I desire, for the benefit of my descendants yet to come, to write a sketch of some of the happenings of my life.
I was born September 4, 1879, in Malad, Idaho, in a small two roomed straw thatch house situated in the south west corner of the lot on Bannock Street, now owned by my cousin Harvey Jones. When eight days old my life was despaired of and I was christened by Bishop Daniels but it seems I was not permitted to join the innumerable throng so young but was destined to linger on and become a warrior in life’s struggles. My Mother, having three children older than I, experienced a severe trial while rearing such a delicate child as I, for at the time I was but six weeks old diphtheria entered our home and claimed two children, a boy and a girl within two weeks of each other. To make the trial harder for her to bear she had it to endure alone as Father was in Montana at the time working on the telegraph line.
I happened to be the first of their four children to be born with any hair on their heads. A strand of which was clipped from my head and tied with a bow of ribbon and sent to my Father.
Nothing of importance occurred in my life until I was three years old when I had a narrow escape. Mother was visiting at the home of her mother. They had a boiler on the stove preparatory to doing the washing. Grandfather held me on his knee while my aunt held my baby sister and was feeding her. My Aunt’s foot rested against the leg of the stove and on pushing herself back to rise, the leg of the stove was released, the result was the boiler swung toward her and the baby. Grandfather, seeing the danger, hastily sat me down in order to save them but the water dashed around and I was the scalded victim. Through the forethought of grandmother and Mother I was hastily stripped of clothing and rolled in a huge bin of flour, which prevented the air from reaching the burns, and possibly saving my life. After a few weeks of careful nursing assisted by “Grandma Bollingbrook: who was then considered the community doctor, I was pulled through with a few scars which still remain.
A short time after this another tragedy occured to mar my life. It was in the Spring of the year, the roads were very muddy and mother and another lady were walking towards Grandfather’s home. He had just placed a load of clean straw through the corral and called to them to come that way to avoid the mud which they would encounter on the road. The milk cows were lying peacefully on their straw beds. Mother, carrying her baby on her arm had just passed one of the cows, my aunt with I holding her hand, following close behind when the cow raising her head from her side to see who was coming turned her head just in time for the point of her horn to hit me in the left eye. Though only three years of age I can still remember the agony that I endured as the blow was forceful enough to burst the pupil of my eye which ran down my cheek. I was carried to the house in excruciating pain. Immediately a number of elders were called in. They knelt in prayer and I went to sleep as if nothing had happened and when I awoke I was free from pain, but my sight was gone from that eye never to return.
My earliest recollections are of the days spent on the farm. We lived in the meadows about two and one half miles east on a direct line from the Gwynford Mill and about five miles south west of Malad at the forks of the two Malad rivers. Many pleasant hours I spent with neighboring children gathering wild flowers which grew in abundance in the meadows, especially those we called snake flowers. They were orchid in color with yellow centers and grew on long stems and resembled the shamrock in appearance and carried the sweetest fragrance of any wild flower I have ever known. These were gathered by the armsful and could be kept fresh for many days.
Many happy hours were spent in company with some of my school chums who would come to the farm for their summer vacations when we would stroll to the river to swim. After splashing in the water to our hearts content, we would gather cattails and bulrushes. These we would carry home with us, and the flat rushes we would plait and braid, making ourselves hats of every shape and size. These we would decorate with wild flowers and we thought we were living in the height of fashion.
Riding horses was another delight of our visitors, but was of common interest to me as I was the oldest “boy” my parents had. Hardly a day passed that I would not ride a mile or more, sometimes bareback and sometimes with a side saddle which was frequently used in those days, but usually I would go out in the field and call my pony who would come up to me, after petting him, I would bridle him, fasten a surcingle around him and spring on his back and lope away after the cows or other horses or go on an errand to a neighbors. I also rode horseback five miles away to school each morning and back again at night, in the spring and fall. On many of these jaunts I would gallop away but upon reaching the main highway, I would frequently meet Mr. John Davis, my school teacher then a race would begin. On one occasion I well remember our race began well, but did not end so well. As my saddle horse would not let another horse pass him and dashed away at full speed after running about a mile I noticed the cinch of my side saddle was getting looser and looser, I tried frantically to curb him in, but to no avail as long as the other horse was near him. At last in despair, I shouted to my teacher, “Stop you crazy fool”, which he did. I was then able to check my horse and turned him into a sage brush patch just as my saddle turned, throwing me to the ground. I could see what was coming and withdrew my foot from the stirrup. When I reached the ground I was free and held the reins firmly so that nothing serious happened. When my teacher arrived, I had fully recovered my senses and apologized for my rudeness.
As our farm was more of a dairy ranch, we milked a large number of cows. Sometimes we had as high as 24 cows to be milked by my older sister Mary and myself, we had no separator, so it was necessary to place the milk in pans in long rows of shelves in the cellar until the cream would raise, then each night and morning the pans were skimmed of it’s cream, emptied and washed ready for the next milking. One morning after going through this process, the milk pans had been washed, scalded and placed on a long work table out in the sun, one pan leaning against the other. I had been sent on an errand on my pony and on returning, tied her to the leg of the work table and went into the house, shortly after, a strong wind arose and some of the pans rolled from the table, frightening the mare, she jerked back pulling a leg from the table, upsetting all the other pans and frightening the horse until she began to run with the table hitting her at every jump. She ran down to the pasture scaring all the other horses causing another panic while the family stood looking on convulsed with laughter.
My parents had reared a negro boy in our home from the age of nine years and after sundown, two or three nights a week, three or four neighboring families would meet at our home and the boys and occasionally one girl would like to rassell with Tom Brown, the negro. This girl was Susan Babitt and was a large stout girl unafraid of anyone. These rassels would cause a great deal of amusement, especially with the older crowd. Father was usually on the job to see that justice was meeted out to all and that nothing was carried too far. Quite frequently father would put on the boxing gloves and would spar with Tom Brown. He desired him to know how to use his fists in order to protect himself as he was constantly bringing home reports from school of how other boys were abusing him, but it was not long before father had to check him, he was becoming too proficient with his fists. He remained with our family until he was 21 years of age when he decided to leave home. Unaware to any of us, he stole father’s revolver, his gold watch and $5.00 in gold, took his own saddle horse and left us. He has repeatedly asked to return, but he was then old enough to care for himself.
During these evenings in summer we would have very enjoyable times. Father had built a high scaffold for a swing and a greased pole, and you can imagine how many happy hours we children spent with this fine sport. On one occasion a family from Marsh Valley was visiting us on the farm. The man seeing the greased pole offered me a dollar if I could climb to the tip. I immediately donned a pair of overalls and with considerable effort reached the top and earned my dollar. He didn’t know I had been reared as a boy.
Quite frequently I was sent out into the field to harrow the ground with father, also to mow hay and rake it afterwards, then when we were ready to haul it, I usually tromped the hay. I used to think it was tiresome work, but I preferred it to washing dishes, so I was allowed to take my choice.
Milking time was very regular on the farm. We would always have our evening meal about 6 o’clock then while I was getting the cows from the pasture, some of the folks would make a fire near the coral gate, then by the time the cows would reach the coral a few large buffalo chips were placed on the fire so that a huge smoke would arise and by the time the cows passed through the smoke the great swarms of mosquitoes would be driven back or killed by the smoke and the result was we could milk our cows in peace. The mosquitoes were a great menace to farm life and smoke was the only remedy. Sometimes it would be necessary to take a pan of “smudge: ” through the house before we would be able to sleep at night.
Our parents were ever mindful of the social side of our lives even though we lived on a farm many miles from town, we were given the privilege of having our friends celebrate our birthday parties. If they had no easy way of coming themselves, someone would go after them and take them back again. My sixteenth birthday stands out in my mind above all others for among other friends who came was a young man, who later became my life’s companion, though I little expected it then.
My school days were very pleasant although interrupted by frequent sick spells as I suffered with very poor health until about 22 years of age, when after receiving treatment for my teeth, my health became extremely good. When I entered the fourth reader (we had no other way at that time of designating grades) I was sent to the Malad Stake Academy which was held in the vestry of the First Ward Tabernacle. Geo. Cole was Principal and Catharine Jones Palmer as primary teacher. It was a church school and pupils from all over the stake attended. I think while my memory lasts I will write the names of those who I remember attending that school just for memories snake; Maggie, Mary and Annie Jones; Jenkin, Lubin, Edwin, Charlotte and Mary Jones; Annie, Maggie, Jennie, and Evan Evans; Annie and Oliver Williams, Lottie Douglas, Elvira Harrisoon, Mary Ann Kent, Laura Ellis, Clara Bollingbroke, Mary L. Hoskins, Adden T. Ward, Geo. Ward, Ada and Maggie Mifflin, Lizzie Halford, Rant Harris, Wm H. Gibbs, Lizzie and Moses Zundle, Willard Gibbs, Albert and Frank Bowen, Owen Davis, Lewis Williams and their wives, Edwin G. Davis Daniel Hughes, John and Francis Deschamps, Rosalie and Josephine Deschamps. (This was written 40 or 45 years later). There were of course many others but these are the outstanding ones. I was exceptionally small for my age and to be in the room with the large boys and girls- I was frequently made the goat. One event I think I shall always remember; We were in the habit of eating snow, and one day I had asked permission to leave the room, when the others saw me go they began to whisper and make signs for me to bring them a snowball. I was always willing to oblige others when possible and tried to do so then. I had no way of hiding the snow balls except by placing them inside my loose blouse, so I rolled up eight nice sized ones and placed them in my blouse around my waist. All went well until I reached the top of the stairway in our classroom, my spelling class was up reciting. The teacher turned and saw me before I could reach my seat and said, all right little pack horse, your class is waiting for you. I could do nothing else but go and stand in line, but presently the snow began to melt and I didn’t know what to do for by this time all the school was having a big laugh, until finally the teacher said, “Well let the pack horse unload” so I was sent to the window and one by one the snowballs were disposed of to my embarrassment. In spite of this I was a favorite among the grownups and whenever we went to go down stairs for devotional exercises someone of the older young men would pick me up and carry me on his shoulder.
After the closing of the Academy I was sent to the district school and one year we held school in the Old Opera House which stood near where the Jones Auto now stands, but the building was burned down and school was discontinued so I was sent to the Presbyterian School. That year Miss Irene Griffiths was the teacher. She was very nice, though our belief differed occasionally, yet she treated us very good and I received from her a very beautiful teacher’s Baxter’s Bible for reciting 123 Bible verses as she had offered it to the one who could recite the greatest number. Another school I wish to mention that I had the privilege of attending was the B.Y. College at Logan. I belonged to the class of 1901, but sorry to say I didn’t graduate, but after spending one year in the teaching profession, I decided to get married and thus ended my childhood days.
I was married in the Salt Lake Temple, Oct. 10, 1900 to Francis Mitchell Deschamps. He was a very respectable young man with no bad habits and became an ideal husband to me and a wonderful father to his children. One of his characteristics being that he never became angry or if he did, I can truthfully say he never gave me one unkind word, but always tried to make my life happy. A great shock came to him about two years after our marriage. His father, who was riding on a load of grain with him, fell allowing the wagon to back down a dugway, thus throwing him beneath the wagon. He lived nine days in terrible agony and finally passed away. During his illness no one could do anything for him but Francis as he was his favorite son. His loss was a shock to me as well as I had learned to love him very much as well as our Mother who died about six years later. She was a very sensible woman and was very good to me as she was to every one else who knew her.
Our home was the old home of Francis’ parents and was about one block south of the old meeting house. Many happy hours were spent in that old home. It was the birth place of all his family and most of ours. Our oldest boy Francis Mitchell was born at Mother’s home in Malad on Oct. 4, 1901, then came Benjamine Louis, Dec. 25, 1903, then Thurman Lester, Dec. 2, 1906. Milten, another boy, came to our home Jan. 27, 1908. My husband was very proud of his four boys and had helped me plan for their future which of course was going to be wonderful. In April 1910, we purchased from Rachel and Carl the new home as we called it, which had a store, ( which was then abandoned) in the front of it. We were very proud of our new home and anticipated a great deal of joy in it but destiny had ordered it otherwise misfortune was on our rail and the day we moved in, Francis broke his arm, which disabled him for several weeks. My health was very poor for the next few months and on July 12th, I gave birth to our first baby girl. All went fairly well until December of the same year, when Francis met his death very similar to his Father. He had taken a load of grain to the depot, the new elevator belonging to the Farmer’s Union was receiving grain, but had not placed gravel near the platform so that when his wagon struck the platform, the jar loosened the sack upon which he was sitting, throwing him beneath, frightening the horses who pulled the entire load over his body, breaking his back. He was brought to my mother’s home and the children and I were hastily summoned, but he only lived to speak to me saying, “ Oh Hannah I couldn’t help it”, then passed from this life, leaving me a widow with five children, the oldest not 10 years of age. Words cannot express my sorrow at the thoughts of beginning life without him, yet it must be done. My children were now all I had to live for, but my little girl, not being strong and being poisoned by my milk through grieving, acquired paritonitis and after an operation and a long illness, she passed away. This was another great sorrow as I had so much wanted a little girl. About 13 days before her death, Mitchell became very ill, the Dr. thinking he had typhoid fever, treated him accordingly, but on the third day, it was learned he had appendicitis and was rushed to Salt Lake City where it was discovered that the appendix had broken two days before and he could not have it removed because of his condition. However five draining tubes were placed in his body and faint hopes were held for his recovery. My mother, who felt my sorrows as keenly as I had, accompanied him to Salt Lake hospital, as I was unable to leave my little girl. The first 9 days his illness was despaired of and the day my little girl died, I received word that there was little hope for Mitchell, but that day a Patriarch gave him a wonderful blessing, stating that he should live and be a comfort to his mother, which has truly been verified. He began to make a recovery and after my baby’s funeral, I hastened to be with him and to relieve my mother, who had an invalid boy at home who needed her care. After an illness of six weeks, he was permitted to return home. He was in very delicate health all summer and six months later it became necessary for him to return for another operation as the appendix was again ready to burst. After this illness, however, he became perfectly healthy and took on the responsibility of father for our little flock. Ben, our second boy,
After having measles was left with defective ears. He suffered a great deal of agony and many minor operations for the same, having abscesses and tumors removed, he was advised to have his tonsils and nine bones removed from his nose, but to no avail. His ear troubled all through his youth. When he was about 22 years, he had two mastoid operations performed, which caused total deafness in one ear. He also suffered a severe illness when he was about 19 years of age. He was stricken with bronchial pneumonia, which resulted in an operation and was very ill for about six weeks. Thurman, our third boy, suffered with a broken leg, which he received while riding a horse with his cousin Evan Jones. Both boys broke their legs. Evan having the worst break, which required a silver plate to be placed in his leg. Besides all the children suffered with children’s diseases, but the next great sorrow came in the year 1920, when Thurman had an attack of tonsillitis, which brought on heart trouble and kidney disease, which resulted in his death. This indeed seemed more than I could stand to lose a young man as he was past 15 years of age, he resembled his father so much, but we cannot have things as we like them and such was my fate.
While my children were small, I helped with chores, such as milking cows, feeding pigs for our own use, cooking, sewing and gardening and other chores. At first we leased our land and found neither the renter or ourselves received much, as taxes and operations and mortgages were increasing until I was forced to sell our cattle and part of one farm (my father’s old homestead) in order to keep our heads above water. Then when Mitchell was 16 years of age, we were forced to run it ourselves. This meant Mitchell must leave school. The other boys helped in the summer time. After Mitchell was married, he ran it on shares for a few years, but neither of us made anything so he purchased the whole thing, which was necessary in order to get a farm loan. Neither of the other boys wanted it. In the meantime I was keeping boarders, renting apartments.
In the year 1918 I was elected Oneida County Treasurer and served two terms. This was a change for me and I received a great deal of enjoyment from it as it afforded me the opportunity to become acquainted with many people which was fascinating. It also helped me financially and I was enabled to build me a fine modern home where my children and I could enjoy ourselves. However it was not long after this when my boys began marrying and left the home to start homes for themselves.
As I had been accustomed to company and hard work all my life, I found it very difficult to settle down in a big house to live by myself, so I kept a boarding house for a number of years. Then when death claimed my father, my mother was so lonely that I gave up my own home, turning it over to renters and lived with and cared for my mother until after her death.
I next received an appointment to become matron of the Girl’s Camp in Logan Canyon, which position I held for three years and enjoyed very much. On Nov. 11, 1935, I was called to go to the Northern States on a short term mission, I responded and made many permanent friends to the cause and enjoyed my mission immensely. In the fall of 1939, I accepted a position as manager of the Horsley Gift Shoppe, which along with my housework kept me extremely busy up until Jan. 16, 1941 when a serious illness resulted in an operation and it became necessary to give up that kind of work.
Along with my manual labor, I have always held communion with God for without His aid and assistance, I never would have been able to withstand the many trials that have come my way. I have always been humble and prayerful and did nothing without seeking the guidance of my Heavenly Father. I have always given my time and talents in the cause of truth. Even before I was 14, I became secretary of the Primary Association in the Malad Ward, held responsible positions in the M.I. A. and after my marriage, became counselor to Emma Harrison in the Primary of the St. John Ward. When Elvira Harrison was chosen as Stake President of the Malad Stake, I succeeded her in the St. John Ward with Elvira Harrison Deschamps as First Counselor and Margaret H. Jones as Second Counselor, which position I held until 1910.
I remained on the farm in the summer but moved to Malad in the winter time to be near my parents, while my children were small. This required a new president for the St. John Ward. In the year Sept. 15, 1912, I was made President of the Malad 1st Ward with Alice Harding and Sarah A. Thomas as counselors. On Nov. 16, 1919, I became 1st Counselor in the Malad Stake M.I.A. to Amelia Spencer, and on Oct. 16, 1928 I was chosen President of the Malad Stake, which position I held with Blanche Woodland and Beth Andersen as counselors and Sarah Ward as secretary until we were released Oct. 5, 1932. At that time there was a vacancy in the Relief Society Stake Board by the release of Phoebe Smith and I was chosen as counselor to Nellie K. Dredge with Marie Mabey as the other counselor. I held this position until I was called to the Girls Camp, which necessitated my being absent so much.
Upon my return from my mission in the Spring of 1936 I was asked to take over other responsibilities as the Junior Seminary Instructor, also to be a counselor in the M.I.A. to Edith Fink, which position I am still holding in the spring of 1941.
I have always been active in civic and social work, having been a member of the Civic Betterment Organization, member of the Daughter of Idaho Pioneers, Chairman of the Anti-Tuberculosis Association, and member and one time President of the Ladies Literary Society, all of which I have enjoyed.
In spite of the disappointments, sorrows and mistakes of my life, I have tried to face them bravely and uncomplainingly and still say, “ If there must be trouble, let it come to me in my day, that my children and their children many have peace, joy and a good life to appreciate God’s mercies to them” and when life is over, may we all be united once more as a family, for they were all born under the Everlasting Covenant and nothing but our own conduct can break that covenant with our Heavenly Father.