Wilford and Phebe Woodruff Lose a Daughter

When Wilford Woodruff left his wife, Phebe, and his daughter, Sarah Emma, for his first mission to Great Britain in 1839, Phebe was pregnant. During his travels to England he dreamed about his wife. On 28 November 1839 he related:


"[I] had a dream while upon my bed. And in my dream I saw Mrs. Woodruff, and notwithstanding we rejoiced much having an interview with each other, yet our embraces were mixed with sorrow for after conversing a while about her domestic affairs I asked where Sarah Emma was, our only child. She [said] weeping and kissing me, 'She is dead.' We sorrowed a moment and [then] I awoke. Phebe also said she had not received my letters. Is this dream true? Time must determine."

Nearly a year later on 26 November 1840, Wilford received several letters from Nauvoo, one from Sister Margaret Smoot and another from his beloved Phebe -- his dream had indeed been a warning. He noted, "The letters from Phebe and Sister Smoot gave an account of the death and burial of our oldest child Sarah Emma, who died July 17, 1840, being two years and three days old."
Phebe wrote to Wilford on the day following Sarah Emma's death:

"My dear Wilford, what will be your feelings, when I say that yesterday I was called to witness the departure of our little Sarah Emma from this world? Yes, she is gone. The relentless hand of death has snatched her from my embrace. But Ah! She was too lovely, too kind, too affectionate to live in this wicked world. When looking on her I have often thought how I should feel to part with her, I thought I could not live without her, especially in the absence of my companion. But she has gone."

Phebe continued, "Yes, Wilford we have one little angel in heaven, and I think likely her spirit has visited you before this time." Her description of the last days and moments of Sarah Emma's life must have caused tears to well up in her lonely companion's eyes. "She used to call her poor papa and putty papa many times in a day. She left a kiss for her papa with me just before she died."

The walk to the cemetery was quite hard for the young mother. "She had no relative to follow her to the grave or to shed a tear for her," Phebe wrote Wilford, "only her Ma and little Wilford [a son born while Wilford was gone]."

(Holzapfel, _Women of Nauvoo_, pp. 75-76)

(Compiled and written by David Kenison, Orem, Utah, dkenison@xmission.com)

"Widow Smith" Arrives in the Salt Lake Valley

At the death of the patriarch [Hyrum Smith] the care of the family fell upon his widow, Mary [Fielding] Smith. Besides the children there were several helpless and infirm people, whom for various charitable reasons the patriarch had maintained; and these also she cared for, and brought through to the valley the major part of them, under unusually trying circumstances.
Passing over the incidents of her journey to winter quarters, after the expulsion from Nauvoo, we come at once to her heroic effort from winter quarters westward. In the spring of 1848 a tremendous effort was made by the saints to emigrate to the valley on a grand scale. No one was more anxious than Widow Smith; but to accomplish it seemed an impossibility, for although a portion of her household had emigrated in 1847, she still had a large and comparatively helpless family -- her sons John and Joseph, mere boys, being her only support. Without teams sufficient to draw the number of wagons necessary to haul provisions and outfit for the family, and without means to purchase, or friends who were in circumstances to assist, she determined to make the attempt, and trust in the Lord for the issue. Accordingly every nerve was strained, and every available object was brought into requisition. Cows and calves were yoked up, two wagons lashed together, and a team barely sufficient to draw one was hitched on to them, and in this manner they rolled out from winter quarters some time in May. After a series of the most amusing and trying circumstances, such as sticking in the mud, doubling teams up all the little hills, and crashing at ungovernable speed down the opposite sides, breaking wagon tongues and reaches, upsetting, and vainly endeavoring to control wild steers, heifers and unbroken cows, they finally succeeded in reaching the Elk Horn, where the companies were being organized for the plains.

Here Widow Smith reported herself to President Kimball as having "started for the valley." Meantime, she had left no stone unturned or problem untried, which promised assistance in effecting the necessary preparations for the journey. She had done her utmost, and still the way looked dark and impossible.

She was assigned to the Captain's fifty. The Captain was present. Said he:
"Widow Smith, how many wagons have you?"
"Seven."
"How many yoke of oxen have you?"
"Four," and so many cows and calves.
"Well," said the captain, "it is folly for you to start in this manner; you never can make the journey, and if you try it you will be a burden upon the company the whole way. My advice to you is, to go back to winter quarters and wait till you can get help."
"Widow Smith calmly replied, "Father ------" (he was an aged man), "I will beat you to the valley, and will ask no help from you either!"
This seemed to nettle the old gentleman, and it doubtless influenced his conduct towards her during the journey.

While lying at Elk Horn she sent back and succeeded in buying on credit, and hiring for the journey, several yoke of oxen from brethren who were not able to emigrate that year, and when the companies were ready to start she and her family were somewhat better prepared for the journey, and rolled out with lighter hearts and better prospects than favored their egress from winter quarters.
As they journeyed on the captain lost no opportunity to vent his spleen on the widow and her family; but she prayerfully maintained her integrity of purpose, and pushed vigorously on, despite several discouraging circumstances.

[During this journey, the famous incident of raising one of her oxen from apparent death by a priesthood blessing took place. See: http://earlymormonsaints.blogspot.com/2016/05/mary-fielding-smiths-oxen-are.html

On the 22d of September the company crossed over "Big Mountain," when they had the first glimpse of Salt Lake Valley. Every heart rejoiced, and with lingering fondness they gazed upon the goal of their wearisome journey. The descent of the western side of "Big Mountain" was precipitous and abrupt, and they were obliged to rough-lock the hind wheels of the wagons, and, as they were not needed, the forward cattle were turned loose to be driven to camp, the "wheelers" only being retained on the wagons. Desirous of shortening the next day's journey as much as possible, they drove on till a late hour in the night, and finally camped near the eastern foot of the "Little Mountain." During the night's drive several of Widow Smith's cows, that had been turned loose from the teams, were lost in the brush. Early the next morning her son John returned to hunt for them, their service in the teams being necessary to proceed.

At an earlier hour than usual the captain gave orders for the company to start, knowing well the circumstances of the widow, and that she would be obliged to remain until John returned with the lost cattle. Accordingly the company rolled out, leaving her and her family alone. Hours passed by ere John returned with the lost cattle, and the company could be seen toiling along far up the mountain. And to human ken it seemed probable that the widow's prediction would ingloriously fail. But as the company were nearing the summit of the mountain a cloud burst over their heads, sending down the rain in torrents, and throwing them into utter confusion. The cattle refused to pull, and to save the wagons from crashing down the mountain side, they were obliged to unhitch, and block the wheels. While the teamsters sought shelter, the storm drove the cattle in every direction, so that when it subsided it was a day's work to find them and get them together. Meantime, as noted, John had returned with the stray cattle, and they were hitched up, and the widow and family rolled up the mountain, passing the company and continuing on to the valley, where she arrived fully twenty hours in advance of the captain. And thus was her prophesy fulfilled.

She kept her husband's family together after her arrival in the valley, and her prosperity was unparalleled. At her death, which occurred September 21st, 1852, she left them comfortably provided for, and in possession of every educational endowment that the facilities of the times would permit.

(Edward Tullidge, _The Women of Mormondom_, 1877, pp. 344-49)

Compiled and written by David Kenison, Orem, Utah, dkenison@xmission.com)

Motherhood During the Pioneer Exodus

The great Mormon pioneer exodus began early in 1846, during winter conditions that caused considerable suffering for the Saints. Eliza R. Snow was among the number who departed during that time. One of the most-quoted statements from Sister Snow reflects on this period:


"We had been preceded [from Nauvoo] by thousands, and I was informed that on the first night of the encampment, nine children were born into the world, and from that time, as we journeyed onward, mothers gave birth to offspring under almost every variety of circumstances imaginable, except those to which they had been accustomed; some in tents, others in wagons -- in rainstorms and in snowstorms. I heard of one birth which occurred under the rude shelter of a hut, the sides of which were formed of blankets fastened to poles stuck in the ground, with a bark roof through which the rain was dripping. Kind sisters stood holding dishes to catch the water as it fell, thus protecting the newcomer and its mother from a showerbath as the little innocent first entered on the stage of human life; and through faith in the Great Ruler of events, no harm resulted to either.

"Let it be remembered that the mothers of these wilderness-born babies were not savages, accustomed to roam the forest and brave the storm and tempest -- those who had never known the comforts and delicacies of civilization and refinement. They were not those who, in the wilds of nature, nursed their offspring amid reeds and rushes, or in the recesses of rocky caverns; most of them were born and educated in the eastern states -- had there embraced the gospel as taught by Jesus and his apostles, and, for the sake of their religion, had gathered with the saints, and under trying circumstances had assisted, by their faith, patience and energies, in making Nauvoo what its name indicates, 'the Beautiful.' There they had lovely homes, decorated with flowers and enriched with choice fruit trees, just beginning to yield plentifully.

"To these homes, without lease or sale, they had just bade a final adieu, and with what little of their substance could be packed into one, two, and in some instances, three wagons, had started out, desert-ward, for -- where? To this question the only response at that time was, God knows." (See Tullidge, _The Women of Mormondom_, p. 307)

Carol Lynn Pearson, well-known LDS poetess, wrote an article in _BYU Studies_ (21:4) about the episode and tells of finding a statement of a midwife, Jane Johnston, who personally delivered nine babies on the first night in September when the so-called "poor camp" was camping across from Nauvoo. Conditions during this exodus were much different than the one seven months earlier. The Saints who had remained in Nauvoo during 1846 were mostly those who could not afford to outfit themselves for the exodus (hence the name "poor camp"), or those whose health or other conditions prevented them from traveling. But when the mobs came to Nauvoo in September 1846, they cruelly drove all the Saints from their homes regardless of condition. The account of Jane Johnston, describing conditions across the Mississippi from Nauvoo, reads:


"Had nothing to eat only half a bushel of meal and half a dozen cucumbers that were given to me by Martin Littlewood. There were a great many sick among the Saints and nothing to comfort them, and nourish them, but corn meal, until the Lord sent quails amongst us, which supplied our wants.
"I then got a tent from Brother Johnston and had women that were being delivered of child put in it. I was the mid-wife, and delivered nine babies that night. We had nothing to sweeten anything until the Lord sent honey dew, which we gathered from the bushes until we got all the sweets we wanted. I also boiled maple juice and got cakes of maple sugar." (From the diary of Joseph Smith Black, BYU Special Collections; quotes in Pearson, op. cit.)

It seems much more likely that the events Eliza described occurred during this time, and the midwife's account supports this idea. Eliza mentions that she "was informed" that the nine births occurred on that first night, but she (or her informant) probably confused the date.

However, the poignancy and tenderness of Eliza Snow's description still touches the heart. The suffering of these mothers is beyond our conception, and is a tribute both to their faith in God and to their patient commitment to what they viewed to be a divine cause.

Compiled and Written by Dave Kenison