In February 1853, I received word that the ship International would sail on the twenty- third and for me to be in Liverpool on the eighteenth.

The winter had been very mild and I had enjoyed myself in hunting and visiting around with my friends and relatives. Snow fell about the middle of the month and was on the ground when I received notice to go.

I made my farewell visits and spent the evening of the seventeenth at home with my father and mother. The next morning before they were up, I kissed them all goodbye and that same evening arrived in Liverpool.

The next few days were spent in getting our berths on board the ship, getting our luggage on board, paying our fare and getting all necessary tinware, mattresses etc. to use on shipboard.

My mother had given me a pail for water, a pair of blankets and some other things, so that I had only to get a mattress and a very poor one it proved to be. The tinware which was bought was of the cheapest sort and was worn out long before we reached our destination.

Our party was composed of an old man named John Doggett, three young ladies, Misses Rosa [A.] and Nancy [M.] Orrell, Eliza Hester [Esther] and myself.

When it came time to pay for the passage, none of them seemed to have enough money and all borrowed from me. I loaned them altogether about thirty dollars and I think that five dollars was all of it, that I ever saw again. As a consequence, when I arrived at my journey's end, I was dead broke and had holes in the toes of my shoes.

On the twenty-fifth day of February, the ship was towed out of the dock into the River Mersey and dropped anchor. We remained here two days, while all were ordered on deck, answered to our names and were examined by a doctor before the ship could get her clearance papers.

While we were anchored an old gentleman from Wales died and was taken ashore for burial. [p.10]

Our organization was then accomplished. Christopher Arthur from Newport was appointed president and John Lyons [Lyon] and Richard Waddington counselors and Elder [George] Sims as clerk.

The bunks were divided into wards, with a president over each and others were appointed to see that the beds were made and everything kept clean and neat during the voyage.

A watch was appointed to see that all hands were in their bunks by ten o'clock at night. We had three London policemen on board and they were assigned to police duty.

On board most emigrant ship, the officers of the ship look after these things, but by the terms of the chapter of the ship made by the Liverpool superintendent, these duties were undertaken by the passengers themselves.

Most of us were in the steerage. A few were in what was called the second cabin, for which something more was paid, but after we were out to sea, the steerage proved to be the better ventilated and the more comfortable of the two.

I think that we drew our rations, consisting of hardtack, rice, tea, sugar, salt, beef or pork once a week. We [were] given four quarts of water each day and had to get it early in the morning.

As soon as we were organized we commenced a routine which was about as follows: up at daylight and get breakfast. Then came morning prayers in all the wards, then it was sweep and clean up. After that we could promenade on deck, sing or do whatever we chose until time to get dinner.

The cooking was done by two young men in a little house on deck called the galley. In the morning they would they would [SIC] have two big boilers of hot water and those who wished tea, would take some of their cold water and exchange it for some hot water.

The meat was all boiled together, each person tying a wooden or tin tag with his name or the number of this berth on it to his piece. Rice was tied in a bag and cooked the same way.

If a person wanted anything fried or cooked in any other way, they would have to wait their turn.

Most of the passengers took fresh meat, fresh bread, butter and many other things with them, so that we didn't suffer for anything to eat.

On the twenty-seventh day of February after breakfast, the ship weighed anchor and a tug took her in tow, down the river several miles.

I was below sweeping at the time, but soon went on deck.

While the tug had hold of us, the ship settled down to business and so did most of the passengers.

At first we were a little dizzy, then sick at the stomach. The crowd on deck soon thinned out and by night a large part of the human cargo was learning what it was to be seasick and the next ten days were lost time to me.

The first morning at sea was a little rough and some of the timid ones thought the ship would sink. I remember some of the sailors came downstairs to stow away the anchor chains and someone asked them, if it was not dangerous that way the ship was rolling.

One of the sailors made reply, "If it keeps this up for twenty-four hours the catfish will be eating you," while in fact, there was no danger at all, but a sailor, like a cowboy, likes to play it off on a tenderfoot. [p.11]

During the first week or so, the cooks had an easy time of it, very few having much appetite and the deck was not crowded. I used to crawl up on deck and get my arms through the ratline and try to throw up my boots.

My best description of seasickness is that, the first day or two you are afraid you are going to die, the rest of the time, you don't care how soon you do.

All things come to an end, however, and so did seasickness to most of us and then we fell into our regular routine again.

We had contrary winds nearly all the way. After we had been out of post six weeks, the captain said that he could sail back to Liverpool in six days and said that if the wind did not change within a week we would have to go on short rations until we did.

Maybe you don't think there was some earnest praying done for the wind to change, as it was a characteristic of the Mormon religion to pray for the thing needed at the time, so that all our prayers now were that God would change the wind and bring us all safe home to Zion.

Well, whether the Lord changed the wind or not, I do not know, but the day before our rations were to be served out, we found in the morning when we awoke that we had fair winds and plenty of it. I remember that the first mate said, "The Liverpool gals [PROBABLY MEANING, galls] had let go of the ropes and the New Orleans gals got hold of it," and the ship was going through the water like a race horse.

On the sixth day of April, that being the anniversary of the organization of the Mormon Church, it was decided to celebrate the day in grand style in shipboard.

Committees were appointed and a big program arranged. After marching and counter- marching across the deck, the Assembly was called to order by the president and singing, recitations and speeches were the order of the day.

We had some splendid singers on board and some pretty fair poets and with original and selected songs and recitations, the day passed very pleasantly. While we were in the midst of our celebration, we passed close to another large ship homeward bound.

One of the songs composed on that occasion was a description of the officers on the ship and as I have said nothing about them, will give the parts of the song. I do not remember all of it but will give the parts that I remember.

It was set to the tune of Yankee Doodle and you may judge when four hundred were singing with all their [-] we at least made some noise, whether it was very musical or not.

The exact number that started from Liverpool was four hundred and nineteen and the song was as follows:"On board the International, all joyful and lighthearted bound Zionward,four hundred Saints, from Liverpool we started.We're English, Irish, Scotch, and Welsh, assembled here togetherresolved to do the will of God, whatever the wind or weather."Now Elder Arthur's counselors, I wish you all to know it,Are Elder Lyons, from Glasgow, the celebrated poet.And Elder Richard Waddington from London's famous citywho has been seasick all the way, which has drawn forth our pity.
The captain's name is David Brown, he comes from Massachusetts
(I do not remember this line)
Of course he is 'tarnation cute, but he is honest, rather
And will in time become a Saint and serve our Heavenly Father [p.12]
The first mate's name is Albert Howe, the second is Arch. Campell
The third mate is John Marston and then comes a sort of scramble;
That is to say, a motley crew, called sailors and ship riggers
Amounting to about eighteen, Swedes, Germans, Danes and niggers.
And last not least, the carpenter, Carl Weserland, a Swede; Sir;
The first of all the ship's company to embrace our Holy Creed, Sir.

After each verse came the chorus,Then sing aloud, ye Saints of God in one united chorusOld Babylon, we've left behind and Zion is for [before] us.

It must be remembered that all nations of the world were called by the Mormon's, Babylons and the inhabitants were called Gentiles and the average Mormon had no more love for a gentile, than the old Israelites had in their day.

After the wind changed we made our way rapidly to the south and west, the weather getting much warmer.

The women folk went to work making tents and wagon covers. The ducking from which they were made, having been brought from England. One or two men did the cutting and the rest did the sewing. I think about twenty-five tents and wagon covers were made.

About this time some of the sailors wanted to be baptized and the captain had a large tank brought on deck for the purpose. It was later used for a bathtub, so that anyone wishing to take a bath in sea water could do so.

The captain was the first to be baptized. He was followed by the second mate, then the sailors and the rest of the officers, until by the time we reached New Orleans the captain, the second mate and the entire crew, with one exception belonged to the Mormon Church.

The carpenter, second mate, and several of the sailors went through to Salt Lake with us.

I think the captain had another object, rather than religion in view, because when we reached New Orleans he persuaded a young and pretty girl to stay with him. She went one trip with him but died of yellow fever the next time the ship came to New Orleans.

About the seventeenth of April we sighted land. It was the Great Abasko, one of the West India Islands, at what was called "The Hole in the Wall." The channel is quite narrow at that place and I remember soon after that we passed two coral reefs, called the "Big and the Little Isaac's."

It was not long until we could see breaders a short distance off on each side of the ship and without any accident about the twenty-fourth of April, we arrived at the mouth of the Mississippi River.

Ours had been a remarkable voyage. Other ships had baptized a few sailors, but to convert the entire crew, with just one exception, was something that had never happened before.

When we arrived at the mouth of the river, the water instead of being nearly green became yellow. The sailor told us it was the Mississippi River and was fresh and fit to drink which we found to be true.

Here a tug took hold of us and towed us over the bar, then took another vessel on the other side of her and we proceeded up the river without dropping anchor. [p.13]

The land on either side of the river for some distance was low and swampy, but as we neared New Orleans orange groves began to appear and it was quite a sight to us to see ripe and green fruit and blossoms on the trees at the same time.

I think it was on the evening of the twenty-fourth of April, that we tied up at the levee in New Orleans, having made the trip in about nine weeks.

We had no sickness, except seasickness, had one marriage, two or three births, so that we arrived with more on board than we had when we started.

Here the first part of our journey came to an end and a good many of us thought that the worst was over, but we were badly mistaken, as we found before our journey was really ended.

At this point we found a Mormon from Salt Lake City by the name of John Brown. He was sent by Brigham Young to look after the interests of the emigrants to charter steamboats to take us to Saint Louis and he was thoroughly on to his job.

One of the first orders given to us, was not to talk about slavery. Uncle Tom's Cabin had been published the year before we left England and as was natural, our sympathies were with the Negroes, but New Orleans at that time, was a poor place to talk it, hence our caution.

Not withstanding the warning, I remember that a man named Miller from Scotland got into a very heated argument on the levee, which was soon stopped by Brown.

Here our crowd was divided, some of the well-to-do taking passage on the "Alex Scott," at that time the fastest boat on the lower river.

The bulk of us were assigned to the "Liah Tuna" which came alongside the ship and our baggage was skidded from the ship to the boat, a very quick way to get it transferred.

At that time there was very little tariff on foreign goods, so that the examination of our goods was not much more than a formality. About the twenty-eighth we started up the river to St. Louis.

As soon as we were started a watch was set and changed every two hours. The entire lower deck was chartered, so that we had the right of way. There was a big crew of deck hands an it was to prevent any stealing on their part that the watch was set.

On some the entire boat would be chartered and no other passengers were allowed on board without permission.

On one boat about a month [before] of us, a man named Jacob Gates was president and permission was granted to take a few on board at a way landing. One of these began to misbehave and Gates told him to shut up or he wold have him put ashore. The fellow replied, "You are not captain of this boat," to which Gates replied "No, but I am a bigger man on this boat than the captain and if you do not believe it, just try me" and to save being put ashore, he concluded that he had found his match and had better keep still.

In those days it was almost an unbroken forest on either side of the Mississippi River. The towns were not large and occasionally there would be a cleared field. About three hundred miles from New Orleans, the boat stopped to unload some railroad iron for the Mobile Railroad. It was at a clearing. There was a log shanty near the shore and on the sides were nailed some big snakes. These were the first snakes that any of us had ever seen, but have seen and killed many since that time.

Our boat was a slow one and one of the songs that the roustabouts sang was,

"Fire away, by bonny boys and keep the boiler hot,

I'll give you fifty dollars if You'll pass the 'Alex Scott.'" [p.14]

Although the "Alex Scott" left New Orleans the day before we did, we met her on her return trip before we reached St. Louis.

We met with no accident going up the river and on the sixth day of May we arrived in St. Louis.

I had some friends living in St. Louis and made them a hurried call, made a few purchases, especially powder and shot.

When I returned to the boat found that the "Jeanne Deans" an upper Mississippi River boat was along side. Our things were soon transferred and some time the next night we landed at Keokuk, Iowa, thus having completed our water journey without losing a single person of death.

When morning came it found most of our baggage in a large warehouse on the levee and we began to look for the camp. It was located on a bluff about half a mile north of the business part of Keokuk.

At that time the business part of Keokuk was confined to about one street, which I think ran west from the landing.

The Mormon camp consisted of a long street with wagons on either side of it. We were shown our camp, which consisted of about twenty wagons with bows on them, that was all.

As we belonged to the ten pound company, we were told to divide ourselves into groups of ten and each ten to take possession of a wagon.

During the voyage I had become acquainted with a man from Newport Pugnell, in Bedfordshire, the county adjoining the one from which I had come by the name of John Bignell.

He was a man every inch a man and had a wife and little boy, named Sammy. He proposed that we go together and pickup another family to make our ten.

We picked up a family by the name of Butler. There was a man and wife and six of seven children, but as two of the Butler children were small and the Bignell boy just a little fellow, we only averaged ten adults.

Many times on the trip, we wished that we had packed some other family. Butler was a shoemaker and was fit for nothing else, while his wife was entirely out of her element on the plains. They had two good sized boys, but one of them was too lazy to eat, the other one, Jack did fairly well.

As soon as we were supplied with a wagon cover and tent, Bignell said that his wife and child and Mrs. Butler and their small children would sleep in the wagon and the rest of us in the tent.

From that time on I pitched the tent with the help of one of the others. Some bacon and flour were served out to us and we commenced camp life.

In the meantime some wagons had been hauling our goods from the river to the camp and we picked out what belonged to us and put them in the tent or wagon.

I remember that it was very muddy. We had lots of rain, so that our first acquaintance with camp life was not very flattering.

We went to the timber to get wood for the fire. Eggs were cheap in Keokuk, so we bought some eggs, fried bacon and eggs and made pancakes and felt like we had a feast.

Bignell's and I messed together and the Butler's by themselves, except when Mrs. Bignell would take pity on them and help out. [p.15]

After being cramped up on shipboard for so long, it felt good to have plenty of room to run about and we enjoyed it to the full. After we gathered plenty of wood and water, we went fishing and hunting and thus two weeks passed.

Some of the camps moved off and we became anxious to be on the move, but were told that our cattle had not come.

Men were down in Missouri buying them and had to go farther than they expected to hence our delay.

While we were camped here a lot of us concluded that we would visit Nauvoo, Illinois, from which the Mormons had been driven seven years before.

One morning we started up the river to Montrose, then crossed the river on a ferryboat and were in Nauvoo.

We visited the ruins of the Mormon temple who had hardly finished it before they were driven away. In fact, quite a number of the big men had left, butt recrossed the river to assist in the dedication. A few nights after it was dedicated it was burned.

The Mormons always claimed that the mob which drove them out burned it, but I was afterward told that it was burned by orders from Brigham Young, so that the gentiles could not learn their secrets.

We visited the house that Joseph Smith built, as he said by direct revelation from God. We found his widow living there, but she had married again.

She told us that Brigham Young had no right to lead the church, that he was a false prophet. They might just as well have tried to turn the Mississippi river up stream as to make us believe that. Our faith was too strong, so after wandering around until we were tired we went back to camp.

A few days later the cattle came and then the fun began. Mr. Bignell had been a teamster in England, so he and I went among the cattle and picked two yoke of oxen which we chained together and called "Our team." We then picked out two yoke of cows and drove them out of the corral and began to break them.

It was easy for him to do, but lots of the men had never driven a team in their lives. They did not know Gee from Haw and could not put on, nor take off a yoke. They could not get their own oxen near the wagon tongue and it took lots of patience, as many of the men were greener than the cattle.

It would take two or three men to each team, some on one side and some on the other and why there were not more accident is something that I could never understand.

After driving the cattle around for a few days and getting the men used to their teams, about the first day of June we broke camp and started our long journey, overland.

We drove out a short distance where the grass was good and there a meeting was called for organization.

Jacob Gates was appointed president and he chose Richard Waddington and a man named Noyer to be the Captain of fifty, that is, each one would be captain of half the wagons. . . . [p.16]

. . . The second day we ascended the Big Mountain. For four miles the road was a gradual incline, but near the top it was very steep and we had to double teams.

Once on the top, we felt like I know the Israelites of old must have felt when they arrived in sight of the Promised Land, for Lo! through a cleft in the mountains, we caught a glimpse of the valley, with the mountains to the west.

The descent was very steep and part of the way down, we had to rough lock the wagons.

The next day we entered the valley, through Emigration Canyon and encamped that night on the Public Square in Salt Lake City, the Mormon's Zion, for which we had traveled so far almost eight thousand miles. [p.25]

From the twenty-fifth of February until June the first by water and from June first until September thirtieth overland, a distance of fourteen hundred miles and almost every mile of it on foot. . . . .[p.26]

BIB: Forsdick, Stephen. Autobiography (Ms 164), pp. 10-16, 25-26. (CHL)
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