MARY ROBERTS ROSKELLEY
Mary
was born November 22, 1843 at Eglwysbach. She was short and medium heavy statue, with
light blue eyes and dark hair; kind, pleasant, generous hearted in disposition
and ambitious far beyond her strength.
Mary was baptized November 22, 1851, by her father, Hugh
Roberts, and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints December 3, 1851, by William Davis.
Owing
to financial circumstances, she was obliged to begin working for her own living
when only eight years old. Her education
was sorely neglected, having been in school only three weeks prior to this
time. She began working for the
wealthier class of people, caring for children for her
‘board and keep’, then as she became older she began earning a little money
which she would take home to her parents.
When she had saved enough to make a dollar, her father explained to her
that ten cents of it belonged to the Lord as tithing, thus this great principle
was taught her very early in life, and she always observed it up to her last
days. Her Bishop once told her son
Richard “If everybody was as strictly honest about their tithes and offerings
as is your mother, the Church would never suffer.”
The
family left for America in 1864. The following incident was recorded in Mary’s
diary: “The next morning after we
boarded the ship, we looked back but could see nothing of our old England. We had been on the ship about 15 or 20 days
when a storm, almost a hurricane, overtook us and the rocking of the ship
caused great excitement among the passengers.
My parents took steerage passage while my brother John went one story
below us with the other small boys to bunk.
When the storm came up, mother was worried about John sleeping down
there and made him a bed on the trunks and boxes in her room. These were placed in a row down the middle of
the room between the braces while the bunks were in rows on each side of the
wall. I remember well how some people
were crying, some praying and some singing all night as long as the storm
lasted. We got John to bed and the girls
went to bed on one side, while the married folks had their beds on the other
side of the room. When we were all
settled as best we could for the rocking of the ship and the seasickness among
us, there came an extra swell of the sea. The ship rocked slowly, then lurched, which
landed John, bed and all, down on the floor among the buckets and shoes, etc.,
and rolled him under the bunks. Mother
started up and cried, “O my boy, my boy.”
Father said in his quiet way, “Oh, never mind Mother, he’ll come back
when we roll the other way.” But she
thought he must have rolled out of the ship into the ocean.”
“Well,
when the ship slowly rolled back, here came John from under the bunks, with
bedding and buckets and Mother grabbed him.
When the excitement cooled down a little, they took John and tied him
down to the boxes and posts and spent the night in peace. This storm lasted for about three days and
two nights. We reached New York on the 21st of
June.
“When
we sighted the hills of America a great shout of ‘America, America’ went up from the eager
throng and there was signing and rejoicing all day. The ship was anchored for the night and the
next morning we were put on a small steamboat and carried to shore. We were then taken into a large inspection
room. Father went first, the children
next and Mother brought up the rear. The
inspector looked at father and asked him where his wife was. “Six,” he said, “Back there.” He looked us all over and said, “You’ll do”
and passed us.”
“In
a day or two we embarked on a boat and sailed up the Hudson River to Albany. On each side of the river were beautiful
homes and we feasted on the beautiful scenery on either side. We boarded the train from there to Lake Erie. Reaching there we changed cars. The president of the company warned us we may
have trouble here, but to remain silent.
We left the train here and were met by a mob armed with lumber edgings
which they us with. Some of them said
not to hit the girls, but to get that old man, meaning Father. We finally reached our car, and after
boarding it were taken on to it, train and all to cross the lake. Early in the morning we were all tired and
lounging in our seats. The Canadians
came to meet the train with great baskets full of different kinds of sandwiches
to treat their fellow countrymen. The
two men that came to our car came up to Mother, who was always awake and asked
her where her family was. She pointed to
the four children and said, “These are mine and Father’s”. He filled her lap with sandwiches. When Father and the children awoke and saw
what the Canadians had done he said, “Well, you can give me the ‘petticoat’
government. It’s the best yet.”
After
landing at Wyoming, during the wait for the
teams to come, Mary and Catherine were allowed to go to the farm houses to buy
a little milk and butter or cheese.
Sometimes they were made very welcome by the housewife, who would tell
them to come early on some certain morning and they could assist her in
churning and doing general house work.
You can imagine the great enthusiasm of two sturdy young girls at such
an offer. They could hardly wait for the time to
arrive. When they reached the door, the
lady would say “Come, Mary, you can churn and Cathryn
can wash dishes and scrub.” When the
work was finished, they were given a nice bucket of butter milk and a roll of
butter, perhaps some bread or fruit and they would return to camp, giving
praise unto the good Father for leading them to help them on their way.
On July 19, 1864, they started the long and perilous journey in
which so many Saints had lost their lives for the Gospel’s sake. They were in Captain George Bywater’s care. All
who were able were destined to walk.
Soon mother Mary Roberts became ill with cholera, so she was put in the
wagon, and Hannah who was somewhat sickly and frail also rode part of the way
and held her mother’s head between her knees to ease the jar. Mary had to take her mother’s place to
oversee the cooking while the two other girls looked after their mother and
assisted in clearing away and packing up.
Mother Mary became so terribly sick that it seemed they would yet have
to leave her body on the plains. In the
evening when the young folks would gather in a dance and merry-making, Hugh
would tell the girls to go join in the fun while he watched over his sick wife
and cared for her. Sometimes they would
start out but upon recollection of their poor sick mother, they would return to
join their father in prayer and supplication to God to spare the life of their
beloved mother. As their journey neared
the end, the provisions became diminished and all the little things such as tea
and butter which their mother might like were saved for her.
They
were met in Echo Canyon by Elizabeth (Betsy) who
brought them food such as cheese, potatoes, bread, butter and milk, which
caused great rejoicing. Mary reached Salt Lake City, Saturday,
Oct 4, 1864. A few days after arriving,
she went to the General Conference.
After conference she went with Evan G. Morgan to Rush Valley, Tooele County, west
of Salt Lake City. She
spent the winter with her sister Margaret in Rush Valley. Margaret had married Evan S. Morgan, a cousin
of Evan G.
Morgan. She returned to Salt Lake in the spring of 1865. Then she and her brother John drove a cow and
some calves to Cache Valley for a man, walking all the
way. They arrived at Smithfield May
31, 1865. Their parents soon followed
and they made their first home here. How happy they were in this little log house with a dirt roof,
which was located near the northeast corner of Third North in Smithfield. They were most of all excellent singers, gather in the home circle singing those beautiful
Welsh ballads that made lasting impressions on ones mind. Mary up to her old age could join in any song
she knew with any of the parts in a sweet harmoneous
strain.
On Oct 10, 1865 she was married to Samuel Roskelley in the
Endowment House, Salt Lake City. To them were born Thomas, Richard and five
daughters: Ann Jane, Mary, Cathryn, Hannah and Druzilla. She outlived all but three; Ann Jane died at
birth. Her entire married life was spent
in hard labor. She cooked at
construction camps on the Central Pacific and Utah Northern Railways, also at
saw mills in Paradise and Cub River Canyons. She homesteaded land in Cornish and in June
1876, moved on a farm east of Smithfield where she made her home and
reared her family. Cooking
for men, milking cows, raising pigs and chickens, also caring for much small
fruit. In this way she and her
children gained a livelihood, always working and saving to make themselves comfortable.
She also helped to care for her husband’s first family whose mother died
and left four boys. She also took care
and reared to womanhood R. Pearl Hillyard Willmore, whose mother died when she was only one month
old.
In
April 1915 she sold her farm home to her son-in-law, Asael
D. Blanchard, and moved to Logan, where she resided until
June 1916, when she and her two daughters Mary and Cathryn
moved back to Smithfield to a nice comfortable home
they had saved means to build while they labored on the farm. Here she spent the last ten years of her life
in real poor health, suffering from stomach and liver trouble. Also vericose
veins. Her blood vessel broke in
two places on her right leg which caused her much pain and suffering. The last four years she also suffered with
rheumatism and finally after two weeks of suffering from lagrippe,
her heart gave suddenly away, and at 2 a.m. the morning of January 20, 1927, she passed peacefully away while in the arms of
her daughter Mary. She was buried in the
Smithfield Cemetery, January
24, 1927.
Thus
another of God’s choice daughters was called to claim the reward which she had
laid up in Heaven, not as a public worker but as a homemaker, a noble untiring
wife and mother, true to her God and her husband and family and all who may
have known her in life, for many have eaten from her table of food which was
wholesome and clean, of which she was a real artist.
