Parts of this life history were related to Anne Mette Madsen Call by her 90 year old mother, Anne Mette Eriksen Madsen.

Anne Mette Eriksen (Ericksen) was born 15 December 1839 in Mørkholt, Gårslev, Holmans, Vejle, Denmark, and her christening was 2 Feb 1840 in Gårslev Parish, Vejle, Denmark. The daughter of Soren William Eriksen (1819–1872) and Bolette Christine (Bodil Kirstine) Kyhn (1814–1901). She was the oldest child of the family and her early childhood days were spent in helping to care for her younger brothers and sisters. Siblings; Erick Erickson (1841–1899), Hans Eriksen (1844–1924), Mette Katrina [Eriksen] Mortensen (1846–1932), Anna Maria Eriksen (1849–1907) and Maren Elizabeth [Eriksen] Chandler/Mulrannen/ Romriell (1856–1930). Growing up in a peasant family required Anne to work hard. At times she worked as a field hand, at others she helped cut up and cure the meat of sheep and cattle slaughtered to feed the large crews of workmen on the estates. She also made butter and cheese and helped keep the houses clean and in order. She learned to take raw wool from the sheep's back, clean, card, spin, weave, and sew it to make her own dresses. According to Anne " I was the first born of the family of Soren William Ericksen and Bolette Christine Kyhn. Denmark is predominately rolling flat lands and the climate is usually considered moderate. Denmark was quickly developing into a modern industrial nation but my father enjoyed his peasant farming existence. My mother Bolette was an industrious sweet spirit and was a delightful helpmate and homemaker. She was modest and unassuming. We belonged to the Evangelical Lutheran Creed as did 97% of the population of my country. Records of my family can be found at the Garslev Parish in Vejle, Denmark. It was compulsory law in my country to educate the children so at the tender age of 7, I started my educational training. I remember the excitement of this experience. Our school was divided so that each of us children attended every other day. I would then come home and learn to weave flax into linens. It was customary for a young lady of our village to work outside the family home when she was in her early teens. My mother needed me but every penny earned was a welcome relief to our family budget. I was thirteen when I went to work off and on for the Soren Hansen family. It was while I was there one evening helping the family that a missionary from the United States came knocking at the door. His name was Soren Iverson. I wondered about the squeals of laughter and the greeting that was being exchanged between my employer and this young man but by keeping my ear to the hallway I concluded that this young man was a brother to the lady that I was working for. (Note: I found no family connection but the missionary probably referred to Ane, the wife of Soren Hansen as Sister Hansen.) After a bit, I heard the chairs being rearranged and the voices muffled as if they were trying hard not to be heard. This only added to my curiosity so I quietly tip-toed to within a shadowy distance and was cautious enough not to be detected. To my amazing astonishment, I saw this young man with his hands placed upon the head of his sister and giving her a blessing of health. He called upon the Lord with such profound humbleness, I could not help but be impressed. After the blessing, I saw a change come over his sister. I was sure that I saw color come into her pale, waxed face. This young man brought a message of the Gospel into their home that I had never heard before. The story that he was relating left me spellbound. I was so impressed that I made no attempt to move until I could see the discussion coming to a conclusion. I remember at the time that I was so warmed by this encounter that I looked forward to going home and relating the story to my parents. The next day, I was at home helping my mother. She had taught me well, how to spin the flax into fine linen and to knit the stockings and mittens for the family. It was while we were working thus that I finally found the courage to approach my mother on the subject of this young missionary from the United States. After my mother heard me relate in detail this fascinating story, she cautioned me not to tell a soul about this encounter. She was sure this would be displeasing to our own parishioners and she did not want anyone in our village to know that my tender ears had beheld such an experience. I immediately felt guilty as being an obedient child, I wouldn't have hurt my parents for anything. I decided to put the incident behind me and forget if I might the beautiful encounter I had witnessed this night of my life but try as I might, the words and power that this young missionary had so expressed would not dissipate from my mind. I continued to go about my chores and work hard there for the many families that seemed to always need my humble services. It was while I was working in one of the homes that my run down condition finally caught up with me as I was not a strong sturdy young lady but was of a more delicate nature. They brought me home in a very serious condition experiencing a great deal of excruciating pain. My compassionate parents put me to bed and informed me that I was to remain there until I was strong enough to be up and about. I wished in my heart that I could call upon that young missionary to do for me what I had seen him do for his sister. It was in this frame of mind that I had a strange dream. I dreamed that while suffering this pain, that two men had come to me and had rubbed the illness from my aching soul. When I awoke, I was experiencing no pain. I was weak but the pain was gone. This made me even more curious over this new found religion. Why was it ever burning in my heart? While I was recuperating, I detected hushed words being discussed by my parents about the visits of two Mormon missionaries. It was their opinion that they too enjoyed the spirit and teaching of these young men. They would listen and give it a lot of consideration while they were out marketing and doing chores. One day, I heard a sharp rapping at the door. I got up hesitantly from the cot where I was resting and was surprised to find the same young missionary (Soren Iverson) with his companion, Elder Johnson. I was hesitant to let them in but they convinced me that my father and mother had told them that they could return and visit. They were giving their message when one of them opened up his Bible and started preaching repentance. I suddenly felt a strong rebellion. I felt as though they were talking directly to me. I was surprised at my directness and sharp tongue when I replied to them that "I didn't have anything to repent about. I had lived a good noble life and I was an example for my brothers and sisters to follow as I had been taught by my goodly parents, and besides I have a good religion I believe in and I didn't need any other." At this, this spunky missionary, Elder Johnson from somewhere called Provo, Utah stomped his foot angrily at me and shook his finger at me and said "You just mark my word young lady, the next time we shall meet, you'll be converted a member of our church, for we are The CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST of Latter-day Saints." I mumbled as I led them to the door. I wouldn't join his church if it were the last church on earth. After they left, I leaned against the door and cried to myself, "Now, why did I do that? Why did I say those unkind things to those humble servants of God?" In the next few weeks my parents were the ones encouraging me to listen to other follow up missionaries from this church. It was then that I realized, that my parents were not only interested but were already making plans to be baptized into this church. It was of the utmost importance that my being their eldest child that by my making the decision to join would hasten the conversion of my younger brothers and sisters. I could see how profoundly important it had become to them and soon witnessed my family become a part of this new gospel that was now brought back to the earth by the Prophet Joseph Smith who translated the Book of Mormon from the golden plates he found hidden. Happily, I was converted and was baptized on the 5th of October 1861 at Morkhold, Denmark and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints during Sacrament meeting with the Saints that gathered at Vejle, Denmark. I was at this time, a young lady of 22 [years]". At the age of 23, Anne became the first of her family to immigrate to Utah. She left Denmark with Soren Hansen, his wife, Ane Marie and their four children; (Hans was 8 years old, Caroline was 6, Franklin was 4 & Lars was 16 months old when the family immigrated). Again, according to Anne, "I was working for a family by the name of Mr. & Mrs. Soren Hansen. They were newly converted and were making plans to make the pilgrimage to the United States and live in the new State of Zion that I understood was the State of Utah. In their enthusiasm, they kept insisting that I come with them. The children had come to depend on me so much that I felt a tug at my heart to consent to go with them. After careful consideration and a lot of serious talks with my parents, they gave their consent and with their blessings and a tearful good-bye we left Denmark with a goodly amount of other Saints in 1863. The journey was anything but joyful...we were on the water for weeks and Mrs. Hansen carrying another child was ill the entire time so the care of this family was on my shoulders." Anne Mette along with the Hansen family left Copenhagen, Denmark in April 1863 with a company of members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. According to information included in several journals of fellow travelers, "About four hundred Saints, immigrating to Utah, sailed form Copenhagen, Denmark, April 20, 1863. This was the first division of a large emigrant company of Scandinavian Saints which left Copenhagen that spring. The emigrants, after a pleasant voyage on the Baltic, landed at Kiel, Holstein, Germany whence they traveled by railroad to Altona, Germany and there boarded the steamer 'Tiger,' bound for Hull, England and the steamer 'Lord Cardigan, bound for Grimsby, England, and sailed the same evening. President N. Smith and the mission clerk (Carl Larsen) left Copenhagen by rail in the evening of the 20th for Korsor and thence traveled by steamer to Kiel, where they joined the emigrants and then accompanied them to Altona. Brothers Smith and Larsen went on board the 'Tiger' at Altona in order to accompany the larger company of the two to England. Stormy weather caused delay of 36 hours at Cuxhaven, at the mouth of the Elbe River, but at last the ship put to sea. The magnificent vessel fought bravely against the strong contrary wind and the angry sea, and, though the voyage was long and unpleasant, the emigrants arrived safely in Hull in the morning of April 26th. At the landing the emigrants were met by Elder John M. Kay, who was awaiting them with a small steamer, which after an hour's sailing landed the passengers from the 'Tiger' at Grimsby, England where a large and convenient house had been hired for the use of the emigrants during their brief stay in Grimsby. The emigrants who had sailed from Altona on the steamer 'Lord Cardigan' arrived in Grimsby on April 27th. On both steamers the officers and crews treated the emigrants with all due courtesy. From Grimsby the journey was continued by rail to Liverpool, where the company arrived April 28th, and there joined the second division of Scandinavian Saints which left Copenhagen April 23rd.
The second company of emigrating Saints (about 200 souls), bound for the gathering places of the saints in the Rocky Mountains, sailed from Copenhagen, April 23, 1863, per steamship 'Aurora.' This was the second division of a large company of emigrating Saints who left Scandinavia that spring for Utah. The steamer 'Aurora' arrived in Kiel in the morning of April 24th, and the same day the Saints went by special railway train to Hamburg where lodgings were secured for them in a large emigrant building, while their baggage was being transferred to the large and beautiful steamer 'Grimsby,' on which they went on board in the evening. This steamer sailed from Hamburg on the 25th and after a successful voyage of two days on the North Sea arrived at Grimsby, England, Monday morning, April 27th. Here the emigrants spent the night in a freight house. The following day (April 28th) the company went by train to Liverpool, where the Scandinavian emigrants and 113 English Saints boarded the ship 'John J. Boyd,' the total number of souls now being 766. The company was organized by President George Q. Cannon, who appointed William W. Cluff leader, with Elders Knud H. Bruun and William S. Baxter as his counselors. Later the company was divided into seven districts. The ship sailed from Liverpool on the evening of April 30th, but anchored out in the [Mersey] river until the next morning (May 1st), when the 'John J. Boyd' lifted anchor and started on its voyage across the Atlantic. The voyage proved a pleasant one and lasted only 29 days. On board, the emigrants received good food in abundance. Every seventh day a ration for each person was issued consisting of one and one-half pounds of rice, two pounds of peas, one pound of pork, two pounds of beef, three pounds of potatoes, three pounds of oatmeal, one-fourth pound of tea, two ounces of pepper, two ounces of mustard, one-half pint of vinegar and a quantity of English sea biscuits. Besides this, the sick obtained wine, milk, sago, sugar and soup from the captain's kitchen. Elder Peter O. Thomassen writes that Brother William W. Cluff won for himself the admiration of the Saints and gave perfect satisfaction in performing his difficult duties as leader of the company. The sanitary condition on board was very good; only four or five persons died on the sea. The monotony of the voyage was one day (May 21st) broken by seeing eight mighty icebergs swaying in majestic grandeur upon the shining billows, glittering in forms of purest crystal. They were accompanied by a wintry degree of cold, and to make the illusion of the polar seas more effective five whales were seen playing about the ship, sending the water like springing fountains high in the air. Here is another account that paints a little different picture; The group next set sail on the 30th of April on a three mast sailing vessel, called the John J. Boyd. The same afternoon, we were given our respective cabins where we took quarters for our journey, being one thousand in number, of which seven hundred sixty-five were Mormons. The ship was so crowded we could hardly move around, and some of the Saints things were stolen. While crossing the ocean we witnessed many harrowing experiences. The sailors were really a tough lot, and would steal anything they could lay their hands on. In our group of Saints the men would take turns standing guard during the nights. There were five people died on the way over. We witnessed one man's body being thrown overboard. He was wrapped in a blanket and tied on a slab, then tied a sack of coal to his feet then tossed it overboard into the ocean. It was a terrible sight. Some screamed, others fainted. It was the last time they let anyone witness this again. When we neared the coast of Greenland we got in among five big icebergs, and we nearly froze.
After twenty-nine days on the ocean we arrived in New York, May 29, 1863. All members had to remain on board until examined by the doctors to make sure no disease would be spread. This took considerable time. After being examined, we were transferred to a place called Castle Garden where we remained until evening. Here we were transferred by rail across the Hudson River and further across the states. Due to the Civil War at the time, we were transferred several times to several trains a day, sometimes being forced to ride in cattle cars. This was not very comfortable, as there were no seats and we had to sit on the floor. In transferring our baggage, the handlers would often break into our trunks and cut holes in our leather satchels to steal our belongings. We had to be on guard constantly, day and night. By doing this, they got little for their trouble. After three days, we arrived in Florence, Nebraska, on the thirteenth day of June.
Still another account, The 'John J. Boyd' arrived safely with its precious cargo of souls in New York harbor, and on Sunday, June 1st, the emigrants were landed at Castle Garden. In the evening of the same day they took the railroad cars at New York, traveled up near the Hudson River to Albany. Changed cars & on to Niagara, crossed the river just below the Falls into Canada, run across a portion of Canada to Windsor, then crossed a small lake to the American side at Detroit. From Detroit on to Chicago, then again to Quincy on the Mississippi River, cross the River to Hannibal, then to Palmyra and on to St. Joseph City, Missouri. Here ended our journey by rail. We then went on board a river steamboat and traveled up the Missouri River to Florence, Nebraska, being on the boat 3 days and 2 nights. We were about 2 weeks on this part of our journey from New York. The emigrants arrived in Florence June 11th, all well. Here some of them remained about six weeks. Soon after their arrival in Florence they were joined by the emigrants who had sailed from Copenhagen April 30, 1863. . . ."
It appears that Anne was part of the group that remained in Florence for a few weeks before they joined Captain John R. Young's company. That company left Florence on 7 July with 240 persons in 47 wagons. 3 weeks later on the 28th of July near Ash Hollow, Garden, Nebraska, the cattle stampeded. The following is an account of what happened from Captain John R. Young. "Before our company left Omaha, two American families joined us. They were rough Nebraskan farmers, and one of the men, whom I will call Jerry, was of great service to me. He was good-natured, strong and fearless. A younger brother of mine was also with me. He, too, was quiet and reliable. At prayer time (27 July) I told the people that I feared the Indians were following us, and that they would try to stampede our stock, which I dreaded above all things.
I had seen the effects of stampedes in my first trip across the plains. A tornado is but little more to be dreaded than the rush of a large herd of crazy, frightened cattle. I have seen wagons mashed to stove wood, and strong men trampled to death. I therefore requested Jerry and my brother to spread their blankets near me, and I kept my best horse saddled ready for any emergency...and the emergency came about 3 o'clock in the morning. A wild yell like an Indian war-whoop rang out on the air, followed by a rush of cattle. In an instant all was confusion; women and children tumbled pell mell out of the wagons in their night clothes, screaming and fainting. The men, guns in hand, formed bands and rushing in front of the cattle, fought desperately to keep them from bolting and caused the crazy beasts to run in a circle. Every round brought them nearer the wagons and I knew if they struck them that we were ruined. My pen is too weak to describe the heart-rending scene that followed the fearful rushing of the wild, stampeded cattle. Wagons were jolted against wagons with such force that the inmates were thrown out, to be run over and trampled under foot by other mad teams following in their rear. On they came, tearing blindly in any direction that their crazy fear led them. Wagons were embedded in the mire of the creek and the tongues jerked out. At last the [cattle] began to scatter and then stop. Children ran instinctively to their parents for protection. In groups they wandered from their teams, avoiding them as though they had become beasts of terror to them. I rode to my brother and directed him to the selected camping place. He unhitched his team, and, driving the oxen some distance away, unyoked each , turned its head toward the off one's tail, then yoked it again. In this shape, as long as yoke and bows held, there was no danger of stampeding.
The movement was like a revelation to the people, and they took new hope. I rode from wagon to wagon directing their movements and checking noise and confusion. By sundown the camp was formed, the cattle secured, the guards placed and fires lighted. Then I turned my attention to the wounded ones. I had but little knowledge of surgery, but all eyes were turned to me. With a prayer for God's blessings to attend my efforts, I sewed up gaping wounds and set broken limbs. But there were two lovely women and one man who needed no help of mine. Loving hands smoothed the hair, closed the eyes and loving lips kissed the pale brows. Then white sheets were spread over them and they were left to rest. On the morrow, in the near hillside, we dug their graves, and of the dear old family chests, coffins were made. Then a venerable man, in workman's garb, spoke sweet words of comfort:
"Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord and whether they rest on prairie wild, or sleep in the city's polished sepulchers, it matters not, so God's will is done. In the resurrection morn, they shall come forth, clothed with life and immortality."
The next excerpt is from an account from the journal of Hans P. Lund... "Jul 28 at 2 am. our oxen trampled several times and ran up the hills. Captain and some brethren at horseback and on foot followed them, we drove 2 miles and they began trampling again. When they stopped 6 persons were badly hurt. Soren Hansen's wife [Ane Marie] died after 1 hour, str. [sister] Valborg died after 5 hours and Ole Jensen died after 2 days. This was a day of sorrow. We buried them in the grave of Zion. 1 ox broke its leg and was butchered. Our journey that day was 3½ miles".
Anne's account of the journey is as follows: "When we arrived in the United States, we were told that we were going to travel in a covered wagon caravan under the direction and supervision of Captain John R. Young. The Hansen's three little children and the baby were not the best travelers. Mrs. Hansen was left ill from all this ordeal [the journey from Denmark] and it was a burdensome responsibility. The Saints gathered together were a mixed lot, speaking a variety of different languages but banded together in a united cause. Under the most adverse conditions of hardship, the spirit of this unusual people was seemingly high and full of driving faith. All seemed to go as well as could be expected until we left a little community called Florence, this being the morning of 7 July 1863. After weeks of this pilgrimage, learning to take advantage of all water holes, cleaning swiftly and efficiently when we were stopped. We would all fall upon our beds exhausted and sure we would never be able to arise to the new responsibilities of a new day but we would awake with a rekindled energy and do what was expected of us unwavering. It was three months after I left the peaceful world of my beloved Denmark when we heard a terrible thunder of cattle on the move. "STAMPEDE" was the cry that rang out. This strange word had no meaning to us but the feeling of doom was in our hearts as we saw a large heard of cattle on the move headed straight toward our wagons. My first thought was to gather the children. Mrs. Hansen rallied long enough to climb down and help me. During this traumatic experience, the horses panicked on the wagon behind us and both Mrs. Hansen and I were knocked to the ground in the mayhem. I remember a searing pain across one side of my head and down the side of my body but the will to live gave me the strength to survive, I jumped up and ran [barefoot] through the sage brush and prickly pears, numb to the sting until peaceful oblivion claimed me for the next few moments of my life. It was painful to open my eyes but when I did, I felt four men carrying me on a makeshift stretcher of two blankets fastened together hurriedly on two poles. I had presence of mind to search for my darling friend, Mrs. Hansen. I was horrified to see she had been fatally injured by the many hooves of the stampeding cattle. My grief was not for myself but for her husband and for those darling children who would never know the joy of their mother's touch again. I found myself silently praying for judgement, for understanding. Had we not prayed for protection against dangerous elements, for ourselves and loved ones? Why then, my Father was this to be our cup? It was then that I did some intense listening. I was aware of the glances of many of the survivors of this fateful day that came to the emergency tent that was set up for those of us who were injured. I was aware of shocked glances as they surveyed my damaged head and body. My new found friends were walking away crying for they thought that I would never recover. I laid like this for two weeks, unable to move but still the Hansen baby was laid at my side, hungrily crying most of the time and I could hear the whimpering's of the other three Hansen children calling first for their mother, then for me. The agony of this time was embroidered into my life forever. I finally summoned a friend of mine to ask Captain Young to come and administer to me which he did that afternoon. Something great and marvelous took control of my body and that evening, I walked down to the camp prayer meeting. The journal of Hans P. Lund states that on "July 30th they had crossed some creeks and here we met 9 brethren who had been sent out from the Church". Hans Peter Madsen who had arrived in Utah a few years previous must have been among them because Anne relates the following, "I had met a young man by the name of Hans Peter Madsen on this Mormon trek. He seemed honestly concerned for my well being and asked if he might give some assistance to me in anything I might need. In all my suffering...I was experiencing the joy of falling in love." John R. Young's Independent wagon train arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah on 12 September 1863. Hans Peter Madsen who with his wife Kirstine had emigrated from Denmark in 1860 was looking for help on the farm and he invited Anne to come and live with them. Later, Kirstine, who was unable to have children urged her husband to take Anne as a plural wife. Anne relates the following; "It took a few months to get everyone settled into a new life. Mr. Soren Hansen found a new relationship that seemed encouraging and it wasn't long until Hans asked for my hand in marriage. Anne was agreeable, and she and Hans Peter were married in the Endowment House on 19 December 1863. Again from Anne, "Overcoming the language barrier was the most difficult but the Saints managed to learn their new language in a spirit of progression. The members of the church that were connected were mostly colonized together so that we would not be left vulnerable to the elements as well as this strange new land. We were sent to colonize and build the area up at a place called Big Cottonwood (Box Elder County). This new land was a struggle. We did anything in order to make a living. Mostly we were programmed to live off the land. Those of us that had come from Denmark found this a comfortable idea but the climate was totally different and had to be dealt with carefully. After two years of complete struggle, Hans Peter listened to my council and in the spring of 1865, leased cows to milk and we moved up to Parley Parks Canyon. Our little son Hans Peter Jr. was born by this time. I made cheese and butter from my old home training and Peter sold these at Camp Douglas. He was delighted to receive 50 to 60 cents a pound." In the winter of 1866 they boarded and lodged the men at what was called the "Home Station" at Parley Parks Canyon. These boarders were those who rode the stage. According to Anne the men changed horses here and she cooked and fed whomever came this route. An incident occurred while at this place which caused her to acknowledge the hand of God in guiding and protecting her life once more. Anne goes on to say, "It was a hard life but we managed to get through the trials and tribulations. We hired an extra man to feed and care for the horses. He was given the name as Station Tender. The persecution of the Saints was a common circumstance for this peculiar people. Hideous stories of their slaughter and torture is recorded in the history our our church. One morning, the Station Tender came in and hurriedly remarked that there was some hard looking hombres outside looking to pick a fight. They had come in on the stage, intoxicated and being very abusive. They opened up the ice house where we had some ice stored in saw dust and started throwing it through the windows. My first instinct was to be defensive but one look at the Station Tender showed me he knew they meant business and he was serious. Hans started to defend our home and property but I persuaded him to stay right where he was. It was getting late and I knew the best way to settle men down was to feed them. A neighbor had let her young daughter come help me with our little son while I did the cooking, so I handed her the baby and sent her to the back of our house and I went about setting the meal on the table. The ring-leader of the bunch was a big, strong, bully of a man. He briskly walked past me and put his hands upon Hans Peter. He was abusive to my husband and it was a critical time for action. I announced to the men that it was time to eat and to come sit up to the table. It was then that I cried unto the Lord through my mind, to please help us in this critical time. The big man picked up the lantern and carried it into the room where I had set the table and left us standing in the dark. I cautioned Hans Peter not to say anything and to leave quickly and get the girl and our baby and leave. He started to object but I reassured him the Lord would protect me for I had asked for His protection. Peter obeyed as all instincts told him it was wise at this time to do so." Anne then went into the other room and asked for the light back as she couldn't see to set the food on the table. The men became very loud and cursed and swore at her. The leader of the group sat down to the table and started to sharpen his wicked looking knife. According to Anne, "He slurred and gritted his teeth and asked me to send my husband in. I said that Peter had left and I didn't know where he was headed. This angered him and he started throwing my dishes and being very destructive. I told him that we wouldn't be able to eat if he broke all the dishes. One of the other men told him "Annie's right, don't break anymore of her dishes." They sat down and ate then jumped up and said they were going to look for my husband. They started shooting at everything in the dark. My heart was truly full of fear. They shot the milk house doors and the stable doors full of holes. How they kept from killing the stock or injuring them, I'll never know. I cast about only to find they had our hired man and were abusing him by striking him from one side to the other. I guess when I saw this my weakness dissipated and I was surprised at my own aggressive behavior. I walked right up to the ring leader and said, Look here, if you are going to do any killing, get out of here. I don 't want any blood shed in my house. The while I was confronting the men for their obnoxious behavior, the Station Tender made a quick exit and escaped into the dark. The disgruntled men then went to their rooms and hopeful, I thought, they were going to bed only to return with rekindled hatred and demanded to know where my husband had lit out to. I finally replied that I was sure that he had gone to the Gates (the Gates would have been a place to go for help as there were always a number of campers there at night). At this remark, they looked somewhat frightened and finally left. I thought that I detected smoke so I went into their room and to my dismay found that they had raked the hot coals out of the fireplace onto the floor and placed the stock tenders trunk on top of the coals thinking to burn it and the house." Anne was able to extinguish the fire before it had done much damage to the floor and trunk. Anne continues "The next morning, making sure that it was safe to return, the Station Tender showed up and gave me his heartfelt thanks for saving his life. He repeated that some of the folks about had told him that those wicked man had plotted his death and were going to throw his body under the bridge into the river. He said, "Annie, I owe you my life! Do you know what kind of power you had over those men? They obeyed every word you commanded." I told him of my own fears and how I called upon the Lord to help us all at this time of need and it was through His direction that they got through the night alive! You owe me no thanks...thank the Lord for delivering you, not me. The next day, news of our trouble brought an agent to investigate our dilemma but the men never came back. Hans and I decided we would sell the post and locate again at Big Cottonwood. Two children later and in the year of 1868, we moved to Willard, Utah where we homesteaded a tract of land. We enjoyed a more normal pace of life and built a nice comfortable home. Hans became indispensable to the town and was supportive to the cause. He helped many a neighbor and they returned his favor in kind. I joined the ladies newly organized Relief Society that Bishop Brenton's wife was installed as the president. I served in this capacity as a teacher for over twenty years of faithful service. Hans and I became the parents of seven children." Hans Peter Madsen Jr. (1864-1946), Anne Mette [Madsen] Call (1867-1941), Christina Madsen (1869-1940), Mathew Madsen (1871-1944), Serena Katherine [Madsen] Mason (1873-1947), Charles Madsen (1875-1907) and Zina Madsen (1878-1880). In the home industries of her native country, Anne prepared the wool all the way from the sheep's back until it was ready for the loom. All her dresses as well as yarn for her stocking were prepared by her. She also prepared the flax from the stalk for all her linens. She would card the wool roles before spinning them. Since coming to Utah and while at Big Cottonwood she was able to put her skills to use and she was able to make the wool into clothing for the children. She would make them dresses and suits all by hand.
Hans died in 1906 and Anne lived out the remainder of her life in the family home that Hans built for her. After a long life she finally just wore out. She passed away at the age of 94 years on 11 February 1934 at her home in Willard, Box Elder, Utah. Cause of death was Senility (old age). She was laid to rest next to her husband in the Willard Precinct Cemetery.
Biography compiled by 2nd Great-granddaughter, Lorraine Simmons.