The letter for this statement is dated 10th November 1845, but does not have a name attached.
The author lived in Savannah, Missouri when Benjamin Carlisle asked to fix his wagon on her land. He explained to the author that he was looking for a wife: he planned to head through St. Joseph, down the Oregon Trail to Willamette Valley, where he could get land, gaining double the land if they were married. The next day, Pastor Laurence married the two and they left the next day, late in the season.
The author was very useful on the trail, saving her husband and their equipment several times. They reached the Laramie River in Fort John in October, where the trading post manager, Bruce, said that it was not wise to continue up the path.
As they were discussing what to do next, they met Eustace Wick, a short squat figure with leathery skin and a greying beard and a healthy set of teeth. He claimed to be the best guide for the Rockies, and Benjamin agreed to have him guide them through the valley.
They headed up through the narrow paths of the Rockies, as the weather became colder and colder. One freezing morning they awoke to find one of the wheels of the wagon smashed. Eustace explained that he'd found a cave they could take shelter in from the weather. They didn't take any food from the wagons, although there were already cut logs in the cave. Eustace made a fire before muttering a prayer: "Come, meat, be my guest, and let thy gifts to me be blessed." He slit Benjamin's neck as his wife fired a pistol through Eustace's head. As she wept for her husband, she heard him whisper something. Although dead, he whispered 'eat me' to her for the five days she stayed in the cave. She decided to try to leave the cave and the harsh weather outside before writing her account of the events and leaving it in Eustace's oilskins.
Post-Statement Follow-Up Edit
Jonathan Sims is unable to corroborate this statement. There is no record of Eustace, but Benjamin did exist. The prayer that Eustace muttered was a perversion of Lutheran grace; there was a Lutheran preacher called Horatio Wick in Massachusetts who fell out with colleagues over the Sacrament of the Eucharist and drowned in 1832. Jonathan wonders how the letter got to Jonah Magnus' collection.