Edward Phillips 1813-1896 1
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Edward Phillips 1813-1896 1 Edward Phillips b. 2 April 1813 d. 1 Dec 1896 Fa. William Phillips Mo. Mary Pressdee Sp. Hannah Simmons Sp. Martha Hanley Taylor Sp. Helen C. Kimball Biographical Sketch of Edward Phillips Written by Sylvia Phillips in 1889 from Dictation Edward Phillips, son of William and Mary Phillips, born in Oxenhall Parrish, Glouscestershire, England, April 2, 1813. He was christened April 3, 1813. When six months old my father moved to Leigh Worcestershire Upper Sandlin, and there rented a farm of one hundred acres for three years. From there moved to Black House Creadley, Herefordshire; and rented a farm of seventy-five acres for four years then returning to Upper Sandlin and rented that farm again for three years. From there he moved to Creadley and rented another farm. While working there he was taken sick and died at Longly Groen Suckley, Worcestershire November 29, 1825 at the age of sixty-two. He married Mary Ann Pressdee in Worcestershire, being about ten years her senior. She was the mother of eleven children. From that time I employed myself farming and learning black smithing. I joined the society called the “United Brethren” whose President and leader was Thomas Kington. Everything worked well with us until within a year of the time Brother Wilford Woodruff arrived in our neighborhood. It seemed to me that we had come to a precipice and could not go any farther until Brother Wilford Woodruff placed a bridge over that precipice and we went on with glad hearts rejoicing. I went to hear him preach at Ridgeway Crossing, on or about March 15, 1840. A day or two following, I went to Hill’s Farm to hear him speak. When I started, my good old mother said, “Edward, I should think you will not come back without being baptized.” I obeyed this council. I was the only male member of my father’s family who received the gospel. My sister Susan followed suite. I was one of the forty-six preachers that Brother Woodruff speaks of in his, “Leaves of My Journal” The forty-six were baptized except one, that was Phillip Holdt. Brother Woodruff baptized me at Hill Farm where he baptized six hundred. He told me not long ago, that less had apostatized out of that lot than any other of the same number in the church. In a few days after I was baptized, I was ordained a priest and put in charge of two branches, Ashfield and Crocutt, with George Brooks as my assistant. This was near Sherrage, Leigh, Worcestershire. In the fall of that year, I was ordained an elder at the conference, under the hands of Brother Woodruff, and was sent to preach the gospel with Elder John Gaily to the Forest of Deane and Glouscestershire. There, I had the privilege of visiting my father’s family. We traveled and preached nearly a year and many were brought into the church under our administration. My mother embraced the gospel about this time under the hands of Brother Woodruff at a place called Moorings Cross, Maythen Parrish, Herefordshire, 1841. I left my home to emigrate to America. I went to Gloucester and in company with one hundred saints went to Bristol and boarded the “Carolina”, for America. We set sail for Quebec, August 8, 1841. We had a tedious voyage of eight weeks and three days, but landed safely. Thomas Richardson was our President. From Quebec we went to Montreal by steamer, and from Montreal through the lock to Kingston and then we sailed Lake Ontario to Lewiston. We had a fine view of the city of Toronto. From Lewiston we boarded the train (which was drawn by mules) for Niagra Falls. There we tarried one night and had a fine view of the beautiful falls. The next day, we boarded the train for Buffalo and arrived at that place after dark. We put up at the Farmers exchange for a week. We then boarded the Chespeake for where now stands the great city of Chicago. We hired a man to take us from there to Nauvoo with a team which contract he filled. We arrived at Nauvoo in the later part of October 1841 on Saturday. On Sunday, I was anxious to see the prophet. I attended a meeting there and saw him for the first time. I did not need an introduction for I knew him the moment I saw him. He preached the gospel of salvation to us that morning which caused my heart to rejoice. Next day, Monday, I went to work in quarrying rock for the temple, (that was my first days work in America) near the upper Stone House on the Mississippi River. I continued to work on the temple and the Nauvoo House, most of the winter. I boarded with an old friend by the name of Jenkins, a shoemaker. There I fell in love with my present wife, who had preceeded me a few weeks to America. On the 2nd of August, of the next year, being one year from the time I left home, we were married by Heber C. Kimball near Camp Creek in Hancock County. We were married in the presence of Benjamin Hill and wife. She bore me fifteen children, nine of whom are still living. Three of whom were born in Illinois, and the two first, a boy and a girl, died there. We were driven from their graves at the point of a bayonet which was very grievous to us. I had some land and made me a nice home hear where they were buried. I was working in the field near the house, when the news came that the prophet and his brother were killed at Carthage Jail. This made me shed bitter tears for I felt they were two good friends and I knew Joseph was a true prophet of God. He had said that he would go and die for the people. I was under arms in Nauvoo when he gave himself up. He discharged us and told us to go home and he would go and die for us. We would gladly have gone and stood between him and death, but he would not let us. I was ready and willing to go. We were quartered at the tithing yard and slept in the Nauvoo Exposition Building. We went one day for foliage for our horses, and met Gen. Joseph Smith with his staff in the street. He cheered us and said, “Well done, boys.” We had been out inspecting the ground where we expected to meet our enemies. Word came to our Captain one night that the pickett guard was driven in and we were ordered out in the dead of night to go and meet the mob. I was determined to go, and assist, so I borrowed a horse from a boy who did not want to go himself. Nevertheless, this proved to be a false alarm and I went back disappointed. The prophet said he would go and die for us. He did, and was butchered in cold Edward Phillips 1813-1896 2 blood. I was not there when he was killed, but I went later on and took my wife with me to show her the well, curb, and the window where he jumped out when he was shot. I have a Patriarchal blessing hanging in a frame in my room, which was pronounced upon my head by the prophet and patriarch, Hyrum Smith, in the fall of 1844, which is worth more than gold to me–gold is no name for it. The predictions are being literally fulfilled every day. I know if I prove faithful it will all come to pass. I knew then and also know now that Joseph was a true prophet of God, and that the mantle of Joseph fell on Brigham Young who was his legal successor. I was present at the meeting when this took place and heard with my own ears and saw with my own eyes. We all thought Joseph had come back to us although we knew he was in his grave. I was standing by the temple talking to Brother Woodruff and he pointed out a spot to me on the opposite side of the river about a mile and a half above Montrose, and said there would be a city and a temple built there and the place would be called Zarahemla. I was at Nauvoo when the temple was finished and dedicated. I went up into the tower and wrote my name there. As I understand, the wicked have burned the Temple to the ground and it is all destroyed like the Jerusalem Temple. But I expect to see that temple re-erected and the one built on the opposite side of the river to match. Before leaving Nauvoo in 1846 (for that was the time that we were driven far away) I went to McDonald’s near McAween’s Mill to try to sell my little farm. There I found a few of Joseph and Hyrum’s murderers drinking together. One of them was “Old Tom Dickson” of Locus Grove, and an old professed friend of mine. If it had not been for him, I expect they would have butchered me also for they placed a pistol in the hands of a little boy about eight years of age, and told him to say “Damn you Sir, I could kill you.” The little fellow swung his revolver and acted bravely over the affair.