Verbatim selections from the life writings - the diaries, letters and reminiscences - of some of the men, women and children at Winter Quarters were presented in readers-theater format at the Sons of Utah Pioneers Symposium Nov. 16.
Maureen Ursenbach Beecher of the Joseph Fielding Smith Institute of Church History at BYU wrote the narration and compiled the quotations. She was joined in the presentation by Richard E. Bennett, head of archives and special collections at the University of Manitoba and an author and lecturer on the Winter Quarters period; Brother Bennett's wife, Patricia; Maurine Carr Ward, editor and publisher of the Nauvoo Journal and compiler of the writings of women pioneers; Dale Beecher of the Museum of Church History and Art in Salt Lake City (who sang and played on his guitar short selections of pioneer songs); and Carol Cornwall Madsen, also of the Smith Institute of Church History and author and editor of many Church history books.Quotations, Sister Beecher said, were edited for readability, with none given in the exact form in which the writer presented it. Here are excerpts from the readers-theater presentation, with narration in italic type:
Winter Quarters is not just a place. Though historians and anthropologists may locate on the landscape remnants of the events which happened there, Winter Quarters is a time, a transition, a trial. It is a cauldron, a crucible in which a people, converted to a new and demanding faith, were cleansed by cold and hunger, baptized in the great pool of their suffering and redeemed by the outpouring of spiritual manifestation. . . .
Everyone saw the Winter Quarters experience differently, and each person's view changed from day to day, season to season. Perigrin Sessions, somewhere in Iowa, wrote in his diary June 22, 1846:
"Here we were surrounded by the Lamanites on all sides and over 100 miles from the cursed Gentiles. Here, although not a house for the thousands that were in camp, yet I felt at home for my home was in my wagon and that I could move as I pleased."
Eliza Roxcy Snow, herself sick and her brother Lorenzo delirious with fever, wrote:
"It is a growling, grumbling, devilish, sickly time with us now."
Brigham Young, optimistically encouraging his brethren of the Twelve and prospective immigrants, described Winter Quarters itself as:
" . . . upwards of 700 houses in our miniature city, composed mostly of logs in the body, covered with puncheon, straw and dirt which are warm and wholesome. A few are composed of turf, willows, straw, etc., which are very comfortable this winter, but will not endure the thaws, rain and sunshine of spring."
Wilford Woodruff's diary unconsciously accumulates two months of physical and emotional distress. . . . Bruised [from an accident while cutting timber] in thigh and hip and left arm, Wilford suffered a broken breast bone and three broken ribs, as well as, in his words, "bruised lung and vitals":
"Nov. 4. Our little Joseph was taken sick this day. Had taken cold and settled upon his lungs. I this day for the first time went out of the wagons and was able to walk to my tent. . . .
"Nov. 5. I this day walked to the tent alone with the aid of a staff. Joseph is a-failing, is dangerously sick.
"Nov. 7. I am gaining daily in strength but Joseph is failing. I called upon the elders to administer to him. . . .
"Nov. 11. I spent several hours with Joseph. Supposed each moment to be his last but again revived at midnight.
"Nov. 12, 1846. We found our little boy was failing and could not possibly hold out longer. Every exertion had been made to make him comfortable and if possible to restore him to health, but it seemed that he must go. Sister Abbot took the main charge of him during the night as Mrs. Woodruff's strength was mostly exhausted. He had suffered much from convulsions during his sickness but he breathed his last and fell asleep this morning 15 minutes before 6 o'clock. And we took his remains to the grave at 4 o'clock in the afternoon."
Each family had to make its own peace with what seemed to them a bitter demand [for enlistees in the Mexican War]. Here is Drusilla Dorris Hendricks, in charge of her large family since her husband's paralysis from a shot in his neck at the battle of Crooked River. Their son William, age 18, was her right arm, her best hope of success in the journey. She could not have him enlist. As he set off for morning chores:
"My eyes followed him as he started through the tall heavy grass wet with dew. I got ready to get breakfast, and when I stepped up on the wagon tongue to get my flour I was asked by that same spirit that had spoken to me before if I did not want the greatest glory. I answered with my natural voice, Yes I did. Then how can you get it without making sacrifices?' said the voice. I answered,Lord, what lack I yet?' Let your son go in the Battalion,' said the voice. I said,It's too late. They are to be marched off this morning.' That spirit then left me with the heartache.
"I got breakfast and called the girls and their father to come to the tent for prayers. William came, wet with dew from the grass, and we sat down around the heavy board and my husband commenced asking the blessing on the food. Then Thomas Williams came shouting at the top of his voice, saying, Turn out, men, turn out, for we lack some men yet in the Battalion.' William raised his eyes and looked me in the face. I knew then that he would go as well as I know now that he has been. I went to milk the cows. I thought the cows would be shelter for me, and I knelt down and told the Lord if he wanted my child, to take him, only spare his life. I felt it was all I could do. Then a voice answered me saying,It shall be done unto you as it was unto Abraham when he offered Isaac on the altar.' I don't know whether I milked or not, for I felt the Lord has spoken to me."
