My Handcart Ancestor and Her Traveling Companion

 he evidence is pretty solid that our Elinor* (1789-1861) was the traveling companion of Mary Taylor Mayo (1791-1856) in their travels to America and on the Pioneer Trail. Mary is the one who died just short of South Pass on the Overland Trail. She died September 13, 1856, in Nebraska Territory and was buried in Oregon Territory when the Ellsworth Handcart Company stopped for the night at Pacific Springs.

There are two contemporaneous lists of the members of Ellsworth's Company that departed Iowa City on June 2, 1856. Neither one is in alphabetical order. The people are generally grouped by families. Interestingly, Elinor is not grouped with her daughter, Jane Vaughan Lewis (1827-1890) and her family. They travelled from Britain to the United States in different ships within weeks of each other. However, Elinor and Mary Mayo are listed together on both lists.

Welsh Pioneers to Zion

Sometimes the right book just drops in your lap at the right time. Well, I had to order it and going directly to the publisher rather than wait for Amazon got it too me a little quicker.

Welsh Saints on the Mormon Trail: The Story of the Welsh Emigration to Salt Lake City During the Nineteenth Century, by Wil Aaron, published in Wales by Y Lolfa is another book I don't have to write because it is better than what I could do. It has already been an aid to me in my current position as a part-time service missionary in the Church History Library (CHL) of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the Church).  Whew! The author is not a member of the Church and is not compelled to the full typing requirements of the name. (I recently was making deliveries in the library and a worker unknown to me commented on a book I had with "Mormonism" in the title. She asked rhetorically and matter-of-factly, "We're never going to get rid of that name, are we?")

It is a highly entertaining read as the writer is a producer of music and television programs in Wales. He has the academic credentials as a professor of Music at Bangor University where I have delved into the archives on family history quests. And it's one of the best general histories of the Pioneer Trail and the settlement of the American West as its chapters are divided by years from 1847 to 1868, the range of the Mormon Pioneer Trail. Told by an outsider to the Church and the the American Experience, it presents a fresh vista of the story in a very accessible format.

Water-fall 3: Never Too Much of a Good Thing

We did it again!

It was a slightly different hike yesterday as we went up the North Trail. That's how I first got to know the canyon and trying it again I remembered why I switched to the south side.

The first half mile is a killer up the exposed hills. It has it's advantages of great views and avoids the rock scramble of the canyon mouth on the South. And if you do try it, avoid when the summer sun is shining! We were fortunately up there before the sun cleared the Wasatch.

Mountain Men: Ya Can't Live with 'em; Ya Can't Live without 'em

The Wyoming State Historical Preservation Office (WSHPO, pronounced "Wyoming Shipo") and historians with the LDS Church interpreting the Devil's Gate/Martin's Cove area on the Overland Trail in Wyoming, have established that it was Charles (1812-1865), not his brother Basil LeJeunesse (1814-1846), who was known as "Seminoe" and established the fort at Devil's Gate.

These brothers were amazing as most Mountain Men were. They all knew each other; Basil traveling with Kit Carson and John C. Fremont's mapping expeditions. Basil was killed by Modocs at Klamath Lake. Charles abandoned his post at Devil's Gate in 1855 due to troubles with the Cheyennes. Cheyennes killed Charles in 1865 at Clark's Fork, Yellowstone. His half-Shoshone sons took their vengence by killing Cheyenne Chief, High Backed Wolf.

Generally aware of the Handcart stories, I knew there was a ramshackle trading post at Devil's Gate that served as a shelter in the miserable winter of 1856-57 for those guarding the freight emptied from the wagons to carry some of the handcart pioneers of the Willie and Martin companies to Salt Lake City. In the past couple of years, I also became aware that the earlier and more successful handcart companies of that year took the Seminoe Cutoff. It was only two weeks ago that I managed to put the two together to understand it was this "Seminoe" guy who explored the cutoff that saved some trouble for my handcart ancestors and had established the fort/trading post at Devil's Gate.

A portion of the archeological site with the reconstructed fort right next to it. And Devil's Gate behind.

Looking up the Sweetwater Valley from the original site of Seminoe's Fort. Martin's Cove is to the right.
Split Rock can be seen in the far distance.

Cymru, March 2018 XI, Merthyr's Satanic Mills and Talgarth's Witch's Pool

It really was a blessed day. Imagine what at week of Spring does to the Merthyr Tydfil Stake Center.

Merthyr's Daffodils were just a little beaten down by the blizzard.

Church was great. They were on a theme of Palm Sunday. The Bishop announced the annual sing-fest with the Dowlais Men's Choir on Good Friday. Whoa! My plans changed so I could be there.

After church, I had a sandwich and some snacks with me. I wanted to find the remnants of the old iron forges that were supposed to be just below the chapel. I found them right behind the chapel!

The evil Cafarthfa Ironworks remain a black slash across the landscape.

Arrival in the Valley, September 26, 1856

Failing to get a Rand McNally Map of Utah, I have not plotted these locations. The good news is that the Mormon Trail is followed by modern highway (for the most part). Take the side road down Echo Canyon and stay on it to Henefer. Turn left and go up and over to East Canyon, where the original trail is covered by the water of the reservoir (I went water-skiing there once and it just didn't feel quite right boating over a drowned pioneer trail). Then follow over to Little Mountain and Big Mountain where the original trail still exists just a ways to the south of the highway. Stop at the top of Big Mountain for the first views of the valley as this is the right place, and drive on down Emigration Canyon to This Is the Place Monument. The monument is free, it costs a bit to visit the pioneer village which is really cool, but you can get in for free if invited to special events like family reunions. The Heber C. Kimball Family Reunion is a hoot because you will run into people you never knew your wife is related to as there are thousands of his descendants. But the important thing is that Elinor Jenkins Vaughan (age 68 - approximate), Jane Vaughan Lewis (age 29), John Lewis (age 33), and John Samuel Lewis (age 8) made it! See the Ellswoth Company info here.  For earlier portions of the journey, see Iowa, Nebraska, and Wyoming segments.

And join in celebrating the entrance into the Valley of blessed, honored pioneers!

The first handcart company led by Captain Edmund Ellsworth, and including Elinor Jenkins Vaughan
 with her daughter's family, enters the Great Salt Lake Valley, Sept. 26, 1856
(LDS.org media library)

DAY 106

23^d
The camp rolled out at 12 P.M. and Travelled 18 miles[.] the road was pretty good. We forded the Weber[1] about 1 P.M. and had dinner in the Weber banks[.] camped about 30 past 6 P.M. Wood, water and feed plenty. We were visitted by a few Indians. (Galloway OTD).

T. 23^rd Came 21 mi and camped on E Kanyon Creek[2] (Oakley OTD).

They Made It Across Wyoming, 1856

First of all, I broke these segments into modern state lines based on the highway maps I have charted. I'm still old-fashioned in that way even if no one uses state highway maps anymore.

In 1856, the territorial boundaries were at the continental divide. Nebraska was on the eastern slope and Oregon on the western, at least down to the 42nd Parallel North, the present-day northern boundary of California, Nevada, and Utah. And in 1856, Utah Territory went east to the continental divide to include what is now southwestern Wyoming. Still, there's some satisfaction in beginning Wyoming at Fort Laramie and on west to Yellow Creek at the Needles before Cache Cave and Echo Canyon in Utah. Ft. Laramie works, because it was there. And Yellow Creek because, well, that's another family story.

The numbered days continue from Nebraska and began at Iowa City from the departure on 9 June 1856. The first date is the 24th of August 1856. [Galloway was off by a day].

The names that are not footnoted are explained in previous segments, Iowa and Nebraska.

DAY 76

23^rd Sun 24
The camp did not travell any to day[.] We were busey with the hand carts[.] At 6 P.M. We had a sacramental & saints meeting[.] a good time of it (Galloway OTD).

24 Sunday in camp all Day[.] an Indian visited us, we had a good meetting Partook of the Scarment some of the Brethen testified[.] Brothers France[,] Oakeley [John Oakley] & [William] Butler spoke[.] felt well and to thank my God for my Deliverance (Ham OTD).

Sun 24^th The 1^st Indian we have seen since leaving Florence came to our camp. Broke up an old waggon[.] Meeting in the eve[nin]g[.] Sacrament administered (Oakley OTD).

Sunday 24th Rested from travels but had to repair hand carts. Meeting at night. Received the Sacrament. Spoke at the meeting. Bro. Ellsworth spoke some time and said we had made great improvement; that the last week there had been less quarreling and those that had robbed the hand carts, or wagons, unless they repent their flesh would rot from their bones and go to Hell. (Walters OTD).

Across Present-Day Nebraska with Ellsworth, 1856

Whew, there's a lot of hard pushing and pulling through sand. As they said, the Platte River was too thick to drink and too wet to plow.

The day-count follows from the journey across Iowa. The diarists and others mentioned that are not footnoted in this section were back in the Iowa section of the trail.

Locations were much harder to plot when the modern maps have changed significantly with canals and irrigation beyond the 100th Meridian.

In 1856, Nebraska Territory went all the way to the Continental Divide. We'll save that for the Wyoming/Utah final segment of this map. 

In this portion the Mormon Pioneer and the Oregon/California Trail really were separate. The Oregon/California started (ironically) in Independence, Missouri and cut up to the Platte River where it followed the south bank all the way to Fort Caspar (Casper, Wyoming). The Mormon Trail cut west from Florence (Omaha), Nebraska and followed the north bank of the Platte with a detour up the Loup Fork cutting back south to the Platte then up the North Platte (all on the north bank) to Fort Caspar. Of course, some Mormons used the south bank and some Oregon/California travelers used the north bank. (And there were several variations as to where the trail began with cut-offs, etc. throughout.)

The more I learn about these people, the more connected I feel - and that's just not my own Vaughans. The Moyle Family in this company became connected by marriage with my Wood Family of South Davis County, Utah to produce Apostle Henry D. Moyle. The Piedmontese Saints are cousins of my Dad's Mother's family. And I'll let the challenges of the Piedmontese speak for themselves in the accounts that follows.

Nebraska Map Part 1, from Omaha to Lexington, Nebraska

A Death in Echo Canyon

A Mormon Pioneer Wagon Train in Echo Canyon on a day without the rain but otherwise still seemingly miserable.
Likely after 1861 because of the telegraph poles.

No wonder Echo Canyon has always haunted me!

Early in my blogging life, I became friends with a great, Mormon historian, Ardis Parshall. You can find her work at Keepapitchinin.org. She kindly corrected me when I told her that my family had a story that my 2nd Great Grandfather, Daniel Bartholemew Roman, had come across the plains in 1855 with a handcart at the age of four. You see, the handcart companies didn't start until 1856.

And I just discovered where that handcart story might have come from.

Daniel came from Piedmont, Italy with his widower father, David Charles Roman. Daniel's deceased mother was Jeanne Malan, of one of the first families to join the LDS Church in Italy. Daniel's father David, remarried in Utah to a widow who came with the Ellsworth Handcart Company in 1856, Suzanne Robert Rochon. She became widowed when her husband, Jean Michel Rochon, died in Echo Canyon on the 22nd of September, 1856, four days short of the Salt Lake Valley. An account of his tragic, though nameless, death is in the journal of William Butler, an Irishman, and Captain of the Second Hundred in the Ellsworth Company:

Upon arriving at Echo, Utah I became very sick and was forced to lie on the ground due to the pain in my stomach. After praying and resting a short time, I was able to continue on. As the company had gone on down the canyon, I was forced to travel alone, there being a terrible rainstorm raging and I was unable to see except when the lighting would flash. While traveling alone, I overtook an Italian and his little girl with their handcart. They also had been left behind to die. This man died before morning. I buried him the best I could, not having a shovel. I then traveled on, taking the little girl and her cart with me. During that day we overtook another man and his daughter by the name of Clark. They also had been left by the main company. I said to myself later, “Had it not been for Mr. Clark and his assistance I could not have continued on.” We overtook the main company the following day. Here we camped to bury our dead. Our provisions almost exhausted, we all cut down to one cup of flour a day.

It's Not a Quest If You Find It

If the only things that happened were that I had a great road trip with two of my boys and a chance to show them Jacks Valley, Nevada while telling them stories of our ancestors and how we found them, then we can't be the least bit disappointed that we found no actual grave site.

We made good time and followed the paved routes closest to the original California Trail, Humboldt Route (I-80) crossing the forty-mile desert (US-95) from the Humboldt Sinks (Lovelock) to the Carson Sinks (Fallon). Then it was US-50 on the Pony Express route right into Carson City and then South, turning up the official route onto Jacks Valley Road

The Last Wagon

Nobody died. Nobody ate anybody. But we did have an adventure on the Donner-Reed Party's route along the Hastings Cutoff.

The Last Wagon by Lynn Fausset

We went with some great public servants from the Bureau of Land Management (BLM). When I saw the notice of this trip on BLM's Facebook page, I immediately thought of my old friend from all the way back to grade school who is now teaching Law Enforcement at Great Basin College, Elko, Nevada. And he has a four-wheel drive.

In the old days, we did our exploring on bikes and in the woods. Sometimes our moms would meet at the grocery store and each would say, "I thought they were at your house!" while we were miles away from either. We found a lot of cool places but the golden hoard of some lost mine or buried treasure always eluded us. We did learn that the reward is in the adventure itself. That is the life lesson. So we took on another adventure yesterday on National Trails Day. 

The best part was to spend some good time together in one of those friendships that picks up after 40 years without skipping a beat. His wife came along and the night before our adventure, she and my wife found a connection in quilting and got along great. My buddy and I talked a lot about the old days but more so about who we are now and the mutual respect we have for each other. Friendship.

Jacks Valley, Nevada: Yesterday, Today, and Forever

Cross-posted from John and Elinor Vaughan Descendants:

On a typical less-than-busy evening at the North Bountiful Family History Library, I was working on my own family interests and came across a great picture of Jacks Valley, Nevada, from 1939:

Jack's Valley Pony Express Station
With the gracious permission of Sherratt Library Special Collections, Southern Utah University, Cedar City Utah, which owns the rights.

The photo caused one of those little mental shocks as should be obvious from this photo I took a couple of years ago at almost exactly the same spot:

North end of Jacks Valley, Nevada, looking Northeast from Jacks Valley Rd.. 20 October 2014
In the background against the hills is the Ascuaga Ranch, originally established by the Winters Family.

Yeah, pretty weird, right?

Guest Post - The Camino de Santiago de Compostela, Part II

An Update from my friends on the pilgrims' trail:

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Day 26 of Walking

Molinaseca, Spain

Despite bad weather and an incipient overuse injury, our walk of the Camino is going well. Our days have become predictable, repetitive and simple. I like it. 

By my GPS we have walked 280 miles in 26 days--almost 15 miles per day at a pace of 2.5 miles per hour or a little more. We now go a bit shorter and slower most days than we did at the start because tendinitis at the ankle is a problem. 

Guest Post - The Camino de Santiago de Compostela

This is a uniquely special guest blog from my old boss and friend (who's not really that old). He retired a few years ago and has been encouraging me to do the same ever since I was eligible. We'll see . . .

I sure to love and admire his sense of adventure. He and his wife, "B," are emailing and posting photos on Facebook of their current adventure. I'll let him tell his story:

My Old Friend with an Even Older Utah Connection

It was great reconnecting with a friend from when we were Scouts, say, 45 years ago! It was one of those where you can pick up a conversation left some forty years back and keep on going. A few circumstances and views have changed. And we still connect.

He's done some family history over the years. Even back before the internet made things so much easier. A picture of his 2nd-Great-Grandpa has a Utah connection:

Do you see what it says there on the back? "Camp Douglas, U.T. [Utah Territory] Jan 24th /66. Received Feb. the 17th."

Camp, now Fort Douglas, was established during the Civil War after the U.S. Troops abandoned Camp Floyd, in Utah County, as the Civil War approached. The principal military leader during Camp Douglas's early days was Colonel Patrick Connor of the 3rd California Volunteers sent to Utah to protect the overland trails and established Camp Douglas, uhm, maybe to keep a watch overlooking Brigham Young and the Mormons in the valley below. He is perhaps most famous, or infamous these days, for the Bear River Massacre against the Shoshone near the now Utah/Idaho border. But there was something about Utah than held him here if only as a thorn in Brigham's side to promote non-Mormon settlement and the mining industry. He also established a newspaper at Camp Douglas called the Union Vedette that was full of military, mining, and Mormon news. The latter, usually on the negative side. But it's still cool as an amazing, early historical source on the scene in Utah.

Nearly Dying by Lightning, Falling, or Exposure - A Typical Scout Adventure

Lightning would have been the quickest. Falling most painful. And exposure takes a while but you usually fall asleep first which I didn't that night as I kept arranging my heat-reflective space blanket to alternate sweating and freezing. And we somehow survived.

My Facebook Scout Challenge led me to seek out the Scouts from when I was an Assistant Scoutmaster in Bountiful, Utah, Stone Creek District, Great Salt Lake Council in the late 1980s. We worked with our boys on hiking and camping and did a pretty good preparation for a 50-mile hike across the Uintah Mountains, North to South, Wyoming to Utah.

Day 3 of the 50-miler. Two passes and a day of high altitude adventure. "Nephite Altar" circled in red upper right.

A feeling of dread woke with me on Day 3. We were camped above 11,000 feet on the slopes of Mt. Lovenia. I had discovered "the Nephite Altar" as we called it the bright and sunny evening before. You need to see it yourself to understand. That block of rock will not be going anywhere as it hasn't for a few thousand years. But that next morning, the pass above us was fogged in.

The "Nephite Altar" from Camp No. 2 facing East, of course.

Native Earth

We made it up to southwestern Idaho for my dad's 80th b-day celebration tomorrow. The Best Western, Caldwell Inn and Suites, gets good ratings so far. Very large rooms. A pool the grandkids are enjoying. My son is enjoying the hot tub with the Westminster Women's Basketball team here for a tourney. Free internet. It's a win-win-win-win.

My usual travelogue about the pioneer trails and old Highway 30 (particularly with Bliss that used to have cool, cement dinosaurs - kinda like Vernal, UT). And the features on top of Mountain Home mesa (no mountain and not my home). I pointed out to the south and west how we could see to Nevada in the peaks of the Owyhees (I've been to Duck Valley Rez on business) and the far end being in Oregon. As the sun set I tried to explain how the Easterners have it all wrong pronouncing a "gone" at the end of my native state. It hasn't "gone" anywhere. And it has to match the rhyme of the state song, "Land of the Empire Builders/Land of the Golden Sun/Hail to Thee, Land of Freedom/My Oregon."

Vintage Bliss

More Family Totems

A couple of weeks ago, I was at my parents' house. And having delivered to my dad a few framed pieces (he prefers a particular framing shop in Salt Lake City), I followed him around seeing some of his work and attempted a few more photos. I don't know what he thought I was doing, but I share here some important, family totems even if the first two weren't by him:

St. Francis by Ben Ortega

Lightning Pattern, Navajo Rug

Ben Ortega is now deceased, so I think the one I gave to my Mom a while back has probably increased in value. It's not like you should be placing values or buying and selling in St. Francis carvings. It sounds rather disrespectful to me and missing the whole point of the Santo.

On the right, is one of many Navajo rugs my parents own. Price is more invaluable as they seem to belong with my parents ever since they fell in love with Santa Fe in 1966. We earned some points with them for our nine years of residence there.

And now back to my dad's work, back to the very earliest days of his good art work. The first is a piece he did just after graduating from Brigham Young. I would have been about four months old. It hung in our house for all the years I can remember in my youth. It's good to have a photo of this one:

(c) 1957, Larry K. Vaughn

"I Need a Drink of Cool, Cool Rain"

Yes, I went the long way home. Well, not home yet. I've crashed in a Super 8 somewhere in Nevada. Reasons for that I'll blog later after more time for contemplation on my quest and a sort through my pics.

The thrill I had was a day cruising down the highway all on my own with no agenda, no time schedule, except to get there before dark, and The Who.

As it was raining from Beaverton on south, that gentle, soft, and beautiful Oregon rain, down through the green Douglas Fir each with its unique scraggle of branches, I went back to my youth in neighboring Washington State. I didn't quite get there this time, but it was beautiful across the Gorge. And I didn't get to the Ocean, but the rain was all I needed to revel in my nearly conquered teenage angst.

To See the Old and Feeble Dame

Or I could have titled this: "Amateur Historians Need Not Inquire."

It was not a total freak-out. After we were just about to Utah and free from Wyoming's desolation, I turned to my wife and asked:

"Do you think I'm obsessed with Grandma Eleanor?"

"Yes."

"Why do you say that?"