James T. Wilson's Account of the Carson Mission

James T. Wilson

We left Salt Lake about the 8^th of May. It was appointed for all the companies to rendezvous at Bear River where President Young was to meet us, and council in relation to the object of the mission. Accordingly after doing as required, he came up and we had a good time together and on the 15^th of May we struck tents, heading for the west. It was a beautiful clear day. All was happy and cheerful. Carson Valley is 750 miles from Salt Lake. . . . we moved along all o.k. till we arrived at the Humboldt, when a circumstance occurred which came very near leaving me a widower. My wife against my many warnings had a habit of going in the mornings and washing her face in the River, often doing so while standing upon caves which had fell from the banks of the River, so it came to pass that as she was hankered down one morning washing her face, all of a sudden the bank she was standing on gave way and in an instant she was precipitated in the muddy raging stream. The River was very high and turbulent. She went in feet down. Her clothes being dry they held her up quite a while before she sank.

I was some 30 rods above her and heard her give a loud scream as she went in. I was on horseback, and was soon at the scene. I jumped off my horse and would have went in to try to save her or die in the attempt. She had disappeared either once or twice and came up again, when I went to the edge of the water. As far as it was for them to venture, [James] Rathall was up to his shoulders scarcely able to keep his feet, and it seemed God directed the current for she came floating towards him, her head under the water, her dress merely in sight. Brother James seized her with the grasp of a tiger, and brought her safely to land. She was pretty well gone with fright, and the water that she swallowed, but in a few minutes she was able to get in the carriage, when we proceeded on our journey. I shall ever remember with gratitude the heroic exertions these brethren made to save my wife’s life.

We arrived at our destination about the last of June being about [6]–- 7 weeks on the road. A new valley was chosen for the place of rendezvous. I do not remember as there was a house in the valley. This valley was called Washoe. It contained a beautiful lake bearing the same name. The new city soon presented a busy scene and the hand of industry soon manifested itself on every hand. Apostle Orson Hyde who had charge of the mission had proceeded the companies and crossed over the Sierra Nevada’s to California and purchased a steam saw mill and ere long the buzz of the great circle saw could be heard from the new laid off city flat, and ere long horses were in course of construction. The mountains was covered with fine timber. It grew down to the very edge of the valley, so the facility for obtaining homes was comparative easy.

So one beautiful morning about the first of July, 1856 . . . starting early in the morning with blankets and lunch that if necessary to remain over night. Two hours ride brought us into Steamboat Valley. This name is given to it on account of a warm spring—the steam issuing out from among the rocks, making a noise similar to that made from the waste pipe of a steamboat. In this valley we seen large herds of antelope grazing in the distance. The valley contained miles and miles of fine sage—brush land, and a great quantity of beautiful rich meadow. The grass reaching up to our horses girths thick and luxuriant. To the right on the top of the mountain is located the worlds renown Comstock load, and the far famed Virginia City. But at this time both were unknown. After looking around for some time we proceeded on our course down to the Truckee River, some 6 or 8 miles in the distance. Here we camped for the night, but found nothing to attract our attention. It was on this river in 1846 that a large company of emigrants perished through meeting mutiny, except a very few who were so fortunate. After untold sufferings they were rescued by a few hardy men from Sutters Fort, California. We seen the bones of their cattle bleaching on the banks of the River, and some of their wagon tires. The Truckee is a beautiful clear stream some 3 rods wide, and is well stocked with fine mountain trout. The head of this river is Bigler’s Lake [Lake Tahoe] up the Sierra Nevadas. But in the providence of God I never beheld that valley again.

On the 22^nd of August, 1856, James B., my oldest son was born and on the 26^th Jered his twin was born dead. [James was the first white child born at Mormon Station] In this confinement my wife came nearly losing her life and it was only by the power of God that she survived her confinement. (Permission to print this story granted by the family. Some grammatical errors were corrected.)