Death of Julia Boice

Benjamin Boice and Martha Eliza Philpot

DEATH OF JULIA BOICE


This life story is located in Leta Boice Boutwell’s Book of Remembrance

(Spelling and punctuation corrections have been made– no changes were made to the sentence structure or voice – other corrections will be shown in parenthesis –Linda Fretwell Duchaine – June 2007)

This story was originally written by Julia’s stepmother Samantha Tryphena Brimhall Boice Foley Daughter of Benjamin Boice and Martha Eliza Philpot, sister of John Edwin Boice. The beautiful young woman of whom I am about to write died at the age of sixteen, about two miles south of the village of Oxford, Idaho 10 June 1876.

Her mother who had passed on about three years before had been a survivor of the Hand Cart Company
(Martin Hand Cart Company not sure she was with the Martin company, but this is a historic reference) of 1856. Julia was the oldest of her mother’s eight children whom she was called to leave at the age of twenty-nine years.

One child had gone before her to the other side, leaving a family of five boys and two girls. The Mother had always been frail on account of helping to draw a Hand Cart across the Continent at the age of 13, and her natural faculties had caused Julia to be burdened with many of her Mother’s cares in the raising of the younger children. Although her mother was frail, she was very exacting as to her own appearance as well as that of her house and children. After the demise of her Mother, Julia allowed her energy to slacken and was not so precise in her dress and housekeeping. Tired and listless, one day she lay down upon a day bed and soon fell asleep, and when she awoke, she said that her Mother had appeared to her and as her wont was dressed very neatly as she had always appeared during lifetime. Julia took this as a gentle rebuke for the listless habits which she had fallen into. She also stated that she felt her mother’s hand upon her head as she said: “Julia, You will live three years to help take care of my children and then you will come to me where I am.”

Many of Julia’s friends tried to persuade her that it was only a dream and best to forget it, but she knew and was not turned aside from her convictions. Strange things happen: and after all the many years of my sojourn on earth I have never found a suitable reason to explain why I have become the stepmother of Julia before her Mother had been gone a year. Perhaps it was because I had been raised in a large family and that the raising of the children was the one and only object in life. She was scarcely past thirteen years of age, and I scarcely past fifteen years of age when our relationship began. We were neighborhood children and had gone to the same school, yet she had learned more of cooking and housekeeping while I could take a bag of wool – card, spin and ye it and then weave it and cut and make me a dress. So while she know some things, I knew others, and we got along with the care of the six children. We worked and we played as other children do. I was clever with a needle and loved to make clothes for the children, especially the younger girl Ellnora, who was about five years old, a very pretty but delicate child.

About one year went by quite smoothly until a mortgage long over due on the home was foreclosed, and we were compelled to go out and live in Stringtown, about two miles from the village, where neighbors lived on farms some distance apart and the main highway ran along the east side of a lofty and verdant mountain chain. Here in a one log house with a bowery over the east door the family were huddled to begin life anew.

Julia’s health was on the decline, and so was that of her little sister. The fraternal grandparents had taken the little one to their home and were caring for her and her younger brother. It was here in this room that Calvin, my own first child was born in the month of Oct, 1875. Julia was there, and with the aid of my own mother, I was soon able to assume the duties of the household. Will say here of Julia, that she was a true and honest friend.

A girl of remarkably good sense. She realized the great responsibility had fallen on me in the care of her mother’s helpless children. She had confidence in me and always treated me with respect. The winter months of 75 & 76 fell hard upon her and a consumptive cough revealed the danger she was in. Yet, she came and went with friends and bravely enjoyed the strength she had which she well knew was on the wane. Her bed and mine were on a line with each other on the same side of the room. This was for her convenience for her voice had failed, and she could only speak in a whisper which she knew always awakened me from my sleep at night. She called me “Smantee” as that was a nickname from my school days, and which I preferred the children to call me.

To the neglect of my own baby girl, a laundry decorated the clothes line each day and Julia was kept neat and clean. Just after midnight on the morning of 10 May, she awoke and called “Smantee”, who in turn called her father who lit a candle and went to her bed. She had been stricken with a pain in her heart and needed attention. We arranged warm applications and with simple remedies, she found relief, but not consent to our remaining up with her or even to leave the candle burning. So according to her directions we lay down again.

When I went to her in the morning, I noticed a great change in her countenance and she said: “Smantee,” I am going to die today. I tried to dissuade her, but her features revealed that she spoke the truth. I asked what it was that we could do to please her, then she began giving orders for the coming event. First, she wanted us to send for her Grandmother to come and help give her a bath, including the washing of her braided hair which was to be put on curlers after her demise. Her Grandmother came and her order as to the bath was filled.  Of course, in that neighborhood the news went from house to house of what was going on. Her many friends were allowed admittance only so far as to take a short look at her from the door. After her bath, she had desire to sit in the rocker for a while. It seemed I see her sitting there, composed with her eyes filled with a bright luster as they had never been before, her only answer to the salute of her friends was the peaceful smile which lit her face. When the noonday had passed she said: “I want to go to bed now and want my Grandfather and Brother Hepworth to come and administer to me.” She was put to bed and a conveyance went to bring the desired visitors. They came and she was anointed by Joseph Hepworth and the anointment confirmed by her grandfather Patriarch John Boice. He simply dedicated her to the Lord, and told her she should not taste of death but be gathered to her mother’s people in Peace. After leaving her with this blessing, they went away and Julia said: “Lay me down now, I want to go to sleep.”

She went to sleep while I, with three others, sat outside under the Bowery. But I felt uneasy and with my babe in my arms, I stole softly into the room time and time again. Finally, at about four in the afternoon, she looked up at me and said, “Smantee, I am dying now.” I hailed her Father and two lady friends who were sitting outside. They went to her, she said, “Raise me up.” She was sitting against the prop of pillows. She seemed to speak in a louder whisper than before and left kind regards to all her friends and appreciation of all they had done for her. She spoke of her five little brothers and told them to be good. She requested that her Temple work be done and that she should be sealed to a worthy young man whom she loved. Finally, she looked at me and said, “Smantee, I will tell Mother that you have been good to me, to which I replied, “Alright Julia.” Then her peaceful head lay back on the pillow, and she went fast asleep to awaken no more in this world where we had, had a rich experience in many arts that few of her tender age will ever know. One month later little Elnora died.

Written by Samantha T. Foley

(Samantha was the 2nd wife of Benjamin Boice and after his death she married Andrew Foley in 1899 – she died in 1948

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Some biographic details about Samantha:

Samantha Tryphena Brimhall Foley was born in Ogden, Utah, on 22 March 1858. She was a member of the "community of saints" who settled the San Luis Valley of Southern Colorado, and spent ten years in the villages of Los Cerritos and Manassa. In the Spring of 1888 or 1889, Samantha and her family left Colorado and, traveling in two horse-drawn wagons, followed the Rio Grande to Albuquerque, New Mexico. They arrived in Albuquerque at the time of a diptheria epidemic, and two of her five children died of the disease within a few days of one another. Griefstricken, Samantha prayed, and heard a "sweet small voice," which directed her to study Spanish. She began her study of Spanish while riding on the wagon seat, as she and her family continued on their journey to Mexico. Her knowledge of the language provided purpose and meaning to her life, the remainder of which was spent working with Mexican converts. She helped found the colony of Dublan in the Mexican province of Chihuahua, where she was widowed within the first year. Samantha lived in the colony of Juarez, in Casa Grandes, and in "the city of Mexico" for the next several years, teaching school and acting as an interpreter. She married Andrew L. Foley on 5 January 1899. Their son, Andrew B. Foley, was born two years later. The Foleys returned to Salt Lake City in 1904, where Samantha studied nursing at LDS University. She was certified by the Utah State Medical Board in 1905. As her health was too poor for the practice of nursing, she taught Spanish and worked as a translator. After the death of Andrew L. Foley, Samantha settled in Southern California with her son. While in Southern California, she served as Director of Theology for the Relief Society, did genealogical work, and was active in the movement to include Spanish- taught classes in the local Sunday schools. She died on 5 November 1948, in Rosemead, California.

also written by Samantha:

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Source: http://www.beadmobile.com/family_story_julia_boice.html