Life of Charles Abram Romriell
As told by Charles Abraham Romriell
Written By Marilyn Romriell
As a child I loved to go to my grandmother Billot’s house. She lived in a two story house
covered with grape vines. I was the youngest boy in my family and grandmother Billot
seemed to take a greater fancy to me than the other children. It was only a short space
between our house and hers.
I loved to go and get her spiced cookies. One day a little friend of mine and myself went
into grandmothers house while she was gone to market and helped ourselves to the
cookies. When we began to fill up we just took a bite out of them and laid them around
just like youngsters do. When grandmother came from the market she came in the door
and called “Abram” and I didn’t answer as I could tell something was wrong with her
voice. She called several times, finally mother came out with a shillelagh in her hand
(this is a club or board) and hit me a stroke across the shoulder and said, “you march over
and see what your grandmother wants”. I walked with my head down and she said,
“Abram”.
“Yes grandmother”, I said.
“Did you waste these cookies in this bowl”?
I shook my head, “no”.
She slipped a shillelagh out from under her apron and did she give me a good sound
whipping. I thought I had taken it long enough so I broke out and ran, her right behind me
as I turned the corner and stubbed my bare toe and fell head first into the grapevines. I
scrambled in behind them out of sight so she could not find me. I stayed there until it
began to get dark, then I crawled out and started home. My toe hurt awful but as it was
sure skinned up. I was limping along when grandmother called, “Abram don’t ever tell a
lie, ever. Just look at that poor toe, it has to suffer as well as you and that is what happens
if you steal or lie, somebody beside you is going to suffer”. I don’t believe I have ever
told a lie since. I may josh a little but that is all in fun.
I don’t know much about my grandfather Billot only he was a tall man with blond hair
and blue eyes and very quiet. Grandmother was the head of the house; he was just a work
boy. It was the same at our house, my mother was the boss.
My father was quiet, but when he spoke, we knew he meant it. He was blonde with blue
eyes. Mothers hair was brown and she had blue eyes. She was a big woman. Father
wasn’t as tall as Mother and he had broad shoulders. Mother did all the jawing and
scolding and was very stern. My father would go out to the farm, which was only a short
distance from the village. I liked to go with him and drive. We had about 10 acres where
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we raised enough hay for the cows. Father loved to fish and gather oysters. I can
remember Father didn’t work very hard. He wasn’t lazy. He just didn’t work hard.
Everyone on the island caught fish for market, we always had plenty but it seemed
everything came from grandmother. She was at the head and I can remember men
coming to the farm with a horse and cart and hauling milk away. I was just a youngster
and I don’t recollect just how but grandmother would give mother a few francs every
time after the men left with the milk.
We used to o out the seaside and gather seaweed. Father always took me along; all the
seaweed we could touch was ours. There were others there to gather it too. We had a
rake. It was like a hay rake but smaller. Father had a horse he would hook up to this rake
and when the side would go out we would hurry and rake all the weed we could find and
pile it up. When it was dry we would burn it and sell it for fertilizer.
One time when I was about seven years old the Elders came to our house to preach. There
was a large crowd, about 15 I’d surmise. While President Snow was preaching a crowd or
mob, call it what you may, gathered and threw stones through the windows, there was
about four windows in the room and they broke three. This was in an upstairs room. I was
sitting in the corner and one of the stones hit the table and bounced off right in front of
Brother Snow. He was never hit but several others were hurt and some were cut by the
glass and stones.
Grandmother was very angry with mother and wouldn’t allow her to come over anymore
after this meeting. She was very bitter to the Elders. Several people were baptized the
next day and they ordained Brother John Richardson.
The reason I am telling you about this is it was the first time I had ever seen them do this
and I was interested. I wanted to know what they were going to do with Brother
Richardson when they put him in a chair and put their hands on his head. I was
inquisitive as a cat when I was a youngster.
All father’s family joined the church but my sister Mary Ann. She married a man named
Richard Cormish. They moved to Canada. I never knew what happened to her. We didn’t
keep track of people when I was young as you do today.
My brother John was a captain of a ship. He kissed mother goodbye and left for Australia
and wee never heard of him any more.
Once when I was just a little shaver, my father took me to see his mother, my
grandmother Romriell. Her house was covered with grapevines too. I got lost and could
not find the door; I went around and around the house. I started to cry and father came
out and took me back into the house.
After we decided to come to America grandfather Billot taught father the shoemaker
trade. I think grandfather would have joined the church if grandmother hadn’t been so
bitter against it.
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My aunt coaxed me very hard not to go to America. She wanted me to stay with her. She
bought me a pony and everything to try and get me to stay. I used to hitch my pony on
the cart just at daybreak and go down to ocean to gather oysters, and take them to market.
Everyone wanted them because they were fresh. As soon as I got to market I would yell,
“Fresh Oysters”, and they were soon gone.
We started across the ocean a few days before my 12th birthday. The ships were not like
they are today, they were sail boats. There were times when we would almost stand still.
We would travel with the wind. Sometimes the wind would be so bad we thought we
would be swallowed up by the ocean. The men would hold a prayer circle and the storm
would quiet down to just right wind for sailing. I liked to talk to the captain and many
times I would sit by the fellow that steers the ship and watch the ocean.
A lady died on the ship and the sharks almost tipped up over. They followed the ship for
two days before she died. My mother told me they buried her in the ocean that night.
We arrived safe after five weeks on the ocean. The land sure looked good to all of us. We
landed in Philadelphia the last of June 1855. From here we went to Pittsburgh and then
on to St. Louis. We went from St. Louis to Hutchinson1 by boat. From there we traveled
on land to Mormon Grove. There we paid for our yoke of oxen and wagon. We were
camped at Mormon Grove for a few weeks waiting for our cattle to arrive. Wqhen they
arrived all the young ones in the camp ran to watch them hook the oxen together and
teach them to go ahead and turn right or left with a “Gee” and “Haw”. The man who was
training then Oxen yelled at me, “Hey there towhead come and let me show you how to
use this whip.” It took quite a few times before I could crack my whip. But before we
arrived at Salt Lake I could pick a horse fly off the oxen’s ear without making him jump.
I walked all the way across the plains at the age of 12. I felt very big helping yoke the
oxen and hitching them to the wagon. We received one cow with our oxen and at night
we would milk her. Mother usually did the milking, father was busy mending shoes all
day and until after I had gone to bed.
We were all happy to be on our way to Zion. Our company was the Charles Harper
Company. “We were all happy to be on our way to Zion. Company was the Charles
Harper Company. Everything went along fine until we reached the “Little Butte River”. It
started to rain just before we got there. By the time we got there the rain was coming
down in torrents. The first group got across all right. The leader came back to us there
was a cloudburst and before we could get started, we had to raise our wagon boxes 8
inches. Before we reached the other side, the water came into our wagon. We were next
to last. Father took the whip and coaxed the oxen across. Mother would keep telling us
young ones to hang on tight that father would make it through all right. The rest of the
company had to wait until they built a ferryboat before they could cross.
“Whenever we would stop we made a large circle of our wagons, fastening the tongue of
the wagon to the reach of the one in head. This was used as a corral for the oxen. Then
we would do the same, only make a smaller one for the people.”
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The men would unyoke the oxen while the youngsters gathered sage and buffalo chips to
make fires. The women were busy preparing food, making beds, and what not. The men
would always call to us youngsters, “Don’t go too far from camp, remember the Indians.”
I used to go with father on his trip around the circle to see if the tongue of each wagon
was securely tied to the other. I liked to watch the camp fires at night, as they would die
out first one then the other. There was always men standing guard to see that nothing
happened.
One night the oxen broke loose. They hunted all day for them. At last father back to our
wagon and asked mother if she had her “peep stone”.
She said, “Yes.”
He said; “Get it and see if you can help us find the oxen”.
She looked for a minute and told father they were in a grove of trees about five miles
from the camp. It was almost dark when the men came to the grove and found them.
From then on we traveled without mishap. We didn’t have any trouble with the Indians
thanks to the saints who had gone on before us.
After arriving in the valley I helped haul rocks and many times other jobs to help build
the Salt Lake Temple. I saw them tear it down and cover it up and rebuild it again. I
didn’t see it completed as I had to move from the valley.
I went from there to Ogden and there I met Mary Marley, at my first party. While we
were courting a bunch, of men I was working with got together and sent me with grist to
the mill. There was a dance that night and I told them I’d be back to take my girl. They
didn’t want me to be there and they were sure I wouldn’t be. I fooled them and got back
in time for the dance. Mary and I were later married by Stake President Brother Baird,
and went to the Temple later. I located at the place now known as Five Points.
President Young called for volunteers to make new locations and I sold my place and left
with a group to settle in Bear Lake. On our way we got caught by the winter snow and
had to leave our wagon and provisions only what we could carry. It was a bad winter and
before spring came we didn’t have anything top eat but the fish we got out of Bear Lake.
We boiled them without salt, but it was eat them or starve. There were not any white
people there when we arrived. Just Indians. That spring our son George as born while OI
was in the mountains helping get the rest of the food and bring it to camp. He was the
first white male child born there.
We moved from there to Robin, Idaho. I worked in the Bishopric for 14 years. After our
family was all grown we sold out and moved to McCammon. We had lived there only a
few years when my wife died.
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Marilyn Romriell tells this part of the story.
Grandfather had many accidents and narrow escapes but he was brave and kind and
always ready to lend a helping hand for everyone.
The school children would see him coming past the school house in his cutter and they
would run out and say, ”Give us a ride, uncle Abe”. Everyone called him that. He could
sit and tell you where things were that you lost. Seems he had some sort of inner vision.
I can remember , as a child of people coming to him and asking for help to locate cattle,
or many things lost and he could tell them where to find them.
He loved to dance and sing. Grandfather married Maren Eriksen Chandler about 18 years
after his first wife died. He died at the home of his son George at the age of 89 years. His
philosophy was, “If you want people to like you, you must like people and always be
good and the Lord will bless you.”
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Charles Abram Romriell stated that “we went from St. Louis to Hutchinson by boat,
from there we traveled on land to Mormon Grove”. On a church history map showing
settlements There was no Hutchinson, but an Atchison near Mormon Grove. Since
Grandpa Romriell could not read or write, and in telling the story from memory, he may
have meant Atchison. No attempt has been made to spell the settlement name. This is not
certain.
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