THE ROAD TO CALIFORNIA.
THE MORMONS.
In the Bunker Hill Aurora have appeared several letters written by a young man named Franklin K. Shedd, whose parents reside in Charlestown, and who, in the spring of 1847, left that city, and emigrated with the Mormons in their misguided wanderings to the Far West. As these letters contain much interesting information regarding the country through which he travelled, we submit them to our readers, premising that their author died in the vicinity of the Great Salt Lake, on the 22d of February last, in consequence of eating the wild parsnip, while on a hunting excursion, mistaking the root for one of similar appearance, eaten by the Indians. Mr. Shedd was only twenty-three years of age, and was loved and respected by all who knew him. His funeral was very numerously attended, and he was buried on a mountain near Salt Lake City, in the north-east part of Upper California. His death in that distant land while in the bloom of a youth which afforded much promise, is but another melancholy instance of the sad effects of following new and untried lights, whether in morals, society, politics or religion.
Council Bluffs, June 6th, 1847.
Knowing your anxiety for my welfare, and having a little leisure time, I improve it by writing to you of my present situation. I arrived here on the 20th of last month, after a slow but pleasant passage from St. Louis, in the steamer Archer, and I felt a degree of gratitude to the Ruler of all things for the health and strength I have had and still enjoy, also for the good condition of "the Camp."-But few things very remarkable have occurred on my journey. There have, however, been many disasters upon the rivers this spring; and I saw the wrecks of three or four steamers that were burnt or snagged. An old man of our company, by the name of Isaiah Eldrich, from Cape Cod, fell off the boat, about eight miles from this place, in a squall, and the river ran so rapidly he could not be rescued, though every exertion was made.
The western country I like very much. The prairies that I have seen, far surpass in beauty and grandeur any description I ever heard, especially those west of the Missouri river. They have not the level appearance and long coarse grass, but they are interspersed with numerous hills of a smooth, green surface of sweet, tender grass, that affords as good pasturage, and as rich milk and yellow butter as any cultivated fields in the East. However, it changes its appearance in some respects, in midsummer, when the drought prevails. The water here is poor, and the best is considered the Missouri after it has settled. The Missouri is much more muddy than the Mississippi, which William saw at New Orleans, because the latter river is clear, above its junction with this, and of course when the two are mixed, the compound is clearer, though even then it is very muddy.
I have not seen much wild game yet. Some wild turkeys on the banks of the Missouri I saw within gun-shot, also some pelicans of pure white, about double the size of a goose. Turkey buzzards, geese and ducks are very plenty; the former are seen in flocks, hovering over the dead carcasses of cattle or horses. The geese and ducks are mostly on the shore of the river with their young ones, and are so very tame that I could have killed them with stones, and if I had a scoop-net, and could attend to them, I should have caught some of the goslings to tame.
There are many kinds of herbs which grow on the banks of the rivers and rivulets, which are seen in the East, and also cultivated there, such as mul-len, onions, sage, summer- savory, hazlenuts, walnuts, crab-apples, plums, gooseberries, blackberries, raspberries, thimbleberries, strawberries, &c., on patches by springs and hollows. There is also a potatoe that answers as a substitute for the cultivated one.
I have seen specimens of two of the tribes of Indians near here. They all have the savage appearance and customs of those that live further west. However, they have never shed any white man's blood, as those who live on the route to and near Santa Fe. The Omahas have the worst reputation of any in our vicinity, and are despised by all the other tribes in the neighborhood. They are one of the tribes that had the battle we had an account of last winter. Their bodies still lay on the prairie un-buried, about a day's ride from this place. There are about one hundred and fifty in the camp at this time; some are prowling about the yard while I am writing. They have to be watched, for they are great thieves. They still have bows and arrows, with which they kill bears, wolves, prairie-hens, and oftentimes buffaloes. They have no blankets, and wear skins thrown over their backs, with no seams to form them to their bodies.
In relation to the Camp, their situation is much better than I expected it was, by the representations given by some, which were intended to dishearten me. They have plenty of food, but some of them have to live on very coarse food, and the past winter was a tedious one for many. Many died last winter, not for the want of food wholly, but for the want of proper nourishment-for vegetables which were so weighty that they could not be brought from Nauvoo, and they could not be purchased here, nor short of St. Louis. The scurvy was the disease most prevalent, but much different in its symptoms from that which sailors suffer on the high seas.-The grave-yard has about one hundred and fifty bodies in it.
There are about five or six hundred log houses here-some of them have been demolished for fuel. In the fore part of the winter, there were about eight hundred There were many families living in tents and wagons, preparing for the journey to the mountains, and will start in a day or two. Fifty young men started about five weeks ago, as pioneers, having seven of "the Twelve" with them, with the intention of making a proper selection of land for a settlement near Bear river, or a little west of that, called on some atlases, "the great un-explored region." A few of them with "the seven," will return this next fall, and spend the winter in this camp, to prepare another company for emigration the next spring; the other three of "the twelve" will go on in this company. I shall go too, and accompany Mr. J. M. Grant, who is well provided with all the requisites for the journey, and will be as well fitted as any that goes out. I shall drive one of his teams, and live in the wagon, which is strong and water-proof. I shall carry all my things, and I will here say that I have had the good luck not to lose anything on my journey so far.
There is a grocery kept here by a merchant from St. Louis, and a member of this society. They do quite a good business. There is a grist-mill that will grind 75 or 100 bushels of grain per day, many blacksmiths', wheelwrights' and carpenters' shops. They tell me that all these buildings and fencing were done by one united effort in the short space of three or four weeks. The city is all picketed in like the Massachusetts state prison yard, and a short distance from it, it looks like the cattle market of Brighton, for the property is mostly wagons, provisions, machinery, and cattle that are put into inclosures within the city; but they have had some difficulty in taking care of their herds, some hundreds having been stolen during the last winter.
The city is laid out in squares and regular streets, and things are in order. The habitations are modelled after the fancy of the individual proprietors, and their shape and fashion is sometimes so curious that they are laughable, and they are called by nicknames, such as the "potatoe hill," "snake hole," &c., and the city is called the "city of sods."
I find many of the friends I was acquainted with in the East, who receive me warmly, and although they are represented to be in so miserable a condition, they are cheerful, and on the night of the arrival of the steamer, they had a dance in her saloon.-They also had a march about the streets yesterday, to cheer up the emigrants. Mr. Tuttle, the baker, is near the camp, about six miles off, on our great farm, consisting of many hundred acres under cultivation. To see these big fields caps all the ploughing-matches I ever saw, and the prairies with the patches of cotton wood, look, a short distance off, just like a vast mowing field, with here and there an apple-orchard.
William desired me to tell of the laws that would be established by the society, after they got to their destination, but I cannot tell that about them, for I think they will not, (at present, at least,) make any laws different from what have been practised; such as the "tenth," which includes all the taxation of every nature, and that will not be enforced until after they are established in good order. F. K. S.
Indian Territory, Platte River, near
Fort Laramie, July 25th, 1847.
A few of the pioneers who left Council Bluffs to search a location for the main body early this spring, we met yesterday on their return. They will continue their journey back to-morrow, and by them I send you these lines in haste.
I wrote you from Council Bluffs, and told of many things which I have no time to repeat. There are in this company, about six hundred wagons and three thousand individuals. I suppose you think I am in the heart of the wilderness, but I have not seen any yet, but I am in the largest mowing-field, and the greatest farm for live stock I have ever seen or imagined. For the last fortnight I have seen continually herds of buffaloes, from 25,000 to 100,000 in each herd. Their meat is better than Boston market beef. You may think I have told my story in haste, but my figures are right.-They are so plenty that there is danger of their running among our cattle, and causing them to stray-away with them. There are cattle and horses among them which are supposed to have strayed from other companies at different times. I had a chase once with about 1000 or 1500, (on foot,) and shot one bull. It is grand fun, for they are clumsy things to run.
There is a hunting party of about 500 Sioux Indians encamped in sight of us to-day. They are the finest looking Indians I have seen yet, and have beautiful ponies. I shall try to trade for one if possible. We smoked with them, and in the meantime their daughters were riding their wild colts about at a great rate.
We are formed in six companies of about 100 wagons each, having captains appointed to hundreds, fifties and tens. Each hundred travels in double file, breaking their tracks, or following in the tracks of the foremost, as they choose. We generally break from four to six tracks of roads, and when we encamp, each hundred forms a circle, with gaps at each end, thus ; the area in the middle is used for a cattle yard in the night.
I have a wagon by myself to sleep in, that is dry and convenient. I drive two and three yoke of oxen. All my things which I started with from Charlestown, are preserved. I wear nothing but overalls and shirt, and shoes in bad places.
There are no rocks, or ledges or trees here. We burn "buffalo chips;" it makes good fire, and is abundant. Our location will probably be on a lake called "Utaw," about thirty miles from the Great Salt Lake. We have in our company every thing good for a settlement-the best of cattle and mules, two grist-mills, two six-pound cannon, a boat and a bell. The health of the camp is remarkable-no deaths, and but few cases of sickness. F. K. S.
Sixty miles east of the Pass of the Rocky
Mountains, Sept. 6th, 1847.
Mr. J. C. Little, in whose care I send this letter, staid in this camp last night, on his return from the great valley of the Salt Lake. He came from Peterborough, N. H., last spring, and accompanied the pioneers to select a location. He gives a good ac-count of the valley, in regard to the soil, climate, wood, stone and mineral productions.
They have laid out a city of eight or ten miles square, and built log cabins on one side, and turf ones on the other, for the emigrants this season, and also as a breast-work for the security of the place against the Indians. The city is about thirty-five miles south-east of the Salt Lake, on Utaw Lake. The water of the former is so salt that it will bear a shin bone on its surface, and no living thing lives either in or about it. The latter lake, (Utaw,) is fresh water, and abounds with many kinds of fish. The pioneers have planted about ten acres of potatoes, and other stuff to correspond.
I will not forget to tell you that I am as hearty as a buck, and I wish you all were as contented and happy as myself. The snuffing of this mountain breeze is fine. Our foremost division-the van of the army-is by this time in the valley.
I cannot tell you all that I have seen, but will relate some few things. In this country there are places where lakes have dried up, and a large amount of stuff called saleratus, lays on the bottom. It is pure and white to the depth of four or six inches, and will make good bread, and soap. A great many of the folks use it altogether-the U. S. Army also used it.
We have not seen timber for some hundred miles, and do not expect to for a hundred or less to come; we burn buffalo chips, (dung) which are dry and very abundant. We fare sumptuously on bear, buf-falo, deer and antelope meat. The other day I shot I two fowls called mountain sage-birds, as large as turkeys, and the meat is as good; they were very tame, and probably would be easily domesticated; they look like the Eastern partridge. Wolves are very numerous, and som e panthers have been seen. We have lost about sixty head of cattle; 20 have died from poison, and 40 have strayed away among the buffalo herds. When we travel, we go from 10 to 20 miles per day. We have stopped Sundays, and when a wagon breaks down we stop and repair-set fires, &c., &c., and the women bake and wash. Everything I took from Charlestown I have preserved.
There is much travel on this route now, and probably will be for the future. We met Gen. Kearney and escort with about one or two hundred mules, about six weeks ago, on his return to the States.-This morning it is chilly-I can hardly hold my pen, and we are about to start. I wrote you two letters since I left Council Bluffs. You may hear from me once more this season. F. K. S.
Salt Lake Valley, Great
Basin, Oct. 14th, 1847.
Having still one more opportunity of sending you a letter this fall, I improve the chance.
My health is and has been as good as I possibly could wish ever since I left home, and even remarkable while on the road from Council Bluffs to this place, considering the great change in my mode of living, such as being deprived of vegetables and fruits in their season, (with the exception of a few berries I gathered on the way,) and sleeping exposed to the weather-sometimes in wagons and at others in the open prairie, or on the mountains, when my turn came to guard the camp or herd the cattle, a duty from which no one was exempt, not even the captains.
We arrived at this place the 5th of this month, so you see I have not had time to range about much to learn for myself the merits of this Valley. Mr. J. C. Little, the bearer of my last letter, can give you a better description than I can, owing to his making it a business to range the mountains and view the valleys, and make such discoveries as would be useful to this people. He lives in Peterborough, N. H. He will be in Boston occasionally, and by inquiring of Mr. Cannon, you can ascertain at what times.
Since my last I have gone through such places and over such mountains as would make the heart of a Bostonian quake, were he to come upon them unawares and inexperienced-such as canons, where the water has gullied away the mountains for ages, leaving the banks on either side nearly perpendicular to the height of 400 feet, for 50 miles in extent, and only a place at the bottom barely wide enough to admit our wagons in single file, and a small brook, which we had to cross frequently with great difficulty and danger. The place called the South Pass is simply a place where two ranges of mountains seem to terminate or change their course.-The Wind river mountains can be seen on the northwest, about 95 miles off, with snow on their tops at all seasons of the year, and another range at the south- east, about 100 miles off; the same range, I think, forms the eastern boundary of this valley.
If you were to enter this place with no more experience than you now have of the western country, you would think at first it was about five miles long and three broad-with no timber or water sufficient-unless you should spy the Salt Lake on the northwestern boundary-but by examining and measuring, you would find it to be about 26 miles broad, and from 70 to 100 miles in length; and the "canons," in the mountains on the east side, supply an abundance of timber-the principal is fur, which is the same as you use for ornamentals in Massachusetts, but they grow to a great height here, and the timber is the most suitable for building; there are also some sugar-maple and oak, the young ones of which are to be preserved, to be set out for shades and ornament, and the other ones are to be sparingly used for purposes that the fur will not answer for. There are many small trees of the latter kind springing up, and if it had not been for the fires which sweep the valleys and mountains yearly, this would have been undoubtedly a thick timbered valley. There is quite a large stream of water running from the Utaw lake from the south, northward, directly through the centre of the valley, and emptying itself into the Salt Lake at the south- west.-we call it the Jordan. Emptying into it there are very many brooks, which are formed by the melting of the snow and ice in the mountains, and also from the springs, which abound in the valley, as well as in the "canons."
There is no wild fruit here save mountain-currants, service-berries and elder-berries. There is no rain here at all, and the land is watered by a simple process of irrigation, by turning the course of the creeks or brooks as you desire the water to flow, which is very easily done with a hoe or shovel. The soil here is a rich mellow loam resembling ashes, and can be as easily worked.
We shall need no ice-houses here, for we are settled on the east side, about four miles from the mountains, and the snow-water does not get warm before we get it at our doors; and also by digging a foot or two you can form a spring, in some places near the main springs. Among the curiosities is the Salt Lake, 25 miles off, even so salt that it is impossible for a man to sink himself in it above his arm-pits, and after bathing there awhile and drying himself, one may rattle the salt out of his hair quite fast-his head will be white with it. Also the hot springs, and the warm springs: the former are boiling hot all the time. The spring or hole it issues from in the mountain is as big as a barrel, and the spring pours out horizontally. The latter are not quite so large, but they resemble the former both in the color (blue) and smell of the water, which is like brimstone, but very clear. They are about two miles from this location, and the people resort there to bathe in the warm springs, which are blood warm.
There is red and white clay, also limestone, and many other kinds of stone in the mountains.
For our safety from the Indians, we are building an enclosure or fort, 138 rods long, and 40 broad, to live in this winter, and are also enclosing a portion of land sufficient to put in the fall wheat. Our outbuildings, &c., are to be built of unbaked bricks-the old California name is "adobie." They are mixed like mortar and formed in boxes about the size of four common bricks, and dried in the sun, which makes them very durable. They say in South California, the people build chiefly in this way, and they last commonly one hundred years.-All the houses in Santa Fe are of this kind.
I am well pleased with the place, and I suppose you wish to know how I spend my time, but I can hardly tell you, for I am engaged in so many different ways. I live with one Willard Snow, a Ver-monter, and shall continue with him this winter. Sometimes I mend wagons, make "adobies," and clerk a little for the business meetings. Evenings we young folks have a sing or dance, as we please. It is amusing to pass through the fort and hear the fiddles going and children playing. I attended a ball given to the Indians and Mountaineers, at Mr Bridge's fort on Green river; it was attended by the young men and girls of our "hundred," and I very readily went through their forms in dancing.
The soldiers from the “battalion" are coming in every day, and they have horses and mules in abundance. They are going to Council Bluffs this fall, and by them I send you this letter.
I wish to tell you before I close, of the deception in distances out here, and as I am a bit of a mountaineer myself, I will tell you a story of our pioneers. At a camp on the Platte river, near the Sweetwater, a man proposed to go to the mountains in the north-apparently but a short distance-and bring down a snow-ball. He set out at noon, and was gone all day till dark, when the camp was alarmed for his safety, and many sallied out on their horses in search of him. He was found about midnight, in the mountains, quite "tuckered out." The distance was found to be 15 miles.
There is no large game here in the valley. In the mountains are grizzly bears and wild sheep.-Buffalos have been here in former times. It is very healthy here indeed. The distance I have come does not seem far to me; I can go it on a horse in two months, and I have so good a recollection of the road, that I could pilot a company through.
Salt Lake City, Great Basin,
January 9th, 1848.
As another mail is to leave this place for the States to-morrow, I improve the opportunity of sending you another letter, knowing you are all anxious concerning my welfare.
My health is perfect, and spirits good, and I hope you all have, and always will enjoy the same blessings.
I know of no better way to write to you, to have it interesting, than to imagine myself by your fireside, relating to you the things which I think will interest you, and this I will do if you will all assemble. If you received my letter of November, you learnt from it the time I arrived in the valley. Since then nothing remarkable has transpired, but the winter has been very mild indeed, and the opinion of the people is that spring has opened, and preparations are being made to commence our spring ploughing. The number of acres of fall wheat that is sown already, is three thousand. The seeds that I took with me have proved to be valuable, on account of the seeds of the camp being one season older.
There have been some valuable discoveries here this winter, viz.: abundance of gray marble. I have not seen a good specimen yet, but it is said to be of excellent quality. Forty miles north-west of this place, salt can be scraped up, or if the water of the lake be boiled, it will yield one third. Twenty miles north, the best kind of grindstones, and millstones six miles east. The white cllay I spoke of in my last, has proved exceedingly valuable; it can be dug in any quantity one or two miles from the camp or city. It lies two or three feet below the surface, and contains, when mixed with water, all the good qualities of slacked lime, and will make excellent mortar when mixed with white sand, (which also abounds here) in proportions of one part clay to three parts sand. Many buildings are whitewashed with it, and it is superior to any lime wash I ever saw, if possible. Preparations are making for manufacturing crockery waare of this clay, and judges say it will make the finesst kind. Thousands of acres of peat meadow lie inn different directions, about three or four miles off.
There are four saw-mills under way, two gristmills, (one is running now continually,) two turning lathes, one gunsmith's, six or eight blacksmiths', and lots of shoemakers' and tailors' shops.
I wish here to relate a sad circumstance; it is the destruction of the entire crop that our pioneers put in last summer, caused by our half famished cattle shortly after we arrived. On account of this, a company of about thirty "boys" with mules, started for the Spanish settlements, to obtain potatoes, wheat, peas, beans, &c., for seed, and grape vines, and other fruit seeds which abound there.
January 30th. After I wrote the above, I learned that the bearer of despatches to the United States charged a great price for carrying letters, so I retained this until this time. Nothing remarkable has happened since the 9th; the weather has continued very mild, and the green grass is about two inches high on the table lands, and the spring operations have commenced.
This valley is very healthy; there are only eight graves here-no deaths have occurred from any disease which originated here; two were brought to this place for interment who died on the road; one was a little boy who fell into a brook and was drowned while trying to drink milk from a basin that sat near by; two or three were infants, and the rest were those who were ill a long time previous. I wish to mention once more the singularity of the valley-that one can see cattle or horses grazing 12 or 15 miles off, with the naked eye with ease, and from some points you can see the mountains in the Salt Lake about sixty miles off, and they appear only about six or eight miles off. They do not assume that dingy appearance at that great distance that hills do in the East at 5 or 6 miles off. We had a visit from Capt. Grant, of Hall's Fort, about 200 miles north-west. He expressed himself pleased with the place, and with us as a people, and offered to use his influence with the English company he was engaged in, to open a trading communication.
Some of the Indians that live here are of the tribe called diggers by Col. Fremont; the root they principally eat is the thistle or thissel, which is in shape like a parsnip, but tastes like a turnip. They fare sumptuously on the entrails of the beeves which we kill. They are covered with vermin which they eat, and also crickets, in the summer time; the crickets grow about two inches long. Some of these Indians are nearly naked, and use bows and arrows with stone points.
I own one good cow, and shall shortly have one more-or a yoke of oxen. Cows are worth twenty-ty-five dollars here, if good for milk. Last week I went into the mountains and cut a set of house logs of fir balsam; they are straight as an arrow I shall erect my house as soon as the spring work is over; and when I get my city lot and land laid off, I shall build an "Adobie" on it, for they will be the best buildings in the country, except stone or marble. F. K. SHEDD.
