The Journal
LOGAN, CACHE COUNTY, UTAH, SATURDAY, APRIL 5, 1924
MEMORIES OF EARLY DAYS IN CACHE COUNTY
Personal Reminiscences of Its First Settlers -- Forgotten Scenes And Incidents
Recalled By Words of Those Who Took Part In Them
(By JOEL RICKS)
We have referred to the fact that Robert D. Roberts was about the only man now
living who was a man grown at the time of the settlement of Logan, and who
passed through all of the privations and trials of those early days. What he
has to say of his experiences will be read with interest. He says, ÒI was born
September 21, 1837 in the parish of Llanfrothen Marionethshire, North Wales.
My parents were hard working people, and at the time of my birth, were living
in an old abandoned palace, which some claimed had been built in the days of
the Romans. It was occupied by several other families besides our own. The
place was called the Farm Park, and was probably the largest estate being
farmed at that time, in Wales. My parents like the rest of the families there
were tenants on this estate.
When I was nine months old my parents moved from Farm Park, and rented a small
farm in the same neighborhood, at a place called Colli, where they lived until
I was seven years old, when they again moved to the parish of Festonig, the
hamlet of Bethania. It was here that my father heard and received the gospel.
My mother received it about six months after my father. My father was baptized
May 24, 1846.
On April 19, 1856 we left Bethania for Utah. We reached Liverpool on the 11th,
and on the 19th, we took passage on the ship Sunder Curling for America. We
landed at Boston May 24th after a voyage of 35 days. Two days later we took
the train for Iowa City, Iowa. There was about 700 saints came over on the
same ship that we did, all of them from Wales. Iowa City at that time was a
small place. We remained there for about three weeks, and during that time
were compelled to live in the open air, as no shelter of any kind could be
obtained. We were very anxious to get started on our journey. Edward Bunker,
had charge of our company of about 300 souls. We had no wagons so were
organized into a hand cart company. Our equipment and supplies were very
limited. Twenty people were compelled to sleep in one tent in order to give
shelter to every one. We had six wagons drawn by oxen, which carried our tents
and provisions. Each family had one and sometimes two hand carts, in which
they carried their bedding, and rations of food. There were eight in our
family and we had two carts. About June 24th 1856, the company started on its
memorable journey across the plains.
On our first day we traveled three miles when we were overtaken by a very bad
storm. We made camp on the bank of a small creek, the wind was blowing
terribly, and we had to cling to our tents and poles to keep them from blowing
away, but in spite of our efforts some of the tents were blown down. In a
short time the rain came in torrents, accompanied by thunder and lightning.
The water rose over the banks of the creek, and flooded our camp, and was a
foot deep around some of the tents. We had few clothes except those we had on,
the rest having left behind to be sent on later. So that we had to lay over
the next day to dry our clothes. This was very trying for our first
experience. We resumed our journey the next day, with 300 miles to march
before reaching Florence. The journey was very hard on us as the hand carts
were hard to pull, and our rations were very scant. We had to make three meals
on half of a pound of flour until we got to Florence, then we were allowed a
pound a day. The first river we crossed after leaving Florence was called Loup
Fork, and after leaving it we had ten miles to go before we could get water.
The sun was burning hot and it seemed to concentrate on the trail between the
tall grass growing on either side. This grass grew from five to eight feet
tall. The suffering from heat and thirst was something terrible, and some of
the people became so exhausted that they gave up and stopped by the way. Some
of the company got through, and they returned with water to those left behind,
which revived them so that they could go on. After leaving the Wood River, we
came into the buffalo country, where we saw thousands of buffalo in great
herds. We were able to kill some of them thus adding to our provisions. While
traveling through this country we were unable to get wood to burn, and were
compelled to use buffalo chips.
We were unable to keep the fresh buffalo meat very long as we had no salt to
preserve it. We crossed the Platt river at Laramie. Some thirty miles this
side of Laramie, we woke up one morning to find six inches of snow on the
ground. We remained in camp until the sun had melted the snow a little, and
then resumed our journey, feeling very down hearted, as the road was very
muddy, which made the carts hard to pull. After crossing the upper place on
the Platt river, we went to the Sweet Water river, and camped near Independence
Rick, from there to Salt Lake was 300 miles, and I was compelled to walk the
entire distance barefooted as my boots were no good.
In the Black Hills we met Parley P. Pratt, and company going east, probably
going on missions.
From Fort Bridger to Salt Lake we were allowed less than a half a pound of
flour per day. We arrived in Salt Lake City, October 2, 1856 after a perilous
journey which I shall never forget. Many died along the way from starvation
and exposure. The trials and hardships of the journey were too much for them,
and even after we reached Salt Lake many others died as a result of their
privations. At Salt Lake the company scattered in all directions. Father and
mother and family went to Farmington. I went to Ogden with a man named Erastus
Bingham, and remained with him four months, when I went to Farmington. In the
spring of 1857 I went to Bingham and worked for a man named Captain David
Evans, for about seven months. It was during this summer that JohnsonÕs army,
came to destroy the Saints, and Captain Evans went with our people to meet the
army, and left me to take care of his place. My father also went out to defend
our people. Father came North with the company under Chauncey West to defent
the northern route. He was one of the last to return after the trouble was
over, and as a consequence we did not earn much that summer. While I was at
Brigham I used to stand guard at night, at one time word came that the soldiers
were coming from the North, and for every one to be ready to leave in the
morning. Just before daylight while we were waiting for it to get light, so we
could start, word came that it was not soldiers that were coming, but a company
of scouts under John Taylor, which had been North watching the road. My father
froze his foot during the campaign, on account of having defective boots. In
the spring of 1858 we went south as far as Clover Creek, near Nephi. Father
had to borrow enough food, from William Richards, to make the trip. We paid it
back in 1859. I received two steers as pay for my work for Captain Evans, and
these with what work we were able to get from time to time, brought us in
wheat, potatoes, etc. so we were able to live.
In the spring of 1858, father and I made shingles in the canyon. We would saw
the logs in the sixteen inch lengths, then split them as fine as possible, and
take a drawing knife and trim and smooth them. When we returned from the
canyon we found my mother and brother Thomas sick with mountain fever. Father
was compelled to remain at home to care for them, and I went out to Camp Floyd
to get work, but was unsuccessful.
When I returned home mother and Tom had not recovered, but about a week later
started to recover and were soon all right. The disease had not finished its
deadly work, my father and brother Daniel, and my sisters Ann and Jane, were
stricken. This was indeed a very trying condition and a very sad one. My
father died November 9, 1858 and we buried him in the cemetery at Farminton.
After coming home from the funeral, I was taken with the fever and went to bed
and remained there for three months, hovering between life and death.
After my recovery I started for Denver with the intentions of working in the
gold mines there, but on reaching Fort Bridger I got work farming and making
adobes. I earned a little money and returned to Farmington, and with the wheat
my brothers had earned we were able to pay most of our debts. In the fall or
latter part of October James Ellis and myself started for Cache Valley, to get
some land and make homes for ourselves and families. It took us three days to
get there as we walked the entire distance, and carried our bedding and
provisions. We came in through Wellsville canyon. It was dark when we reached
Logan river, and not knowing where the ford was we couldntÕ cross. We went up
on the bench where River Heights is now, and could hear people talk and
chopping wood over in Logan and tried to make them hear us and send some one to
pilot us to town, but couldnÕt, and had to make camp and pass the night on the
bench. It was a cold night, and when we got up our bedding and clothing were
frozen stiff.
I got work in Logan, and a little later my brother Thomas came up from
Farmington, and together we went in Green canyon and got out logs to build us a
cabin. In December John Wright and myself sawed lumber for the log school
house. We made the door frames, window frames, and sashes. We had an old whip
saw. I think this was the first lumber sawed in Logan. James Ellis and
Benjamin Williams started to saw lumber about the same time. John Blanchard
used to tell me that John Wright and I did about all of the work on the school
house, and I think likely this was so, as the saw pit was near the house and we
were working there most of the time. John Wright and James Ellis were expert
men with the whip saw, as this was their occupation in Wales before they came
to America. An Irishman named Savage, and John Reed taught school in the log
school house that first winter. (This is an error, Ed. Smith taught the first
winter, and these parties the next).
I stayed with John Wright that winter, they were very kind to me. We used a
blanket for a door to the cabin that winter, but were quite comfortable.
By February Tom and I had our cabin nearly up, and we returned to Farmington
for mother and the children. We found them alright, and in the latter part of
March, we started on our return to Logan. The roads were very bad. We had to
come over the divide as the snow was too deep in the canyon for us to get
through. We were two weeks making the trip. The cattle were about worn out
when we reached Logan. Soon after our return we put a roof on our cabin and
were truly thankful to have a shelter over us. We had taken up some land and
we set to work to fence it and get our crops in, and the irrigation ditches
dug. That spring we plowed eight acres, and planted it, and harvested 57
bushels of wheat, four bushels of barley, 15 bushels of oats, 10 bushels of
potatoes about the size of marbles. We were late getting water on the land and
the wheat would not come up until it was irrigated.
For a long time we had no beef of our own to kill, so we had no tallow to make
candles, and the only light we had in the cabin was from the fire, in the
fireplace. We had no matches, and had to keep fire always in the fireplace by
covering over the coals at night. At one time our fire went out, and in the
morning we had none. I went out to see if there was any smoke rising from any
of the neighbors cabins with the thought of borrowing some coals, but there was
no smoke anywhere, so I went back and took my old flint lock and put in some
powder and with some paper, succeeded in getting a fire started. We were very
careful after that to keep a fire.
We had several Indian scares during 1860, but in November a lot of Indians
camped near where the sugar factory is now and we got word that they were going
to make a raid, so we got ready for them. Ten men were hid behind a haystack
of father Ricks' near where Moses Thatchers residence is now on Main street,
another ten was hid on the lot where the Thatcher bank is now, and another lot
of men down the street west, as Indians came into town, the first men closed in
behind them and shut off their retreat, and the last men blocked their way in
front and we had them surrounded. When the Indians saw that we had them they
were willing to talk, and a treaty was made, and we gave them a beef, and some
food in order to keep peace. The next day we gave them a feast on the
tabernacle square.
(Robert D. Roberts died August 10, 1925)
