"During the night of August 23rd, 1839, my son, David Patten, was born in Commerce, in the log cabin I had put up at the end of the Bozier house. We had a heavy thunderstorm that night, but the hand of the Lord was over us. As soon as my wife was able I moved my family into the new log house that I had built.
"September 14th, President Brigham Young left his home at Montrose to start on the mission to England. He was so sick that he was unable to go to the Mississippi, a distance of thirty rods, without assistance. After he had crossed the river he rode behind Israel Barlow on his horse to my house, where he continued sick until the 18th. He left his wife sick with a babe only three weeks old, and all his other children were sick and unable to wait upon each other. Not one soul of them was able to go to the well for a pail of water, and they were without a second suit to their backs, for the mob in Missouri had taken nearly all he had. On the 17th Sister Mary Ann Young got a boy to carry her up in his wagon to my house, that she might nurse and comfort Brother Brigham to the hour of starting.
"September 18th, Charles Hubbard sent his boy with a wagon and span of horses to my house; our trunks were put into the wagon by some brethren; I went to my bed and shook hands with my wife who was then shaking with a chill, having two children lying sick by her side; I embraced her and my children, and bade them farewell. My only well child was little Heber P., and it was with difficulty he could carry a couple of quarts of water at a time, to assist in quenching their thirst.
"It was with difficulty we got into the wagon, and started down the hill about ten rods; it appeared to me as though my very inmost parts would melt within me at leaving my family in such a condition, as it were almost in the arms of death. I felt as though I could not endure it. I asked the teamster to stop, and said to Brother Brigham, 'This is pretty tough, isn't it; let's rise up and give them a cheer.' We arose, and swinging our hats three times over our heads, shouted: 'Hurrah, hurrah for Israel.' Vilate, hearing the noise, arose from her bed and came to the door. She had a smile on her face. Vilate and Mary Ann Young cried out to us: 'Good by, God bless you.' We returned the compliment, and then told the driver to go ahead. After this I felt a spirit of joy and gratitude, having had the satisfaction of seeing my wife standing upon her feet, instead of leaving her in bed, knowing well that I should not see them again for two or three years."
Usually missionaries go to their fields of labor in small companies, and after the acute pangs of parting with loved ones are somewhat assuaged they enjoy their travels. The new scenes constantly coming within view help to divert their minds from the thoughts of home. If they have a long distance to travel to reach their destination, and especially when they have to cross the ocean, they find time to seriously consider the nature of the duty before them. Then they begin, if they have not done so before, to realize the necessity of depending upon the Lord for guidance and aid.
If they have to cross the great deep and should they become sea-sick they are liable to feel that their troubles are increasing in number and severity; but if their sea-sickness is of an extreme type it banishes all other troubles. They have no hope nor fear of the future and the past is entirely forgotten. All they can think of is the awful present. The more severe their sickness the sooner it is ended, and their recovery is so rapid that it causes astonishment, and they wonder how it was possible for them to feel so ill through such a trifling cause. In a few days nothing is left of the dreadful sensation but a recollection as of an unpleasant dream.
CHAPTER V.
FIRST EXPERIENCE IN THE FIELD.
The excitement or the interest of travel generally keeps up one's spirits while on the way; but soon the journey is at an end. Arriving at the headquarters of the mission to which they have been appointed, the missionaries are assigned to various conferences or fields of labor. During the short time they have traveled together they have become quite attached to each other. They appreciate one another the more through being alike newly separated from near friends and traveling through strange lands among strange people. It is another affecting experience to part from traveling companions; and when each one finds himself singly cast among strangers, or rather among new friends, he is for a little while lonesome. If he allows himself to take a cheerless view of the situation he may feel somewhat home-sick; and if he makes no effort to cast aside his gloomy thoughts he will soon be feeling extremely unhappy. He can encourage this feeling until it becomes a serious malady that can only be cured by the most heroic treatment, or else have the cause removed by a far less heroic method—that is by returning home at once. On the other hand, if the newly-arrived missionary fully determines to go to work immediately, to become familiar with the labor before him, to get acquainted with the people, and make himself at home among them, and take advantage of every circumstance that surrounds him, he will soon feel contented so far as personal comfort is concerned.