James was just four years old when his family, mother Mary Penfold and father William Goble, decided to immigrate from England to America with other members of the LDS Church.
Along with his parents he, his older brother Edwin, and sisters, Mary, Caroline, Harriet, and Fanny were among those who were to travel with the John Hunt Wagon Train Company across the Great Plain to the Salt Lake Valley.
His little sister Fanny only made it as far as the Mormon handcart encampment at Coralville, outside of Iowa City, Iowa. She died from complications of measles after weathering a cold rainstorm and was buried a few days before the wagons left for the west in August of 1856.
Another baby sister, Edith, was born in late September and only lived six weeks before their mother had to bury another babe along the fast freezing trail.
Three days after little Edith's death, young James went to bed in a cold tent, never to wake up. His older sister, Mary, wrote in her journal, "When we arrived at Devil's Gate [Weber Canyon, Utah] it was bitter cold. We left many of our things there....My brother James, was as well as he ever was when we went to bed that night. In the morning he was dead..... My feet were frozen; also my brother's and sisters'. It was nothing but snow. We did not know what would become of us."
Later, Mary, who was just 13 at the time wrote, "My mother had never got well, she lingered until the 11th of December, the day we arrived in Salt Lake City, 1856. She died between the little and big mountains. [Mouth of Weber Canyon] She was buried in the Salt Lake City Cemetery. She was 43 years old. She and her baby lost their lives gathering to Zion in such a late season of the year. My sister was buried at the last crossing of the Sweet Water.
We arrived in Salt Lake City at nine o'clock at night, the 11th of December, 1856. Three out of the four [children] that were living were frozen. My mother was dead in the wagon."
"WE'LL MEET AGAIN"
A blanket wraps your tiny form,
As if it's presence can make you warm.
We cannot stop our freezing tears,
Nor think of future, empty years.
Nor even take the time to grieve,
For we must surely take our leave.
The handcarts slowly move along;
We, among the tattered throng.
We trudge along, behind the carts;
Choking sobs, with broken hearts.
Blinding sleet now numbs our pain;
Our only hope, "We'll meet again".
...............~Shirleen C. Farley 2011
Along with his parents he, his older brother Edwin, and sisters, Mary, Caroline, Harriet, and Fanny were among those who were to travel with the John Hunt Wagon Train Company across the Great Plain to the Salt Lake Valley.
His little sister Fanny only made it as far as the Mormon handcart encampment at Coralville, outside of Iowa City, Iowa. She died from complications of measles after weathering a cold rainstorm and was buried a few days before the wagons left for the west in August of 1856.
Another baby sister, Edith, was born in late September and only lived six weeks before their mother had to bury another babe along the fast freezing trail.
Three days after little Edith's death, young James went to bed in a cold tent, never to wake up. His older sister, Mary, wrote in her journal, "When we arrived at Devil's Gate [Weber Canyon, Utah] it was bitter cold. We left many of our things there....My brother James, was as well as he ever was when we went to bed that night. In the morning he was dead..... My feet were frozen; also my brother's and sisters'. It was nothing but snow. We did not know what would become of us."
Later, Mary, who was just 13 at the time wrote, "My mother had never got well, she lingered until the 11th of December, the day we arrived in Salt Lake City, 1856. She died between the little and big mountains. [Mouth of Weber Canyon] She was buried in the Salt Lake City Cemetery. She was 43 years old. She and her baby lost their lives gathering to Zion in such a late season of the year. My sister was buried at the last crossing of the Sweet Water.
We arrived in Salt Lake City at nine o'clock at night, the 11th of December, 1856. Three out of the four [children] that were living were frozen. My mother was dead in the wagon."
"WE'LL MEET AGAIN"
A blanket wraps your tiny form,
As if it's presence can make you warm.
We cannot stop our freezing tears,
Nor think of future, empty years.
Nor even take the time to grieve,
For we must surely take our leave.
The handcarts slowly move along;
We, among the tattered throng.
We trudge along, behind the carts;
Choking sobs, with broken hearts.
Blinding sleet now numbs our pain;
Our only hope, "We'll meet again".
...............~Shirleen C. Farley 2011
James was just four years old when his family, mother Mary Penfold and father William Goble, decided to immigrate from England to America with other members of the LDS Church.
Along with his parents he, his older brother Edwin, and sisters, Mary, Caroline, Harriet, and Fanny were among those who were to travel with the John Hunt Wagon Train Company across the Great Plain to the Salt Lake Valley.
His little sister Fanny only made it as far as the Mormon handcart encampment at Coralville, outside of Iowa City, Iowa. She died from complications of measles after weathering a cold rainstorm and was buried a few days before the wagons left for the west in August of 1856.
Another baby sister, Edith, was born in late September and only lived six weeks before their mother had to bury another babe along the fast freezing trail.
Three days after little Edith's death, young James went to bed in a cold tent, never to wake up. His older sister, Mary, wrote in her journal, "When we arrived at Devil's Gate [Weber Canyon, Utah] it was bitter cold. We left many of our things there....My brother James, was as well as he ever was when we went to bed that night. In the morning he was dead..... My feet were frozen; also my brother's and sisters'. It was nothing but snow. We did not know what would become of us."
Later, Mary, who was just 13 at the time wrote, "My mother had never got well, she lingered until the 11th of December, the day we arrived in Salt Lake City, 1856. She died between the little and big mountains. [Mouth of Weber Canyon] She was buried in the Salt Lake City Cemetery. She was 43 years old. She and her baby lost their lives gathering to Zion in such a late season of the year. My sister was buried at the last crossing of the Sweet Water.
We arrived in Salt Lake City at nine o'clock at night, the 11th of December, 1856. Three out of the four [children] that were living were frozen. My mother was dead in the wagon."
"WE'LL MEET AGAIN"
A blanket wraps your tiny form,
As if it's presence can make you warm.
We cannot stop our freezing tears,
Nor think of future, empty years.
Nor even take the time to grieve,
For we must surely take our leave.
The handcarts slowly move along;
We, among the tattered throng.
We trudge along, behind the carts;
Choking sobs, with broken hearts.
Blinding sleet now numbs our pain;
Our only hope, "We'll meet again".
...............~Shirleen C. Farley 2011
Along with his parents he, his older brother Edwin, and sisters, Mary, Caroline, Harriet, and Fanny were among those who were to travel with the John Hunt Wagon Train Company across the Great Plain to the Salt Lake Valley.
His little sister Fanny only made it as far as the Mormon handcart encampment at Coralville, outside of Iowa City, Iowa. She died from complications of measles after weathering a cold rainstorm and was buried a few days before the wagons left for the west in August of 1856.
Another baby sister, Edith, was born in late September and only lived six weeks before their mother had to bury another babe along the fast freezing trail.
Three days after little Edith's death, young James went to bed in a cold tent, never to wake up. His older sister, Mary, wrote in her journal, "When we arrived at Devil's Gate [Weber Canyon, Utah] it was bitter cold. We left many of our things there....My brother James, was as well as he ever was when we went to bed that night. In the morning he was dead..... My feet were frozen; also my brother's and sisters'. It was nothing but snow. We did not know what would become of us."
Later, Mary, who was just 13 at the time wrote, "My mother had never got well, she lingered until the 11th of December, the day we arrived in Salt Lake City, 1856. She died between the little and big mountains. [Mouth of Weber Canyon] She was buried in the Salt Lake City Cemetery. She was 43 years old. She and her baby lost their lives gathering to Zion in such a late season of the year. My sister was buried at the last crossing of the Sweet Water.
We arrived in Salt Lake City at nine o'clock at night, the 11th of December, 1856. Three out of the four [children] that were living were frozen. My mother was dead in the wagon."
"WE'LL MEET AGAIN"
A blanket wraps your tiny form,
As if it's presence can make you warm.
We cannot stop our freezing tears,
Nor think of future, empty years.
Nor even take the time to grieve,
For we must surely take our leave.
The handcarts slowly move along;
We, among the tattered throng.
We trudge along, behind the carts;
Choking sobs, with broken hearts.
Blinding sleet now numbs our pain;
Our only hope, "We'll meet again".
...............~Shirleen C. Farley 2011
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