The Reminiscences of James Holt a Narrative of the Emmett Company

Utah Historical Quarterly

Vol. 23, 1955, Nos. 1-4

THE REMINISCENCES OF JAMES HOLT A NARRATIVE OF THE EMMETT COMPANY

EDITED BY DALE L. MORGAN

PART II

INTRODUCTION

IN PART I of James Holt's reminiscences the focus of interest was the period 1844-46, during which he was a member of the company James Emmett led into the Iowa wilderness. This party made its way up the Iowa River and across country to the Missouri River, which was reached at last near the mouth of the Vermillion, in what is now South Dakota. Emmett's company was never entirely out of contact with the church back in Nauvoo, and it got back into the main stream of Mormon history when, in the spring of 1846, it came down die Missouri to rendezvous at Council Bluffs with the migration Brigham Young was conducting across Iowa.

With its absorption into Bishop George Miller's detachment of the Mormon immigration, Emmett's company largely lost its identity. But it was the fate of its members to share at once in the experiences of another remarkably interesting party, and before we pick up the thread of James Holt's narrative again, it is desirable to review briefly the history of Bishop Miller and his company.

George Miller joined the Mormon Church in the spring of 1839. Born in Virginia in 1794, he removed with his family to Kentucky in 1806, and learned the trade of carpenter and joiner. He was living in McDonough County, Illinois, when the Mormons were expelled from Missouri in the winter of 1838-39. He befriended the family of Joseph Smith, and, soon afterwards baptized into the church, became an important figure in its councils, being named bishop by a revelation of 1841.

Miller was never quite reconciled to what was done in working out the problem of succession after Joseph Smith's death. Nevertheless, he was still prominent in the councils of the church when the evacuation of Nauvoo began in February, 1846. Despite some friction between himself and Brigham Young, Miller with his "pioneer" company led the way for the Saints across most of Iowa, reaching the Missouri River nearly opposite Bellevue on June 13, 1846.

Here it was necessary to pause and build a ferry, a labor not completed until June 29. While the work was in progress, on June 18, the Mormons were advised that the American Fur Company "wanted 40 waggons & teams to go 250 miles after fur." Miller was asked to see the company's agent, Peter A. Sarpy, who "offered about $1000 to [have] about 90,000 lbs peltry brought from the head of grand Island & 15 or 20 barrels of Provisions also a horse Bishop Miller took the job." John D. Lee adds that the Twelve "wrote to . . . John L Butler & the Mormons with him [Emmett's company] to come to the Ferry Point immediately to go after the fur."

According to William C. Staines, just as the wagons were ready to start, a messenger arrived from Sarpy's traders, advising that they were bringing their robes and furs down to his post by water and had no use for teams. Sarpy told the Bishop to send his wagons to the trading post and he would pay a forfeit. "The Bishop protested that under the circumstances he had no claim, but [Sarpy] insisted and the wagons were sent and returned loaded with corn."

The episode got Emmett's company into motion again. Meanwhile an entry in the diary of Hosea Stout has an important bearing on the history of this company. Stout was en route to the Bluffs, when, on June 20, 1846, a few miles west of Mount Pisgah, he fell in with James W. Cummings, then returning to Nauvoo for his family. Cummings, it will be remembered, on March 27 had been sent with John L. Butler with instructions for Emmett's company about meeting the main body of the Saints, and he had reported back to Brigham Young on June 11 near the Bluffs.

Cummings now told Stout that when he got to the Vermillion he found "that Emmett was absent having gone to some of the neighbouring Indians to trade off some horses and consequently he had no trouble with him. But some of his company were yet strong advocates for him & some as hard against him among the latter was his wife who was tired of his oppression & tyranny.

"The two parties were about equally divided. Some of the party however having gone before to the settlements near or above Fort Leavenworth. They managed to get all of those who were yet there to move down to where we were to cross the Missouri at the Bluffs not however without considerable opposition from Emmetts adherents. Suffice it to say that they all left and came off and brought every thing with them and left Emmett to guess at what had happened & follow on or do whatever else he thought best. They had come to the Council Bluffs & Emmett followed an [on] and was here strip [p]ed of his kingdom and him & all his followers put under Bishop Miller and sent on to Grand Island."

It so happened that on June 27, 1846, a party of Presbyterian missionaries and government employees who had been laboring among the Pawnees at a station on the Loup Fork of the Platte arrived at Bellevue to report that the Sioux had attacked their establishment; they had had to abandon their crops and most of their possessions, and were anxious to salvage them.

A working arrangement with these refugees exactly suited the convenience of the Saints. "I made a bargain to haul them and their effects down," Miller says, "and forthwith started (the distance 120 miles) with thirty-two wagons, and the families thereto belonging, intending to unload the families and camp, and let the teams return with the missionaries to the Bluffs.

"We started on the expedition on the 9th July, and on the 18th we arrived at the mission station, and on the 22nd July we sent them to Council Bluffs. We received in payment for hauling the effects of the missionaries their standing crop of wheat, oats and garden vegetables, together with a lot of old corn, which was all better for us than money. While the teams were gone with the missionaries' goods, we harvested and threshed our grain, shelled the corn and sacked all ready for a move on return of our teams."

Although the mustering of the Mormon Battalion chiefly preoccupied Brigham Young during the first three weeks of July, 1846, he did not immediately give up his project of sending an advance company across the mountains, or of getting a considerable part of the Camp of Israel to the head of Grand Island for the winter. On July 14, he suggested to the Twelve the propriety of the main body's going up the east side of the Missouri River to winter (later the west bank was selected); of sending a small company only to Grand Island "to build a fort etc., and prepare a settlement"; and of dispatching Miller's company on over the mountains.

In furtherance of these plans, on July 22-23 he started off to Grand Island some 150 wagons detached from his own and Heber C. Kimball's companies. But shortly afterward seven wagons arrived from Miller's camp laden "with Missionary and government property, which had been removed from Pawnee village through fear of the Indians"; and when the men and teams started back to join Miller, they carried a letter from Young revoking the previous directive. "We think it would be wisdom for as many teams and saints among your companies to winter at the Pawnee village as can well be sustained, the balance to winter at Grand Island, or some point near by .... A small company, say from twenty to thirty wagons, can go on to Fort Laramie and winter there, if you choose, but we do not think it advisable for any of you to undertake to cross the mountains this fall. Use your own judgment with regard to wintering . . . ." The suggestion was made that it might be desirable for the company which wintered at the Pawnee village "to put in some fall wheat, and also to buy all the grain and other property in that place which may be for sale on reasonable terms, for most likely we shall want to make a permanent location there."

Three days later another letter was sent to Miller: "We are satisfied that it will be impolitic for any company to attempt to cross the mountains .... According to the best knowledge we have, we are now disposed to recall our recommendation of making Fort Laramie or the island this fall, for there is danger of the fires cutting off supplies for your stock, and we would like to have you so near us that we may visit each other occasionally through the winter." It was suggested that a council of twelve be organized to superintend affairs, with Miller as president.

During the absence of the wagons detailed to haul the effects of the missionaries down to the Bluffs, Miller's camp was visited by the principal chief of the Ponca Indians and several other braves. The Ponca chief told Miller that Brigham Young's orders would not do, "that the Pawnees wintered their horses at Grand Island, and that our immense herd would eat up all the feed before the winter was half gone, and when the Pawnees came in from their winter hunt they would kill all our cattle, and drive us away." He proposed that Miller "go with him to his village, on or near the Loquocore or Running-water River, [saying] that there was rushes abundant to winter all our cattle, and to spare; that it was his country, and he had the granting of privileges "

The Saints in council agreed to accompany the Ponca chief to his village, and on August 13 they set off for the Niobrara, arriving August 23. This information, derived from Miller's narrative, is backed up by a letter he wrote the Twelve on August 13, which letter also advises that Jacob Gates, Lyman Hinman, and 12 others, with their families, were to remain at the Pawnee village. It appears that about 30 wagons were left, and that from 160 to 175 went on to the Niobrara.

The site Miller's company selected for wintering is located by one account "on the west side of the mouth of the Running water River," by another "about one mile from the Missouri River, and near the mouth of Swift or Running-Water River." Two men from Miller's camp who journeyed down to the Mormon headquarters reported on September 15 "that the camp were in good health, one death had occurred and one man sick, that there were an hundred and seventy five wagons, besides some who had dissented and were returning, that they had found buffalo within a hundred miles of their camp, that there were rushes on the islands of the running water and bottoms of the Missouri, and that they held some things in common."

In October Miller came down from the Niobrara with some wagons and other articles, which he proposed to exchange for provisions. He reported, Hosea Stout says, "That they were on the nearest and best rout to the pass in the mountains That it was a level road all the way to Fort Larame That James Emmett Joseph Holbrook and Joe Mathews were sent as a committee to look out a road to the pass and report in time to start in the spring."

Miller returned north again November 15. A few days later Young sent off a message asking him to come back to Winter Quarters, bringing Emmett with him, for councils respecting the future movements of the Saints. A little rebelliously, Miller came down at Christmas for these discussions. It was then decided to get off a pioneer company early in the spring with a view to reaching the headwaters of the Niobrara by the time grass appeared, prepared to cross the Black Hills "& put in a crop of grain somewhere on this side of the mountains near the head of the Yellow Stone."

On January 14, 1847, Brigham Young brought forth a revelation concerning the intended migration of the Saints. E. T. Benson and Erastus Snow were delegated to carry this revelation to the camp on the Niobrara, and they presented it for their sanction on February 7-8. On Benson's return to Winter Quarters he reported that the camp was organized "comprising ninety-eight men, including three hundred and ninety-six souls."

The plans to travel to the mountains via the Niobrara proved unworkable. On March 25, 1847, Brigham Young wrote the camp at Ponca, "By your report sent by Elder Benson we understand that you have not provision as a people, to fit you for this journey and it is not wisdom for you to separate into small parties surrounded as you are or attempt to plant or sow where you are . . . therefore our council to you is, that you return to this place, or somewhere in this vicinity as speedily as your situation will permit and retaining your present organization, put in crops sufficient to sustain yourselves, and prepare you to go at a future day . . . ."

The Saints at Ponca, as James Holt records, came down the Missouri in April, most of them going to farming. Before their arrival, Bishop Miller came to a final break with Brigham Young and the Twelve. Friction between the two men had been of constant occurrence, irritating to both, and Miller had finally been asked to bring his family down from Ponca and take up his duties as bishop at Winter Quarters. This he did in February. Things did not improve afterwards, and the breaking point was reached April 2. With the Saints in the midst of preparations to get the Pioneer Company off to the mountains, Miller that night raised for the last time the ghost of his Texas project. Hosea Stout, who was present, says that Miller "wanted to go and settle between the Rio Grande and the Neuses river and make treaty with Mexico & have them give us the land &c. But this was in dispute now between the United States & Mexico and was the great thoroughfare for both armies." Stout adds, "A very few words from different ones on the subject caused him to confess the impracticability of his plans."

But now let us return to June, 1846, and the east bank of the Missouri River. There we may take up the narrative of James Holt, who has just received word that he and the other members of Emmett's company are to join Bishop Miller's company and journey with it to the Rocky Mountains.

LIFE OF JAMES HOLT

We came back [to Keg Creek from upper Missouri] and got our families and crossed the Missouri River in July, joining Miller's company, and made for the Pawnee, which was a trading station. But the men of the station had been driven out by the Indians previously, and had started to return. When they fell in with our company, Brother Miller had promised to haul their effects. The day before we were to arrive there, those men went on ahead to arrange things at the fort for our reception.

About noon Emmett came to me and said he was impressed that something would happen to those men, and he wished to get my horse and go and overtake them. I let him have the horse and he went on to the fort. He found that the [Ponca] Indians had all collected to kill them. He told the men to make a feast for the Indians and treat them well, and they would not be harmed until he could go back to camp and return with help. He got back to our camp about one o'clock at night and called for a few men to go back to the fort with him immediately. About twenty-five or thirty [19] men responded to the call, including myself. It was about fifteen [20] miles to the fort. We were in a wild Indian country, and nearly all of our able-bodied men were now called on to leave their wives and children, the aged and infirm, to the mercies of the savages. It was quite a perilous time. Women were clinging to their husbands, and trying to prevail upon them not to go and leave them in their dangerous position, but we commended them to the Lord and departed on foot in the dead of night.

We arrived at the fort just at the first glimmer of dawn. We found the Indians all asleep in a circle around the dying embers of their camp fire. We carefully approached, surrounding them, pointed our guns and [made] ready to fire at them at a given signal. Emmett spoke to the chief in his own tongue. The chief arose to his feet, with the well-known Ugh!, at which the Indians all arose. Finding themselves in such a trap, they shook hands with us all around, led by the chief and silently took their departure, and thus we saved the fort without the shedding of blood.

We went back and met our teams, which had been hitched up by the men and women of the company, and started on the way to the fort. We took charge of our teams and reached the fort during the day. The station men were now afraid to stop at the fort any longer, for they knew that when we were not there, the Indians would come upon them again and massacre them. So they gave Brother Miller all the corn and grain they had to take them and their effects back to the Bluffs. We stopped here about two weeks and harvested their grain, loaded up, and were ready to start again on the journey, when a dispute arose as to the leadership.

We had been increased by this time by two companies. One was led by Kimball, and one company [was] called [the] Brigham Company. Although they were all under the direction of Brigham, Miller wished to have the honor of being chief captain because he had started out first. Some of the brethren wrote to Brigham at the Bluffs to settle the dispute and know what to do. He wrote for us not to go any farther this season, as it was too late, but to find a suitable place and winter, and he would advise us further in the spring.

We turned off on the Missouri Bottoms, camped at the mouth of Puncaw River, and went to work building shanties to winter in. The grain we brought with us from Ponnie Fort was now all divided up by Brother Miller among the company. Six bushels of corn, forty pounds of flour, and a few oats fell to my share. We made the oats into meal and tried to eat them, but it was very poor stuff. Now, the way we pulverized our grain, most of the time in our travels, was to pound it in a mortar, and make it into soup, seasoning it with squirrels' legs, or a small piece of any other meat we might happen to obtain. We tried many experiments with different things to see if they were eatable. We searched out everything we could to sustain life. We even tried to make biscuits with elm bark but it was a poor substitute. At one time we were poisoned by eating some gar eggs, and we concluded that these were not food for man. A great many roots we obtained were good for food, such as the lion root, artichoke, and hog potatoes. The rations which I received at Puncaw were very small for my family. I had at that time five in the family, including myself, but [by] going down the river to work, and getting a few jobs around home, and straining all my energy, we made out to live through the winter. Many things turned up for our sustenance, which would look almost like a miracle to some. There was one time during the winter that the Lord opened a way for me to get a few pounds of flour without much exertion on my part. It was but a small amount, but the Lord opened the way for me to obtain it. It was as thankfully received at that time as fifty times the amount would have been at different times since.

There was a man by the name of Dalton who had lost a cow, and had been hunting for it two or three days. He came to me one evening and offered me sixteen pounds of flour if I would get her for him, so I arose early the next morning, preparatory to getting ready to start out on the hunt for a cow. I looked out, and it seemed a dismal day to take a tramp in the snow. While I was looking out, I heard a cow bellow close to my shanty, and I saw Dalton's cow close by. She seemed to be waiting for me to drive her home, which I soon did, and obtained twelve pounds of flour. He thought I shouldn't have the full amount, as I had not been to any trouble to hunt for her. However, I was very thankful for the small amount.

The next spring Brigham sent for us to all come back to the Bluffs. We were now all without provisions, and Emmett took a horse and started on ahead to obtain means for us to get provisions. He agreed to meet us at a certain place, but he did not meet us until we got to Mosquito Creek, which was near our journey's end. We had suffered greatly for the want of food, but by dint of much labor and fatigue in hunting wild animals and fowls, we made out to keep from starving. When we got to the Bluffs our company was broken up. Emmett and a few of us went down on the Waupause [Waubonsie] Creek in Fremont County, Iowa, and took up farms. We sowed some buckwheat and planted some potatoes, and raised a crop. There was a settlement close by where we obtained employment enough to get provisions to keep us from starving until our crops matured. My first child by my wife Parthenia died here, on the 15th of August, 1847.

After our crops were raised, we began to do very well. I stopped here for several years and began to accumulate means until I became very comfortably situated. One great drawback with this place was that it was very unhealthy. We had a great deal of sickness in our family, but otherwise it was a rich place. There was all manner of wild fruit, such as grape, raspberry, blackberry, mulberry, strawberry, and nuts of every kind which would grow in a cold climate, and a great amount of wild game, such as the deer, elk, coon, turkeys, and all kinds of fowls and fish, and the honey bee, and any amount of all kinds of timber, and the land was very productive for everything but wheat, which didn't do very well. I generally raised other kinds of grain and bought what flour I wished by the barrel, which was brought up the river from other places.

The Church went on to the Rocky Mountains, the first company arriving in Salt Lake Valley on the 24th of July, 1847, being led by Brigham Young. He was now [December, 1847] installed as President of the Church, with Willard Richards and Heber C. Kimball as his counselors, and others were chosen to fill their places in the Quorum of the Twelve. The Church was again organized according to the original pattern, and installed in the hearts of the Rocky Mountains, or the valleys thereof, in the midst of the savages of the forest, in a desert place among alkali and sagebrush, over one thousand miles from any town or village, in a land which looked as if nothing would ever grow in such a barren waste. But years later, the valleys of the mountains were filled with most beautiful vegetation and all manner of grain and fruit of every kind.

In 1849 Brother Emmett started for California. He had some difficulty with his family, and he declared he would go where they would never hear of him. He left all his family but one daughter. 29 He stopped a few days in Salt Lake Valley and Brigham had a long conversation with him, trying to get him to stop with the Church, but for some cause unknown to me, he had rebelled and would no longer follow the Church. He went on to California, where he died in 1854 or 1855. His family never heard a word from him until his death, although his daughter had written over twenty letters to them, thus fulfilling his famous prediction.

In 1850 Simpson Emmett, the son of Brother Emmett, started to Salt Lake Valley, taking with him his father's family. Simpson Emmett had married Catherine Overton, sister to my wife. I took his farm, giving him $200 for it and if I could sell it in the future for a larger price, I was to give him the remainder when I met him in the Valley, as I contemplated going there as soon as I could conveniently.

In the spring of 1852 I made calculations to go to Salt Lake Valley where the Saints were gathering. I tried to sell my place, but could only get $350 for it, including the farm I had got from Emmett. I sold to William Holloway, but he was to pay me extra for everything else that I left and couldn't sell, but when I got ready to start he would not pay me another cent, and I had to leave about 300 bushels of corn in the crib, a stack of oats, a smoke house full of meat, seven stands of bees, and several other things. But he never received much benefit from it himself, for he bought a band of horses and started with them a year or two after to California, thinking to get quite a sum for them, but when he got on the Humboldt a little over half-way, he was killed by the Indians.

Iowa was a very unhealthy place, my family was sick a great deal, and I myself was greatly afflicted with the ague [malaria], I don't think that I could have survived much longer had I continued to stop there, but the Lord saw fit to bring upon me those afflictions in order that I might be gathered with the Saints. We started about the middle of July and went on Keg Creek about eight miles. I left some of my stock, including a yoke of steers, and my three eldest children, who were to stop and see to things until the next morning. I was calculating to go back after them, but somehow I felt a presentiment that something would happen to them and I couldn't rest, so I took my team, just previously unloaded, and started back about dark; I got back before day, and I learned that William Alma, the youngest of the three, had broken his arm. Those steers before mentioned were yoked together and left in the corral, and while his sister was milking the cows, William got to climbing upon their backs (they being of very gentle disposition). He was thrown off; his arm was broken between the wrist and elbow. His wrist and elbow were both put out of joint. The joints had both been set and the arm splinted by those who had bought the place.

I now started back to Keg Creek taking my children and all my effects which I could take. I arrived before night. The next day I got an old lady to attend to my son's arm. In a day or two I started again, and got as far as Mosquito where I stopped about one week waiting for Dr. William Smith to get ready to accompany me. This Smith was not a Mormon; he was going to California and wished to cross the plains with as small a company as possible on account of sickness, as it was a very bad year for cholera. We were also joined by a brother, Levi [Lewis?], who was going to the Salt Lake Valley. We now, being all ready, started on our long and tedious journey of over one thousand miles across the great plains where there was no civilization, in a country that was infested by savages. There were only three families of us nearly the whole of the journey.

We crossed the Missouri River on the 27th of July. We got to Ash Hollow in two days, having traveled all night the second night, as there was a camp of Indians on the South Fork. The doctor thought it wiser to travel in the night in order to get as far from them as possible. The next day we traveled only seven miles. On the next morning, which was the 31st, my son Franklin O. was born, and on the next day, August 1, we continued our journey. Most of our traveling this year was on the north side of the Platte, so we took the south, thinking it would be the most healthful, as there was a great deal of cholera on the north route. We had no sickness to amount to anything during the whole trip (although a great many of those ahead and behind us were dying of cholera, and it was more serious on the other route), and we had no trouble with the Indians.

One morning after we had got under traveling way, there was an alarm of Indians, and looking to the left on a hill, we beheld a large company of Indians. When we arrived opposite them, they came down ahead of us blocking the road. There were about 500 of them, and many of the people began to fear that this was their last day, and I expect the doctor began to see, in imagination, his scalp dangling in the belt of some dusky savage, for he was a natural-born coward; but his scalp was safe for the present hecause the Indians, seeing our small number, thought we were brave and they have always got a great respect for a brave person. Therefore they spread down their blankets and we gave them a little flour, sugar, and coffee, and a little of such things as we could spare. They then opened the road for us to pass. Some of them went with us for a day or two and helped us drive our cattle, and treated us with great respect.

There was another alarm of Indians when we were in a very unsafe place, as the Indians in that part of the country were a very bloodthirsty set. It occurred one evening after we had camped. In the distance we saw a lone horseman making his way toward us. We soon found it to be an Indian so the doctor thought he would start a little strategy to frighten him away, for he had no doubt but what he was sent for a spy. There was a boy in the camp, one of brother Lewis's sons, who had a very freckled face. The doctor had him get in the wagon as quick as possible, he then put a little flour on the boy's face, and put him in bed between two sheets. He looked almost like a corpse. The Indian came up and the doctor told him we had smallpox in that wagon. The Indian took one look at the boy and struck for the plain for dear life. He thought sure the boy had smallpox, and they were afraid to death of the disease. The doctor gained his point and we never saw the Indian after that for two or three weeks. We never had trouble with Indians while we were on our journey. We had nothing serious occur any further, but it was a very serious journey. Many times we had to travel way into the night and sometimes all night to reach water.

We finally arrived in Salt Lake Valley and went about 45 miles north of Salt Lake City, to the bend of the Weber River, in Weber County, where Simpson Emmett lived. We arrived there on the 27th of October, being just three months on the way. 3 built me a house close to the Emmetts, where we stopped during (the winter.

We had not been here long when my wife took sick with the mountain fever, and continued to be [sick] most of the winter, being so low that her child could not nurse and had to be raised by hand. My eldest daughter, Mary Ann, was also taken sick with the same complaint, and the rest of us had our hands full. It kept me busy tending the sick; my son, LeRoy, did the housework, and William tended the smaller children. My wife's sister, Simpson Emmett's wife, did what she could for us, but she had small children and she didn't have much spare time. My wife hung between life and death for several days, but the Lord again blessed us with health when the spring returned.

Before spring I went up to North Ogden and bought a farm from Aaiff [Asa or Ira?] Rice, for three hundred and fifty dollars, selling some cattle to make the first payment. The place was about ten miles from where I wintered and six miles from Ogden City, which at that time consisted of only a few farms, with people living upon their own farms. I raised a very good crop. In the fall [1853] the people of different parts of Utah (which was the name of Salt Lake County) , were counseled by Brother Brigham to build forts, in order to protect themselves against Indians. The people of North Ogden selected a place which was north [of] and joining upon my farm, so it didn't put me to the trouble of moving. This place was presided over by Bishop Thomas Dunn. The people of the place began to gather, and it was not long before we had a settlement, but the wall around it was never built because the Indians around here were not considered very troublesome, and the settlement was laid off in the form of a town, with building lots and streets of right angles.

Along sometime in the fall of the same year, which was 1853, my children took the whooping cough, and Joseph succumbed to the disease and died in November, after much suffering. He was a very bright boy for his age and we missed him greatly. In a week from his death our youngest child also died from the same disease. It was a girl of two months. During the winter, I was ordained to the office of a High Priest, under the hands of Bishop Dunn, and appointed as one of his counselors.

In February, 1854, we had another girl who only lived one week. During the summer of 1855 I built a more comfortable home. In October the same year, my eldest daughter, Mary Ann, was married to William Barker. During the summer there was very little grain raised, a great deal of the wheat being smut, and a great amount was destroyed by crickets and grasshoppers, and many people suffered greatly for want of food before another harvest. During the winter the snow fell quite deep, causing thousands of cattle to die. I lost all of mine but one yoke of oxen, one heifer, and a horse. That winter has been known as the "hard winter," and it surely deserves the name, for it was hard for both man and beast.

In the fall [summer] of 1857 the government sent an army to destroy the Saints. Our President (at that time Governor of Utah), Brigham Young, called out an army to prevent them from coming into the Valley. They were not to go against them in battle, but to act as skirmishers to prevent the enemies from coming in. My two eldest sons were out in most of those skirmishes. Finally, Brigham gained his point, and kept our enemies from entering until spring. When the difficulty was amicably settled by the peace commission sent to him by the government, Brigham agreed to let them enter if they would not stop within forty miles of Salt Lake City. But as we had been betrayed many times by government, Brigham couldn't trust them, so he issued a proclamation to the Saints in the north to move south. They were all required to move sixty miles south of Salt Lake City, a group of men were left in each settlement to set fire to every thing, at the word of command from our headquarters, which should be given if our enemies should break their promise. But for once they kept faith with us and passed through the deserted Salt Lake City and went west forty-five miles. 39 I moved my family to Springville, which was about fifty-five or sixty miles south of Salt Lake City. Here my son, George A., was born on the 28th of May.

After the army passed through, we were permitted to return to our homes. I found a very good crop of volunteer wheat growing on my farm. Although not having saved much grain, the Lord did permit me to reap a good harvest. During the previous winter, my eldest son, LeRoy, married Ellen Lowe, daughter of John and Ann Lowe. In July, 1859, my son William A. married Sarah Wardle, daughter of John and Sarah Wardle. During this summer I resigned as the Bishop's Counselor. I will here state that I responded to every call in the line of my duty while I was acting in that office and many times I have neglected my own work to attend to tithing matters and also the Bishop's individual work, while he was neglecting his duties and spending his time in pleasure. My house was also a home for the poor, having kept at my house and provided for many people. There was never a winter that I did not have one to one-half dozen people to provide for besides my own family.

In the fall of 1860 I concluded to sell out, as it was getting very hard to get wood, and not having any team but a yoke of young steers which, with a few other things taken in consideration, I concluded to sell my place and the following spring went to Ogden Valley, eastward about fifteen or twenty miles, and took up a farm, and moved to the same. I put in a crop, but I was very late. I soon sold this place and bought another in the north end of the valley [Eden vicinity] upon which I moved. I cut a few tons of hay, but during the winter it rained very severely for several days and spoiled almost all the hay in the valley. The snow also fell quite deep, and the cattle suffered greatly. This valley was very cold, and the grain all got frosted before it was ripe, so I thought this no place for me, and there having been a call for volunteers to go south about 350 miles where the climate was warm enough to raise cotton, I concluded to go. So I sold my place here, and started in the summer of 1862, my son, William, taking his family and going with me.

I bought a farm and settled in Washington, but only farmed here two seasons, having very poor land, also having to haul our cotton and molasses fifty or a hundred miles north to exchange for grain, as this was a very poor grain country. Here I also lost another child, a girl of about two years of age. We had another son born here on the 26th of October, 1864, whom we called Henry D.

Having heard a great deal about Long Valley, which was situated east about eighty miles, I went to take a look at it, and it seemed to be a very good place which the people were just settling up. I took up a farm, sold out in Washington, and moved to Long Valley in February, 1865. I cleared off a few acres of land and built a house and put in a crop. In the summer there was quite an excitement about the Indians, and we were required to fort up, so I moved to the fort, which was about two miles from my place. I lived there two months, then as the Indians seemed to be peaceable, I moved back upon my farm. During my spare time I built myself a house in the fort. I harvested a good crop and in February, 1866, I moved my family back to the fort. I rented a farm and put it in also, in my own land, which was cleared, having no help but my son Franklin, who was only fourteen years [old].

In June we got a letter from Erastus Snow, who was one of the Twelve and the President of the southern part of Utah [i.e., the Southern Mission], to move out where we would be safe from the Indians, as they were again at a point of breaking out, so we all moved out. I moved to Virgin City, and camped on the river and under a cottonwood tree for eight weeks. During that time I built a house in Virgin City, and moved in. Now we wished to go back and harvest our grain, and I hauled one load out and went back after another, and gathered the rest of my crop, such as squash and other produce. My son Franklin was with me. In company with the others we started out with another load. We had only got about twenty-five miles. We camped on the river on the foot of the big hill. We had got all the wagons up it the day before, all but the provision wagon, and on this morning we were getting these down and up the next hill, when the Indians came upon us. There were three wagons going down with three span of horses to each wagon. The teamsters only had time to get out three horses before they were run away. The Indians then unhitched the rest of the horses, and took them, but while they were unhitching, the men went toward them and fired and shot one man, giving him a flesh wound, which caused them to return to camp.

Along about noon Indian Mose (who professed to be a friendly Indian), was back there fighting the Navajoes, which we then believed to be the Indians creating all the disturbances, and he wished some of us to go back and help him. Six men started back, and when they got about half way they stopped to listen. All was still, and fearing they were being led into a trap, they returned to camp. Along about dusk, Mose came again and told us we would be killed if we stopped here during the night, for there were a heap of Navajoes coming, and we had better take the trail. I told them that if there was a lot of Navajoes coming, they would surely watch the trail. John Berry, being captain, advised us to go down the creek to Virgin City, so we started. Mose now shouted to another friendly Indian to go and get some buckskin, and he said something else which our interpreter, William Berry, could not understand. We had not gone far when we spied a fire on the mountains to our right. William Berry asked the Indian Mose what it meant. He said it was where the Indians had camped and had left a stick burning.

After we got opposite the light, we heard a dog give a yelp as if it was struck, and we had not gone far until an oppressive feeling came over me. I asked Brother Smith how he felt, and he said about the same as I did. I then asked William Berry who was ahead of me how he felt, and he said he did not feel like all was right. I told him to tell John Berry, who was ahead, to stop. He did so. I then told them if we went much farther on this route we were going, we would all be massacred, for I felt like it was going to be a slaughter house. I then told them that if we would only go back to the fort there would be help sent to assist us before another day passed. Berry did not want to go back to the fort, but he concluded to turn back, take another trail and go by [way of] Colob. We did so and arrived home safely, after traveling all night and three days.

But as I had predicted, if we had gone any farther down the creek, we would have been massacred, for Mose, the Indian, was a traitor, and also, as I predicted, a company came to the fort next day to our assistance, but not finding us there, they went to where we had left our wagons and emptying our wheat all out on the ground, they hitched up our teams and took everything else we had brought to the settlement. They seemed to think our goods was public property, for I never got anything but my team and wagon, but I felt that the hand of the Lord was over us, and I felt to thank him for preserving our lives.

In the month of February, 1867, I moved to the Mountain Meadows, which was north [northwest] of Washington about forty miles. I rented a farm from Simpson Emmett, who had moved from the north some years previous and lived there.

[Thus ends the story of the first sixty-three years of James Holt's life, as told to his son, William. The remaining twentyseven years are told by a granddaughter, Mary Ann Cottam Miller.]

When James Holt moved to the Mountain Meadows in 1867, there had been established a small settlement named Hamblin in honor of Jacob Hamblin who, in the early 1850's, established a ranch at the north end of the Meadows to care for his cattle interests and to assist emigrants passing on their way to California. These people, when reaching Cedar City, traveled the route which turned west onto the Escalante Desert until reaching what was called Pinto Canyon, then along the water course to where later the town of Pinto was located. From there the road turned west, crossing over the divide into the Meadows. It was along this highway route that the town [hamlet] of Hamblin was located. To the east of the town was a small spring, which had spread over the Meadows and now was used by the settlers for culinary purposes and to irrigate gardens and orchards. The Meadows extended five or six miles, divided into two distinct parts by a higher body of rich soil forming the dividing line. This line was about the center of the valley and divided the flow of water, that to the north running out a draw, or canyon, later known as Holt's, onto the Escalante Desert; while the south drainage formed the head of the Magotsu, a tributary of the Santa Clara Creek. At the extreme end of each of these fertile valleys were large meadows where travelers, on their way to California, often stopped to rest and graze their teams, to prepare them for the long hard trip over the desert just ahead to the south and west. On these meadows great quantities of wild hay were cut by the travelers to carry on their way and by the farmers and stock growers to provide feed for their cattle and teams during the winter. James Holt was one of these farmers.

The Meadows like all other places where the farmers extended their acreage, plowing up that which nature had provided for preserving the soil from erosion, had reached down to the narrow channel of the canyon. The loose soil began to give way to the runoff waters carrying away the precious soil. Soon deep gullies were formed by drawing off the water which had provided underground irrigation for the meadows. At Hamblin no effort was made to stop this continual washing until all of the fertile farm lands were gullied deeper and the land became unproductive.

James Holt, who had been a renter of the farm of Simpson Emmett, saw the inevitable result, and realizing what would eventually come to the town of Hamblin, he followed the water down the canyon to the north, where it opened out onto the desert. He diverted the small stream onto a garden plot along the stream and planted an orchard of apple trees.

By 1875 the stream of water had increased to such an extent that he prepared to establish his home at what was to be known as Holt's Ranch. First he built a log house but later he built a fourroom rustic lumber house. When his two younger sons married, they built nice, red brick houses. Here was to be carried on the extensive farming, cattle, sheep, and horse growing operations of James Holt and sons, "Whose place by the side of the road was to become a friend to man"; and here were cared for the many travelers who passed this way. Many passed by who were not able to pay for the southern hospitality extended to them.

As the flow of water increased in the creek, a large reservoir was made, collecting all the runoff water. Canals were provided, conducting the streams of water to large tracts of land out on the desert. Here huge crops of grain were raised. The production increased to the extent that at harvest time a group of harvest hands had to be hired for cutting and binding the grain crops. At threshing time the threshing machine would come from Pinto and as the yield increased this service was provided from Pine Valley. The crew of hired men and the large teams which ran the horse power had to be cared for, sometimes for a week. With a large supply of grain and hay, the ranch was able to care for the hundreds of travelers going to and from the mining camps of Nevada, also over the desert road which was used by the teams hauling freight from the [then] railroad terminal of Milford to the towns in Washington County.

A large number who sought the hospitality of the ranch were those passing between the noted mining camp of Pioche, Nevada, and Silver Reef. Coming in contact with these travelers, James was imbued with the idea that there was more wealth in searching for the hidden mines than there was on the farm. He became very much interested in a ledge he felt sure was a mine of rich gold. He was anxious to tell people coming his way about his find. One day a man came to the door and was invited in, as was the Holt custom. The host in the course of conversation told his visitor about the possibility of a fine mining district. The visitor listened with interest then asked to give some advice. He said for James Holt to have nothing to do with mines or mining, for if he did, his sons would leave him and he would lose them; but if he kept the farms and farm interests, they would stay with him and become prominent citizens, leaders, and bishops.

Who the visitor was, where he came from, or where he went no one knew. As long as James Holt lived, he was convinced the visitor was a divine personage sent to warn him, as he stressed the fact that wealth was to be found in the family with their vast herds of cattle, bands of horses, productive farms and miles of pasturage; and later he saw the fulfillment of the promises made relative to the accomplishments of his sons. He was so impressed by the visit he had received that he never again gave thought to mines or mining. Instead he turned to the work of his fine orchard of apples, peaches, plums, and currants, the grain and lucerne fields, the fine garden of vegetables and melonsall of which had been neglected.

Now he thought of the many things to be done to improve his home. He and the boys built better corrals and sheds with pens for his sheep and all animals which should be protected from wild animals; they built a fine large granary for the grain, a nice cellar for the milk, butter, and cheese, a pit in which to store the vegetables for winter, and a potato pit. He could spend more time teaching the group of Indians which lived on the ranch. He gave them a piece of land and taught them to make a garden similar to his, he furnished them the seed and helped them to plant and irrigate until they could do for themselves. He talked their language to them and they loved him.

During the boom days of Pioche, hundreds of teams hauling to and from the camp made Holt's Ranch the main stopping place. Here teams were fed and drivers could buy milk, butter, cheese, eggs, at times beef and pork, and during the summer, vegetables, fruits, and melons. There was no cafe, but many a hungry person was given a meal. During the summer months many cows were milked and butter and cheese was made.

In the 1880's when the ranch was doing a good business financially the Holts spent much means on genealogy. They purchased a Holt family book at a great price. This book contained the list of the Holt ancestors back to early Massachusetts days.

After purchasing the book, they paid large sums to have the families it contained assembled into large record books.

The temple in St. George had been completed, and during the winter months James and wife left the ranch in the care of the sons while they spent their time doing work for their kindred dead in the temple.

Few men are privileged to live a life of near ninety years so full of hardships, pioneering, home building and farm making as James Holt. However, he did not live to see all the promises made by the stranger he felt to be a divine messenger, relative to his three youngest sons, fulfilled.

The eldest son married and lived at Hamblin a short time, when he was called to Gunlock to preside over the people there as bishop. Franklin Overton Holt became as a father to the people of Gunlock for many years.

George Albert was called to Hebron to preside as bishop. He was later asked to move to Enterprise, a new town, 56 where he helped the people financially in addition to being bishop and adviser for them. Hundreds of people have received of his help and generosity.

Henry Davis, the youngest, helped pioneer the town of Central and was its bishop. Thus all three sons of James Holt became leaders and bishops among the people.

James Holt died at his ranch January 24, 1894. He was buried in the family cemetery on the hillside overlooking the ranch home.

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