Evans, Emma Beck (Coleman) (1840-1913)

Emma Beck Evans Coleman, Biography

Author, a grandchild.

          Emma (Beck) Evans was born January 12, 1840 in Adams County, Illinois. Her grandfather Israel Evans was born in 1770 on the High Seas while the family were en route to America from Wales. The Evans family settled in Maryland where Emma’s father David was born in 1804. When he was 12 years old, they moved again, this time to Pennsylvania, where they lived until 1826. At this time, he met and married Mary Beck. They moved to Ohio where he farmed until April 6, 1833, when all the family joined the Mormon church, just three years after its organization. They went to Zion’s camp in Missouri in 1834 thence to Illinois, where six years later my grandmother who was the seventh child was born. When she was 18 months old, her mother died. In a few months, her father remarried and the new stepmother, who was very kind, raised the motherless children.

          The Evans family were in the mobbings and persecutions incident to the early rise of the church. They were at Haun’s Mill massacre, which was a most cowardly and bloodthirsty affair. They had no firearms with which to defend themselves and were not expecting an attack as they and the remainder of the Saints there were complying with the agreement made between the Saints and Mobcrats, to leave the state as soon as possible.

          The Saints were constantly harassed and driven by a lawless element, usually headed by some minister opposed to the tenets of the L. D. S. or “Mormons”. These men were cruel and heartless in the extreme, and often drove women and children from their homes in the dead of winter, leaving them with neither food nor shelter. Fortunate were the ones who were given warning in time to get a few of their effects into their wagons and journey forth to new places of abode, with perchance a horse, few poultry, a cow or yoke of oxen with which to start life again.

          It seemed to the young woman, Emma, that they were constantly on the move. Wherever they stopped houses were built, land cleared, crops planted and such general and permanent improvements were made that the casual observer would immediately get the impression, the participants expected to remain indefinitely. So they did expect to make their hoes and surround themselves with the comforts of life. But after one harvest, or perhaps two, they were moving again, driven by a ruthless mob.

          One winter, when Emma was perhaps 7 or 8, they had to leave comfortable homes and barn filled with feed for the oxen and cows and make their way as best they could across an unsettled snow covered country which lay between them and the nearest settlements in Missouri. They traveled along a high divide or water shed between the Nodawa and One-Hundred-and-Two (streams which drained the watershed). The snow was deep, often dragging an axel of the wagons making travel very difficult. The men would have to break a road through deep drifts or across ravines into which snow had drifted. Then they would be followed by one or two or perhaps three yoke of cattle driven through two or three times before the wagon could be brought up. There were days when they would move probably not more than three or four miles. It was bitter cold and the children had to keep in the wagons in order to keep warm or rather from freezing for as Grandmother said later: “I do not call to mind any time when we were really warm.”

          I am quoting direct from her: “To be huddled all day in a slow moving, or at times simply standing wagon, where one can’t see out only through the front end and over the backs of weary, starved pulling oxen into snow bound surroundings, was one of the most trying experiences of my childhood days. The men walked by the side of the oxen geeing and hawing, often cracking their long whips over the backs of the oxen, sometimes punching the wheel ox in the ribs just behind the shoulder to make him push over to the right to keep the wagon from skidding into a tree or other obstruction close to the road. Other times the men slapped their hands on their shoulders in order to keep warm. The cattle often gave out, having nothing to eat except the browse from the trees  that the men cut for them at night. They commenced dying. Our provisions were almost gone. I have gone to bed at night with nothing to eat but a bit of frozen corn bread, which I would have to put under my pillow to thaw out a bit before I could bite into it.”

          Many times, however, they went to bed at night so very hungry that they had difficulty sleeping. That continual  gnawing in ones stomach, the cravings of hunger, and constant cold, made many of them wish they could die. The men fared even worse then the women and children, for they were compelled to walk beside their wagons much of the time and were exposed to the inclement weather. At night time they had to care for their poor animals, often those patient creatures had little to eat or drink. Do you wonder how they ever got through?

          It was the custom when traveling, that when an ox died at night, he was cut up and apportioned among the company. Those hungry starved oxen in whose emaciated carcasses there was not one pound of wholesome flesh, graced the plates as long as there was a bite left. I quote from the diary again: “There were two little girls about my age in our company, whose mother died while we were traveling. They would sometimes come to our wagon and play with me. One morning when they came, mother said to one of them: ‘What did you have for breakfast this morning, dear?’ The little girl said with a sweet smile on her pretty face, ‘We had bread and Brandy.’ ‘Bread and Brandy’ exclaimed my mother. The little girl still smiling, said: ‘Yes, you see Brandy was the name of our ox which died last night and we had a piece for breakfast this morning.’”

          During the long trek overland, spring and summer came. Those who could, walked not only to break the monotony of riding, but according to grandma, to see the country through which they were traveling. Being a curious creature, she sometimes wandered too far away from the wagon train, in spite of being warned against the practice. The flowers just beyond the ridge, or a little way up the creek, looked too enticing to miss. One time she strayed off gathering flowers and soon found herself out of sight of, and behind the wagons. As she hurried along as fast as she could to catch up, she saw an object a short distance ahead that caused her to stop short, and hold her breath. There stood a big grey wolf apparently waiting for her to come up. For once, she exhibited composure and commonsense, and instead of running, she walked slowly by him. He just sat by the road, the moisture dripping from his mouth. When she caught up with the wagons, she didn’t stray off any more. She was afraid of being punished, so didn’t DARE tell anyone of the incident for a long time.

          The party arrived in Salt Lake City on September 15, 1850. The following February the Evans’ family were called to settle in Lehi. Great-Grandfather Evans, helped “lay out” Lehi. He was the first Bishop and kept that position for 28 years. It was in Lehi, that grandma met Prime Thornton Coleman whose family had emigrated from England in 1842. THey planned on being married, but had to postpone the date, because Prime had been called to settle in Iron County to do missionary work among the Indians.

          Grandma continued to live at home with her parents in Lehi. She was an attractive young woman with snappy black eyes, short black curly hair, 5 feet 2 inches tall and weighed about 105 lbs. One of the older Bishops became enamored of her and asked her father’s consent to take her as one of his wives. She heard of this in a round-about way, and as soon as possible, she sent word to Prime. He came back to Lehi in a hurry. They were married in November 1856- he being 25 and she 16. THey left immediately for their new home at the Santa Clara Mission. The bride’s dowry was a beef hide, a small pig and 38 pounds of salt. All of their worldly possessions were piled in a light wagon the bed of which was six inches deep, a board for a seat, no bows or cover, and loaded with the following articles: a limited amount of bedding, a pig, few provisions, a dutch oven, stoves were not obtainable for them. They had some tin dishes, knives, forks and a few pewter spoons. Of course they didn’t forget the raw hide, for that would come in handy for making moccasins, repairing the harness, making hobbles for the horses, and numerous other purposes. All they had in that wagon probably had a cash value of $10. They took with them the blessings of their respective parents, and the best wishes of their many friends and relatives.

          Having arrived at their destination, the real battle of life commenced. The climate was bad, the soil unproductive and extremely difficult to till, and the Indians, while friendly, were given to coveting their neighbors possessions, which made life even more difficult. One time, grandma traded a pair of beautiful beaded moccasins to a neighbor lady for one dozen spoons, at another time, she traded butter and cheese for five spools of “boughten” thread. She was the envy of the community. One dozen spoons polished and shining, neatly arranged on the shelf bordered with bits of scalloped newspaper, the five spools of “boughten” thread stacked pyramid-style in plain sight of every visiting housewife. The exhibit always brought forth exclamations of wonder, surprise, and envy as no such display of luxurious extravagance had ever been seen on the Santa Clara. She was the most favored house wife in the community.

          Because of the forbidding country, and after three years of hardships and discouragement, at Santa Clara, the Colemans moved to Pinto where three of their children were born. In 1872, the Boom City of Pioche, Nevada attracted miners from all parts of the U. S. Grandpa moved both his families out there--he had married a second wife by this time- on a ranch near Pioche where he entered the Dairy Business. Pioche was a typical Wild West Boom Town where money was plentiful and prices were extremely high. The few years they lived here were among the wildest days of Nevada. It was not unusual to hear some one say, “Another man for breakfast”. Several daring and successful robberies of silver bullion were committed, the thieves, when hard pressed taking refuge in the hills near some ranch where food could be procured.

          Grandpa was a trusting soul who lost all of his investment in Spring Valley to his erstwhile trusted partner.

          Again the family moved, this time back to Utah where they settled in Kanab. Grandpa operated a Dairy, and with the help of every member of the family, they milked 150 cows, made cheese and butter, taking the produce to market about once a month to trade for material for clothing, sugar, and other staple groceries; occasionally they even bought factory made shoes- a rare treat! During the summer, every available child was taken out into the hills to gather wild fruits and berries to be made into jams and jellies.

          Life was a continuous round of hard back-breaking work with but few interruptions for pleasures. Most of the cultural and educational knowledge was learned in the family home. Even though their formal education was extremely limited, both grandparents loved to read, so it is small wonder that they had an extensive library- at least extensive for that time and period. Besides the Bible, B. of M. and other Church works, the Colemans had: History of Rome, Pilgrims’ Progress, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Josephus (a scholarly history of the Jews), and of course, since Grandpa was English, a History of England. A subscription to the Church News was a must in the household and as soon as the Colemans had thoroughly digested the contents, it was carefully preserved and loaned to neighbors, who in turn passed it on to others. When it was finally read by everyone in the Ward, it was returned and was carefully saved, to be re-read once more.

           The Colemans were a hospitable family who loved to entertain. Grandma had a keen sense of humor and that, coupled with Grandpa’s scholarly manner, made their home a center for informal parties and dances. If any travelers were in their vicinity, they were invited to spend the night, and eat. While grandpa and the men discussed history and the latest available news, the women, under Grandma’s capable supervision, went to the kitchen to prepare the meal. There was plenty of meat, butter, milk, cream, and cheese. And hot biscuits were her specialty. I’ve heard her tell that many times her guests ate so many biscuits, she had to whip up a new batch to satisfy the heartier eaters. One time, in particular, a large hungry man ate 9, and as he reached for the tenth, he remarked: “Sister Coleman, I seem to have a big appetite”, to which Grandma promptly replied: “I call it a Hogitite”.

          In 1875, my mother’s oldest sister, Francelle, married Joseph Neal Heywood: four years later my parents followed suit. In September 1880, they began making plans to move to the S. R. V. in Arizona with the Sirrines, Crismons, and other Pomeroys. Grandpa decided to move once more, this time to Northern Arizona. Consequently, in October 1880, the S. R. V. contingent, the Colemans, and Heywoods left Kanab for the move southward. After a few days, they separated, the Colemans and Heywoods taking the Eastern route to the Apache County area. The trip was most trying in many respects, because of cold weather, the scarcity of food, fuel and water. It was no easy task for the women to help do the cooking, look after and feed the small children with the thermometer hovering around zero. It was almost impossible to keep food warm for as soon as it was dished from the hot dutch oven onto a tin plate, it was cold. Miles and miles were slowly, oh so slowly, reeled off, until after three month, they passed through Holbrook and Springerville, finally settling in Nutrioso. A few log houses with dirt roofs and dirt floors dotted the valley which was to be their new home. Later they moved to Bush Valley now Alpine.

          In a Mormon pioneer community, one of the first thoughts of the parents is: “How shall our children be educated?” Even though Grandma had had a limited education, and perhaps because she had no small children, she was hired by the probate Judge, who was also the County School Superintendent, to teach school. It was a typical one-room affair, equipped with home-made benches, and desks, few books, no blackboards, pencils or paper. Each child had a slate and slate pencil where he practiced writing and figuring. School lasted about three months of the year, and reading writing, and arithmetic was the extent of the curriculum. In several of the communities, there were no County or Territorial schools, so the Saints, eager to have their children educated, paid tuition and a private school was taught. The tuition was paid in produce, live stock, poultry, or eggs--seldom in cash.

          It was while living in St. Johns, that the women of the community became interested in the Woman’s Suffrage movement. The L. D. S. women helped defray Grandma’s expenses so she could come to Phoenix to plead with the territorial Governor and Legislature to give the women of Arizona the right to vote, a privilege granted to the females in Wyoming and Utah. She delivered an impassioned speech. At its conclusion, many of her hearers, including the Governor, flocked around her asking for a copy of the speech, and were surprised when told it was an extemporaneous one. The Governor was impressed, yet he very politely told her: “I am not in sympathy with Woman’s Suffrage. I believe a woman’s place is in the home”.

          In 1880 Aunt lizzie, Grandpa’s second wife, died in childbirth, leaving, besides the new-born baby, five other children whom Grandma raised.

          After weathering cold, Indian raids, droughts, and poor health until 1899, the Colemans and Heywoods, who had always lived in the same community, moved once more, this time to a warmer climate- the Gila Valley. They settled in Thatcher, where they lived a less tiring life. Grandpa died in 1900 and Grandma in 1913.

          Emma Beck Coleman was a religious woman who never questioned church authorities. During the early part of her life, she taught Sunday School classes and worked in the Primary 25 years. She was an interesting and entertaining teacher who made lasting impressions on her pupils. Occasionally, while the Primary lesson was being given, she had the boys in the class tear carpet rags, she and the girls sewing them. Never wasted a moment.

          With a passion for acquiring knowledge, Grandma enrolled in the St. Joseph Stake Academy (now Eastern Arizona Junior College), where, despite her sixty-odd years and the criticisms of her acquaintances, she took Book of Mormon History, Literature and American History.

          Grandma was a small wiry woman with piercing black eyes, short curly black hair which grayed in her late thirties. She loved to go places, and as there were few amusements offered in the communities where she lived, she created her own. A proud woman, who loved to dress, she made the most of what she could get. Shoes, hats, and gloves were her specialty. She used to say, “If your hands, feet, and head are well-groomed, no one will look at your middle.” When few women owned more than two pair of shoes--one for Sunday and one for everyday--one hat, or one pair of gloves at a time, she usually managed to save out enough egg-money to buy that extra pair of gloves, shoes or a new hat.

          In times of sickness or death in the community, Sister Coleman could be depended on to visit the distressed ones, bringing a bowl of her fames soup, a cheese, or loaf of good bread. She had a penchant for waiting on those not as active as she, and on many occasions, those to whom she was administering, were younger than she. She worked hard, and when scolded for doing so much for others, her reply invariably was: “Better wear out than rust out.”