John Jenkins (1845-1936) – Biography
John Jenkins was born in Cowbridge,
Glamorganshire, South Wales
on the 8th day of May 1845. This history was given by John Jenkins, himself.
He was the son of Evan Jenkins and Ann Davies.
The Mormon Elders brought the gospel to our home in
about the year of 1847. My father believed and accepted it at once. I was about
a year and a half old at this time. He used to go out on the streets and preach
this strange doctrine called Mormonism, and he would often take me in his arms
so the people would not throw rotten eggs at him. It was such a new thing to
the world that the people thought he was crazy.
When I was nearly five years old my parents left our
native land for the gospel's sake. We left Liverpool, England,
March 2, 1850 on the good ship Hartley. It took us two months to make the trip,
arriving in New Orleans
May 2, 1850. We then sailed up the Mississippi
and Missouri Rivers, landing just below Winter
Quarters. From there we journeyed four miles east to Council Bluffs, then five miles farther east
to Mosquito Creek where we lived for eleven years. When we arrived there our
earthly belongings consisted of a few dishes and two featherbeds, one of which
we soon traded for a cow, the first cow we had ever owned.
Having no means with which to proceed to Utah, Apostle Ezra T. Benson advised my father to stay in
Iowa until
such time as he could get equipment to take us on our journey. During this time
my mother gave birth to two pairs of twins; the first pair was born May 15,
1851 and the second pair were born May 16, 1858. When
the first pair were born the family was driven from
our home by a flood and had to live in a dirt-roof house that leaked so badly
that an umbrella had to be placed over the bed to shelter Mother who lay
confined with the babies.
As soon as possible my father took out his
naturalization papers. He then homesteaded a quarter section of land on which
we lived for eleven years. While we lived there our neighbors were Mormon
apostates and Josephites who were very bitter against
the LDS Church, with the exception of one family
named Fisher. These people succeeded in influencing Mrs. Fisher and my mother
to the extent that they refused to move on to Utah. When means were provided by which we
could have moved to Utah.
Mother refused to sign the deeds so Father could sell his land. About 1859 or
1860 Brother Fisher took some wheat for a grist to the
mill one day. Leaving it there he stated that he would call back for it. When
he went back for the flour he continued on to Utah, leaving his family behind him. When
Mother learned of the Fisher episode she changed her mind in regards to the
signing of the deed and Father sold his land for $500.00. He equipped an outfit
and we started for Utah
the 1st of June, 1861, in Homer Duncan's company.
Our train was an independent outfit, that is, it
consisted of people who fitted up their own outfits. Father had two wagons, two
yokes of oxen, eight cows, and two or three horses. Father drove one wagon and
I drove one. The family was in the wagon Father drove. I drove one yoke of oxen
and one yoke of cows. We worked the cows as well as oxen. When we started in
the morning the milk would be put in the churn and by noon when we stopped it
would be churned to butter. The Indians caused us no trouble on our journey,
although they often came and begged us for flour and sugar. One of our sports
was to stand a dime in the split end of a stick, place the stick on end at
about 25 paces, and then let the Indians shoot the dime from the stick with their
bow and arrow. The dime belonged to the Indian that could hit it. It was
remarkable how often they hit the target.
In the company I was known as the Little Hunter, and with an old
muzzle loading rifle, I obtained more meat than our family could use. So we
often had some to give to other families. At one time between the Platte and
the Sweet Water Rivers
I wounded an antelope. After tracking it I got another shot and killed it. I
then dressed it and started for the train of wagons which was traveling. I soon
realized that I was lost. I wandered around until nearly sundown. On reaching
the top of a knoll I thought I saw what might be the road. So I hurried in that
direction. Soon I saw a man and started running towards him. On seeing me he
ran from me, thinking I was an Indian. My motions in trying to stop him, he
thought were signals to other Indians to close in on him. However, I finally
overtook him and found him to be a member of our company. When I told him about
the antelope, nothing would stop him from going back for it. We soon found the
game and split the cord in one front leg, slipped the opposite hind leg through
the split, and put his head between the legs so that the antelope hung on the
man's back. I carried the guns and together we made our way back to the wagon
train, arriving at camp late in the night. I have often been out alone in the
hills but have never again had the feeling of being lost. At this time I was a
boy of sixteen.
I remember among other members of the company,
President Charles W. Penrose, Francis W. Armstrong, and Samuel Russell.
President Penrose often took part in the programs held around the campfire. We
had many good times during our journey. We arrived in Salt
Lake City on September 28, 1861, and from there we went to Farmington, where Father
bought forty acres of rough land for $900.00.
The following year the Morrisite
trouble occurred. When the militia was called out to quell the trouble, I was
standing on the courthouse steps. Bishop John Hess came out and stated he was
three men short of his quota. I spoke up and said I would go if he needed me.
He sent me home for my gun and I joined the company. The first night out I
slept on the ground without shelter. It rained all night and from exposure I
contracted rheumatism, from which I have never since been entirely free. The
next day we went on to the Weber and found the Morrisites
encampment, which was called the Morrisite Fort,
located at a point just below where Unitah now is. It
seemed that Morris had prophesied that we (the enemies) would be unable to
approach nearer than a certain point because the Lord would smite us should we
try to go down the hill to their fort. The prophecy however failed and we took
our positions facing the fort. Nick Smith was sent to the fort under a white
flag with a demand of surrender, which the Morrisites
refused to do, so the battle started. It lasted three days in which Morris and
Banks, the leaders of the Morrisite camp, were killed
and the rest of their company of about 400 Morrisites
surrendered.
A very interesting incident is connected with this
battle. We had three cannons, of which the historical "Old Sow" was
one and two smaller ones, known as the iron and brass cannons. The Old Sow had
been owned by the Nauvoo Legion. At one time the enemy was trying to capture it
from the Saints. In order to hold it, the Saints buried it in the ground at Nauvoo, Illinois.
An old Sow and her little brood of young ones happened along and noticed the
fresh turf. Nature like, they started rooting in the loose
soil and uncovered the cannon. From that time on the cannon has been
known as the "Old Sow". The saints then hid the cannon in the Missouri River. It was brought to Utah in 1847 and had been used by the Saints
in several of their celebrations.
In 1863 I was called by the Church to go the Missouri River for emigrants, I responded and drove a
team of four yoke of oxen along with a company of sixty to eighty teams. Thomas
Ricks was captain of the company. It took us five
months to make the round trip, leaving in May and returning in September. At
this time I was eighteen years of age. In 1864 I made another trip with Captain
Israel Canfield of Ogden. We had a pretty good year except some trouble with
the Indians. They stole some of our horses which were used only for riding.
Each of our wagons were pulled by four yoke of oxen.
In 1865 the Indians were so hostile that the Church
sent no teams back for emigrants. But in 1866 I went again, this time with
Captain Norton Haight of Farmington. The South
Platte River, at Julesburg where we crossed, was three-fourths of
a mile wide and we ferried our stuff over by taking the best wagon boxes and
lashing four of them together. Thus they served as a ferry boat, to carry our
wagons and goods across the stream. This took about eight days getting the
train of about ninety wagons across the stream. Our train was extra large,
having some boys from Dixie who belonged to
another train. After we got our wagons and goods over, the captain called for
volunteers to swim the cattle across, which consisted of about eight hundred
head. Eight men volunteered, I being one of them. After about four hours of
hard labor by the entire company we got the cattle started through the water
and we eight volunteers followed them, swimming behind them to keep them going.
To do this we would take hold of the tails of the cattle that were behind and
swim with them. When the ones we had hold of would swim into the bunch we would
let go and grab a fresh hold on another animal as it was unsafe for us to go
into the bunch of swimming animals. Had we done so, we were in danger of
drowning. We were in the water about six hours before we got them across. At
the time there were about 500 teams of Gentiles who were going West, but did not dare to attempt to cross the river.
We continued our journey on to a little village and
landing place on the Missouri River, called Wyoming,
which was about 50 miles down the river from the present city of Omaha and about six miles above Nebraska City.
We were held at this place two or three weeks, waiting for European emigrants
and resting our animals. While here I helped some of the farmers harvest their
crops. There were not enough emigrants to complete the loads, so some wagons
were loaded with telegraph wire; the first telegraph wire to go to Utah. When we were ready
to leave, some apostates placed an attachment on the wire claiming that
President Young was indebted to them. A lawsuit followed, and we found it was a
mere scheme to hold us back until there would be so much snow that it would be
impossible for us to get through the mountains. The court released us and we
were soon on our journey.
When arriving at Fort
Kearney our train was held up for some
time by the United States
soldiers. They said it was not safe to proceed because of the Indians who were
so hostile, but we were finally allowed to go on our way by traveling with two trains together, making about 150 teamsters--all armed.
When we got about 25 miles west of Fort Kearney
we came to a trading post called Plum Creek. I was driving the lead wagon, as I
usually did, and I came upon a man lying stretched across the road. I soon
discovered he was dead. He had a double barrel shotgun across his chest and two
buckets of alcohol by his side. He had been killed by the Indians. I drove
around him and the entire train followed me. We camped nearby for the night and
some men were detailed to bury the man. The next morning after driving about 5
miles we found eleven men who had just been killed by the Indians. Their twelve
wagons had been burned and a woman and two children were carried away.
Proceeding Westward, we came to the banks of the Platte River
where we camped near a little knoll. During the night we could see the Indians
on the knoll and hear them splashing in the river as they were fording across.
Sleep came to no one in the camp that night. The next morning the Indians were
all gone. But we could see them across the river all traveling eastward. Since
we were going westward, that was the last we saw of the Indians on our trip.
The distance from Winter Quarters to Salt Lake City was about 1050 miles. Upon one
occasion my company made this journey, one way, in eight weeks. Ordinarily it
took us about 5 months to make the round trip.
On December the 28, 1864 1 was married to Mary Oviatt of Farmington,
Utah. In the winter of 1868 I
camped in Weber Canyon working for the railroad to
obtain money enough to buy a yoke of oxen. In May 1869 James Wilcox and I left for
Cache Valley to look for a home. After looking
over the place where Newton
is now located, I decided that it was good enough for me. I went to Clarkston
for a few days to visit, then returned to Farmington for my wife
and belongings. We came back to Clarkston by ox team and lived in my wagon box
while I got logs from the canyon with which to build a house in Newton. When the house
was completed, it consisted of the rough log walls, dirt roof, and mother earth
for a floor. I came to Newton
in September 1869 and it has been my permanent residence ever since. I was one
of the first settlers of this place and have been identified in all the moves
and enterprises made for its advancement and progress.
At one time I was making a trip to Salt Lake City by ox team with a load of
grain, taking it to Heber C. Kimball's mill to sell. When I returned home my
wife's mother, Mrs. Oviatt from Farmington, came back with me to visit with
her daughter. As we neared home, on the mountains west of Newton, one of my oxen gave out. I was
compelled to leave Mrs. Oviatt and my outfit on the
mountain and walk to Newton
through the snow for a fresh team to finish my journey. After I had arrived
home with Mrs. Oviatt and my load, I played the
fiddle for a dance that night.
I accepted the doctrine of plural marriage, and was
married September 21 1873 to Annie Clarke in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City. I made
the trip by ox team from Newton,
Utah with Annie and her mother.
The following winter was very hard, the snow being three feet deep on the
level. Feed became so scarce that before spring I fed all the hay that I could
get and all I the straw off the old sheds and still there was no spring in
sight. In order to try and save the stock, I broke a trail through the deep
snow to the south slope of the little mountain, about 1 ½ or 2 miles away. Here
the snow had blown off and some dry grass could be found. I finally got my
cattle and sheep through to the mountain and built a wind break by digging into
the side of the mountain and covering it over with brush and there I stayed
night and day trying to save my stock until spring. I finally saved some of
them, but my losses were heavy.
In the spring of 1882 I was laid up with rheumatism
for about six weeks, which I contracted due to exposure during the Morrisite War. The following autumn I was called on a
mission to South Wales. Before leaving Salt Lake City I was
married to my third wife, Maria Jensen on October 12, 1882. From Salt Lake City I left on my mission and my wife Maria
returned to Newton.
After serving about one year in the mission field I was released on account of
poor health, returning home in the fall of 1883.
In May 1884 I took a squatter's right in the Big
Meadows in the hills of Idaho
north of Clarkston. Here I ran a dairy ranch, shipping butter and cheese,
besides pasturing horses and cattle for other people. I owned this ranch for
thirteen years, before I was finally run out by herds of sheep trailing through
and eating all the feed.
In the years of 1885 and 1886 I was running cattle in
the Big Meadows and looking after the family in Newton--also
dodging the U.S.
Marshals who were ever on my trail for practicing polygamy. I was finally
caught and sentenced to six months in the penitentiary November 19, 1887. I was
also fined $380.00 court costs. But I was released on good behavior in five
months.
In May of 1888 I went to Star
Valley by way of Stump Creek, coming
in by Auburn to
look over the country for a cattle ranch, but returned without buying. Going
out by way of Crow Creek I killed a deer a little above where the Cousin's
Ranch was located. I gave half of it to some Church cattle herders from Bear Lake
and then proceeded on my homeward journey, going through Montpelier,
Bear Lake
and Logan Canyon. I remained home the rest of the
year looking after the farm and stock.
In May 1889 Maria and I took 113 head of cattle to Teton Basin.
When we got to the South Fork of Snake River, it being high, we had to ferry
the wagons and swim the animals. After reaching the basin I took a squatter's
right on a piece of land. We lived in my wagon box until I built a house. The
house was made of logs hewn on both sides and plastered between, with a dirt
roof and the ground for a floor. We used the skins of the elk I had killed for
a carpet, laying them with the hair side up and pinning them to the ground. I
also fenced part of the land. In the fall I had to drive the cattle out to Newton to feed for the
winter. Maria stayed in St. Anthony with my brother, Henry, during the winter
and came to Newton
in the spring with Naum Curtis. In the spring of 1890
when my son John F. went back to the Basin he found that a survey had been made
and my house was on another man's land (Owen Curtis). My claim was jumped, so I
lost all of my previous year's labor.
In the summer of 1890 the Oregon Shortline
R.R. was constructing a road from Ogden to Pocatello and points
north. I killed over a hundred head of cattle and many sheep and pigs and
furnished the railroad employees. The big Bothwell Canal
in Bear River Canyon was also under construction and I
furnished these employees with meat from my herds.
The seasons of 1891 to 1893 was spent on the farm in Newton and at my ranch in
the Clarkston hills looking after stock for myself and the town folks. In 1894
I spent from May to November in the Mink Creek mountains where I cut 40,000
feet of logs and put the in the mill. Most of this I lost as the lumber was
stolen while I was not able to look after it.
During 1895 I worked on the farm at home and the ranch
in the Big Meadows and hauled some timber from the Mink Creek mill. The Big
Meadows mentioned above are about 10 miles northwest of Clarkston, Utah.
In May 1891 I took my wife Annie and went back to Star Valley
and bought a squatter's right and improvements. I then filed a homestead claim
on it and settled on the same in the lower valley near where Freedom, Wyoming is now located.
We then came back to Newton.
Again in July of that same year I took Maria and went back to Star Valley
with 200 head of cattle. I bought hay and hired a man to feed them through the
coming winter. I have been running cattle at this same place from that time up
to the period of this writing.
One day in the spring of 1894 when the marshals were
after me, I went to West and found they had been there looking for me. Not
finding me there, they had gone on to the ranch in the Big Meadows where Maria
then lived. On learning this I started to look for them. When I got to Rick's
ranch I got one of Rick's boys to go to my ranch with me. When we got to the
ridge south of the house, I stayed there while the boy went to the house to took for Maria and the marshals; but he found no one. On
learning of this I did not know what to do, so I decided to go to my bed which
I had on a little mahogany ridge northwest of the house. This was a hiding
place from the marshals. There I found Maria and the two children. The children
were in bed and she was watching over them. I went out in the brush and located
two horses and placing her on one I got on the other, and with the children we
started for Michael Clarke's. We arrived there about daylight and from there I
took her to Weston and I started for the Mink Creek mountains.
Here I stayed in hiding for the summer.
One day my son, John F., went with me to the saw mill
in Emigration Canyon
on the Bear Lake road. Leaving him there I went and
located my summer's camping ground. Then I showed him the location and told him
he could find me there if he should want me. I had to make two trips with my
horse to pack my supplies to camp. There being no water near my camp, I got my
supply for me and my horse from a snow drift which lasted until sometime in
August. While at this camp until August I cut about 40,000 feet of saw logs.
Then in August I moved down to the sawmill. There I
got a team and wagon and started hauling logs to the mill.
One day while loading logs, the top log rolled on my
hand pinning it between the log and the bottom one and it held me fast. Oliver,
my ten-year-old son was with me and I sent him for the ax and with my free hand
chopped the other one loose. I finally got all my logs to the mill yard and had
them sawed. But I lost nearly all the lumber, depriving me of another summer's
work.
While I was at my summer camp in Mink Creek mountains, Annie, my second wife, was arrested by the
marshals and taken to Ogden.
Her father went with her, but she was released on account of it being an Idaho offense and Utah
had no jurisdiction over it. The case was dismissed. She had given birth to a
little child and that was the cause of the arrest. She named him Archie. In
July 1896 I moved Maria to Star Valley where she lived for a number of years, later
moving her again to Newton
where she spent the remainder of her life.
During the year of 1897 I was kept busy looking after
my three places located at Star Valley, the Big Meadows, and in Newton, Utah.
I also owned forty acres of land in Idaho
near Weston. Hay was my main crop. I also raised some wheat and oats in Newton. The season was
earlier in Newton than the other places so I
would start to hay there first, then go to Weston and from there to Star Valley.
I put up 200 tons of hay in Newton, 50 tons in
Weston, and several tons in Star
Valley. I would drive
cattle to Star Valley
in the spring and then back to Newton
in the fall to winter over. I kept this up for several years. I bought cattle
with what money I could spare, and often with some borrowed money I would buy
calves and yearlings to keep the range stocked. In doing this I always had a
herd to drive out in the spring and feed on the Star Valley
range. In the fall I would select what I wanted to sell and a few to milk
during the winter and drive them to Newton
to feed. I continued this process for several years. Sometimes it would be late
in the fall and the snow was deep and the weather extremely cold, which made it
very unpleasant as well as very uncomfortable to do the driving.
In 1899 I was chosen first counselor to Bishop William
H. Griffin, being ordained a high priest and set apart on February 28, 1899 by
Apostle George Teasdale. In that capacity I labored for about 4 years.
In 1901 while working on the L.D.S.
church in Freedom, I fell from the square of the building about 14 feet and
struck on the floor joist, breaking three ribs close to my spine. This injury
has caused me a lot of suffering ever since when lying down and in certain
positions while working. Since that time I have not been able to lay on my left side. Soon after this accident I was kicked
by a stallion which also broke a rib and caused severe suffering. Later in life
I fell from a header box and broke my left leg below the knee, while unloading
some roots of apple trees, which caught my clothing and pulled me out.
In 1902 my son, Philip, and I drove about 200 head of
cattle to Star Valley, going through the Mink Creek mountains in May. The snow was three to four feet deep so it
made it impossible to get a wagon through. I sent Oliver, another son, back
with the wagon and around by Soda Springs. With great difficulty Philip and I
worked the cattle through the deep snow covered mountains. But in doing this,
through over exertion and exposure, I contracted a cold which developed into
spotted fever. By the time we got to Fairview, Wyoming three days later I was
so sick I had to leave the cattle and go on to Afton. Here I had a rest and
refreshments at Bishop Lows' and then traveled on 25 miles to Freedom. Arriving
at this place I went to bed and stayed for several weeks. Much of the time I
knew nothing. I became so bad that my life was despaired of. My wife, Mary and
daughter, Ruth, came from Newton
to be with me. Through the help of the Lord and their attention, I got over the
fever, but was almost helpless for some time. It did me some good, however, for
from that time I was cured from a stomach trouble (indigestion) from which I
had suffered for the past sixteen years.
In February 1926 I had a wrestle with a bull and got
the worst of it. He broke four ribs and bruised me quite badly, which caused
severe pain and suffering for several weeks. In September of the same year,
while I was driving some cattle over near Malad on
the highway, my horse became tangled in some loose wire left there by the
county workmen. She began jumping and pitching and became so tangled in the
wire that it threw me down. In the fall I struck my head, cutting a large gash
in it, and it knocked me unconscious for some time. When I found the horse she
was standing down the road about 40 rods with one hind leg sawed completely
off, bone and all. So I had to shoot her.
On the fourth of February 1927 I fell from the loft of
the barn about 10 feet and hit on some ice and frozen ground, bruising some of
my old bumps and my right hip. I thought my hip was broken and for about 15
days I had to lay on my stomach whenever I laid down, and kneel on my knees
when I was up.
I served as president of the Y.M.M.I.A.
[Young Men's Mutual Improvement Association] at one time, also as Supt. of the
Sunday School. At one time I was road supervisor and
several times I have served as home missionary.
On the 24th of July in 1924 I was called to drive a
covered wagon and my yoke of oxen in the big Centennial parade held at Logan, Utah.
On several occasions since that time I have driven my oxen in the parades given
in honor of Pioneer Day and different celebrations. In 1929 1 drove my team in
the celebration commemorating the opening of the Ogden
aerial field at Ogden, Utah. After driving my ox team on the
streets of Ogden
in the parade, I was taken to the aerial port about 2 miles South of Ogden City
in an automobile. There I was transferred to an airplane and was soon riding
through the air at the age of 84.
I am still enjoying life and have good health with the
exception of minor troubles resulting from the former accidents mentioned in
the foregoing history.
