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Journey to Genoa
Journey to Genoa
Journey to Genoa
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Journey to Genoa

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Journey To Genoa is based on the remarkable lives of Benjamin T. and Jane Jones who along with their children, migrate to America on the Buena Vista, the first Latter Day Saints or Mormon ship to sail from Wales to America with converts in 1849. Two days before the ship docks in New Orleans, the Jones family, having exposed the Mormon practices of communicating with the spirits and polygamy, is excommunicated by the Latter Day Saints. Follow their journey as they make their way alone in a strange land starting in New Orleans, then working their way West to St. Louis, where the tragedy of the cholera claims the lives of three family members, then across the plains where they encounter hostile Indians, violent weather and the near death of their infant daughter. In Salt Lake City, they again confront the Mormon hierarchy. Prophet and Territorial Governor, Brigham Young throws the five Jones men in the stockade. Persuaded by the women in the family, the US Cavalry not only rescues the men, but escorts the family out of the Valley towards the Gold Fields of California. Much has been written about the soiled doves of the Gold Rush, but little has been written about the respectable women who joined their husbands with their families in the Gold Fields. The Jones women take advantage of the laws of their new country that enabled them to own businesses in their own name, not just their husbands, one of which is a partnership with Levi Strauss in the beginning of his Levi pants empire. Eighteen months later their success rivals that of their husbands in the Gold Fields. With their new found wealth, they cross back across the Sierra and establish a home in the rich Carson Valley, Utah Territory. There they are part of the founding of the Nevada Territory and the State of Nevada.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJan 25, 2011
ISBN9781456716028
Journey to Genoa
Author

Nevada K. Jones

At the age of 10, Nevada’s normal perch was on the corral fence as she gazed out at the barn yard around her. She looked at an old headstone laying on its side that belonged to some grandfather and pondered about this forgotten man. Solving that mystery led to Nevada’s fascination with where her ancestors came from and how it came to be that one of their headstones had been in the barn yard for as long as anyone could remember. Her quest led her to follow her ancestors from Wales by way of the rat-invested hold of a Mormon ship and then across America by covered wagon through Indian territory until they reached the Gold Fields. She continues to pursue the different paths of her ancestors as they made their way West. With each journey there is another story to tell.

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    Journey to Genoa - Nevada K. Jones

    © 2011 Nevada K. Jones. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    First published by AuthorHouse 1/21/2011

    ISBN: 978-1-4567-1603-5 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4567-1602-8 (e)

    ISBN: 978-1-4567-1604-2 (sc)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2010918909

    Printed in the United States of America

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    This book is printed on acid-free paper.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Map of Journey

    SKMBT_C35110101510530.jpg

    Acknowledgements

    It takes a ‘village’ to write a book and I want to sincerely thank all those in my village that made this book possible. Especially my husband, Burt, our children, Brandon, Brett and Bridgit, my sisters Pat and her husband Merle, Ginger and her husband Gary, and my brother, Scott and his wife Sandra who helped research, critique, gave technical advice as well as encouragement and support during the process, and to my aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who helped along the way. Thanks are in order to Dr. Ronald Dennis for his translations of the Welsh books; to Robert and Marion Ellison whose work unravels the mysteries of early Nevada history; to Guy Rocha, Nevada State Archivist and Jeff Kintop, assistant administrator for the Nevada Archives; Billy Rightmire, Genoa Town Historian and to all the fellow writers and researchers I met along the way. Thanks to the Latter Day Saints Genealogical Library in Salt Lake City, who open their records to all faiths so we might solve the mysteries of our ancestors. Thanks to David John and the Comstock Cowboys for the use of their song, San Luis Obispo, (Saga of the Donner Party). A big thank you to Marilee, Kevin, Wilma, Joyce, Angela and all the members of Lone Mountain Writers Group of Western Nevada College. A special thank you to the employees and volunteers of the courthouses and museums across the West whose dedication and diligence in maintaining the artifacts and records enables us to learn the stories of our past.

    If you visit Genoa, Nevada, be sure and stop at the Genoa Courthouse Museum. They have a great exhibit of Snowshoe Thompson. Cross the street to the Museum at Mormon State Park and see the plow that Benjamin Jones made from the wheels of his wagon that brought his family West. Both museums are usually open from May through September. To see the place of Benjamin and Jane’s ranch, visit the Genoa Lakes Resort Golf Course. Below the cart barn you’ll see a tree that marks the original home site of the Jones Family. The surrounding golf course is where they built their ranch on the virgin lands of Nevada. Devils Ladder is located approximately 15 miles up Hwy 88. Stop at the Ranger Station for directions. Elzy Knott’s grave is located behind the Wild Rose B & B. Benjamin and Jane are buried in Dayton, NV. And Elizabeth and John James are buried in the Genoa Cemetery.

    Dedication

    This book is dedicated to my husband, Burt. Behind every writer of the West is a spouse who understands land surveys, knows how to read old maps and can follow a trail anywhere. And to my cousin Lynn, who walked this incredible journey with me from the beginning.

    Table of Contents

    Part 1: Wales 1848

    Chapter 1

    Part 2: Liverpool 1849

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Part 3: Crossing the Ocean February – May 1849

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Part 4: St. Louis, Missouri 1849-50

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Part 5: Crossing The Plains 1850

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Part 6: Salt Lake Valley, Utah Territory 1850

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Part 7: The Gold Fields 1851

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Part 8: The Carson Valley 1852-1855

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Chapter 29

    Part 9: Carson Valley 1856-58

    Chapter 30

    Chapter 31

    Part 10: Journey’s End 1859-1860

    Chapter 32

    Chapter 33

    Epilogue

    References

    JONES FAMILY

    Benjamin Jones m. Jane Williams

    b. 1806 (Wales) b. 1806 (Wales)

    Children:

    Elizabeth m. John James

    b. 1826 (Wales)

    Thomas m. Eliza

    b. 1827 (Wales)

    William m. Merrien

    b. 1829 (Wales)

    Evan

    b. 1835 (Wales)

    Ester

    b. 1844 (Wales)

    Mary Jane Teapot Mary

    b. 1851 (in covered wagon)

    Part 1:

     Wales

    1848

    "Religious faith is an answer to the problem of life…

    The majority of mankind want or need some all-embracing

    belief system which purports to provide an answer to life’s mysteries,

    and are not necessarily dismayed by the discovery that their belief system,

    which they proclaim as the truth, is incompatible with the beliefs

    of other people. One man’s faith is another man’s delusion. Whether a belief is considered to be a delusion or not depends partly upon the intensity with which it is defended, and partly upon the number of people subscribing to it."

    Anthony Storr

    Feet of Clay

    Chapter 1

    The mist from the hills hung heavy over Abedare, Glamorganshire, Wales, in November of 1848. It shrouded the grey dilapidated buildings with sagging roofs and exposed wood, disguising the misery of the damp evening. Benjamin Jones passed the weathered boarding houses where many miners lived, unable to rise out of poverty. Pulling his coat tight around him, he made his way through the town on his way home from his shift at the mine.

    The night was cold and soggy, like his spirits. The only sign of life in the houses along his path were small candles that flickered in the windows. He rounded the corner at a run-down building used by the town undertaker and moved swiftly on, not wanting to linger at such a distressing place. The memory of the deaths of his young daughters, especially Catherine who died six months ago, was still too vivid in his memory.

    As he walked down the street, the lights of the Dragon Pub penetrated the darkness. He heard the sounds of a lively crowd inside. A solitary figure emerged from the mists and walked in his direction. He recognized his good friend, David Childs, a stout Welshman who worked with him in the mines.

    "Bore da, my friend, Benjamin. Do ye have a moment for a pint? I hear the Mormons have published another issue of their periodical, Prophwyd y Jubili. I’m sure we’ll find a copy in the Dragon. It’s all my Sarah has talked about lately. What about your Jane? Does she seem taken with them?"

    Aye. She does! She sure seems taken by their preacher! Benjamin replied, unable to forget Jane’s recent ramblings about the new religion.

    I think it best we read about the new Church ourselves. What say ye? asked David.

    "Or gore, I could use a pint this evening. A hard day it has been. My bones ache from too long in the shaft. Come. Let’s go read about these new Mormons and their tales of America." Benjamin opened the heavy wooden door into the smoky haze of the Dragon.

    The smell of musty walls and tables mixed with the strong odors of the men after a long day in the mines, assaulted their senses. Steam rose from the tweed and woolen coats and disappeared into the stale fumes of whiskey and beer. A low ceiling echoed back the noise and laughter in the room. Benjamin and David found a table and the barkeep came to take their drink order.

    So what will it be tonight, gents? he asked.

    A couple of Robinsons will do us fine, exclaimed Benjamin good-heartedly. Do ye have a copy of that new Mormon newspaper? Childs, here, and I want to read for ourselves those bloody stories we’ve been hearing!

    The barkeep returned with two pints of Robinsons with just the right amount of froth on top and set them down on the table. Here, ye best get these down before reading this trash, he said and laid a copy of the Prophwyd y Jubili between them. "Seems strange and wild to me, what with their stories of this place they call their Zion in America, where everyone is rich and free from troubles. Sounds too good to be true if you ask me. And the Baptist minister said the Mormons have little regard for the book of Christ, but instead, put great store in their new Book of Mormon!"

    With a troubled look on his face, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. Some say it’s a ploy to get the converts on the ship, then the Mormons will sell them as slaves at a place called Cuba. Ye best keep your wits about ye when ye read this! the barkeep cautioned and turned to leave.

    Benjamin reached for his spectacles as David divided up the paper. Each settled in comfortably to read in the dim light while they drank their pints. They found their train of thought interrupted often by hacking coughs, consumptive croaks, and the smell of piss that wafted in from the outdoor jakes when someone opened the door.

    Benjamin sat up straight in his chair with a jolt. Did ye read this? He pointed to an article in front of him. "It says here about that California in America, where the Mormon Zion is located…the soil is very fertile and produces grasses and plants in abundance. The best land excels over anything that is on the continent, producing from 50-100 bushels of wheat from one bushel of seed. The farmers grow peas, beans, and every variety of garden vegetable abundantly and also Indian corn, melons, pumpkins; and there is no country in the world more suitable than California for growing grapes. One farmer can own from 9-20 square miles of land, and often these farmers own a thousand head of horned cattle…there are many excellent places available.

    Mind you, David, Benjamin said and laid his paper aside. It’s like the barkeep says. It all sounds too good to believe. And I don’t know about this prophet of theirs, Joseph Smith? Was he really visited by the angels and told to lead these new Latter-Day Saints?

    "And what about that book of theirs, the Book of Mormon? David pointed out. Smith claims to be given it by the apostles of Christ. If this all be fact, it be amazing indeed. I don’t know. I’m skeptical."

    But look what it says about the land there, Benjamin offered, pointing to the paper in front of him. Can you imagine soil so fertile as that! Let’s go with Jane and Sarah to the meeting tonight and see what we can find out for ourselves about these Mormons. I’ve never been one to take another man’s word for it. What do ye say, old friend? Are you up for it?

    "Or gore, we’ll go tonight. Sarah and I will meet you at the meeting hall before eight," David replied. They lingered for a while, exchanging news of the mine and finishing their pints. Then they made their way through the crowd and out into the foggy night. Each pulled his hat down low against the chill. David headed south toward the stables, turned right and disappeared into the mist, heading home.

    Benjamin walked quickly north, trying to ward off the cold. Tall, loose-limbed, and somewhat homely, he had big ears and wore a beard that covered his crooked jaw. He wore a jovial smile with webbing around his eyes. He walked with long, powerful strides to hasten his journey. A man more accustomed to leading than following, he moved with an assurance of purpose. Weathered and worn, like all Welshman who had spent years toiling on the land and coaxing minerals from the earth, he looked older than his forty-two years. His tired eyes and prematurely grey hair testified to the hardships of life in Wales.

    The moon peeked through the clouds, casting eerie shadows upon the street. At the edge of town, he turned toward the Black Forest and followed a well worn path through the rocks and ferns toward the meadows and his cottage. Far off the shrill, wild cry of a Windhover sent a shudder through him.

    As he walked, his mind wandered back to the article about California in America, where fruit is plucked from the trees and there are no winters. He compared it to their bleak existence here in Abedare.

    True, he made more money than most since he was promoted to Injenere for the mine. But he didn’t own his land or cottage and like most, survived as tenants for their landlords. Even as frugal as he was, it was hard to save much. He struggled to keep two shillings to rub together in his pocket. This place they call California is a world away from the life we live here in Wales…

    Benjamin crossed the old wooden bridge over the swollen creek and noted it wouldn’t take much more rain to breach the banks and flood his land.

    He often wondered about the kind of life that lay ahead for his sons working the mines. He had watched his grandfather die from consumption, struggling everyday his last few years just to take a breath. And if the consumption didn’t get you, some mine explosion probably would. Benjamin had prayed for years that his sons wouldn’t have to work in the mines, but instead could make their living from the land. But he knew that comparing mining and farming in the desolation of Wales was like measuring kneeling and stooping… both aimed to grind you down.

    Benjamin had seldom seen his own father until he was eight years old and went to work with him in the mines. It had been the same with his own sons. When they were small, he left home before they awoke and often returned home long after they’d gone to bed. Although he had tried hard to keep them in school and out of the mines, in the end, his sons had followed in his footsteps.

    And now that Elizabeth, Thomas, and William were married, he had grandchildren to think about as well as his own four-year-old daughter, Ester. Children in Wales often had bellies that stuck to their backbones for want of decent food. He had always hoped for a different life for his children and his grandchildren. Benjamin hastened his step, eager to get home to Jane and attend the meeting with her.

    When he reached the edge of the meadow by his cottage, he looked out across his moonlit farm. It wasn’t large, but he had learned to make do with what he had. In the far pasture, a few head of sheep were separated from his three cows by a wide rock fence built from years of hauling rocks out of the fields, hoping to encourage the land to produce. Without land a man is nothing…the land is a man’s soul. Looking at his rented land, Benjamin realized his soul was not his own.

    As he walked by the near pasture, his thoroughbred horse, Diablo trotted up to greet him at the fence. Benjamin stopped and nuzzled his head. The horse responded with a soft whinny.

    Diablo was worth more than all their belongings together. The Marquis de Bute had offered a handsome price for him, but Benjamin had refused to sell. The love of horses ran deep in his blood; his father and his grandfather were both known in Wales for their knowledge of horseflesh. Diablo had been a gift from his father and Benjamin had raised him from a colt. He had even won a couple of local races although Benjamin never pushed him hard.

    Scratching Diablo’s mane, he thought about how much joy the animal had brought to his existence. The only time Benjamin really felt free from all his worries and despair was when he galloped over the glens of Glamorganshire. Somehow, his mind and the horse’s body formed something greater than the individual parts. The powerful thrusts of Diablo’s muscles under him gave him courage to face any challenge before him.

    There were times when the cupboards were nearly bare, and the hungry looks on his children’s faces nearly drove him to sell Diablo. But he never could bring himself to part with the horse. He felt Diablo was all that stood between his family and certain disaster. Once the powerful animal was gone, there would be nothing to fall back on, and Benjamin’s dreams for a better life would vanish.

    He moved on toward the house and passed their small garden, which only reminded him more of their miserable lot. It supplied much of their food, but it was a chore to coax vegetables to grow in the rocky soil. There were years like this one, when the fruits from the garden were so poor, the family was lucky to share a potato between them for dinner.

    Is there no way out of this existence?

    Aye! Benjamin, ye be late. What kept you? Jane said with an annoyed look as he entered the warm cottage. I’m near ready to leave for the meeting with Sarah. Your dinner is on the stove. I boiled a couple of turnips. There be no bread. I can’t charge any more at the store ‘till you get paid. I begged for a little flour on credit, but ye know how the shopkeepers are. They not care if we starve.

    It pained Benjamin to be reminded that he couldn’t keep bread on the table.

    Hold on a moment. Let me grab a bite and I’ll come with you, Benjamin said, shaking off the chill of the night. His clothes reeked of the smells from the tavern. "David Childs and I stopped off at the Dragon to read the Prophwyd y Jubili. I read the piece about California and I want to hear more."

    Jane turned to him with a surprised look on her face. Did I hear ye plainly? Mind you, ye not be teasing me, will ye?

    Benjamin didn’t bother to take off his coat. He reached for a spoon and took a few bites from the pot and turned to face his wife of twenty-three years.

    "Aye, my cariad, Benjamin exclaimed. I want to go with you. I read the Mormon articles at the Dragon. Indeed, some of their ideas sets the mind wondering! David and I decided to go with you and Sarah tonight."

    Benjamin saw a smile spring across her face. True, he had not paid much attention to her musings about the Saints. But he was glad to hear some of the enthusiasm return to her voice when she spoke of them. It lifted his heart to see her eyes sparkle a little again. He had not seen much spark since their beloved Catherine died six months before. Jane had slipped into such a melancholy that he despaired of being able to help her.

    Catherine’s death, like the others, seemed to take a part of Jane with them. First it was Anne. It was her heart, the doctor said. Then they lost Maude, but a few days old. Joanna went just before Catherine.

    Other than Elizabeth, their oldest, none of their daughters had lived to see their fifth birthday. At least they still had little Ester, who seemed to thrive and dance through life. Hopefully, she would be the exception - like Elizabeth.

    Each child’s death deepened Jane’s desperate search for the answers to the twists and tragedies of life. He knew she sought out every religious idea she could, seeking answers to questions Benjamin didn’t understand.

    Although he was annoyed when she went on about some new angle she perceived in each of her religions, he indulged her. He went along with her wishes when she wanted to leave the Methodist Church and return to the Church of Wales, a place she swore she would never take another step inside five years earlier. Perhaps that was why he had paid little attention so far to her ramblings about the Mormons.

    Be quick about ye, Jane said with impatience. The meeting begins promptly at 8:00 and it’s a fair walk. I’ll see that Evan stays with Ester.

    They walked briskly across the meadow and when they reached the bridge, Jane stopped and looked at Benjamin. It pleases me to see ye seek the faith, she said. I know ye not understand my feelings about religion, but I thank ye for trying.

    Benjamin put his arms around his wife. There were more creases on her face now, but to Benjamin she was as beautiful to him as the day he first saw her with his brother Philip. She was nearly as tall as him and wore her dark braids tucked in a bun at the base of her neck. I promised a long time ago, I would stand by ye, and I will the rest of my life. I will listen to what the Mormons have to say.

    He admitted to himself that he was more interested in what they had to say about the land than the religion, but he figured if they had a place so grand in America, then it was worth hearing more. Maybe they did have the answers. Maybe their land was proof their words were true. Was the Garden of Eden their Zion in America?

    Now, let’s hurry along lest we be late, Benjamin said to Jane.

    SKU-000432605_TEXT.pdf

    They crossed the bridge and quickened their pace toward the meeting hall. Jane put her arm through Benjamin’s, and thought how lucky she was to have him. He had been there for her when his brother Philip cast her aside because he was ashamed of her bad eye. Deep down she knew the truth and she had never shared it with Philip or Benjamin.

    Jane had known what she was since she was seven years old. She learned the truth on a trip to the market in Abedare with her mother. The old woman told her. That warm spring day, she and her mother had wandered through the crowded stalls and picked their way past noisy hawkers in search of some vegetables. When her mother stopped to haggle with a shop keeper for three carrots, Jane walked inquisitively toward an old woman leaning over a boiling pot holding hogs heads. She slowly stirred the contents with a large wooden spoon.

    The old woman seemed odd to Jane. Her tangled grey hair hung wildly around her gnarled face and her clothes were pieced together with strands of rope. As she stirred the pot, she mumbled something that sounded like a chant or a song. The old woman paused only long enough to let out an evil sounding cackle, as if she had just heard a private joke. Then she went back to her humming.

    What ye boilin’? Jane asked innocently when she walked up to the old woman.

    The old woman stopped humming and looked at Jane. Her face contorted in horror.

    Git! Git away from here, the old woman screamed at her, exposing her decaying black and green teeth. I’ll not have your curse spoilin’ my pot. Git!

    Curse? Jane asked in a quizzical voice and stumbled back a step.

    Ye eye! It’s a sure sign the devil be in ye. Ye be cursed! she yelled, then spit on the ground at Jane’s feet.

    Jane looked incredulously at the old woman. She knew her left eye wandered making it hard for her to focus when she looked directly at someone. But she had never heard it was a curse! She wasn’t sure how it felt to be cursed, but her pounding heart told her it wasn’t good.

    Then her mother appeared and pulled her away from the old woman. Don’t ye pay no mind to that crazy old woman, her mother admonished, herding her daughter down the street.

    Not until they reached the edge of the Black Forest did her mother slow her rapid retreat. Finally Jane stopped, took a deep breath and looked at her mother.

    Am I cursed?

    Of course not. That old woman isn’t right in the mind.

    But she said my funny eye is a sure sign of the curse. That the devil be in me!

    That be nonsense. Don’t listen to such tales about curses, her mother said firmly. She took Jane’s hand to lead her down the path, but Jane stopped again.

    The aunties talk about curses all the time, Jane said, referring to her mother’s older sisters. Seems to them, there be plenty of curses.

    And don’t listen to your aunties either, when they talk such nonsense. They be known to weave tall tales. You just have a wandering eye, nothing more. Now, let’s not tarry. We need to get these carrots in the pot for supper.

    From then on, Jane listened closely when her aunties talked about curses and cures, but she never heard them speak of her curse…her bad eye. She even laid out the Divine Stones like she heard the aunties talk about and turned them to the left in the moonlight. But they must have been for another curse because her eye still wandered. The devil didn’t leave. She was convinced that without a cure for her eye, the devil would remain inside her.

    She spoke of it to no one, not even Benjamin when they married. He must never know the truth for surely he would abandon her and blame her for the deaths of their daughters. Only Jane knew that she was cursed and had passed the curse to her female children. She had seen it in the eyes of her dying baby girls, if ever so slightly. Babies’ eyes tend to wander some, so it was the hardest to see in Maude, only a few days old. But she knew it was there. She had seen it plain in Catherine, Joanna and Anne. Jane knew the devil had stolen them.

    The fact that her sons showed no sign of it meant it was a curse passed from mothers to daughters, yet she wondered why her own mother showed no sign of a wandering eye. It terrified her to think of the future for Ester. How Elizabeth had survived was a puzzle she needed to solve. Perhaps if she looked hard enough, she would find the cure, or the answers as to why Elizabeth had escaped the curse and to prevent it from harming Ester.

    She sought out the words of Christianity in the Church of Wales and the Methodist Church, but found no answers. They didn’t even believe in curses so she couldn’t very well talk to them about her problem.

    The lights of the meeting hall appeared ahead. Jane felt her heart pound with anticipation. When she had first heard the Mormon Missionary, Captain Dan Jones speak, she saw her salvation. Indeed, the words he spoke about the Mormons rang true. Captain Jones said there has been no true church since the apostles and only now had God revealed the truths to the Mormons.

    Jane reasoned that was why her earlier religious pursuits had failed and was confident that now, she had finally found the answers to her prayers. Surely, if she heeded the words of the Mormons, the curse would lose its powers.

    SKU-000432605_TEXT.pdf

    Benjamin and Jane met David Childs and his wife Sarah at the door. They entered the packed room and stood against the back wall. Benjamin looked around and was surprised to see several people he knew. Some were neighbors, others shop keepers from town and several he recognized from the mine.

    Captain Jones boldly made his entrance. With quick strides, he moved to the pulpit, taking off his coat as he walked. His piercing blue eyes swept the room as he raised the Book of Mormon over his head with one hand and motioned with the other to get everyone’s attention. The scuffling and murmurs grew quiet as the crowd focused on him.

    Benjamin leaned against the wall and looked at Captain Jones. He recalled what he had read about the man in the Prophwyd y Jubili. Captain Dan Jones was a seaman who had left his native Wales in 1837 and spent time as a steamboat captain on the Mississippi River in America. On the river, he encountered Mormon missionaries and was baptized in the icy waters of the Mississippi. A few months later, he met church founder, Joseph Smith, who counseled him to return to Wales and tell the story of the Saints to his countrymen. Now Captain Jones was leading the first organized Welsh migration to the Mormon Zion in America.

    Tis grand to see so many of you here tonight, Captain Jones said with enthusiasm. It gladdens God to know so many are seeking the truth!

    Benjamin watched Captain Jones for a few moments. The article he had read said he possessed many of the same characteristics as the Church founder, Joseph Smith, whose charisma set him apart from other religious leaders of the times.

    Tonight I want to tell you how the true word of God came to the Latter-Day Saints through Joseph Smith. T’was the apostles themselves who appeared to Joseph Smith and told him where to find the sacred book, the Book of Mormon. Only Prophet Smith was able to transcribe it …

    Looking around the room, Benjamin saw how convincing the fiery orator was with the Welshmen. Most sat on the edge of their seats, hanging on his every word, not taking their eyes off the flamboyant missionary.

    The end is near! Captain Jones boomed to the crowd. It is prophesized that the world as we know it will cease to exist in the coming days as punishment for all the non-believers. But you can be saved! The Lord came to Joseph Smith and warned him of the coming destruction. He instructed the Prophet to lead his people to the New Jerusalem…

    Benjamin saw the look of panic on the faces in the room. Some grasped their chest in fear while others pulled their loved ones closer. Captain Jones continued for over an hour, explaining the doctrines of the Church and the possibility of sanctuary for the newcomers. Benjamin listened intently, but after a while, he found himself shifting back and forth on his legs, weary from twelve hours in the mine that day. The room grew stuffy and someone opened a shuttered window.

    Benjamin wanted Captain Jones to talk about the land in America. To him, that was the proof of their words. As if reading Benjamin’s thoughts, Captain Jones finished his sermon on church teachings and switched to the Mormon settlement.

    And this great Church has provided a place for each and every one of you. This heaven on earth is Zion, our New Jerusalem, deep in the American West and far from the interference of state and the unbelievers. It is a place where you can live your life in a Christian manner, and your labor will bear incredible fruits.

    Benjamin noticed most of the people leaned even closer to hear Captain Jones when he spoke of their home in America. Benjamin looked at Jane and saw a smile cross her face.

    In this New Jerusalem, everyone lives prosperous, healthy lives, and they work hard to provide for all. All Saints will have land in Zion and they will be freeholders…it is the Garden of Eden. Not only will every family own their land, but every family will have a year’s worth of food stored in case of hardship. No one will know hunger.

    Captain Jones stopped with a jolt and pointed to the ceiling, then yelled to the crowd. Look, look, can’t you see it? It’s there! Waiting for you. The look on his face begged them to imagine this sacred place in America. Close your eyes…now reach back in your mind and imagine living in the land of your dreams. There! You can see it now.

    Benjamin looked around and the entire audience followed Captain Jones’ finger and looked toward the ceiling, trying to see Captain Jones’ imaginary dream. Even Benjamin found himself straining to see in his mind what Captain Jones said awaited them. Occasionally, a gasp or whisper could be heard as Captain Jones expounded on the abundance.

    Then Captain Jones brushed the hair from his eyes and lowered his voice, signaling everyone to listen closely. It was clear to Benjamin that what he was about to say was of utmost importance.

    In order to accomplish these goals we must submit to the authority of the Church hierarchy and through their guidance we will conquer the non-believers. You cannot question their authority. For the Lord has only spoken to Joseph Smith and given him guidance through the Book of Mormon.

    Through the windows, Benjamin could see only darkness and knew the hour was late. Captain Jones finished his talk, ending the meeting with an announcement.

    I have the best of good news for my fellow countrymen tonight. We have received official approval from the Mormon Church for the Welsh Saints to emigrate after the first of the year. Many are already preparing and I encourage you, one and all to work hard and save as much as you can to make the journey!

    Benjamin looked at Jane and they both smiled. From that moment, he knew this might be their chance to find a better life and he intended to explore the ideas of the Latter-Day Saints and their land in America.

    Those among you with greater means, I urge you to be generous to your Brothers and Sisters so as many that desire can leave Babylon for the promised land of Zion, Captain Jones said. Keep the commandments of your Father, and come to his Zion; there the earth will bring forth her fruit and you will be rich beyond your imagination.

    Captain Jones raised his arms two or three times toward heaven, then swept them above the crowds as if to bless them. Slowly, the people filed out of the hall and disappeared into the mists. The moon was gone now, and the blackness of the night pulled Benjamin and Jane into solitary thoughts as they made their way to their farm.

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    When they reached the edge of town and started up the path towards the Black Forest, Jane took Benjamin’s hand.

    It meant a lot to me that ye went to hear Captain Jones tonight. His words are powerful. The more I hear, the more it seems plain and fitting for our lives, she said.

    Benjamin stopped and put his hands on her shoulders. He too felt a strange uplifting. But he was skeptical. I’m not sure about their religion, but if they have this place in America where everyone owns land and they grow bountiful crops…well, I guess that would be proof enough for me.

    Oh Benjamin, do you think we could ever find a way to go? She grabbed him by the sleeve of his coat.

    Just thinking about that land puts me in the mind of considering it, Benjamin said. But, it would cost a fortune for the passage. I’m not sure we could ever get that kind of money. He drew his hands down his face in contemplation and paced back and forth in front of Jane.

    We also need to look hard on the dangers. It would be a perilous journey, halfway around the world. No telling what can happen. Ships are lost crossing the ocean and once we make it to the American Continent, we would still have to travel to the far West. There be no telling the dangers… I’ve read where travelers crossing the continent encounter vicious savages along the way.

    But Captain Jones said the Mormons have special powers to keep them safe, Jane pleaded.

    And you believe him? Benjamin asked. Some say their religion is a trick to get everyone on board the ship, only to be sold as slaves along the way.

    Nonsense! Jane retorted. How can you doubt a man like Captain Jones? He’s our savior, can’t you see that? He would never let harm come to us.

    And what of the children? Benjamin said, changing the subject. We could never leave them.

    Jane pulled her shawl tighter around her. I wouldn’t entertain the thought of going if we didn’t all agree to the journey. I not be leaving any of my kinfolk behind.

    We might convince the children to come, but what about your Mam and my Tad? Our brothers and sisters? I doubt they would commit to go. If we go to America, like as not, we’ll never see them again.

    Jane said nothing for awhile as they continued on the path toward their cottage. It seemed so final, the way Benjamin put it, but she knew he was right. Could she part with her family forever? The price of the voyage seemed more than Jane could bear.

    Her mind wandered to the cemetery in Abedare where her baby girls were buried. Since their deaths, she had found peace picking wild flowers and bringing them to their graves. When the longing came down on her, she would linger at their graves and hum melancholy tunes. The journey would mean she would never again sit quietly at their final resting places and dream of what they might have been, and pray they would forgive her for her curse.

    I know what ye say is right… I’m not sure I could stand the parting, Jane whispered. But inside she was torn between the Mormons, who might have the answers to her prayers and leaving behind the graves of her daughters and the family that would remain.

    Well, it’s something to think about, Benjamin said. I’ll talk to the children and see if they would even think about leaving. But we must decide if this is what we really want. We will have to ponder the question hard. I’ll see what I can find out…if it might be possible.

    Jane nodded, unable to speak through her rising tears when she thought of the consequences of leaving.

    Part 2:

     Liverpool

    1849

    Emigration to California – February 13, 1849 – The Latter Day Saints – On Tuesday, Swansea was quite enlivened in consequence of the arrival of several wagons loaded with luggage making their way to the port for the purpose of proceeding to Liverpool in the Troubador streamer, where a ship is in readiness to transport them next week to the glittering regions of California. This goodly company is under the command of a popular Saint, known as Captain Dan Jones…although many were well to do, they disposed of their possessions, to get to California, their New Jerusalem as they deem it, where their fanaticism teaches them to believe they will escape from the general destruction and conflagration that is shortly to envelop this earth…it is due them, however, to state that they are far from being smitten by that mania for gold, the discovery of which has imparted to the modern El Dorado of notoriety of late…instead they intend to visit the agricultural regions to reside in peace and harmony…their departure was witnessed by hundreds of spectators, and whilst the steamer gaily passed on down the river, the Saints commenced singing a favorite hymn.

    The Cambria-Swansea Newspaper

    Swansea, Wales

    Call of Zion

    Chapter 2

    Quick! This way. Don’t tarry! Captain Jones yelled out to his Mormon flock as they disembarked from the steamer, Troubador. It had brought them from the southern Welsh town of Swansea to the bustling port of Liverpool on February 15, 1849.

    Hurry along now! See to your belongings, Captain Jones instructed loudly over the noisy sounds of the port. Mind you! Watch out for the sharpers! Remember, they may offer to carry your baggage for you, but their intentions are to steal it!

    Jane steadied herself for a moment at the doorway to the plank. Coal dust from other unloading ships created a hazy view of the Port. All manner of ships from schooners to fishing boats occupied the docks. She almost gagged from the overpowering smell of hot tar, open sewage and fish, combined with the smell of salt water. Her seasickness had turned her weathered face a chalky white. Like most of the Saints, Jane had never been aboard a steamer and had been stricken violently with seasickness on their short crossing to Liverpool, a fact that did not escape her when she visualized the journey across the Atlantic to America.

    Her husband, Benjamin, their sons Thomas, William, and Evan and son-in-law John were handling their baggage, so it was up to her and the women to disembark alone. Jane stood up straight in her best dress, a dark frock with a wide cape and ruffled cuffs. A crocheted bonnet held her hair in place.

    Jane’s slightly pursed lips gave no indication of the revulsion in her stomach when the smells assaulted her senses, because she felt it was up to her to lead the others. Just move forward! Follow Captain Jones…

    Jane turned and motioned to her twenty-three year old daughter, Elizabeth, and her two daughters-in-law, Eliza and Merrien to follow. She reached to take her four-year-old daughter Ester by the hand, took a deep breath and willed herself to walk down the plank.

    Eliza, carrying Jane’s two-year-old grandson, Richard, stepped forward to follow her mother-in-law. At the entrance to the gang plank she stopped. The smells and confusion of the port brought her to a stand still. Her eyes were bright with tears about to spill and her brows were squeezed with worry. Elizabeth, tall and graceful like her mother, observed the same scene and stopped in her tracks. Merrien, however, came up between them and took each sister-in-law by the arm.

    What wonderful excitement this is! she exclaimed as she gazed out at the activity of the waterfront. With determination, she guided Eliza and Elizabeth down the plank of the steamer behind her mother-in-law.

    Peddlers of ribbons, oranges and candy hawked their wares amid the racket of baggage being transferred and shouting passengers. Cargo moved by horse-drawn wagons down the dusty roads leading to the ships. Liverpool had a carnival tone in the air. To her right, Jane saw street players swarming the arriving passengers, playing flutes, fiddles and bagpipes. Children yelled and dogs barked, both running haphazardly among the people. The shouts and chanting of the sailors were unlike anything Jane had ever heard. It was hard to concentrate on Captain Jones’ instructions.

    This way, please, we will march together to the Music Hall, Captain Jones said above the cacophony. Hearing Captain Jones’ words of encouragement, Jane felt a renewed sense of energy and hurried ahead.

    Jane looked at Captain Jones and felt that stirring of euphoria that overcame her the first time she heard him speak in Abedare. From that first meeting she wanted to follow him to the new Mormon settlement in America. But she had struggled to come to grips with what following him would mean. In time, she made peace with the fact that she could no longer visit the graves of her daughters and would miss her family who would not emmigrate, but she consoled herself by reasoning that it was important for Benjamin and her to lead the way so the rest would soon escape the hard life of the mines and the coming doom that Captain Jones preached was at hand and join them in America.

    Once Jane had come to this decision, her challenge had been to convince Benjamin and the others to undertake the journey. It had not been easy, especially with her daughter-in-law, Merrien, who Jane felt was stubborn, outspoken and held too tight to her opinions.

    Jane clearly remembered the day she and Benjamin had announced to the family that they were joining the Latter-Day Saints. The occasion was a Sunday dinner for the whole family at their cottage in Abedare.

    Supper’s on the table. Best you come while it be hot, Jane announced to her family. They followed her to the kitchen and found their seats at the long mahogany table. Benjamin offered the blessing and then they filled their plates with a rare lamb stew and helped themselves to the warm bread.

    For awhile, the conversation had centered on the new dry goods store that had opened in town as well as the latest outputs at the mine. Then, Benjamin cleared his throat to indicate he wanted their attention.

    Your Mam and I, we’ve something to talk to you about, Benjamin began. By the tone of his voice everyone around the table stopped eating and looked at him.

    You see, Mam and I have been attending the meetings of the Church of Jesus Christ Latter-Day Saints, the Mormons. ‘Tis wonderful their message and we’d like to tell ye about it.

    He went on to explain the discovery of the Book of Mormon by the Prophet Joseph Smith and their desire to set up a permanent home in the American West. Then, in a grave voice, Benjamin told them what he learned about the coming conflagration of the world. "Captain Jones said the Prophets have proclaimed that the end is near for this world we live in…. God will banish all the non-believers… that we must all seek the truth through the Mormon Church or we will be banished to a hell on earth and never escape our harsh lives in Wales.

    He finished his speech about the Church and then looked around the table. So what say ye? Would ye give their message a listen? I know they have meetings up at Methyr. Ye could attend there and hear the word. We be happiest to see our whole family join, Benjamin concluded.

    Thomas and Eliza looked surprised by the announcement, but William and Merrien looked downright shocked. No one spoke, unsure how to respond.

    Thomas, not inclined to intellectual or religious discussions, hoped to limit the conversation. He broke the silence first. Well, I for one will give it a listen. I’ve heard some of the stories about the American West and I’d be happy to find a way to get there. What do you say Eliza? We’ll go and hear what they have to say?

    Aye, aye, we will go. Can’t see the harm in just hearing what they have to preach, Eliza replied, then folded her napkin on the table.

    That’s settled, Thomas said and clapped his hands together. Now let’s go have some of that special cider I know Tad has in the cellar!

    Merrien slammed her fork on the table, startling everyone.

    "I can’t believe what my ears be telling me. You can’t be serious about these Mormons! Have ye all

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