. . . "I can truthfully say, I fasted and prayed for two days and nights. At that length of time I was fully converted to this religion. I was offered money more than once, also a trip to France, if I could only forget, but this was impossible. Uncle Standart offered me partnership in his large establishment when he heard I was leaving for America, but I refused. To Utah I was going.
"Mother came to me and said, 'Give up this terrible religion or me!' and hoped the ship would sink before I stepped in it, and that she would rather follow behind me to my grave than let me leave England.
"In the year 1867, my father decided to emigrate to Utah. I was impressed to join him, as they were preaching so strong to come to Zion.
"One beautiful moonlight night, the 29th of June, 1867 , I bade goodbye to my mother, brother, sister, and other kin at the Great Marble Arch. Mother was still pleading for me to return to her. As I kissed her goodbye, she fainted, the others biting their lips to keep from crying.
"We sailed the following morning to Liverpool, and the next day for American shores, on the good ship Minnesota. The capacity of the ship was 1300 people.
"While the anchor was being lifted, the Saints sang, "Come, Come, Ye Saints," while people on shore were waving their hats and handkerchiefs for their last adieus. [p.66]
"Miss Rhoda Watson, later becoming Brother Smith's wife, was from the same branch as I and asked me to sit in a lifeboat which was on the deck of the ship. I said that I wished that I could compose some lines of poetry to send back home to my mother. She readily picked it up and together we composed the following:
Farewell to my mother(By Emily Pickering and Rhoda Watson July 2, 1867)
My mother dear the time draws nigh, when you and I must part.
It draws from me a heavy sigh, I write with aching heart.
My native land is dear to me, but thou art dearer still.
Yet I shall gladly haste away, it is my Father's will.
And in my Father's own due time, I'll gladly haste away.
Old England has no charms for me, I have no which to stay.
We're going where we can make a home, far in the distant west,
Where want and misery is not known, the weary there can rest.
And when we are in Deseret, my love for you the same shall be.
Your kindness I shall ne'er forget. Mother farewell, remember me.
And when in our mountain home, our friends we'll bear in mind.
Our constant prayer will be for them in darkness left behind.
And now I leave my native land, with out a parting sigh.
Home of my youth and childhood, forever now, goodbye.
"On my father's birthday, fourth of July, we were mid-ocean. Cannons were fired that day into the water. At [-] o'clock that evening, my father and I were invited by the Captain into the First Cabin Passengers to dinner and spent the evening. The cabin was like a grand hotel. We enjoyed the evening immensely.
"One of the most beautiful sights on the ocean was the sunset and the sunrise.
"Sunday, July 14, 1867, at [-] o'clock, we anchored on U.S. shores, but we were held all day Sunday on the ship, as the doctors didn't arrive until Monday morning to give [-] examinations. At the next stop, Castle Garden, we changed [-] our money at the depot.
"At last we started on [-] long trip westward, riding miles in cattle cars, standing all the way. At Omaha, we were told we had time for lunch in [-] restaurant.
"My father accompanied Elder Ezra T. Clark, a return missionary, myself, and [-] girlfriends went to dinner. When we were going back to the depot the two men fell as if they had been shot, it proving to be sunstroke. Brother Clark never regained consciousness. They put the body on the train and went two or three stations further. They called for a donation [-] purchase a metal casket. Father hearing this, was sent into unconsciousness for twenty-four hours. Seven elders gathered around him, asked the Lord [-] spare his life, which he did [-] that time.
"Three times we were left different places in the depot. We girls would go out and get water but were pushed back. Sometimes [p. 67] we were left. We knew we could catch the next train as the immigration train was always slow.
Arriving at Laramie [Fort Laramie] the Mormon boys surrounded the train. They had their belts and caps on. I was very frightened, thinking we were surely captured, when they quickly explained that they were the Mormon boys, Salt Lake Teamsters, driving the horses for us. . . .[p.68]
. . . "After arriving in Salt Lake, my heels and feet for months, would gather in sores and break out, from the hard trip and walking in saleratus.
"At Echo Canyon the teamsters fired their revolvers so we could hear the echo. The Mormon boys were working in the middle of Echo Canyon building the railroad. My husband was among them, but I was not aware of it then.
"We arrived in Salt Lake the last of August, 1867. We were directed to the Tithing Office. Some friends of my father, the surname, Stringfellows, came and took us to their home. . . . [p.69]
BIB: Anderson, Emily Pickering [Reminiscences] In Denmark to Manti: The History of William Anderson and Family. (Salt Lake City, Utah: Compiled and published by James L. Anderson, n.d.) pp. 66-69. (CHL)