Read Ebook: A Child of the Sea; and Life Among the Mormons by Williams Elizabeth Whitney

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 506 lines and 64463 words, and 11 pages

Transcriber's Note

- The frontispiece featuring a picture of Elizabeth Whitney Williams is missing from the original scanned book.

- In general, geographical references, spelling, hyphenation, and capitalization have been retained as in the original publication.

- Minor typographical errors--usually periods, commas and hyphens--have been corrected without note.

- Significant typographical errors have been corrected. A full list of these corrections is available in the Transcriber's Corrections section at the end of the book.

A CHILD OF THE SEA

A CHILD OF THE SEA; AND LIFE AMONG THE MORMONS

BY ELIZABETH WHITNEY WILLIAMS.

Having lived all my life beside the water, with my brothers and many dear friends sailing on the lakes, and with the loss of many of my people by drowning, connected with the many years of my life as a Light Keeper, I affectionately dedicate this little book, with fragments of my life history, to the sailor men in whose welfare I have always felt a deep interest.

Elizabeth Whitney Williams.

Introductory.

At the earnest request of many friends I have written this book with some incidents of my early life before coming to Beaver Island.

What I have written about the Mormons are my own personal experiences and what I knew about them by living constantly near them for four years of my life; our leaving the island and settling at Charlevoix for safety then our being driven from there. After the fight then my life in Traverse City and finally returning to Beaver Island again. After the Mormons were expelled my twenty-seven years' residence at that time with the four first years gives thirty-one years of Beaver Island life with as much knowledge of Mormon life as any one outside of their teachings could possibly have. In this little history I have only touched lightly upon the reality, writing what my memory contained that might be interesting, telling the stories as near as possible as they were told to me by the people themselves that had lived and suffered by the Mormon doctrine; some things my parents told me when I was too young to remember, during the first part of my residence on "Beaver Island."

Biography.

My father, Walter Whitney, was born in Genesee County, New York State. At the breaking out of the Blackhawk and Florida war, enlisted, served his time, was honorably discharged, came to Fort Brady, Sault Ste. Marie, from there to Mackinac Island, there married my mother, who was a widow with three sons, myself being the only child born of that marriage.

The Light House and Life Saving Station at Beaver Island Harbor, Michigan.

James Jesse Strang, the Mormon King.

King Strang's Residence. Built in 1850.

The Mormon Feast Ground at Font Lake, Beaver Island.

The King's Highway, Beaver Island.

The old Mormon Printing Office, now the Gibson House, at Saint James, Beaver Island, Michigan.

Font Lake, Beaver Island, where King Strang baptized his people.

Little Traverse Light House, at Harbor Point, Michigan.

A CHILD OF THE SEA, AND LIFE AMONG THE MORMONS.

EARLY MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD DAYS.

Among my earliest recollections is my love of watching the water. I remember standing with my arms outstretched as if to welcome and catch the white topped waves as they came rolling in upon the white, pebbly shore at my feet. I was not quite three years old, my mother had left me asleep in the low, old-fashioned cradle and leaving the door ajar had stepped over to a neighbor's house just a few rods away; returning almost immediately, she found I was not in the cradle as she had left me a short time before. She began to search for me at once and fearing I had gone to the shore she ran down to the beach where the rolling waves were coming in with a booming sound, and the wind blowing a gale. She found me standing in the water laughing and reaching out my little arms as the great waves broke and dashed at my feet. Had she not come just in time I would have been carried out with the receding waves.

I had always lived near the water, but until this time had never seemed to realize or distinguish it from other things. Our house stood just a few steps back from the shore, sheltered in a little grove of evergreen trees. The sun shining on the water in the early morning caused it to sparkle like myriads of diamonds, and the soft glimmer which shone through the green trees even now reminds me of some half-remembered dream. All seemed so peaceful and quiet. I remember at other times when no wind was near and water was calm at night when I lay in my cradle I could hear the soft splash of the water in low murmurs as it came softly upon the gravelly beach so near to us. To me it seemed like some sweet lullaby lulling me to sleep while listening to its low, moaning sound. My mother said it always made her weep, for to her it was the sad whispering voices of departed friends.

ISLAND OF ST. HELENA.

The little island of St. Helena is situated about fifteen miles from Mackinac Island, in Lake Michigan. Two brothers, named Archie and Carl Newton had located at this little island; they bought the land around the little harbor and put out a good dock, built a large store and house and prepared to establish a business with the fishermen of lower Lake Michigan. They needed a good vessel for their trading purposes and concluded to have one built for themselves. My father being a ship carpenter, signed a contract to build their ship, which was to be named "Eliza Caroline," in honor of both brothers' wives, who were sisters. And long the "Eliza Caroline" sailed on Lake Michigan, carrying thousands of dollars worth of merchandise and fish, doing her work nobly and well. The building of the ship brought our family to the dear little island of St. Helena.

COMING OF COUSIN MITCHELL

When we went to live on the island there were about twenty-five families there. Much help was needed to build the ship so several families came for that purpose. One bright morning in June, not long after my going to watch the waves, I was sitting on the floor beside my cradle playing with my dolls and my little white kitten, when a man came in the door; a beautiful woman stood beside him. Mother was at work; she looked and gave a cry of delight when she saw them. They clasped hands and kissed each other. The man took me in his arms, kissing me and putting me in the woman's lap, where she was sitting in mother's rocking chair. The woman kissed me and smoothed my hair while mother went out to call father. He soon came in and all talked for some time. At last the gentleman and lady left, with father and mother following, taking me with them. We went to the dock, where a vessel was with many people on board, men, women and children, all were laughing and talking so happily together. Soon the vessel was under way with white sails spread to the breeze.

Our people waved handkerchiefs to those on board and hands were waved back to us with handkerchiefs fluttering as far as we could see them. The tears ran down my mother's face for her heart had been set on going with those people when they went to Green Bay, the Mecca of the west at that time. The man and woman were Mr. and Mrs. William Mitchell. Mr. Mitchell was my mother's cousin; they had disposed of their property on Mackinac Island and with other families were about to make new homes in Green Bay. Mr. and Mrs. Baird were among the rest. This had all been talked over before my father had left Mackinac Island and our people had intended to go with the rest, yet not knowing when they would be ready to start, my father had taken the contract to build the ship and could not possibly go at this time but promised to go in the near future, should all things prove favorable. Mr. Mitchell was a man of very fine appearance, courtly in his manners, kind and genial in disposition, loved by all that knew him. His wife was gentle in manner, a sweet-voiced and sweet-faced lady.

One of mother's friends had sent a package to us from Mackinac Island. When opened we found it contained a beautiful white, hand-embroidered French Merino shoulder blanket, a red Merino dress, ready made, little red morocco shoes and a gold ring for my finger. All was sent as a present to Baby Elizabeth. Mrs. Mitchell had brought me a large wax doll that opened and shut its eyes and had real hair. I was afraid of the doll when it opened and shut its eyes. Being fond of bright colors, the red dress and shoes were a delight to me.

PROMISES TO GO THE NEXT YEAR TO GREEN BAY.

My brothers were not at home when the Mitchells came, they being over to St. Ignace on a visit to some friends. When they returned and learned Cousin Mitchell had been at our home they could not be consoled as they had expected to go to Green Bay and go to school. Their father's brother, their Uncle John Gebeau, was living in Green Bay, so this was a great disappointment to them. Father said if all went well and good news came from Cousin Mitchell we would move to Green Bay the next year, so the boys felt content and father would not break his contract made with the Newton Brothers to build their vessel. Of course I was too young to realize all this at the time but was told it when old enough to understand.

A LETTER FROM COUSIN MITCHELL, WITH PRESENTS.

I remember a big letter came to father and was told later it was from Cousin Mitchell, telling father if he was doing well to remain where he was for the present. And on the return of the little schooner which took the people to Green Bay father received a large barrel of presents for all our family from Cousin Mitchell and his wife. Dress and shoes for mother, pretty little red top boots for all our boys, with little blue jackets and caps for them and many other things which brought joy to their hearts to be remembered by those so far away. Our boys were great favorites with the Mitchells and used to be with them so much at Mackinac Island. My father also had an uncle living in Green Bay, Daniel Whitney, among the first white settlers of the place. His descendants are still living there. Cousin William Mitchell lived there many years. Before passing from this life he was head keeper of Tailpoint Light House, twenty-two years at Green Bay.

I remember one very nice neighbor we had at this time. Slocomb was his name. Mother dressed the boys up in their new clothes, sent to them from Green Bay, and I was also dressed in my little red dress and shoes, then we were all taken over to see Mrs. Slocomb and from there my brothers took me over to see the vessel being built. I can remember how large it looked, it seemed so high up over us. The ship was to be finished and launched some time in September, then the Slocomb family were to move away to Milwaukee to make their future home. They had only one son, a boy about seven. When he reached the age of sixteen he was drowned at Milwaukee, which was a sad blow to those fond parents.

While more people were coming as more help was needed to finish the ship, all was busy bustle among the neighbors for there was to be a great gathering to watch the launching of the ship. Soon another family came, old friends of my mother's, a Mr. and Mrs. Courchane. The man had come from Montreal, Canada, to Mackinac Island a few years before and there met and married pretty Miss Abbie Williams. Aunt Abbie we children always called her. Mother was so happy to have her friend with her. They had three little girls. Mr. Courchane was a ship carpenter by trade and came to help finish the vessel. They were very kind neighbors to us. Their little girls' names were Lucy, Emmeline and Margarette. They lived just a few steps from our house; we children were all very happy together. My eldest brother Lewis was thirteen, the next, Anthony, or Toney, was ten; the next, Charles, was seven. I remember their little red top boots; I would put them on and walk about the floor, which pleased them so much to see the little sister in her cute baby ways.

THE OLD RED CRADLE.

They would put me into the old-fashioned, low, red cradle which father made large enough for us all to crowd into. There they would rock and sing the old French ballads mother had taught them, sometimes rocking so hard we would all be spilled out on the floor; and that floor! I remember it now, so white and clean with mother sitting near in her sewing chair, sewing and joining in the singing. Then pretty Aunt Abbie coming in; she always looked to me like a picture, with her great dark eyes and black hair braided so smoothly and pretty red cheeks with white teeth just showing between red lips. She, too, would join in the singing, which is pleasant to remember.

SAVED BY MY BROTHER FROM DROWNING.

I remember distinctly of falling into the water. At the noon hour father sent my three brothers out in our little boat, just a few rods from shore, to bring a jug of fresh water for the dinner. They took me with them and in some way I fell overboard. Father and mother, with other neighbors, stood on the shore and saw it all. They had no boat to come to us and our boys were so frightened they knew not what to do. Father shouted for one of them to dive after me, which brother Toney did. I could hear little brother Charley crying as I lay at the bottom of the lake. I remember coming to the top, struggling, and going down again. At last I lay quiet on the bottom. I could see the sun shining through the water as the great bubbles of air went from my mouth to the top. Brother Toney being an excellent swimmer and diver, dove down into the deep water, grasping me in his strong arms, bringing me to the surface, where we both were taken into the boat and soon rowed to shore. There my mother took me in her arms and ran to the house, with others following, doing all they could to restore me. After a little time I was able to sit up. Brother Toney was praised by all for his brave act, but the praise was nothing to him in comparison to the joy he felt in knowing that he had saved his little sister's life. Then I remember crying to have on my little red flannel dress. Mother said to me, "If you stop crying I will dry the dress and put it on you." I was sick, I remember, father walking the floor with me in his arms, singing, "When I can read my title clear to mansions in the skies," that being one of his favorite hymns. I was rocked in the cradle several days; when able to play again mother made me a little raspberry pie in a little tin, which made me a happy child. Mother often said she could recall many pleasures as well as sadness in that summer on the little "Isle of St. Helena."

St. Helena--dear little drop in the sea. How can I describe it as I saw it in after years? I called there on a trip down the lakes, on the steamer "Galena," with Captain Steele as master. We steamed into a pretty little basin of a harbor almost surrounded by green trees. The sun was just rising out from the water in the far distance, the sky was purple orange and pink. As I looked out of my stateroom window and saw before me the beautiful little Isle of St. Helena, I cannot describe my feelings; a few of the memories of my childhood days came back to me. My little brothers, with myself, playing along the shore, but now all was quiet and still. I had heard father and mother speak about it so many times, it seemed as though I saw it all through their eyes. It now looked to me like a lovely little toy. The water so clear and sparkling in the morning sunlight. The dock was in good repair, everything seemed clean, quiet and still. Mr. Newton's house I recognized at once, it being the largest. The little harbor seemed almost a perfect horseshoe in shape, the shore all around was covered with clean white gravel, the trees were mixed with birch, balsam, cedar, pine and poplar. The island is much greater in length than breadth. At the extreme eastern point a lighthouse is now erected. The red beams from its tower shine far out to guide the mariner on his way.

Sweet, dear, little Isle of the sea! The grand old waves shall dash upon thy shore, When we who once have trod thy lovely beach Shall be known to earth no more.

LAUNCHING OF THE SHIP ELIZA CAROLINE.

Time was drawing near to the finishing of the good ship Eliza Caroline. The hammers could be heard from early dawn till dark. Seams were being calked, there was painting and oiling going on from day to day. Many were gathering from near and far to watch the process of launching the ship. The little village was bustling with people. Every home was full, for friends had come to stay a week. My parents told me afterwards the launching was a grand success. The sails and all ropes and rigging had come from Buffalo, N. Y. The trial trip was to Mackinac Island and return and nearly all the people in the little town took passage.

The time had come for partings and sad farewells of old neighbors, for now nearly all must scatter to other parts. My father was sent for from Manistique. A Mr. Frankle had settled there and put in a mill. He was an old friend of my father's, coming from Chegrin Falls, Ohio. Offering good pay, father concluded to accept, and we prepared to move at once. The schooner Nancy, also owned by the Newton Brothers, was to take us to our destination.

FAREWELL TO ST. HELENA.

Cousin David Corps was anxious to do some fall fishing at a place called Scott's Point, where many families had come from Canada, Lake Huron and other parts. Fish were very near the shore in the fall of the year and a high price was paid for fish, so we were to tarry at this place until time to go to Manistique.

Sailors were superstitious about moving cats from place to place, so father concluded to take the family in our own little boat, the "Abbigal". We had cats, dogs, rabbits and sea gulls for pets, and father would not leave any of them behind us. Our goods were all loaded on the "Nancy" and "Abbigal." I remember our neighbors coming to the beach to see us off. Aunt Abbie took me in her arms; the tears fell fast on my face. I thought it was raining and held out my hand, as I had seen father do to catch the drops, but no, it was not raining, it was tears falling from our dear friend's eyes. When father called out "all aboard", I was clasped in another tight pressure of her arms. Then father took me and placed me in the boat, where brother Charley and I were wrapped up in warm blankets. Our boat was pushed off by the men with a "God bless you, Whitney," and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs and with our sails spread to the breeze we sailed away from the shore out upon the blue waters of Lake Michigan.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet