Kaldte sig Christina Martena.
Life Sketch of Kirsten Ericksen Benson (Also listed as Christina
Martena in the international Genealogical index
and her Patriarchal Blessing) by Maud B. Jorgensen (grand-daughter)
Kirsten Ericksen Benson was born 23 February 1837, in Dokkedal,
Denmark. She was the second of her parents four daughters: Mette
Christina, born 1833; Kirsten, born 1837; Elizabeth, born 1839; and
Elsa Marie, born 1842. Her mother was Kersten Christensen, born 12
Dec 1806, in Dokkedal, and her father was Marcus Ericksen, born 19
September 1808, in Mov, Aalborg, Denmark.
Her parents were farmers and she grew up in the little village of
Dokkedal, near the seacoast, east and south of the city of Aalborg.
She told me how they used to drive cows to pasture, and that a Danish


mile was longer than one of our miles. She would tell us folk tales
of the little elves, and when she worked butter she would always put
a cross on it with the butter paddle; she said they always did that
in Denmark so the elves wouldn't steal it.
The first Latter-Day-Saint missionaries went to Denmark in 1850.
Soon afterwards, the Ericksen's heard the gospel message and were
baptized in 1852. Her maternal grandmother was also baptized.
Persecution began as soon as they became "Mormons". They did not
have means for all to make the journey to Zion together, so
preparations were made for two of the girls to leave. In December
1853, they bade goodbye to Mette, the eldest, and Elsa Marie, the
youngest daughter, whom they were never to meet again in this life,
as they started their long journey to gather with the Saints in Salt
Lake City. The Scandinavian Saints would go to England, and sail
from Liverpool to New Orleans, which was the port of entry for the
emmigrants for several years. They sailed up the Mississippi river
to St. Louis, and from there went on to Kansas City, Missouri
(Westport), where companies were outfitted to cross the plains in
1854. Many had died of cholera while coming up the river, and many
on the overland journey. Little Elsa Marie, not quite twelve years
old, was stricken with the dread sickness and died at or near
Florence (Omaha), Nebraska, and was burried in an unmarked grave.
Mette made the journey safely to Salt Lake City, where she worked in
the home of Truman Angell, until she married Jense Peter Benson in
April 1855. He had emmigrated from Denmark in 1853.
In November 1854, another sister Ann Elizabeth, fifteen years of age
sailed from Denmark for England with the Peter O. Hansen company.
They left Liverpool 7 January 1855 on the ship James Nesmith, about
four hundred in number, and reached New Orleans about the first of
March; then on up the Mississippi and on to Mormon Grove, Kansas
which was the outfitting point that year. She reached Salt Lake City


the first week in September 1855.
The next year the rest of the family prepared for their journey, but
the port of entry was now Philadelphia, so the ocean voyage was not
as long and they did not have to leave until spring. On 25 April
1857, grandmother (Kirsten), her parents and her grandmother left
Liverpool on the sailing ship Westmoreland, bound for America.
With the news of the marching of Johnston's Army to Utah in 1857, the


people left their homes and moved south. Mette and her husband had
been living in Salt Lake City, but moved to Lehi, so when grandmother


reached Salt Lake City in September 1857, sick and worn out with her
handcart journey, she had to go on south to find her sister.
Sometime after 1900, grandmother dictated her "recollections" and my
father, John H. Barker, wrote it for her. She never learned to write


English.
This gives the story in her own words:
Recollections of KIRSTEN ERICKSEN BENSON, Coming to Zion in 1857.
I left Copenhhagen, Denmark April 18, 1857 with my father and mother
and grandmother. I was 20 years of age and unmarried.
We stopped two days in Liverpool and on April 25th left there on the
sailing ship Westmoreland under Mathias Cowley, President, with 544
saints, and arrived at Philadelphia May 31st, having been five weeks
on the sea.
We were eleven days going from Philadelphia to Iowa City by rail, and


while on this journey I got separated from the company and was left
behind and lost, a young girl in the strange land, no friends and
could not speak English or make my wants known. I was telegraphed
for and found by the description of the clothing I wore, and made to
understand by the hands of a watch that I could go to my company by
train at 6:30 that night.
At Iowa City, we were organized as a handcart company under Captain
Christian Christiansen. There were about 100 handcarts with 3 ox
teams to help the sick and weak and carry some supplies and the
tents. We were only allowed to take 15 pounds weight of clothing,
and even bed clothes had to be left lying on the ground as we left
our camping place, for no one would buy them from us. This was a
very great trial to me, having brought good new clothing from Denmark


to leave on the ground for stangers to take.
We then started for Florence, Nebraska June 15, 1857. Each handcart
had six persons, but I was assigned to a cart having only 4 persons:
an old couple, a sickly girl and myself. We were heavily loaded with


provisions, and myself and the old gentleman were the pulling team.
We traveled through a settled part of Iowa for three weeks, burying
by the roadside some of the aged and young who had died from exposure


and hardships of the journey. We arrived at Florence the later part
of June and laid over one week to rest.
This three weeks hardship had proved that my father and mother and
grandmother, who was about 75 years old, could not stand the journey,


and decided that they stay behind in Omaha. (Her mother was lame and


walked with a cane.) I came to the conclusion that I could not leave
my parents in a strange country and so made up my mide to stay with
them.
The Captain of the company, C. Christiansen came to me and advised me


to leave my parents, and promised me if I would do so, God would
bless me and them, and preserve us. This was a very sore trial to
me, but I put my trust in God and the promise of His Priesthood, and
He has brought them to pass. July 1857 we started on the plains. It


was a day I shall never forget, full of sorrow in parting from my
parents.
About the fifth day out, I was worn out with pulling over the rough
roads, up hills and through the sand, and discouraged because I did
not beleive I could stand the journey, that I came to the conclusion
that I might as well die there as suffer longer, and I purposely
stayed behind while the company was traveling, and laid down in the
grass expecting to die there, believing there was no one behind me
and that I would not be found. Soon after this the Captain came
along and found me and helped me along. He promised me that when we
came to a hill or sand he would come and help me pull, and he kept
his promise and helped me. Soon after this the old couple who were
with my handcart died, and I was changed to a cart that had six
pullers, and my task was much easier than before.
It was now July and August and very hot on the plains and my shoes
were worn out. We had to get raw hide from the dead cattle along the


road and make shoes for ourselves so as to be able to pull. Crossing


the creeks and rivers would make the raw hide soft, and the hot sun
and roads would make it hard, and our feet were nearly all the time
sore and bleeding.
I being alone and having no bedclothes, had to sleep in an old shawl
in the tent, and coming through the mountains, the nights were cold
and freezing, and having to get up in my turn in the night to bake
bread I was often too warm on one side and much too cold on the
other.
When about 200 miles from Salt Lake City, we were overtaken by the
U.S. Army under General Johnston going to Utah to war with our
people, but they treated us kindly, and the army was a blessing to
our people in Utah.
About two weeks journey from Salt Lake City, the relief teams came to


our help, and oh! how thankful I was to be allowed to walk and not
have to pull the cart, for I was sick and worn out with the journey.


We arrived in Salt Lake City, September 13, 1857, having been five
months on the way from the time we left Denmark. When I saw how poor


the people were in clothing, for they were ragged, I could not help
remembering the good clothing we had left behind.
When we arrived in Lehi, where my sister lived, I was so sick and
weak that I was not expected to live, and Brother Hyde, (later Bishop


of Hyde Park) and Brother Rigby were called in to administer to me,
but I could not understand a word they said. Brother Benson being
there, interpreted it for me. I found kind friends who cared for me
and nursed me until I was well.
The next year my father and mother and grandmother came into the
valley safe and well. (They crossed the plains in Captain Iver N.
Iverson's ox-train, which arrived in Salt Lake City September 20,
1858). And so were fulfilled the promises of our captain, C.
Christiansen, made to me when I left my parents in Omaha. And so,
also, have been the promises of Brother Hyde when administering to me


in Lehi. I realize that I have been blessed of the Lord and
preserved for my obedience to the counsel of His Priesthood.

END

Kirsten was married to Jense Peter Benson, her sister's husband, as
third and plural wife, November 12, 1858.
Terms were arranged and Johnston's Army entered the valley peacefully


in 1858. They marched on through Salt Lake City, and down about 16
miles west of Lehi, where they founded Camp Floyd. Grandfather
(Jense Peter Benson) was a carpenter, and he, along with many others,


was able to get work there. It was a great help to the people at
that time. Grandmother said the soldiers would hire the women to
make wheat and barley beer for them.
New settlements were being founded in Cache Valley about this time,
so in 1867, grandfather went to Clarkston, which had been founded in
1864, and bought some land from George Davis and Bill Sparks, and in
the spring of 1868, moved there with Mette and her family.
Grandmother, Kirsten, with her children, Alma, Christina, Samuel, and


Marcus, stayed in Lehi that summer and raised a garden, and that
fall, they too moved to Clarkston.
In the spring of 1869, it was decided to make another settlement, so
a group of Clarkston men went about five miles south, were they
surveyed and laid off a new town site, which they named Newton. My
grandfather was one of this group. He built a log house, plowed and
sowed some grain, and in the fall moved Mette and her family there.
Their children were Mary, Martha, Peter, John, and Elizabeth, who was


born in Clarkston. The home in Newton was in the southwest corner of


the town, where Ernest Jensen lived at one time.
Later grandfather bought the Atkinson place across the street, south
of the public square. He owned the north half of the block. Their
first home was of logs, but later he built a rock house on the
northeast corner, which around 1960 was still being lived in by his
grandson's widow and family. (It has since been sold to Kathryn
Rassumsen, a great-grandaughter). I have many happy memories of that


old home, for I used to spend a lot of time there playing with my
cousin. I remember so well the trap door in the board ceiling of one
of the upstairs bedrooms, that opened into the attic, a hiding place
when the federal marshals came to town hunting for those who had more


than one wife. (EDITORIAL NOTEBY great-great-grandson: The trap door


was in the West bedroom, in the closet).
Life was hard, indians frightening, and grandmother said the first
year or two in Clarkston she did not know what it was not to be
hungry. When they moved to Clarkston, they took along one of the
Johnston's Army cannon balls, and they used it to crush or grind the
wheat for bread. While living there, Alice, Isaac, and Rastus were
born, Rastus living only about eleven days. She was living there
when Martin Harris, one of the witnesses of the Book of Mormon, died
in 1875. Grandfather Benson made his coffin, and my mother
remembered watching him make it.
In 1876, her sister, Mette, died soon after the birth of her tenth
child; he died, too. She had burried two little girls in Lehi, and
one in Newton, leaving six living children, the two oldest married.
The home in Clarkston was sold to a Mr. Loosle, and grandmother moved


to Newton. Now there was a family of ten to care for. Besides the
regular work of a home and family, there were many other tasks in a
pioneer home, such as washing and carding wool, then spinning it into


yarn and knitting socks and stockings, making clothing, and hats from


straw that was carefully gathered and braided with seven strands,
homemade soap made with lye from wood ashes, making tallow candles
and potato starch. They also made dye from plants and roots to dye
the yarn. I remember the spinning wheel made by grandfather and
remember seeing mother spin on it.
In 1879, grandfather married Christina Nielsen, who had come from
Denmark in 1878. He built her a frame home west of Grandmother's,
about in the center of the block. They had a family of five,
Caroline, Margaret, Nephi, Annie (Anna) and Joseph, who died while a
baby.
Grandfather was arrested for polygamy in 1887. He was fined one
hundred dollars and sentenced to six months in the Utah State
Penitentiary (NOTE: Located in the Sugarhouse area of Salt Lake
City). He left Friday, 23 December 1887, and was discharged
Thursday, 24 May 1888, having served five months.
In 1898, he was working on a buiding and fell from the roof. He died


soon
after from the injuries, 21 June 1898, at the age of 67 years.
Grandmother's youngest son, Isaac, was married in December 1898 and
he and his wife Lucy Atkinson of Clarkston made their home with her.


Lucy had a sweet disposition, and was always good and kind to
grandmother. They got along well together. Although she had her own


room, she had been too hard a worker in her life to take it easy now,


and as her five grandchildren came along, she helped in every task in


the home. Some of the memory pictures I have of her are cooking
meals, slicing bread, watching her make and fry doughnuts or
crullers. She cut the dough in oblong pieces, made a slit in the
center, gave them a quick twist, and popped them into the kettle.
How we youngsters enjoyed them as soon as they were cool enough to
eat! I can see her tending babies, rocking them in the cradle, see
her peel apples and put them out to dry, cut and dry blue plums (the
lot was full of fruit trees), canning fruit, carding wool, knitting
socks and mittens, churning, working and molding butter, making
quilts, sewing and patching, reading her Danish paper, then pushing
her glasses up on her forehead and forgetting where they were, and
having everyone around hunting for them. My sister, Sue, remembers
how she loved to have someone brush and comb her hair. She prayed
aloud, she didn't just say her prayers, she really talked to the Lord


as if he were right beside her. She was a small woman; I judge not
over five feet one or two inches, had blue eyes. She never lost her
Danish accent, and when we youngsters were especially provoking she
would scold us in Danish by saying "for shame on you". I remember
the enlarged picture of her parents that hung on the wall in her
room, and a beautiful cream colored silk shawl that she used to wear
to church in mild weather. I have a stole made out of her black
plush cape. She had a homemade carpet on her floor and a "feather
tick" on her bed.
On the evening of 29 August 1910, my father who had passed away in
February came to mother and told her to go tell grandmother he had
found a place for her. I remember how pale and weak mother was that
day, Sunday, 30 August, but she went over and delivered the message.


Grandmother didn't take it seriously, at least outwardly, but 28
September, she had a stroke, and was unable to speak a word while she


lay sick. Five of her six children lived in Newton, but Samuel at
the time was on a homestead in Sublett, Idaho. Word was sent to him
and after he came she seemed content, and on 22 October 1910, she
passed away, aged 73 years and eight months, a dear kind soul who had


passed through all the trials of pioneer life, and whose faith and
testimony had grown stronger with every year of her life. She left
two daughters and four sons: Alma, Christina, Marcus, Samuel, Alice
and Isaac, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
From 1906 to 1908, her son Alma filled a mission to Denmark and
visited her birthplace, Dokkedal. Her son, Marcus, filled a mision
to the Northern States from 1905 to 1907. Her great grandson, Neal
Jorgensen, filled a mission to Denmark from 1948 to 1951. The
centennial of the Danish mission was celebrated in 1950, and he was
privileged to be the Church photographer for the festivities. While
laboring in Aalborg, he was able to visit her birthplace, too.

Transcribed by Annette Hancey Lunceford