Although William was annoyed at the step his wife had taken, he
concluded to let matters go as they were. However, much to Mary's
chagrin, he took a farm close by, and tried to make another start.
Nothing seemed to go right.
On the 24th of July, 1850, Mary gave birth to another daughter, to whom
they gave the name of Rachel. The next year another company of Elders
came down from Utah under the leadership of Brother Stewart. These
also made their stopping place, while in that part of the country, at
the home of the Chittendens. But if the Elders met with little success
during their former mission, this time seemed a complete failure. No
one could be found to give them a moment's hearing. One Brother Doudle
came up near Camden, and used every endeavor to gain a foot-hold.
Instead of kindness he met with cruelty; and in place of bread they
threw him a stone. For two days he traveled and could find neither a
place to sit down, a crust to eat nor a thing to drink.
When he got back to the Chittendens, he walked wearily in, and Mary's
daughter, Jane, bustled around to get him something to eat. "No," said
he, "don't cook me a thing. I want nothing but a piece of bread and a
drink of water."
She hastily set what he required before him, and after he had eaten he
said, "Sister Jane, you shall receive the blessing for this. I have not
broken my fast since I left your house until now. I have had to sleep
out under the forest trees. I am now fully satisfied there is no place
to be had to hold meeting. I thought as I was leaving the city, shall I
shake the dust off my feet as a testimony against this people? No, no;
I will leave it all in the hands of God!"
The bitter prejudice of people around Camden grew worse and worse. At
last the word went out that all the missionaries were to return to Utah
immediately. This was in 1857, when Johnson's army was advancing upon
Utah.
Before leaving Camden, the Elders prophesied openly that trouble should
fall heavily upon the people who had refused them even a hearing. From
that time until the "Mormon" missionaries returned and opened the door
of mercy, there was not one stalk of grain raised in the whole district
of Camden, and people had been unable to obtain a living.
With what earnest prayers did Mary seek to persuade her husband to go
along too! And the Elders counseled him to return with them. But no,
he could not feel to go with his helpless family and have little or
nothing to support them when he arrived in America. So the last Elder
bade them good-by and turned away from their door. Alas! eighteen years
passed away before they ever heard another Elder's voice.
William was like his wife, unable to read one word, and all that he
knew of this gospel had been taught him orally by the missionaries. He
was also very young in the faith, and had not learned the great lesson
of obedience nor dreamed its mighty weight in this Church. For this
reason God was merciful to him, and did not deprive him of the light
of the gospel, but taught him the painful but necessary lesson through
much and long tribulation. And his children, although scattered and
living most of them in Australia, retain the love of the truth in their
hearts.
After the Elders had been recalled, Mary commenced to feel a great
brooding darkness settle down over her. In the day she could throw
it off, but when night closed her labors and laid her at rest, the
darkness would fold around her like a garment. She was anything but
a nervous, imaginative woman, and this terrible darkness grew into
something tangible to her husband as well as to herself. At last he
listened to her and decided to once more sell out and get away.
Two more girls were born to Mary before leaving Camden vicinity. One,
Caroline, was born May 10, 1858, the other, Louisa, was born June 25,
1860. Mary had then eleven girls, her two sons having died in infancy.
The older girls were very much disappointed that neither of the last
two were boys. Especially was this the case when Louisa was born;
their chagrin being expressed so loudly that it reached their mother's
ears. She was a trifle disappointed herself, but when she heard their
comments she was really sad and cast down. The feeling could not be
shaken off until the next day; when as she lay dozing, a voice plainly
said to her: "You shall have a son, and he shall grow up and be a great
comfort to you in your old age." As usual she related the circumstance
to her husband and he fully believed in it. He thought he would try
"sluicing" for gold in some of the mining camps. The process called
"sluicing gold," or washing it, is as follows: A box about a foot wide
and two feet long, is fitted with several little boards or slats, about
an inch high, across the bottom. This is to make the water ripple
over. Into this box the sand is shoveled, and the water washes away
the dirt leaving tiny nuggets of gold in the bottom of the box. This
is of course in the regions where gold is found plentifully. Rocks are
broken up and shoveled in, and often are richer than the sand. But this
"sluicing" process is a slow one, so much of the finer portions of gold
being washed away. If quicksilver was used to gather the tiny shining
metal, it would prove much more profitable, but quicksilver itself is
expensive.
So William sold out, and they started up to a place called Lemon Flat
in the early Spring of '61. All of a sudden severe rains set in; the
country was flooded, and the soft soil became actually impassable.
Insomuch so that the family were obliged to relinquish the idea of
going to Lemon Flat and turned aside to go to another mining camp
called Gunderoo.
While going to Gunderoo the day they reached the outskirts of the town,
was a very tiresome one for all. Mary had a light, one-seated carriage,
a great deal like the one horse delivery carts in Salt Lake City.
She often got out and walked for exercise. In the latter part of the
afternoon, the wagon, followed by the girls and their father, walking,
pushed ahead to reach the summit of the hills overlooking Gunderoo,
or the "gap" as it was called, there to pitch their tents and prepare
supper.
Mary, walking near the cart, began to feel a curious weakness creep
over her. No pain, only a weakness in every joint. Alarmed at the
long absence of their mother, two of the oldest girls hurried back,
and found her seated by the roadside unable to proceed another step.
They assisted her to rise, and half carried her up the hill to the
tents. She whispered to them to put her in bed in the cart where she
always slept. They did so. But she grew weaker and weaker. She would
faint entirely away, then slowly come back, and wonder feebly what was
the matter, and why they all stood around so. Then faint away again,
and so on all night. At last Jane remembered her mother had a little
consecrated oil packed away, and she searched among the boxes till she
found it. They administered to her then, and she revived some. But
begged to be taken away from that place.
Her husband felt she might die if he did not comply with her wish, so
they started immediately for Yass river. They were traveling along,
when Mary's horse gave out. She was obliged then to wait for her
husband to return, and get her. She felt much better, and thought she
could get out and walk about a little. So she directed the young man
who drove her cart to let down the shafts. She got out, but the moment
she went to rest her feet on the ground, she fell to the earth. The
young man assisted her into the cart again, and then for three months
she never stood upon her feet. There was no pain whatever, only an
extreme weakness.
While camping on the Yass river the next evening, Mary had a dream
which when related sounds like the history of her life for the
following twenty years; so true is it in every particular.
She dreamed that she saw herself and her family, traveling, struggling
and trying to get a start again. Everything seemed to go against her
husband. Sickness came, and she saw herself the only one able to be out
of bed. Deadly sickness too, but she was promised that there should
be no death. Things seemed to grow blacker and blacker. At last,
starvation approached and she saw them all without a morsel of food to
eat; everything sold for food, even their clothes. Then when the last
remnant of property had been taken from them, the tide turned. She
was told they should at last go to Goulburn, where they would break
land, and prosperity should once more visit them, and that they should
finally reach Zion. The dream was terrible in its reality. She awoke
trembling and sobbing, and awaking her husband she told him she had
been having a fearful dream.
"I would rather," she added, "have my head severed from my body this
minute, than go through what I have dreamed this night."
"Well, wife," answered William, "let us hope it is nothing but a dream."
She related it to him, but he felt too confident in his own strength to
believe such a dream as that. It gradually faded from Mary's mind as
such things will do, but now and then some circumstance would recall it
to her mind with all the vividness of reality.
While camping on the Yass, a stranger came to William and asked him
for his daughter Maria, who was then only fourteen years old. William
replied that Maria was nothing but a child, and he was an utter
stranger, so he could not for a moment think of consenting. Three
nights after this, the man stole the girl away, and when morning came
and the father discovered the loss, he was almost frantic with grief.
He was a most devoted and affectionate father, and he was fairly beside
himself with his daughter's disappearance. He spent money like water.
Advertised, went from place to place, searched and hired others to
search with him, for the missing girl. It was of no use. She was never
found.
While searching for her four of his horses wandered away, and only one
ever returned. Then, finally giving up in despair, he hired horses and
went to Yass city. Arriving there William obtained work for a man named
Gallager, at putting up a barn.
They had been settled but a short time when the baby was prostrated
with colonial fever. Mary did all she could, but the child grew worse.
Four months went by and still there was no improvement. At last Mary
persuaded her husband to get a doctor. The doctor came and told the
mother there was one chance in a hundred of the baby's life. No signs
of life seemed left in the little body, but he ordered her to put a
strong mustard poultice over the stomach. "If it raises a blister,"
said he, "she will live. If not, she is dead."
Into Mary's mind there suddenly flashed her dream. "Sickness, but no
death." Well, then, her baby should live.
A short time after the doctor's departure, Mrs. Gallager, a neighbor,
came into the tent, and said, "Mrs. Chittenden, let me hold the child."
"No, Mrs. Gallager, thank you, I would rather hold her."
The woman bustled about and got a tea-kettle of water upon the stove.
"What are you doing," asked Mary.
"Getting a bit of hot water. The child is dead, so we will want some
water hot."
"She will not die, Mrs. Gallager. She is going to live."
"Why, woman, she is dead now! Her finger nails are black!"
"No, she is not dead," persisted the mother. Who knows the great power
and faith of a mother?
Within a few hours the child's breathing became audible. Her recovery
was very slow. And while she still lay weak and ill, William was
stricken down by the same complaint. He grew rapidly worse. He too
lay ill for several months. He was in a very critical condition, but
whenever able to speak he would tell Mary not to bring a doctor, for
he should recover without one. The turn for the better came at last,
and as soon as he was able to get about a little, they determined to
go to Lemon Flat. Their first idea in going to Lemon Flat had been
to homestead, or "free select" land, as it is called in Australia.
However, they were far too poor now to do this, so William got odd jobs
to do. He scraped all he could together, and bought a horse for fifteen
pounds. But shortly afterwards, he heard of one of his lost animals
about eighteen miles up the country, so he made a trip up to find the
animal. Arriving at the place, he heard that a Chinaman had just gone
to another camp, on the horse. That night he tethered his horse out,
and next morning at daybreak went out as usual for him, and behold, he,
too, had disappeared, not leaving a track of a hoof to guide anyone
in a search for him. So William was at last obliged to trudge wearily
home, eighteen miles, carrying his saddle on his back.
And thus one year dragged heavily by. While here Jane was married to
John Carter, and Ellen to a Grecian man named Nicolas Carco. Also, just
as they were leaving Lemon Flat, Eliza married a Mr. Griffin.
Now they determined to go once more to Gunderoo to try what could be
done there. The reason why William wished to go to Gunderoo was, that
no matter what came or went, wages could be made by a man in "sluicing
gold." Now the family were almost destitute. After their arrival in
Lemon, and for months, most of the children lay sick with the colonial
fever.