On Grandfather’s 100th Birthday
September 11, 1945

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Story of Grandmother Bartholomew finding source of name as told by Mary B. Stewart

Story of death of Grandfather’s younger brother William

Notes taken by Edythe C. Robbins on Ancestors

Six children gathered at the old homestead, Roxie, Sarah, Alma, Julia, Mary and Henry. Rose was absent.

Program: Alma president, Mary secretary

From Aunt Mary B. Stewart – relating story heard from Polly Benson Bartholomew.

Grandmother said that in all her experiences and trials as pioneers, with the Indians and hardships they went through in crossing the plains, nothing left them with such a terrible feeling as did the news of the Prophet and Hyrum’s martyrdom. She said, “Besides the awful void in losing our beloved leaders, we felt the mob would never cease until they had killed us all.”
Grandmother was close to the prophet and Hyrum. Hyrum gave Grandmother Bartholomew a Patriarchal Blessing in which he promised her that she would live as long as she desired if she would faithfully keep the Word of wisdom. Grandmother told Aunt Mary the very last time she talked to her, which was a few months before she died, that that blessing had been literally fulfilled. She was then almost 98 years of age.


Story of Grandmother Bartholomew finding source of name as told by Mary B. Stewart

At the time mother and father were married in the Endowment House in Salt Lake city, Sister Eliza R. Snow was in charge of the women at the services that day. She pointed to mother asking her to come to assist her, and when mother came to Sister Snow, the latter asked her name. Mother said, Eliza R. Metcalf. Sister Snow asked what the R. in her name stood for. Mother said she did not know as she was named for Eliza R. Snow. Sister snow replied, “How strange that I should call on my namesake to assist me in this important work today. Your name is Eliza Roxie. From that time on Mother and Sister Snow were very close friends. Whenever Sister Snow came through Fayette on her way to attend conferences, she always stopped, even going out of her way to see mother. Mother told us when we were small that one time when Sister Snow was there that she took hold of Sister Snow’s shoulder and smiling said, “This is the good lady after whom I was named. “I will never forget it.” Mother kept an enlarge photograph of Eliza R. Snow hanging permanently in her bedroom. Sister Snow was a very kind, patient lady. At one visit to our home, she blessed and named my brother Joseph to whom she gave the name of Joseph Smith Bartholomew, after which father gave him the father’s blessing. She was not a tall woman, inclined to plumpness, very attractive, vital, and dynamic. I remember so much about the little black lace bonnet she used to wear, beautiful, all filled just around her head, a frilly sort of cap that went around her head. She was not always dressed in black.

Story of death of Grandfather’s younger brother William

Father, with his younger brothers, Joseph and William were coming home from the canyon with logs. (Not sure of the canyon) They came to a large stream of water that had to be crossed. Father was impressed that they should not go that way. There was another possible route, however, his brother Joseph would not listen, but was determined to cross the stream against his older brother’s premonition. The wagons got stuck and had to be unloaded. As William took the guns off the wagon, one of them fell and discharged a bullet striking him, killing him dead.
Father said that when he took the news to his mother, he opened the door and fell grieving to the floor. Grandmother said, “The Indians have killed all my sons but you.”

Father was often impressed to do certain things or to change his plans to do other things. He made it a habit to act upon those impressions. They guided his life.
One time Father was in the canyon. My brothers Joseph and Alma were with him. They had made their bed under a large old tree and were sound asleep when Father was awakened by someone telling him to get up and move his bed. He was tired and sleepy and paid little attention to the voice of warning, when someone taking hold of his arms, lifted him to a sitting position and repeated the warning. Father rose from the bed and pulled the bed, with the boys still sleeping in it the distance of about 100 yards away. He hadn’t yet let go of the bed, when the tree, under which they had been sleeping, uprooted and fell across the place where the bed had been.

The little settlement of Fayette had lost several cows and horses. The Indians had driven them away. The men of the village held a council and decided to go horseback to try to find the missing animals. At this particular time the Indians were very hostile toward the settlers.
There were two routes they might take, one leading them into the river bottoms and the other going over the bench through Sevier County. In the council they decided to take the bench road. Before coming to the division of roads, Father was very much impressed that they shouldn’t take the back road. This disgruntled some of the men, because of the proposed change to their plans. Anyway they finally consented to take the road that led into the river bottoms. There they found the cattle and horses in a group and drove them back home, without incident.
It wasn’t long before they learned that a man had been killed on the bench road about the same time they would have been at that particular spot had they not heeded the warning. There is no telling what might have happened to them and they would not have found the stock.


Father had a sense of humor and used it on many occasions. We were never allowed to talk of other people’s faults or failings. His retort was “What do you know good about that person.” If we didn’t seem to recall anything readily, he soon mentioned something good. We were always expected to be at Church. This wasn’t a hardship for we went in a group, mother too. In those days there were very few places to go for either entertainment or work. However, most of our entertainment was centered in the home.
They put on many plays in the ward. Father was usually in them and did most of his practicing home which was very entertaining to us children. I remember once that we had a great big wooden box. Father’s part in the play was that he had to hide in something. I never will forget it, “We all went over to peek in to see how he was situated in this box. We could see nothing of father from above, but there he was huddled in the bottom.


My son Mitchell had run away (I always knew where he hid) so I dashed over to Mother’s hurriedly to have him come to his evening meal. I saw father down in the yard, so that’s where I went. I asked him if he had seen Mitch. He had quickly hidden him behind a box as he saw me coming. I asked, “Have you seen Mitch?” He looked all around and answered, “I don’t see him now.” This replay caused Mother to laugh, so of course I knew where he was. I stopped to talk to Father a few minutes then took Mitch and started for home. On the way we met Mother at the south gate. She went immediately to the yard to feed her chickens. She found Father lying on the ground and called for the boys, Henry and his cousin Jess, to come quickly. They carried Father to the house. He was dead by the time they reached the house.


Notes taken by Edythe C. Robbins on Ancestors

Aunt Elsie

She said she always looked out for Andrew. He wasn’t selfish; he was ambitious. He wanted to reach the very top.

The family lived at Manti, then Mayfield, and then Gunnison. When she was a little child, her father herded sheep. Aunt Elsie took lunch to him every day.

Andrew, Albert, and Elsie batched it at Provo in the old Monson Home. Mrs. Capson cooked for them. After that it seems they shifted for themselves. Mother C. shipped large boxes of food---chicken, bread, and cakes (like sweet rolls) for them.

She knew that she had a mother that wanted her to be somebody, to amount to something. She gave them every opportunity.

Uncle Henry

The Apostle Wilford Woodruff was sleeping upstairs in the south room when a runner came to say that President John Taylor had passed away and that it was requested that he come back post haste to Salt Lake.

At the time of father’s death, I was hauling hay and I’d been out for a load. Wilford Reese was teaching school and staying with us. When I came in with the load of hay, father was lying on the ground. (He had been leading a horse while we put the hay in the barn.) When he was lying on the ground by the hydrant. I talked to him. He said, “I tried to fix the hay, I got too sick and couldn’t do it.” I called to Wilford Reese. He came down from the house. The outhouse was right there. He said, “I need to sit on the toilet.” Wilford and I picked him up and sat him on the toilet. When he was through, Will and I picked him up and carried him up to the house. We laid him on the couch, he gasped a time or two and was gone. Mother prepared the couch with pillows etc. for him to lie on.

We had a lot of things in common. He took me ward teaching when I was a deacon. He did a lot of ward teaching. Father always prayed in the homes that he visited. And you know that is a practice that I have followed in all of my ward teaching, having prayer in the homes. I think that is one of the main reasons; I’ve liked to do this, because he set us this example. He always said, “You can’t do the Lord’s work without taking Him in partnership with you.”

Father spoke some Indian, I don’t know how much. During the Black Hawk War, he went with a group of men to Grass Valley. When they got there, Grandfather Joseph B. broke ranks and chased an Indian down to the swamps. He said, “ I would have shot that Indian. I was surely glad that my horse got mired in the swamp and I didn’t have to shoot him.” They had divided their troupes. Grandfather---The Indian yelled out, expecting to be shop any time. With the miring of his horse he was spared killing this Indian. Talked of it years afterward.

Father and Mother always fed the Indians giving them beef and other supplies.
One time Grandfather John was gone and the Indians came to the Bishop and demanded feed for their horses. Grandmother Eliza was sick. Grandmother Mary Waslin was there. She went down to get the feed for the horses. Grandmother was scared to death of the Indians. The Indian of course, recognized this and he followed her down with a knife in her back. Other Indians were there watching as he was showing off. As Grandmother was going along she spotted this stick (a willow). Quick as a flash she stopped to pick up the stick and whaled him good. He jumped over the fence. The other Indians just hooted and howled. But he got in the wagon and didn’t come back.

Grandmother Eliza was 13 years old when she came to Warm Springs. Grandfather Metcalf (a millwright, trained in England) was called to settle here. When he first came he didn’t bring his whole family, but just the 13-year-old Eliza. She had known the Bartholomew’s from Springville. As they came into Warm Springs, the 13-year-old girl stood up and said, “Well, where are the houses?” They did see some smoke coming from the riverbanks. Her father said, “Those, Eliza, are the houses. “They were just dugouts along the bank. The Joseph Bartholomews and Mellors, James Sr., were there. These latter two families came together.

Grandmother Mary was given a cabbage while visiting at Gunnison. Cabbages were hardly in season in Fayette. Grandfather John Metcalf had come from the Mill. He had been having trouble with it and was rather upset. He didn’t say anything to them, but they recognized the mood. They had cooked this cabbage whole for dinner. Seated at the table Grandmother Metcalf cut the cabbage in two and slid one half onto his plate. Mary and Eliza (mother and daughter) were tickled at the way this was done. He was rather stern and didn’t allow any laughing at the table. Grandmother Mary excused herself to pour the water or something. Eliza decided she would have to go out to laugh out loud. When they came back, the other half of the cabbage was gone. They had had their mouths all set for some of that cabbage.

Aunt Roxie told about the death of little Willie. He was ill with what they called Membranous Croup (really diphtheria). John (eldest child) was very ill. William was not even sick when John was so bad. They had called Brother John Mellor to come to bless John Bartholomew. He blessed John. As he went to leave, he said, “John will be alright,” but turning toward the little boy, he said, “but I don’t know about Willie.” The next day Willie became ill and died.

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