Daniel
Leigh Walters
Daniel Leigh
Walters died 27 July 1917 on the train en route from Weiser,
Idaho to Wellsville, Utah, and is buried in the Wellsville City cemetery. The
following autobiography was written in 1914.
I was born in Laonelly [Llanelli], South Wales, February 15, 1843. My father’s
family [included] Walter Walters - father, Sarah Leigh Walters - mother, and
the following children, Mary, Ann, Sarah, William, Margaret, Hannah, Daniel and
Elizabeth.
All except William set sail from England, February 4, 1854
and landed at New Orleans about six weeks later March 18, 1854. We traveled by
steamboat to St. Louis, Missouri. A short time later we went to Illinois, and
stayed there two or three weeks with my sister. Leaving here we journeyed to
Kansas, where we lived for a short time. Finally we moved out upon the prarie to await the coming of the teams to take us across
the plains. The trip was quite uneventful to me as I was only 10 years old at
the time. We arrived at Salt Lake City, October 5th, 1854. My uncle Alexander Wright, met us and took us to his home, a place later known
as Wandemere.
After a short stay the family, except me, moved to Brigham
City, Utah. I lived with my uncle, Alexander, all winter. In the spring of
1855, my mother came for me and took me home. My mother was a strong woman and
we walked 65 miles to Brigham City. It took us four days to make the trip. My
first job on arriving home was to drive two yoke of oxen, breaking new land for
spring planting. The crops looked well until August when the grasshoppers came
and took all of them.
The years of 1855 and 56 were the hardest in the history
of the country, since it was settled by white people. How we lived through it
would be hard to tell. Our main food was bran bread. We ate anything we could
get. The cattle were so poor and starved that they would freeze while standing.
We had no team so we had to carry on our backs all the wood we burned that
winter. The house we lived in, my father built with willows and plastered with
mud. For a door we used a quilt and for windows some thin white cloth. I was
only eleven years old at the time and as my brother, William, had stayed in the
old country all the hard work fell on the shoulders of the girls. Along toward Spring, when the hills began to get bare we would sharpen
sticks and go out to dig segoes for breakfast and
dinner. Then go to bed hungry. Henry Thomas had married my sister, Margaret, in
the autumn of 1855. They owned a cow, and it was our task every day to go to
the hills and cut dry grass and carry it home, to keep
her from starving. Nearly all the stock died before spring came. Those that did
not die were so thin and weak that no work could be done until the grass grew
and the cattle had time to gain strength. Planting was late that year.
During the winter of 1855, Henry Thomas and I pulled a
bushel of wheat on a hand sled from Brigham City to Willard. We were able to
get it chopped at a mill owned by Mallarry [Mallory].
We reached home late that night and had a great feast. Sometime later father
drove a team of oxen and took wheat to the mill that we might have bread to
eat. Remember, it was bran bread and that is pretty rough to use all the time.
During the journey we had nothing to eat. On the way home we became very hungry.
About one mile north of Willard we came to a home owned by Bankheads. My father said, “I have never begged in
my life, but I can stand it no longer.” He went to the door and asked the lady
for a piece of bread. Mrs. Bankhead gave him a big
loaf. Neither sister Bankhead
nor myself have forgotten the incident. We have talked about it many times
since we have lived neighbors in Wellsville, Utah, for nearly fifty years. I
have told her many times that she is always welcome in our home, and I am glad
she makes herself so.
We managed somehow to live through those hard times. Many
times we had nothing to eat except roots. In the spring of 1856 my father went
to work for Lorenzo Snow, in his garden. Father was an excellent gardener and
made a beautiful place for him. We were able to get along quite well as Mr.
Snow would share with us what little he had. I lived with the Snows all that
summer and tended cows and sheep. It was necessary for every family to have
some sheep as clothing had to be made at home and mostly by hand. Everyone
raised good crops during the summer of 1856-57 and we had more to live on.
During the summer of 1857, word came that an army was
coming to kill us off. The people were very much excited and got out all their
old guns and cleaned them up. They said, “If we must use them, we will give
them the best we have.” I was too young to stand guard in Echo canyon , but most of my companions went and stayed all
winter.
When spring came, word was received that we must move
south. Just where we did not know. Most of the people
were very hard pressed for means to move with. However, a few had no trouble.
It was pretty hard to pick up and leave home to go (nobody knows where). But we
did go and leave nearly everything behind. I went to Salt Lake City to my uncle Alexander’s home (How I got there I cannot tell). When
I reached there he was getting ready to move South
too. We loaded two wagons with household goods, flour and such things we needed
and pulled away. My Uncle drove the horse team and I drove the yoke of oxen.
After two days of hard driving we reached Spanish Fork. We stayed with a lady
named White, who had crossed the plains with us four years before. We remained
here and rested two days. On the third day we started back to get another load.
We made two trips. When we got back for the second load my father, mother and
younger sister, Elizabeth had arrived at my uncle’s. How they got there I never
found out. But everyone was helping everyone else. So we were helped along. At
this time John Owen came with twenty-five teams from Iron County to help move
the people South. The journey was about three hundred
miles and took two weeks. John Owen had married my oldest sister, Mary, the
year before we moved.
At Cedar City during the summer of 1858 Mr. Owen and I
hauled coal for the iron works. Iron making at this time soon failed. In the
spring of 1859 a number of people became dissatisfied, sold out their
belongings and moved back to Salt Lake City. Cache Valley was being talked
about very much at this time. John Owen bought ten acres of Cache Valley land
from William Hamlin, who remained in the south.
We came to Cache Valley about April 10, 1859 and lived in
tents until houses could be built for the winter. We planted wheat on the land
and harvested a very fine crop. In the fall and winter of 1859, sixty houses
were built of logs and covered with straw and dirt as there was no saw mill to
make lumber for roofing.
During this summer the first hostile Indians came upon us,
and everyone thought we would be finished. There was about fifty of them to our
twenty-five or thirty. They were well armed, and we had very little and poor at
that. The Indians were painted and dressed ready for war, dancing about and
trying to frighten us. It would have been foolish to fight with them, so we met
with them to see what they wanted. Peter Maughan had
charge of the colony at this time. The Indians asked for beef, flour, sugar and
tea. No one had tea or sugar, but everyone divided what they had, and brother Maughan sent men out for a beef. This satisfied them, and
they went away. We found out that this was the best way to fight Indians.
Cache Valley was bleak, cold and so foggy that the sun was
not seen at times for a month. The wheat we raised had to be hauled to Brigham
City for grinding, as no mill had been started here. The hardships of settling
a new country are very severe. For two or three years we had a hard time to
make a living. If wheat was to be sold, it must be taken to Salt Lake City, and
for our trouble we received 50 cents per bushel. Sugar was 75 cents a pound,
calico - 50 cents per yard, iron cut nails - 75 cents per pound and a spade or
shovel - $5 each.
The fort had to be guarded at night, and the cattle and
horses herded in the daytime to keep the Indians from stealing them. Even with
this care many horses were lost. In 1859 every horse on the range was taken.
The oxen and cattle were the most important at this time, as we depended upon
them to do the farm work and supply us with food. In January 1863, Colonel
Conner gave the Indians a good whipping so we lived in peace after that.
The following incident is a true account of one of my own
experiences:
“Evan Owen and myself
had a very dangerous chase to recover some horses stolen by the Indians. It was
a custom to turn the horses out during the day and bring them in for the night.
I went to bring them home and found only my own horse. I inquired to John Bankhead as to where I might find them. He said he had seen
them just ten minutes before. When I reached the place they were gone. I
traveled down the road [and] signaled to Evan. He came as fast as he could.
Taking our pistols in hand we rode very fast but did not encounter any Indians.
If we had, I guess both of us would have been killed. After a twelve-mile chase
the horses were abandoned by the Indians. We turned them toward home, only to
discover that darkness was coming on. As it was dangerous to travel at night we
sat up and guarded them until morning. The horse Evan used died during the
night. It belonged to his brother John, and Evan had to pay him $300 for it. We
traveled a short time when we met a man and boy going to their home in
Franklin. This gave us company, for which we were very glad. The folks at home
thought surely we had been killed and sent a group of ten minute men to look
for us. They met us at Dry Lake and took us safely home. When we were near
enough we could see people standing on the housetops to find out if we were
alive or dead, but we were very much alive. Our people [were] very happy to see
us again.
I have thought of this experience many times
in my life and can say that it was more good luck than good management that we
returned alive. We were both young and had little thought of the dangers in the
wild country and among hostile Indians. Two weeks after I was called to guard
teams going to Brigham City. On this trip my valuable horse was crippled. Both
these fine animals died in the service of our country -- signed: D. L.
Walters.”
In the autumn of 1861 we had so much rain that it was
almost impossible to harvest the crops. By the middle of January 1862 the grain
at Paradise had not been threshed. As I worked on a threshing machine, it was
necessary for me to help them. While doing so I contracted a very bad cold and
was sent home. I was ill and in bed for two months. It was during this time
that I began my work on the violin. I had bought one and my father would sing
and whistle tunes until I learned to play them. This gave me much interest and
amusement while in bed. However, this was not the beginning of my interest in
music. On the boat crossing the ocean I met a man who played the flute and was
always close to him when he played. He saw that I was fond of music and made me
a present of a flute, telling me to practice and learn to play. This I did even
though I was but ten years kicking up so much noise that later the girls threw
it into the river, ending my music for a while.
About this time at Brigham City a man named William Lewis
was teaching young people to sing. I joined and spent two nights a week at
classes where a very fine children’s chorus was organized and a good one for
those days. Mr. Lewis was very strict, and I had my first vocal training.
By the spring of 1862 I was well again and went to Salt
Lake City to drive a ward team to haul rock from Little Cottonwood Canyon to
help build the temple. A trip of twenty miles made in two days. I boarded with
a very fine family near the bridge on Big Cottonwood. When I had hauled the
allotment I hired to Mr. Wm. W. [Nixon?] to haul grain from Logan to Salt Lake
City. I made two trips then came home.
I had not done much with the violin during this time, but
during this winter of 1863 I set to work in earnest. I knew the job was a very
hard one, and very few people learn to play one well without good teachers. As
there was no one here who could help me I did the best I could, playing by ear
as we say. Much progress was made during the next year. Still no one came who
could help me. I would know more than any of them or I would think I did. I
kept on doing the best I could alone (I think all one needs to succeed, is a
will to do and never say fail). Soon I
ran against a wall. I must learn to read music but there were no books I could
get to help me. Finally a family named John came to Wellsville. One of the boys
had taken lessons on the violin, in England, and had a book of instructions. He
would not sell it but loaned it to me. I learned the scales and a few simple
tunes.
Shortly a Mr. James Shore came to town. He could play the
violin so we played together during the Winter. James
Shore, Edwin Mitton and Henry Haslam
played together. Shore (violin), Mitton
(concertina) and Haslam (cornet). The music
those boys played was beautiful to hear. I could not play well enough to join
them but played sometimes while Mr. Shore danced. After a while Shore moved
away, and I took his place. We played together many years.
The group was engaged to play at Logan for Brigham Young
and party. They went to Brigham City the next night and took us with them to
play for a dance. In the afternoon we were asked to get into a spring wagon and
serenade the town. During the dance Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball asked us
to play some of the music played at Logan the day before. We did all we could,
and it was much appreciated by everyone. The people treated us very kindly.
Brigham Young said I would be one of the finest violin players in the country.
After playing with the boys for many years I got together
four instruments, first violin, second violin, cornet and cello. This was
called the first string band north of Salt Lake City. We traveled all over Utah
and had much pleasure in our work. I can play the violin very well now, in my
72 year.
In the year 1864 I began to think of my future and the
making of a home and raising a family. So on the 26th day of December, Martha Stenit [Stennett] Poppleton and I were married in the Salt Lake Temple. In the spring of 1865 I cut the first logs
to build a house. That summer I cut and hauled enough to finish it. I did all
the work myself. As there were no saw mills to cut lumber and shingles, the
roof was made of small timber, straw and dirt. A quilt served for a door and
white cloth as windows. When it rained it fell inside as well as out and continued
long after it had stopped outside. When our first child, Sarah was born we had
to hang a wagon cover over the bed to keep mother and child as dry as possible.
My occupation was farming at this time. In 1866 we had
another grasshopper war. Our crops were destroyed for two seasons. The people
did not suffer as much as in the previous hopper wars. In 1867 there were no
prospects for crops so I went to Fort Benton on the Missouri River. In 1870 I
decided to try my fortune at mining. Tintre [Tintic] mines had just
been discovered and I spent part of the summer doing some of the first work in
the district. I became owner of some property but sold it for a pittance and in
1871 went to Montana to work in the gold mines and did very well.
I was engaged by John Stoddard in the summer of 1872 to
run a saw mill at [ ? ]. On the 4th of July I had the
misfortune to lose the middle finger of my right hand. Blood poison set in, and
I almost lost my life. Many years passed by before I could use my hand freely
at any kind of work. During these years I made my living almost entirely with
my violin. As I came to use my hand freely again, I took up the carpenter trade
and was quite successful. While the Tabernacle and Logan Temple were being
built I worked about a year on them. I had charge of the timber work on the
Wellsville, Ward Tabernacle for some time.
Much time has been spent in traveling over the state of
Utah presenting musical programs and playing for dancing. I have taught music
to many and had at one time a very fine family orchestra. A brass band
organized in Wellsville was one of the best in the state at that early date.
The violin I use is one that I was fortunate enough to get
from a blind man by the name of Owen Jones who lived with us at Brigham City in
1856. I paid him $100.00 for it. He said, “No other man on earth could have
it.” Before Mr. Jones consented to sell it to me I had to promise never to sell
it. I have kept my word to this day. I value my violin very highly because it
has a tone not found in the ordinary instruments. Thomas Giles, the Welsh
harpist, named her Jennie Linn [Jenny Lind].
We have had twelve children, Sarah - Martha - Daniel - Ann
- Mary - Walter - William - Edward - Elizabeth - Thomas - Maud and Margaret.
All lived to be adults except Ann, who died at fifteen and Maud at three years.
