Story of Pioneer Days – Part I
Bertha Marie Eccles
By Mrs. David Eccles
Note: A pioneer of 1867, who crossed the plains by ox team, Mrs. David Eccles, widow of one of the great industrial leaders of the west, today (1934) tells of her journey to Utah and subsequent events in the development of Ogden.
I was born in Aarhus[e], Denmark, January 30, 1857. My father was Christian Jensen and I was named Bertha Marie. My own mother died when I was only two years old and I was reared by my step-mother, Karen Jensen, who lived to be 94 years old. She died about 1918. My father died in 1875 at the age of 57.
Early in June 1867 my parents, my little sister Mary, then about two years old, and myself left Denmark for America. From Liverpool we sailed on the steamship Manhattan. This was the first time that a large party of Mormon emigrants had used a steamer to cross the Atlantic.
My father was a well-to-do landowner in Denmark and he aided twenty-one other persons to get to Utah. Some he helped for the entire distance and some for at least a part of the journey.
On the journey across the ocean we travelled in the steerage . . . about 400 (blurred type on the transcript makes it difficult to read if the number is 400 or 4000) English emigrant converts joined us at Liverpool. Unlike most the early day emigrants who required many weeks on the ocean, we had a rapid trip requiring only 13 days.
There were only about two days of rough sea, the rest of the time being pleasant. I recall that one stormy morning I awoke unable to find my clothing and shoes. The pitching of the ship had tossed my apparel out of the bunks and down the aisles and I had to recover my belonging from a heap of clothing piled at one end of our quarters.
I saw a funeral at sea when a child died and was lowered over the ship’s side.
We arrived in New York Harbor on July 4, 1867. The cannons were booming and the usual celebration was in progress. The following day, after we had been examined and released from quarantine, we went ashore at old Castle Garden. There I tasted my first American pie. It was cherry and full of seeds. Like Edward Bok who has written of his early American experiences, my first impression was that there were more stones than fruit.
Next we embarked on a river steamer and journeyed up the Hudson to Albany. Our first ride in this new country was very enjoyable. All day and as long as light lasted, my father and I stood out on deck watching the beautiful scenery and marveling at the fine homes and gardens in the pleasant green valleys along the river.
From Albany we traveled to Buffalo, N.Y. and there we ‘camped’ in a large warehouse. The immensity of the building impressed me and I thought it was a queer way to camp; all the families in one big room. There I suffered a great disappointment. Most of the older persons went to Niagara, a short distance away, to see the falls, and being only 10 I had to go to bed early. I cried bitterly. It was many, many years later, in 1893, when I was on a trip back to Europe with Mr. Eccles, at the time of the Chicago World’s Fair, that I had a chance to see Niagara Falls.
Next we took a train to St. Joseph, Missouri, and from there we went by river steamer up the Missouri to Council Bluffs. There father bought his, and helped other purchase theirs. There were several returning missionaries in our party.
The Union Pacific railway at that time had built as far west as North Platte, Nebraska, and father learned that for $10 fare each we could ride from Omaha to the end of the line and wait there for the wagons to arrive.
The railroad equipment was very poor at that time and I recall we sat on benches without backs. The cars, having no springs, rattled and jolted us over the newly-built roadway. I got tired and wished to sleep so I stretched out on the floor under the seats. I remember the conductor kicking my feet that had sprawled out into the aisle.
We had to wait three or four weeks at North Platte before our outfits arrived. There were about 600 or 700 persons in the emigrant train, in [charged] of Captain Leonard G. Rice. Our company was the first large independent company of converts to come to Utah. Up to this time the church had always sent wagons and teams and other assistance to companies crossing the plains, but this year no aid was forthcoming.
Father had a fine outfit of three wagons with four oxen yoked to each wagon. Father had never driven oxen in Denmark and he didn’t know anything about them, but soon learned. He had purchased a big Texas long-horned steer that frightened us at first.
Being new to the country father had been sold a brindle ox with no teeth. He did not know that the buyer should inspect the teeth. The ox was healthy but had a hard time to get sufficient food because he couldn’t graze the tough grass.
It fell to my lot to care for the ox. Father bought a quantity of damaged flour from an army post and mother baked this into bread for the ox. Whenever we passed green herbs or weeds, I gathered as much as I could and a few times we passed little patches of volunteer corn that had sprung up from a few kernels spilled when freighters had fed their teams the preceding year. I gathered these young corn stalks and thus got a little tender forage for the toothless ox. Every time the wagon train stopped it was part of my duty to feed the animal a piece of bread. Each evening we fed him at the wagon before turning him out with the others. In this way we got that ox to the Salt Lake valley in as good condition as any of the stock and he worked in the yoke every day but two when father hitched up a mil[ch] cow in his place.
Another job I had was the collecting of dried buffalo chips for fuel. We always had a sack of them hanging on the side of the wagon on the plains.
No buffalo were killed by our party but we did see a big herd coming toward us one day. We were fearful lest they stampede into our train and frighten the cattle, but just as the herd got within a few hundred yards of us, the leaders veered off to the east and pushed around our party.
The weather was good most of the time, and, as we had plenty of food, we did not suffer any particular hardships as many of the pioneers did. No Indians disturbed us.
I recall that one woman died during the journey. Another time one of the men was shot by accident by a rabbit hunter. We halted a day or two to attend to his wounds; but, after suffering for some time, he died and was buried along the trail. After that, the men were forbidden to do any hunting in the vicinity of the camp.
Whenever possible our camps were in grassy flats along streams or near springs. I always detested camping in those sticky, yellow weeds that infest much of the west.
At that time I had not learned the English language and consequently do not recall the names of all the places along the route.
I remember one time, when the wagon train was near a large mountain that looked as if it had been split, something broke on one of the wagons and the men halted to fix it. The women and girls walked on ahead expecting the wagons to come up soon.
We walked for a long time; and, as they day was hot, we got very thirsty. Soon we were out of sight of the wagon train and we could find no water. Then off in the distance we saw a group of tents and a man near a little ditch. We went over and made signs that we were thirty and he gave us some milk to drink.
One of the men there took a fancy to me, the only little girl in the group, and tried to get me to go with him over to a group of buildings nearby. Finally, my father and some other men came riding up on horses searching for us. I was glad to see my father. The man still wanted me to go with him, so father nodded that it was all right and the stranger took me by the hand. Just as we got near the buildings, I could see soldiers drilling in a courtyard of the garrison and I was frightened. I remembered the war between Germany and Denmark and the coming of the soldiers in 1866. When we were almost to the fort I pulled my hand away quickly and ran back to my father. The man went on to the fort and came back in a moment laughing and presented me with a big bag of stick candy which he made me understand I was to divide with the others.
There were several cows with our livestock so we always had milk and butter along the way. We used to average about ten miles a day and I believe that I ran an extra five miles trying to gather feed for the toothless ox and buffalo chips for our evening fire.
Once I nearly stepped on a rattlesnake. A teamster yelled “Jump” and I jumped.
In the evenings the older people played games and danced to music, but I usually was busy helping my mother in camp and then I had to go to bed early.
We traveled up the Platte river, then up the Sweetwater and over South Pass, down to Fort Bridger and then through Echo canyon, and over the mountain to Emigration canyon and down to Salt Lake City, arriving there October 5, 1867, just at conference time.
Note: This history was copied from the Eccles family historical collection on file at the J. Willard Marriott Library in their Special Collections on the University of Utah Campus in Salt Lake City and at the Ogden Genealogical Library in Ogden.
Note: A pioneer of 1867, who crossed the plains by ox team, Mrs. David Eccles, widow of one of the great industrial leaders of the west, today (1934) tells of her journey to Utah and subsequent events in the development of Ogden.
I was born in Aarhus[e], Denmark, January 30, 1857. My father was Christian Jensen and I was named Bertha Marie. My own mother died when I was only two years old and I was reared by my step-mother, Karen Jensen, who lived to be 94 years old. She died about 1918. My father died in 1875 at the age of 57.
Early in June 1867 my parents, my little sister Mary, then about two years old, and myself left Denmark for America. From Liverpool we sailed on the steamship Manhattan. This was the first time that a large party of Mormon emigrants had used a steamer to cross the Atlantic.
My father was a well-to-do landowner in Denmark and he aided twenty-one other persons to get to Utah. Some he helped for the entire distance and some for at least a part of the journey.
On the journey across the ocean we travelled in the steerage . . . about 400 (blurred type on the transcript makes it difficult to read if the number is 400 or 4000) English emigrant converts joined us at Liverpool. Unlike most the early day emigrants who required many weeks on the ocean, we had a rapid trip requiring only 13 days.
There were only about two days of rough sea, the rest of the time being pleasant. I recall that one stormy morning I awoke unable to find my clothing and shoes. The pitching of the ship had tossed my apparel out of the bunks and down the aisles and I had to recover my belonging from a heap of clothing piled at one end of our quarters.
I saw a funeral at sea when a child died and was lowered over the ship’s side.
We arrived in New York Harbor on July 4, 1867. The cannons were booming and the usual celebration was in progress. The following day, after we had been examined and released from quarantine, we went ashore at old Castle Garden. There I tasted my first American pie. It was cherry and full of seeds. Like Edward Bok who has written of his early American experiences, my first impression was that there were more stones than fruit.
Next we embarked on a river steamer and journeyed up the Hudson to Albany. Our first ride in this new country was very enjoyable. All day and as long as light lasted, my father and I stood out on deck watching the beautiful scenery and marveling at the fine homes and gardens in the pleasant green valleys along the river.
From Albany we traveled to Buffalo, N.Y. and there we ‘camped’ in a large warehouse. The immensity of the building impressed me and I thought it was a queer way to camp; all the families in one big room. There I suffered a great disappointment. Most of the older persons went to Niagara, a short distance away, to see the falls, and being only 10 I had to go to bed early. I cried bitterly. It was many, many years later, in 1893, when I was on a trip back to Europe with Mr. Eccles, at the time of the Chicago World’s Fair, that I had a chance to see Niagara Falls.
Next we took a train to St. Joseph, Missouri, and from there we went by river steamer up the Missouri to Council Bluffs. There father bought his, and helped other purchase theirs. There were several returning missionaries in our party.
The Union Pacific railway at that time had built as far west as North Platte, Nebraska, and father learned that for $10 fare each we could ride from Omaha to the end of the line and wait there for the wagons to arrive.
The railroad equipment was very poor at that time and I recall we sat on benches without backs. The cars, having no springs, rattled and jolted us over the newly-built roadway. I got tired and wished to sleep so I stretched out on the floor under the seats. I remember the conductor kicking my feet that had sprawled out into the aisle.
We had to wait three or four weeks at North Platte before our outfits arrived. There were about 600 or 700 persons in the emigrant train, in [charged] of Captain Leonard G. Rice. Our company was the first large independent company of converts to come to Utah. Up to this time the church had always sent wagons and teams and other assistance to companies crossing the plains, but this year no aid was forthcoming.
Father had a fine outfit of three wagons with four oxen yoked to each wagon. Father had never driven oxen in Denmark and he didn’t know anything about them, but soon learned. He had purchased a big Texas long-horned steer that frightened us at first.
Being new to the country father had been sold a brindle ox with no teeth. He did not know that the buyer should inspect the teeth. The ox was healthy but had a hard time to get sufficient food because he couldn’t graze the tough grass.
It fell to my lot to care for the ox. Father bought a quantity of damaged flour from an army post and mother baked this into bread for the ox. Whenever we passed green herbs or weeds, I gathered as much as I could and a few times we passed little patches of volunteer corn that had sprung up from a few kernels spilled when freighters had fed their teams the preceding year. I gathered these young corn stalks and thus got a little tender forage for the toothless ox. Every time the wagon train stopped it was part of my duty to feed the animal a piece of bread. Each evening we fed him at the wagon before turning him out with the others. In this way we got that ox to the Salt Lake valley in as good condition as any of the stock and he worked in the yoke every day but two when father hitched up a mil[ch] cow in his place.
Another job I had was the collecting of dried buffalo chips for fuel. We always had a sack of them hanging on the side of the wagon on the plains.
No buffalo were killed by our party but we did see a big herd coming toward us one day. We were fearful lest they stampede into our train and frighten the cattle, but just as the herd got within a few hundred yards of us, the leaders veered off to the east and pushed around our party.
The weather was good most of the time, and, as we had plenty of food, we did not suffer any particular hardships as many of the pioneers did. No Indians disturbed us.
I recall that one woman died during the journey. Another time one of the men was shot by accident by a rabbit hunter. We halted a day or two to attend to his wounds; but, after suffering for some time, he died and was buried along the trail. After that, the men were forbidden to do any hunting in the vicinity of the camp.
Whenever possible our camps were in grassy flats along streams or near springs. I always detested camping in those sticky, yellow weeds that infest much of the west.
At that time I had not learned the English language and consequently do not recall the names of all the places along the route.
I remember one time, when the wagon train was near a large mountain that looked as if it had been split, something broke on one of the wagons and the men halted to fix it. The women and girls walked on ahead expecting the wagons to come up soon.
We walked for a long time; and, as they day was hot, we got very thirsty. Soon we were out of sight of the wagon train and we could find no water. Then off in the distance we saw a group of tents and a man near a little ditch. We went over and made signs that we were thirty and he gave us some milk to drink.
One of the men there took a fancy to me, the only little girl in the group, and tried to get me to go with him over to a group of buildings nearby. Finally, my father and some other men came riding up on horses searching for us. I was glad to see my father. The man still wanted me to go with him, so father nodded that it was all right and the stranger took me by the hand. Just as we got near the buildings, I could see soldiers drilling in a courtyard of the garrison and I was frightened. I remembered the war between Germany and Denmark and the coming of the soldiers in 1866. When we were almost to the fort I pulled my hand away quickly and ran back to my father. The man went on to the fort and came back in a moment laughing and presented me with a big bag of stick candy which he made me understand I was to divide with the others.
There were several cows with our livestock so we always had milk and butter along the way. We used to average about ten miles a day and I believe that I ran an extra five miles trying to gather feed for the toothless ox and buffalo chips for our evening fire.
Once I nearly stepped on a rattlesnake. A teamster yelled “Jump” and I jumped.
In the evenings the older people played games and danced to music, but I usually was busy helping my mother in camp and then I had to go to bed early.
We traveled up the Platte river, then up the Sweetwater and over South Pass, down to Fort Bridger and then through Echo canyon, and over the mountain to Emigration canyon and down to Salt Lake City, arriving there October 5, 1867, just at conference time.
Note: This history was copied from the Eccles family historical collection on file at the J. Willard Marriott Library in their Special Collections on the University of Utah Campus in Salt Lake City and at the Ogden Genealogical Library in Ogden.
