Biography and Family Record of Lorenzo Snow. Eliza R. Snow
of my friends, in the warmest expressions possible, complimented me and my family for the peculiar taste and ingenuity displayed in those unique and inexpensive arrangements.
The hours were enlivened, and happily passed, as we served up a dish of succotash, composed of short speeches, full of life and sentiment, spiced with enthusiasm, appropriate songs, recitations, toasts, conundrums, exhortations, etc., etc. At the close, all seemed perfectly satisfied, and withdrew, feeling as happy as though they were not homeless.
In Pisgah, my family was composed of the following individuals: Mary Adaline (my eldest wife); Hyrum, Orville and Jacob, her sons by a former husband; Charlotte, Sarah Ann, Harriet Amelia. Porter and John Squires continued as members of my family until we arrived in Salt Lake Valley, and, in fact, till I returned from my Italian mission.
All of the women above mentioned were sealed to me as my wives in the Temple at Nauvoo, where we all received our second anointings.
In Pisgah, Charlotte gave birth to a daughter (my firstborn), which we named Leonora, after my eldest sister. Also Adaline gave birth to a daughter, named Rosetta, after my mother.
Little Leonora was taken sick and died, and with deep sorrow we bore her remains to their silent resting place, to be left alone, far from her father and the mother who gave her birth. Sarah Ann also gave birth to a daughter, named after my sister and her mother, Eliza Sarah.
Before the spring opened and grass grew sufficient to sustain our stock, we were under the necessity of felling trees, to feed our animals upon the buds and twigs, to keep them alive.
In the latter part of winter, my only cow sickened and died, a loss which we seriously felt. She had been a great help to us on our journey, by supplying us with milk—was remarkably domesticated, kind and gentle. She was a present from Sister Hinckley, of Portage County, Ohio. People familiar with the circumstances of the Saints at that time would readily pardon my family for shedding a few tears on the occasion. Incidents which in after years would seem of very little or no consequence were at that time subjects of grave consideration.
One night, when our animals were driven into the corral, after having browsed among the tree tops through the day, it was discovered that one steer was missing. Early the next morning, with great anxiety, we went in search of it. About a mile from home we came to the river, along the bank of which our stock had been feeding. The stream was much swollen in consequence of the melting snow and ice. For a long time our search was fruitless; at last, when about to give up the pursuit, I discovered, on the opposite side of the river, the head and horns of my drowned ox protruding out between some large cakes of ice. I must confess a feeling of sadness stole over me at the unwelcome sight. It broke up one of my teams which it really seemed impossible for me either to spare or replace.
Early in the spring of 1848, Lorenzo was counseled by President Young to join him and his company, and proceed to the valleys of the mountains. Prompt to the instructions, he organized a company comprising about twenty-five families and started westward.
On arrival at the "Horn," he was appointed captain over one of the "hundreds," embracing one hundred wagons. He selected Elder Leman Hyde captain over one "fifty," and Elder John Stoker captain of the other "fifty."
On the day his company left their encampment at the "Horn," another wife, Eleanor, was sealed to him by President Brigham Young. The journal says: I managed to discharge my obligations as captain of my "hundred" very satisfactorily, for which I felt truly grateful to the Lord.
He arrived in the valley with his family without further serious accident—all in good health and rejoicing in the blessings of prospective peace. Soon after arrival, he was successful in obtaining what at that time was considered a fashionable log house, very similar in size, style and finish to that heretofore described which he left in Pisgah.
On the 12th of February, 1849, he was cited to put in an appearance at a meeting of the Twelve, then in session. Why or wherefore he could not imagine; but, with his characteristic promptitude, he went forthwith, ruminating in his mind whether he was called to answer some unsuspected charge or other; but a consciousness of faithful integrity to the duties assigned him predominated over every apprehension. To his great surprise, on arrival he was informed of his appointment to the Quorum of the Twelve, and was then ordained a member of that quorum. Elders C. C. Rich, Erastus Snow and F. D. Richards were also ordained into that quorum at the same time, under the hands of Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, Willard Richards, Parley P. Pratt and John Taylor.
In the spring and summer, with the assistance of Porter and John Squires, he built a log house on his lot in Salt Lake City, which, although a little more ample in dimensions and a little improved in appearance, bore a striking resemblance to those he occupied in Pisgah, and in Salt Lake City on his first entrance.
CHAPTER XVII.
The first celebration.—Lorenzo chairman of committee.—Description of Escort—Moves from Bowery to President Young's.—Receives the Presidency.—Returns to Bowery.—Singing by the way.—Cheers.—Hymn.—Prayer.—Declaration of Independence read.—Speech by Silver Greys.—Ode sung by Silver Greys.—Shout of hosanna.—March to the dinner tables.—A rich feast.—Thousands of the Saints partake.—Gentiles en route to California, partake.—Scores of Indians partake.—Grandeur in Simplicity.—Gratitude to God.
The first celebration in the valleys of the mountains was held on the twenty-fourth of July, 1849—the second anniversary of the entrance of the pioneers. In this, Lorenzo had much to do. In fact, the originating and compiling the programme for the exercises of the day, was the product of his fertile brain. The occasion was one which called into requisition his inventive abilities, and exhibited his taste and skill as an organizer; also the wonderful power of co-operative effort in carrying concerted plans into execution. Truly, it was not creating out of nothing; but when we take into consideration the circumstances of the people at that time—driven from their homes—robbed and plundered, and so recently located in a sterile waste, one thousand miles from all supplies, except what they extracted from a long-barren soil; it will be at once realized that it required no small stretch of thought and ingenuity to organize, and with appropriate honors, celebrate a day of so much historical importance as the one in question. But they had "the right man in the right place;" for in this instance, as in everything he undertook, Lorenzo verified the adage, "What is worth doing, is worth doing well." And, to make a success of whatever he undertook, he neither spared labor nor application.
Although, since that early day of our mountain home, as circumstances have changed—means been multiplied, and foreign resources brought within the reach of this once isolated people, insomuch that in more recent celebrations of that ever memorable day, the twenty-fourth of July, mammoth displays have been crowned with wealth and magnificence, this first, the opening one—this display of civilization in a desolate wilderness has never been eclipsed.
As it may be interesting to many of the coming generation, we will here give a brief description of the celebration, as follows: The inhabitants were awakened by the firing of cannon, accompanied by music. The brass band, playing martial airs, paraded the principal streets of the city, in a gaily decorated omnibus, with prancing steeds, and with banners flying, returning to the Bowery, from whence they started.
The Bowery was one hundred feet long, by sixty wide; it was built on one hundred and four posts, and covered with boards; but for the services of this day, a canopy or awning was extended about one hundred feet from each side of the Bowery, to accommodate the vast multitude at dinner.
At half-past seven, the large national flag, measuring sixty-five feet in length, was unfurled at the top of the liberty pole, which was one hundred and four feet high, and was saluted by the firing of six guns, the ringing of the "Nauvoo bell," and soul-stirring airs from the band.
At eight o'clock, the multitude was called together by music and the firing of guns—the Bishops of the several wards arranging themselves in the sides of the aisles, with