HYRUM BANKS SCHOFIELD
1848-1933
-As told by himself to his daughter. Lucille S. Jackson
I, Hyrum Banks Schofield, was born April 22, 1848, at No. 22 Cross Leitch Street, Staleybridge, Cheshire, England. I was the son of John and Isabella Banks Schofield. When I was a lad of six my father died on August 14, 1854. This was a sad experience for me. Shortly after this our family moved to Quarry St. so that my mother and sister, Ann, would be closer to their work.
When I was eight years of age my time was divided between school and work in the factory, half a day at each place. At the age of thirteen I was employed full time in the factory (at Ducking Field) Platts New Mills.
I was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1861 when I was thirteen years old. A branch of the Church was going quite well for a year, but the branch broke up in 1862. Our family then went to the Ashton Under-Lyne Branch of the Church at Lancashire. The spirit of gathering was growing upon our family, and it was in 1864 that our dreams were able to be realized. We prayed earnestly for the way to be opened up we could get money for the voyage.
Mother owned property at Higley which she sold to Aunt Maria for sufficient means for us to come to the United States. We sailed from Liverpool on 21 May 1864, on General McClellan's clipper ship. There were eight hundred and two Saints on board. We were fortunate indeed to have no deaths while crossing the ocean.
It was June 23, 1864, when we landed in New York. We took a steam boat up the Hudson River to Albany, then the train to Buffalo. The train ran on a ferry boat across the Niagara into Canada, then west and south to Detroit, Michigan. Here we rode in boxcars to Chicago, Illinois. From there to St. Joseph, Missouri, we had good coaches. At Quincy, Illinois, the track was torn up by Southern soldiers, it being at the time of the Civil War. There was some delay in reaching St. Joseph, where we took a steamboat up the Missouri River to Wyoming, Nebraska, a little below Omaha.
We crossed the plains with ox teams, three or four yoke to a wagon. Captain Joseph S. Rawlins was our leader, and there were sixty-two wagons. There was quite a lot of sickness on the road, but our family was well, although I walked the entire distance across the plains.
We reached Salt Lake City in early October. Henry Bradshaw took us to Slaterville where we stayed with Thomas Bradshaw a few days. I stayed the winter with him and did his chores.
Those days all members had to renew their covenants when they emigrated. We were all baptized in Mill Creek in late November. The water was almost frozen over. During March and part of April, I worked for John Knight. Then I herded cattle all summer for Henry Holyoak and Field Brothers, Mr. Smoot, and William Garner.
I was crossing a pole bridge when an old cow with a young calf ripped my clothes up to my breast and tore the skin pretty deep in places.
In the fall I made up my mind to go down South. We were very well treated in Slaterville and was not overjoyed at leaving there; but having relatives and many of our old friends located in Beaver and Parowan, we thought it would be more like home in that part, so we made the move in the fall of 1865, with the Price family, by ox team, driving cows and sheep. I drove two ox cattle and traveled on the main road to the Point of the Mountain, then crossed over the Jordan River and traveled on the west side of Utah Lake to the junction. At the junction we turned east on the main road. We had fine weather down south all fall. We stopped at J.P. Anderson's, at what we called Jackson County, just south of Beaver.
I worked for James Anderson, plowed and hauled wood for my board. In the spring I worked with his crops while he went over on the Sevier River at Fort Sanford to keep the Indians back from raiding on the towns, as they were bad at that time. It was the time of the Black Hawk War. I stayed there the following winter and did odd jobs.
While working for Anderson, in the herd of cattle was a big yellow long-horned ox. He was a vicious fellow. Not knowing this, I slipped down over the pole fence and into the corral. He came at me, getting me between his horns. I had to grab his horns and slip first one way and then the other until some of the men got him away.
I undertook the task of breaking an eight-year-old mare while at the Co-op herd. She was gentle; after being out with her a week I started home on her and got halfway between North Creek and Beaver. She stopped and refused to go. In urging her to go, she started bucking. The saddle turned, she kicked me several times, the cinch broke, and that is what saved me.
My brother Joseph herded sheep for the little settlement of Beaver while I was working for Mr. Anderson, and in the summer time herded at Buck-horn.
The following spring Joseph and I herded sheep for William Black, one of the Beaver Co-op herds. We herded in Wild Cat Canyon and Indian Creek Bottoms. In the late fall we moved the herd to Pine Creek. Had to wait there until the snow came to go on the desert as we had no water on the desert. When snow came, we moved out over the desert five or six miles from Pine Creek, our first camp.
Joseph left camp in the forenoon of January 22, 1868, to meet the mail to get clothes. It was nice weather when he left, but the mail was late, and in returning, a blizzard came up. The snow was two and a half feet deep. I kept fires all night hoping to attract his attention. I then started out in search of him and late in the day I found him so badly frozen that he was unable to walk. The poor boy had stopped during the night in sight of an encamped wagon train but was unable to make himself heard. The train moved off in the morning without knowing about his piight.
On finding him, I tried to carry him to camp, but the frozen man became so delirious and fought so desperately that the attempt had to be abandoned. Covering him with his coat, I then hastened to Cove Creek Fort, five miles away for help. Ira Hinckley immediately sent men with a team to the rescue. They arrived too late to afford any help—the poor boy was dead, January 23, 1868. He was seventeen years old when this happened, being born 18 July 1851.
I herded sheep three years, then rode for Beaver Co-op Cattle Co. for two years. I was camped in Fremont Pass riding for Co-op Cattle herd when I received an invitation from my "girl" Jane Elizabeth Robinson (of Paragonah) to attend a May Day Spree. Charles L. Flake and I rode in the night to Red Creek. The spree was to be at Little Creek Canyon. When I got there, a new baby girl (Eliza) had arrived at the Robinson home. So my girl could not go, and I was cheated out of the fun. However, we went to the dance that night.
That fall I quit working for Mr. Flake and bought a four-mule team and started to freight out to the mines west of Pioche, Nevada. After running the freight line for over a year, I sold the big mules and heavy wagon and bought a house and lot which I later sold to Thomas Robinson.
John Robinson, Jim Dunton, and myself formed a partnership and took up Buckskin Valley. We got some cows on shares from Richard Benson and James Lowe. In between times I drove stage for Major Lowe from then on.
I worked on the Manti Temple one fall and the first part of winter. Camped with Dave Edwards, George Robb, Silas Smith, Jr., and Levi Hunt. Then we went up through San Pete County and visited old friends, getting home a few days before Christmas. I also helped with the St. George Temple; I worked on the Gunnison road and I drove cattle for Smith's to the San Luis Valley.
(The remainder of this history is given in the third person about Hyrum Schofield as his daughter wrote it.)
Hyrum B. Schofield was ordained an elder on the 6th of February 1879 by William E. Jones. He was married to Jane Elizabeth Robinson, daughter of John Rowlandson and Jane Coupe Robinson. This marriage took place in the St. George Temple on 13 February 1879. While living in Paragonah, their first child was born, Jane, on 18 January 1880. Isabell arrived on August 17, 1882, also in Paragonah.
In the spring of 1883 the Church Authorities made a call to the people in Iron County to go out into Colorado and help settle Manassa. The trip was made in a covered wagon and was long and hard indeed. They stopped on the San Juan River at Bluff City for a short rest and a visit with friends and relatives who had left Paragonah and come down through the "Hole-in-the-Rock" in 1880. These pioneers arrived at the new settlement of Manassa on 28 July 1883. Hyrum and Jane immediately set to work to establish themselves in this locality. Hyrum built a log house for his family and acquired some farming land. Later on, with what means the family could accumulate, they purchased the land known as the "lower ranch." There were more cobble rocks than good soil on this property and much time was spent clearing the rocks away.
The first good crop of grain was heavy and in the shock when a terrible hailstorm hit and thrashed out the biggest percentage of it. Through the years he had good crops and of course some back luck, but he eventually accumulated more land and some cattle, branching out into New Mexico for summer grazing, where his older boys took up homesteads.
Father retained the lower ranch and passed it on to Lucille since she took care of both parents until their earth life was finished.
He worked in the Co-op Store in the early days. He also freighted from Alamosa by team, taking two days for the trip. He was a good worker and helped till the soil as long as he was able to work. He was very faithful to all his Church work, always being present to take care of his duties. He was superintendent of the Sunday School for sixteen years He was always a promoter of civic improvements in Manassa, acting as mayor of the town for several years.
He was a kind, considerate husband, a patient father, and good neighbor. He was parted from his loving companion, Jane, who died 1 April 1924, in Manassa. Lucille cared for her father until his death, 1 April 1933, in Manassa. He was lovingly laid to rest beside his wife in the Manassa cemetery. At the time of his passing he had thirty-six grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. His eight children who survived him were all present at the funeral with the exception of Mrs. Sadie Holyoak, who was unable to get there from her home in Moab, Utah.
(Note: Lula R. Bastian says that her Uncle Hyrum was a real English gentleman. His shoes were always polished and he would even take his pocket handkerchief to wipe the dust off them.
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