for the family beside doing their daily work. Cooking, scrubbing, washing dishes, washing on the wash board, do all the work through the house, milk the cows, take care of the milk, make the butter, perhaps all small children, no one to help her. Work hard and live a hard life. How about the mothers now days and the young folks? Picture shows, car riding, dances, card parties, all kinds of other sport to numerous to mention, who prepared those happy days for them? Those good times for them? Their fathers and mothers, that have dug and slaved and labored and toiled almost day and night, what for, to prepare better days and better times for their children. Do they respect and thank them for it? Not many of them. Those days there was no machinery to help the farmer, we would cut our grain with a cradel mow our hay with a sythe, swing the cradle from morning till night in the hot sun. The same cuting the hay with the sythe. It was common to see women and girls in the field taking care of the crops, no power these days only man power. While all this is being done the teams could stand idle in the stable till the crop was ready to haul. The first grain that was thrashed in Morgan was trampled out with oxen on a clay floor. A man would stand in the center of the floor driving the oxen around till it was all tired out then the straw was shaken with forks and put to one side, the chaff and wheat was put on a pile waiting for a wind so that could be sep¬arated. Wind mills was out of the question, our nearest flour mill was Kaysville or Farmington. Winter came on before we could get ready to go to the mill. The snow fell very deep and the road in Weber canyon got blocked with snow slides that it was impossible to travel. Many of us lived on boiled wheat for months. In those days there were no stores in Morgan County for sometime. Groceries and canned goods were out of the question. The fruit we had was indian fruit. Sarvesberries and wild currants. No sugar, our mothers once in a while would bake us a currant pie, one pie would last a family a week. One small slice to a person was plenty. It was so damn sour it would turn our faces crooked and tears run down our backs. It was common those days for the mothers to put the children to bed while they washed and dried their clothes, because they didn't have the second suit to put on. Stay up all night to dry the clothes at the fire place so they could have them the next morning. To do this they would drink plenty of home made coffee to keep them awake. Our coffee those days was wheat barley and peas roasted then put in a rag and taken to the fire hearth and pounded with a hammer until it was fine enough for use. There were not coffee mills to be had, matches were very scarce, as a rule people would, on going to bed, cover the coals up with ashes in the fire place so as to have fire the next morning without using any matches. Those that neglected doing it would go to their neighbors and get fire and carry it home on a shovel, this may sound fishey to young people now a days, but they are facts. For a little amusement in the winter we would have a dance in private homes, we had no dance hall. Our rooms were small and by taking everything out of the room we could manage to dance one set of old fashioned quadrille. Our lights was a piece of board with a hole bored in it and a tallow candle Perhaps 5 or 6 fastened to the wall. Our music was one violin, and a triangle to hear that you would think some one was filing a saw. Very often we would dance to daylight. We enjoyed it just as much as if we had been to the finest dance in the world. Considering the hardships we endured, we kept well and healthy and hearty. Able to eat our rations at any time. No sickness to speak of. Finely the doctors began to slide in on us and people began to get sick, and they been sick every since. In the year 1877 I went to a place called Dry Creek. I lived there till the spring of 1916. 39 years at that place. I then moved to Ogden and have resided there every since. While living at Dry Creek, Croyden, I had a small ranch, 8 children in the family. We raised stock, milked a number of cows, fed pigs and raised chickens. Game was plentiful, I used to go out many a time of a morning and bring in a deer before breakfast. I was fond of hunting and trapping beaver was plenty. I trapped many of them, as a rule I would get five dollars a hide for them. I am safe in saying that I killed more deer than any man in Morgan County. I shipped many of them to Ogden, Salt Lake, Park City. I killed one out of season and gave it to a friend of mine. I was fined $80. in the Morgan County court. In those days, bear was plentiful, I killed qyite a few. I also killed a number of mountain sheep. The gun I used is a 40.70 caliber Ballard Rifle single shot. It has killed hundreds upon hundreds of deer, besides much other game and today it is as good as it was in 1880. The Union Pacific rail road was built in 1868 and 69 and money matters began to get better. Trade was done away with. Man power on the farms was done away with, machinery took its place. I was told that Brigham Young made the remarks on the Stand that all those who pulled a Hand Cart across the plains would get a through ticket to Heaven. It is hoped his sayings won't fail and we get those tickets for we sure dearly earned them. I will close wishing you all a happy voyage and prosperity through life. What I have written is part of what I have seen and went through from the year 1860 to 1922. As ever yours respectfully, Ephraim Robison, 3037 Wall Avenue Ogden, Utah.