Nielsine Marie Larsen

THE STORY OF HER TREK WEST

 

(Taken from the History of Ferdinand Fredrickson and Neilsine Marie Larsen written by their daughter, Sena Fredrickson Simpson, of the Daughters of Pioneers, Lone Rock Camp)

"My mother, Neilsine Marie Larsen, was born September 25, 1834, in Binslev, Hjorring County, Denmark. 

She married Ferdinand Fredrickson on December 26, 1855.  "On August 30, 1857, my brother Lars was born, and Marcus was born February 20, 1860.  [In Ugerby] my brother Johannes was born, on December 9, 1862.

"When Father left for America, Mother and the boys stayed with her father and mother for one year until they had a chance to come to America. A man by the name of Jens Christen Holt loaned Mother enough money to get as far as the Missouri River.  So she bid goodbye to her father, mother, sisters and brothers.  The boys cried.  They had grown attached to their Grandpa Lars Christensen Jensen, but they soon forgot that, for they were going to America, where Father was.  They sailed on May 8, 1865, with 557 emigrants on board.  It was not a passenger ship, but only a regular freighter.  They nailed bunks across in double rows.  They had lower and upper bunks.  The two oldest boys had the upper bunks and Mother and the baby had the lower one.  There was a narrow alley between each row.  They hung a few lanterns in the ceiling for light and when the ship rolled most of the lanterns would fall down.

"The 557 emigrants were all i one room- men, women and children.  Sickness came upon them. Johannes was very ill, and on May 26, 1865, he died and was buried at sea.  Mother did not go up to see him buried- she said she couldn't.  Just think, they had no conveniences of any kind- just an old bucket.

"The landed in New York on June 16, 1865 after 40 days on the ocean.  They went by rail to St. Joseph, Missouri, and on steam boat up the river to where Omaha now is, or a place near there called Wyoming, which was the outfitting place for freight teams there.  They waited 34 days until the merchants from Salt Lake City got 45 wagons shipped from Chicago and got them set up.  They had all the young men in the company to do that.  They also had to help load the wagons with 4,000 pounds of freight on each wagon and 10 emigrants were allowed to go with each wagon, being allowed 50 pounds of baggage.  The passengers walked, as there was no room to ride.

"The merchants bought eight wild steers (called four yokes) for each wagon which had been brought in from the Nebraska and Iowa prairies by cowboys.  They were loaded to full capacity for such motive power.

"The Church did not come after emigrants that year, so all had to come by the freight trains.  Their trains were wagons, and the power was that of oxen.

"An old plainsman by the name of Miner G. Atwood was chosen to be captain.  When Mr. Taylor asked him how long he thought it would take to cross the plains he said eight weeks.  Mr. Taylor did not think it could be done in so short a time with such heavy loads and unbroken teams, so to make sure, he gave them provisions for ten weeks time.

"They started July 31, and the going was rather difficult with the combination of wild steers and green drivers- drivers who had never driven oxen with a whip instead of lines and bridles.  One man from Copenhagen had never seen an ox before, and expressed his feelings about them in Danish- asking that the Devil hammer, rasp, thunder, lightning and burn staves in the damn beasts.  The first day some of the teams made it three miles out of camp, and some not at all.  When night came they were strung out over the three miles, and the people were hunting for the wagon to which they belonged.  Some had been stalled in the sand, among them wagon number 17, for which Mother and the boys were hunting.  They finally found it about two miles out from camp.  They rolled their bedding out in the sand and went to sleep. 

"Sometimes, in the hot sun, the steers would have their tongues out, panting like dogs, then all at once they would get a kink in their tails like a corkscrew and stampede.  You could see teams running in all directions with their loads.  Some would run across behind another wagon that had stalled in the sand and tear off a hind wheel, then there was another stop while they fixed the wagons.  On one such stampede they ran over a nineteen-year old girl.  They buried her right there.

"Their first battle with the Indians was on September 22, some distance west of Fort Laramie.  At noon the train had just driven into camp in two lines, making a corral of the wagons, open at both ends- as they always did, both for corraling the stock when they had to hitch up and also for defense in case of an Indian attack.  A woman named Mrs. Grundvig had stopped about a quarter of a mile behind, saying that she was tired and wasn't going any further.  She was determined to go back to Wyoming, Nebraska, and her husband was with her coaxing her to come into camp.  She told him she would rather go with the Indians than with him to Utah- little realizing how soon she would be taken up on her decision.

"The Indians were in plain sight.  Mother could see them from the camp, where she had just started a little fire close outside the camp to cook some dinner.  On the opposite side of the camp, the oxen had been driven to water with three men left to guard them and bring them in at the sound of the bugle.  They had barely got the oxen to water when they were attacked by a large band of Siox Indians, who tried to run off the oxen.  They shot arrows at the three men, who were hit several times, but not so badly but what they could pull them out themselves, and get the oxen started back to camp.  With the yelling of the Indians, and the arrows flying around, the oxen went back into camp on the run.

"Captain Atwood gave orders to pack up quickly and be ready to leave.  Mother hurried inside with her cooking utensils just as the Indians came up to the camp on a dead run.  They met such a heavy rifle fire that they turned, after which they hung on the sides of their horses and shot arrows from under their ponies' necks.  The air was full of arrows, they they were so high that no one was hurt.  One of the foremost of the Indians threw a lasso on a girl who was out picking up wood, but she was quick enough to throw the loop before he could tighten it up, else he would have dragged her to death.

"When their force was turned, they went toward Mr. and Mrs. Grundvig.  He was shot full of arrows, and she was picked up by the Indians, never to be heard of again.  Several of the Indians were hit, but they picked up their wounded and took them with.  Mr. Grundvig managed to pull all the arrows out, then crawl into camp.  He dropped unconscious by a wagon, and all thought he was dead.  The captain, however, put him in a wagon, where he stayed for three weeks before he was able to walk again.

"As soon as the teamsters had hitched up, they went on without dinner and kept on until 10 pm to where the captain knew there was a natural place of defense, for he feared an attack during the night.  After that first battle, the captain always sent out enough guards with the oxen, and the camp itself was kept well guarded.

"On the third night they came again but the guards saw them and drove them away with a heavy fire.  One of the mean was wounded in his thigh, but he managed to pull the arrow out himself.  He limped for a long time afterwards.  Another man was shot through the jaw by an arrow.  It stuck out on both sides.  He could not pull that out himself.  He came into camp like that.  Captain Atwood cut the feather end off with his pocketknife and pulled the arrow through.

"When they arrived at Fort Laramie, the captain could see that it would take more than ten weeks, so they were put on half rations.  That was the coldest and hardest part of the trip.  It was quite late in the fall and stormy, as they were crossing the Rockies. Every night some weary traveler would lie down to sleep and never wake up.  It became a regular affair to bury one and often two or more every morning.  Of their company of 557, only 400 reached Salt Lake City.  Mother and the boys walked every step of the way, and waded all the streams except the Green River, which was too deep and swift.  Mother told me that as soon as they camped at night she would sweep the snow away, make the bed, and put the boys to bed.  After they were short rationed, they were put to bed without supper.  She thought they were tired enough to sleep without food, but they could not walk in the morning without breakfast.  She told us that was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

"Their shoes were all worn out, and they had to walk in the snow and the mud bare footed.  The boys were encouraged when they thought they would soon get to Utah where Father was, then they could have plenty of time to rest and just remember the hardships.  With the hardships Mother went through, it is a wonder that she lived to be 88 years old with fairly good health until the very last few years of her life.

"It was late in the evening of November 8, 1865 that they camped at the mouth of the canyon, east of Salt Lake City.  On the morning of November 9 when they awoke, the sun was shining, and they thought Salt Lake City looked very beautiful.  It was not much of a place at that time, but Mother and the boys thought it was.  They arrived in the city about noon, where Father met them with his oxen and the old wagon- a first class outfit to them.  They were happy now that they could ride the rest of the way to Logan.

"When first she came to this country, she didn't have much of this world's goods.  She told me she always had plenty of bread, but sometimes she would long for something to go with it.  She certainly knew how to take care of things.  After a few years, especially when she had a little more to do with, she would help others who came to this country and were struggling to get along.  We would say to her, 'Why do you do so much for those people?  They are younger than you and more able to work.' She would tell us to keep still, saying, 'You don't know what a struggle it is to get along.  I know.  I have gone through the mill.

"Mother had a sweet disposition.  No matter what hardships she underwent or what trials or trouble she had, she never complained.  She made the best of everything."