JONATHAN HOOPES’ TRIP TO MONTANA
I have always wanted to know the story behind my great, great grandfather, Jonathan Hoopes, Jr.’s, move from Idaho, actually Wyoming, to Arizona. In the book, The Hoopes Family Record[1], which I found relatively late in life, are three short paragraphs[2] “There is another tradition in the family that Jonathan, as a freighter, was often called upon by the leaders of the Mormon Church to transport the Church’s general authorities across the border to Mexico whenever they were being pursued and sought for practicing polygamy.” which tell more of the tradition than I ever heard from either my father or grandfather Hoopes[3]. They would never expound, and so I don’t know if they really knew more or not. After moving in 1999 to Soda Springs, Idaho, only 26 miles west of where Jonathan lived and where four of his eleven children with Mary Ann were born, including my great grandfather, George Arthur in 1867, I have learned more about the area and what it was like during the time that Jonathan lived here. I enjoy historical research and have written this otherwise fictitious story to include the things I have learned in my research. The footnotes reveal my sources and additional information. My hope is that this story will help you, the reader, think more about and better appreciate our rich and interesting heritage. As more information comes to light through research, or what people who read this draft tell me, I will be happy to re-write this story to make it more accurate. Sometime in the hereafter, when I have the privilege of meeting Jonathan, he might set me straight. I look forward to meeting him and knowing the “real story,” as I am sure it is much more interesting than anything I could invent.
fat magpie[4] flew from the rut in front of the team just as Jonathan realized he would not make Ft. Lemhi[5] before dark. He would spend the night camped by the side of the road, something he was certainly prepared for, but preferred not to do.
After a long, dry summer, it was getting darker a little earlier and he could feel fall in the wind, blowing from the west across miles of black volcanic rock and sage brush[6] he knew only so well.
Jonathan kept driving his team, looking for a place with a little windbreak, some brush with which he could conveniently build a fire, and, he hoped, had some fresh water. There were two large wooden water barrels sloshing in the rear of the big wagon, but he knew the horses would prefer to drink from a stream. He saw some willows in the distance, and that usually meant water.
The sun was setting behind the Lemhi range[7] to the west as he came closer to the willow trees he had seen from a distance. There was water, and firewood too. Jonathan could, in his mind, already taste the hot biscuits he would make for his supper that night.
Jonathan jumped off the wagon, walked over to a huge sage brush and relieved himself while looking over at his team of six horses. They were a good team and pulled together like true friends, which they were. Then he commenced taking care of his horses, calling them each by name as he unharnessed them and led them down to the water.
After hobbling the horses and giving them some grain in their feed bags, Jonathan set to work building a fire, before it was too dark. He had a coal oil lantern in the back of the wagon, but he didn’t want to use it if he didn’t need to. Coal oil was hard to come by in these parts, and he wanted to save it.
A fire was soon burning–not too large to attract trouble, but substantial enough to cook his supper and give him some light before bedding down for the night.
Jonathan took the flour sack from its place in the wagon. With a big spoonfull of lard from the metal bucket and some sourdough[8] from the can, he made the dough in the top of the flour sack[9] and patted out some biscuits, laying them in the bottom of the Dutch oven, which was now hot. In another oven he spread the bacon, cut with his jackknife from the pork side Mary Ann had wrapped in another flour sack. He could taste the ‘lumpy dick’ already.
While the bacon was cooking, Jonathan dipped some water from the barrel into the coffee pot and placed it on the side of the fire where the smoke wasn’t. In the hot water he would steep some twigs and leaves he had cut from a desert bush earlier in the afternoon. Mary Ann had even sent sugar, and he knew the tea would taste good.[10]
Removing his sweat-stained Stetson[11], Jonathan bowed his head and gave thanks for his blessings. As he cooked and ate his supper he started rehearsing, in his mind, all of his blessings. His was a good life.
He thought of his parents,[12] faithful Mormons who occasionally slipped into the thee and thou of their Quaker up-bringings. His sweet mother had been laid to rest in the cemetery on the side of the hill in Mendon,[13] where his father, his namesake, was also laid to rest after living with his older sister, Sarah[14].
Jonathan thought how Sarah had taken good care of the old man, allowing him to do what he liked to do–set stones. Jonathan, Sr., a master stone mason[15], at the age of 89, was intent on building walls for the new creamery on their dairy, but death came before he finished. Jonathan wondered why his father had given him his name, instead of an older brother. Jonathan was a junior, the youngest of twelve children, including seven brothers. Yet how he liked the sound of that name along with the old English name Hoopes, although it was often misspelled and pronounced in different ways.
Then Jonathan’s thoughts turned to the love of his life, Mary Ann,[16] who he could clearly see with a wooden spoon in her hand checking the beets pickling in the big crock on the porch of their new place at Lonetree.[17] Southern Wyoming had been a good place, warmer than where they had lived in Idaho[18]. He could grow anything, although he didn’t consider himself to be a farmer. What Jonathan loved was raising, training, and trading horses[19].
Jonathan thought of his children, all eleven of them, going from newlywed Ann Eliza to baby Seth.[20] They would be finishing up their evening chores about now. Even the little boys had their jobs. Everyone worked; no one in Jonathan’s house was a slacker.
How Jonathan missed his family at times like these. Making a living as a freighter was hard, but it had been a good life, most of the time. If he could get this load up to Bannack[21] and sell the contents of the big wagon at what he thought it should bring, he would have money to buy special things at Pocatello[22] on the way home. He knew Mary Ann wanted a bolt of factory,[23] she need a narrower flat iron, and there would be licorice and hard candy for the children.
Night had fallen, the fire was mostly coals, and the tea warmed his belly as he sat up against his bedroll. More time to think before sleep would overtake him. His mind turned to the freighting trip he started three days earlier.
Jonathan had stopped off at Bennington, seeing friends to whom he had sold his farm there and then that night Jonathan stayed with his old friend, Nick Wilson,[24] at Soda Springs.
Nick had been called as the bishop of the Mormon church there and was debating taking a plural wife, being encouraged on by Presiding Bishop Maughan from Franklin.[25] Jonathan wondered what it would be like to take plural wife, younger than the first. How would the first one really feel, how could he satisfy both wives and how could he keep the US Marshals away? Prison for the bread-winner would be so hard on the families, even though the Church members would help as best they could.
Jonathan enjoyed being with Nick. They talked long into the night, telling stories and reliving past adventures. They reminisced about catching the cattle rustlers[26] and how Apostle Rich[27] had praised them, perhaps more than they deserved, in a talk he gave at conference at Paris.[28] Those were good times.
Jonathan was a slave to duty, and no one could say he didn’t do more than his share, whether it was helping a neighbor build a stone wall or serving on a posse. Apostle Rich said he “wanted the best men to be had from each town[29]” and that is what he got in Jonathan and Nick.
Jonathan thought perhaps he should write down his version of the posse story so it could be passed on to future generations. But his children didn’t care much about history, and besides, and it was dark except for the light from the moon.
Jonathan’s breathing slowed, and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He moved over, spread out his bedroll, took off his hat and wrapped himself in the old woolen Battalion blankets he got at Ft. Bridger.[30] Of course, they had a story too, and he was thankful for them.
At the peep-‘o-dawn[31], Jonathan’s eyes opened and he heard the horses conversing with each other over by the willows. It was time to get up and start the day. His goal was to make Ft. Lemhi by noon, do some trading, and head towards his ultimate destination in Montana.
Ft. Lemhi was a busy place. The Indians who lived near there with Brother Shadrack Jones and the other Mormon missionaries,[32] were friendly and could tell Jonathan about any problems he might encounter with their cousins to the north. Jonathan didn’t expect any Indian trouble. He suspected the Indians were out on a buffalo hunting party[33] and wouldn’t care about a lone Mormon hauling freight to a mining town. If any Indians stopped him, Jonathan had extra flour, corn and some tobacco to give them. He knew well that following Brother Brigham’s admonition, ‘better to feed the Indians than fight them,[34] was the best way to deal with these Lamanites.
Reaching the fort, Jonathan tied up his team, was welcomed into the trading post and was queried about his trip. When he mentioned that he had stayed with the Wilsons in Soda Springs, ears perked up and everyone wanted to know how Nick was doing. An old squaw, who Jonathan thought was sleeping while leaning against a log pillar, opened her eyes and said in a croaking voice, “Nick good Indian,” and everyone knew what she meant.
His business done in the trading post, Jonathan went out to the Indian tepees to find a brave who could tell him about the road to Bannack. Dodging mostly naked papooses begging for hard candy, which he had and gave them, and making his way through the smoke from fires drying planked salmon, Jonathan found a young brave sharpening his hunting knife.
Jonathan, who was adept at communicating with Indians, inquired about the road to Bannack. After a while, the brave said: “no bad Indians, no snow.” These were the words Jonathan was hoping to hear. He gave the brave a plug of tobacco and bade him farewell.
On the road again, there were places where the black volcanic rock made driving the team very difficult. The fellies[35] on the wooden wheels made a lot of noise as they rolled over the porous rocks. Two nights camping out alone, and not a sight of Indians. Jonathan got into a good bunch of sage hens and with the assistance of his old rifle, he soon had several he would eat for supper.
Jonathan met a party of white folks going south on the second day, who said they had seen no Indians. He gave them some sage hens and they gave him four eggs from the chickens they had caged in the back of their wagon. These people were Mormons from Utah County and were returning there, a break from their mission to bring back family and provisions, hoping to get down and back before the snows came.
Crossing over Lemhi pass, Jonathan knew he was out of Idaho and was now in Montana territory. A “wanted” sign and two election posters were nailed to a tree near a river crossing. The posters listed the name of the Montana territorial capital at Bannack, which was his destination. He knew, from talking with the Lemhi brave that he could be at Bannack in one hard day. He hoped to arrive in time to deliver his goods, have a bath, and good night’s rest in a bed, and turn around and go back home.
The country was more wooded than where he was from, and he was seeing more deer, elk and even a moose now and then. Sage hens, which he had been killing for food along the way, were not as plentiful in this country, but he did find rabbits.
Jonathan began seeing more people on the road, and even a friendly extended family of Indians camped by the bench as he approached Bannack. How he wished he could have been able to bring a son or two for company. But they were all needed by Mary Ann. There was much work to do to feed and clothe a large family.
The team could sense Jonathan’s urgency; they also wanted to get to town, knowing there would be grain in the feed bag[36] at the livery station. The road was better now, not as many rocks and so he made good time.
Reaching the mining town of Bannack, Jonathan pulled his big wagon into the middle of town, asking if Mr. Vukesevich, the mine’s quartermaster, was around. A boy about the age of George, who was leading a puppy with a rope around its neck, said he saw Vukes go into the saloon at the Hotel Meade.[37] Jonathan knew the hotel, he had been there before. It was the place where the business in town was conducted, and where he also wanted to stay.
Tying his team up at the hitching post in front of the hotel, Jonathan washed his dusty face in the bucket by the pump, drying it with his bandana. He pushed his black hair back with his fingers, dried at his beard and made sure his boots were cleaned off before entering the saloon through the wide, swinging doors. He didn’t, at first, see Vukesvich, but upon asking the proprietor, learned Vukes had gone out to the privy and should be back soon.
Vukes came in with a big smile on his face. He greeted Jonathan, having seen his wagon and team outside. Vukes ordered the proprietor to put whatever Jonathan wanted on the company tab, and the two men sat down together at the corner table, reserved for business deals.
It didn’t take long for Jonathan to do his business. The goods were there and in fine shape, and all that was left was for Jonathan to deliver them to the mill site. Vukesvich assured him there would be men to help him unload the wagon. They shook hands and Jonathan left to find his team impatiently waiting. Unloading the wagon was quickly accomplished by the four Chinamen at the mill, and just as the sun was setting on another day.
Jonathan drove the team back into town, took the horses to the stable and asked the stable hand to make sure the team got good care and feeding. Jonathan said he would be back in the morning pay up before heading south.
Back at the Meade, Jonathan rented a room, went over to the barber shop and had a haircut he badly needed. His dark hair was thinning on top, and Mary Ann had been doing a good job keeping it trim, but Jonathan liked to have a barber cut his cut when he could. He liked to look his best.
On the way back over to the hotel, Jonathan saw black storm clouds approaching from the west, even though it was almost dark, and the wind was beginning to howl. He buttoned up his coat. The horses taken care of, Jonathan returned to his room, called for heated water and proceeded to take a much needed bath. It wasn’t even Saturday, but how good the hot water would feel. He also began to think about supper, remembering he had overheard that the fare, served family style, was fresh calves’ liver, cooked with onions and accompanied by fried potatoes. This was a favorite; Jonathan’s mouth was already watering.
Supper tasted as good has he had expected. There were nine men in the dining room for board that night, two locals and seven from out of town. The local men were undoubtedly there to spend the evening, and they hoped the night, with the two women who were serving. Talk was that they had just moved to Bannack from North Dakota. Jonathan suspected they were probably Norwegian immigrants, out west to seek their fortunes. How he disliked this way of using women, especially naive foreigners.
At supper, Jonathan was seated opposite two men who had come from California. One greasy haired man had a scar on his neck; the other was a small, olive skinned man with shifty eyes. They were bragging about how well they had done in the California gold fields. Jonathan wondered if it were so good there, why had they come all the way to Montana.
These men seemed to want to talk with Jonathan. They were pumping him for information about mining in Idaho and Wyoming, and whether Pocatello and his band had been tamed. Jonathan told them that Pocatello was an old man, living peacefully as a farmer on the Ft. Hall reservation north of the railroad town at Pocatello junction[38].
After supper, the men went to the porch to smoke their pipes and continue their dinner conversations. Jonathan was enjoying the talk. It was interesting to get news from other parts of the country. However, he could hear the wind outside and feel the frigid air, and he began to grow a little anxious about getting home.
The conversations were breaking up and the two Californians asked Jonathan to join them in a friendly game of poker. Wanting now to hear more about their California exploits, he agreed, knowing he could hold his own in a game of cards. Jonathan didn’t play often, but he enjoyed a good game and seemed to be able to outsmart his opponents by letting them do the talking, while he watched for trick cards. He was told he had a natural “poker face,” something perhaps from his Quaker heritage. The games went well for Jonathan. He enjoyed the evening, coming out with a lot more gold than he started with. They parted and went to their rooms upstairs for the night. The wind was picking up again, a snow storm had come in.
Next morning, as Jonathan looked out the window, he saw new fallen snow, and more was coming down, fast. By the time he had consumed a Montana breakfast of steak, eggs and biscuits, more flakes had fallen, and it was snowing even harder. He couldn’t even see across the street, let alone make out the steeple on the Methodist church. Talk at the boarding table was that no one would be going any where today. This was, for sure and according to the locals, a freak snow storm, too early in the season for it to stay on the ground long. As much as he wanted to head south, Jonathan knew it would be best to stay put, at least until it stopped snowing.
Jonathan braved the storm to check on his team of horses, and let the stable boy know he probably wouldn’t be leaving until it stopped snowing. The animals were enjoying being pampered, and another day would give time for the wound on old Jake’s lower front leg to heal. Jonathan had been applying tobacco poultices to the wound, and it was healing well.
Back at the hotel, Jonathan spent the day with the other stranded out-of-towners. He played cards, stopping for a noontime meal of rabbit brought in and traded by friendly Indians. The rabbit was cooked with some spice that came from the garden of the Chinese cook. Not really familiar with foreign spices, Jonathan enjoyed tasting familiar things cooked differently, and this was a treat.
After dinner and a nap, Jonathan went back down for more cards. There wasn’t much of anything else to do. Even though it was early afternoon, it was so dark outside the lanterns had been lit and the swinging doors to the saloon had been shuttered over. Exit and entrance to the hotel was through the door on the east side, from the kitchen.
Supper was taken leisurely. The beef steaks were slow in cooking because drafts kept putting the fire out in the large cook stove. Even though he was warm and comfortable, Jonathan continued to grow more anxious, and purposefully did not sit with the men from California. They seemed to be talking in hushed tones between themselves.
Adjourning to the porch was not possible tonight, it was too cold out there, so everyone stayed in the dining room. The smoke was pretty thick. After a while, the two men from California asked Jonathan to again join them in a game of poker. He hesitated, but wanted to get out of the smoky room, and they were telling everyone how good of a poker player he was, how much money he had won, but they were going to win it back. After being bragged up, it was difficult to say no to a game.
The short Californian went to the bar for more whiskey, coming over to the table with the entire bottle. Most of the other patrons had given up and went to bed as a way to escape the cold. There were only four men left in the room. A German immigrant, the Caifornians called the Dutchman, sat behind Jonathan and watched the game, helping himself to their bottle, which was, by now almost empty. This made Jonathan a little nervous. He instinctively reached down and felt his gun, just knowing it was there, and loaded, made him feel better. The lamps kept flickering, the wicks apparently hadn’t had their trimming. It was cold, and gusts of biting wind kept coming in from the kitchen door.
The two Californians were, by now, beyond feeling because of the whiskey they had consumed, and Jonathan was looking for a way to gracefully end the game and go up to bed. But he had been winning. In fact, he had a substantial amount of money on the table. He wondered what the Dutchman knew and what he was communicating saying to the Californians.
Suddenly, there was a big gust of wind. The Californians threw their cards on the table, the two closest lamps hanging over the tables on that side of the room went dark at the same time, and the Dutchman was hollering something in German that Jonathan didn’t understand. With a shattering of glass, the last lamp went out, followed by yelling and then volleys of gunshots.
In self-defense, Jonathan pulled his gun and shot it in the direction from which he saw fire from gun barrels. He didn’t know if he was hit or not, and he certainly didn’t know what was really going on.
Still in the dark, Jonathan, fearing the worst, groped for his money, headed upstairs for his room, and quickly locked the door, his hand trembling as he let the large skeleton key drop to in his pocket. He had no match with which to light the lamp, but the window in his room let in enough light reflected from the snow so he could see to pull his things together. He unlocked the door and headed down the stairs and out into the night. The main lights in the saloon were still out, people going and coming with much noise and commotion.
No one was apparently at the livery stable, maybe the boy who stayed there had heard the noise at the hotel. Jonathan’s horses were as he left them. He quickly harnessed and led them out to the wagon, which he had previously readied for the trip home. He again heard some yelling back at the hotel. Apparently two men were dead.
The snow had stopped coming down and the moon was shining on the snow. Jonathan didn’t want to be out in it, but he figured he had better get out of town. He didn’t really know what happened, but suspected the Californians and the Dutchman had something going on, and he had become, without his knowing it, a part of it. He certainly knew he didn’t intentionally shoot anyone.
Jonathan had never shot at any man, yet tonight he had shot his rifle into gunfire that was aimed at him. He had won a substantial amount of money, and probably everyone knew this. Was getting back their money that Jonathan had won fair and square their planned motive for the gunfight, or was it just the effects of whiskey and being holed up by the freak snow storm.
The landmarks were there, it was a bright night, and Jonathan pulled the blankets in his bed roll around him as a wind break. No one was following him, and his trail would be covered by the snow, even if someone thought to look for him. The horses seemed happy to be leaving too. They went hard all night long.
The pass wasn’t as snowy as Jonathan feared, and early the next morning the sun came out, melting the snow. Black volcanic rock didn’t make much mud, and Jonathan made good time, even though he had to rest the horses every few hours. He even tried to sleep, but couldn’t. Within a day Jonathan was back at Ft. Lemhi. The news from Bannack hadn’t reached there yet; he was the first traveler to come through from the north.
Jonathan confided to Brother Jones what had happened at Bannack. Jones told him to hurry home to his family and not worry, Bannack had a bad reputation. Years ago the Sheriff of Bannack had himself run afoul of the law and was hung by a vigilante gang[39] and the new sheriff was perhaps no better. Jones said that Jonathan, if he were “wanted,” would certainly not get a fair trial. The judge, who didn’t like Mormons, was probably out prospecting and would not do much. US Marshals were more interested in raiding Mormon poligs[40] down in Idaho than in prosecuting saloon brawls in Montana, even if the population of boot hill had increased by two.
Jonathan took some comfort in Brother Jones’ advice, and was on his way south early the next morning. The weather warmed up and the trip went fast. Jonathan decided to bypass Ft. Hall. He would stop at Montpelier, which, after he had moved away, had become a regular train stop, and he could buy the things he was planning to get at Ft. Hall. He would, however, time his trip to be able to stay with the Wilsons at Soda Springs.
Bishop Wilson was out thrashing wheat with two of his sons when Jonathan and his team approached. Nick recognized him and started waiving his hat, the boys wanting a reason to stop working. Young Charles Alma[41] loved to eves drop on his father, but Jonathan didn’t want to tell anyone but Nick what happened. Jonathan could see that Nick needed the grain worked, so Jonathan quickly turned his team out in the corral and started helping the bishop with the thrashing. They didn’t talk much, just worked hard until dark.
Sister Wilson had a good supper ready and welcomed Jonathan to her table. The younger boys had caught a mess of trout in the Bear River and there were new red potatoes and carrots[42] on the table. Her biscuits were light and fluffy, not exactly like those Jonathan made, and there was newly churned butter and huckleberry[43] jam. Fresh warm milk, all he wanted, was also a treat–Jonathan hadn’t had milk since he left home.
That night, after supper and out on the porch by themselves, Jonathan told Nick about the incidents in Montana. Nick, who had recently taken some horses to Bannack, knew the scenario well. After thinking quietly for a while, Nick urged Jonathan to quickly get back to his home in Wyoming, pack up and leave everything. He should go to Arizona Territory. Nick had heard from Church authorities that there was patent land available in the Gila Valley[44].
Nick even encouraged Jonathan to change his name to make it harder for him to be found. Nick knew that Jonathan was innocent of murder, although there had certainly been foul play and the sheriff or marshal would eventually want to prosecute someone. Jonathan didn’t have a plural wife, so the marshal couldn’t get him for that, but still, they didn’t like Mormons. After more private conversation, Bishop Wilson blessed Jonathan with wisdom and peace.
Taking Nick’s advice, Jonathan left at first light, stopping in Montpelier only long enough to get some supplies, and extra things they would need for the journey to where ever they would go.
What would Mary Ann think, how would the children react to another move, and what would Arizona Territory, if that is where they should go, be like? Would the two older children follow? Would he ever see them again? These are things that Jonathan thought about continually for the next day and night.
While sitting alone on the bumpy wagon seat, Jonathan began to think more about the realities of what had happened, and what he knew must happen. First, he could not see moving all the way to Arizona Territory right away, it was too late in the season and too far. He would do well to get back to Provo to be among brethren who could provide assistance. Surely, this freighting trip had been productive in one respect, he now had the means to migrate. His neighbor might even be willing to buy his place, as he knew Joshua Stanger wanted to own more land. Jonathan would approach Stanger upon his return home.
Jonathan found Montpelier disappointing, the rougher element that came from the railroad was now a dominating force.[45] He bought hard candy for his children and things needed for a move to a new land: heavy canvas to cover the wagon, new harnesses, boots, and a bigger water barrel. He even bought Mary Ann a fashionable hat for church, and shoes for the little boys. They had not before had shoes, but Jonathan knew they would need them on the trip, and for wearing in Provo. He didn’t want them to be embarrassed at not having shoes.
Leaving the Bear Lake Valley, looking back toward Bennington, Jonathan remembered the good times there, wondering if he would ever, in this life, return to Idaho and people like Nick Wilson and others to whom he had grown so close.
Mary Ann could immediately see in his eyes there was something different about Jonathan. After allowing him to spend time with the children and presenting them the candy they had been anticipating, Jonathan and Mary Ann went hand-in-hand, past the corral to the pasture to turn out the horses, and there under the tree, by themselves, they talked.
Jonathan told his wife about the incident, how in self-defense he shot his gun at what was shooting at him, and how in the confusion and darkness, he didn’t really know what happened. He feared that when the sheriff returned and tried to put the pieces together, there would not be enough evidence that Jonathan had acted in self-defense, and the sheriff or the marshal would be looking for him.
Jonathan and Mary Ann walked back to the barn, the sun had just set behind the hill. They knelt there together in the sweet smelling wheat straw and prayed for confirmation of the plan, and for peace.
Their neighbor, Brother Stanger, was excited about owning more property, and offered goods and provisions they would need, and some money over time that would help them buy a new place, perhaps a ranch where Jonathan could raise horses. The children actually looked forward to seeing their cousins in Utah and were eagerly anticipating pioneering in Arizona, although they didn’t tell anyone where they were going. They heard it never snowed there, and they weren’t looking forward to another winter in Wyoming.
Within a week’s time the big freighting wagon was skillfully packed with all their belongings. The new canvas cover was tightly stretched over the bows. The team was snorting their desire to go, the cow was tied to the wagon, the water barrels filled to the brim. The crocks and bottles Mary Ann and Mary had filled over the summer with vegetables and meat, were well packed in blankets to avoid breaking. Good-bye’s said, a final prayer, and the Hoopes’ were headed south for a new life.
Jonathan’s family stayed on the road, once a trail, that brought the first Mormon pioneers into the Salt Lake Valley. Jonathan and Mary Ann, remembering their first experiences on that trail before they were married, re-told their stories to the children. John, Caleb, George and Jesse were of great assistance. The weather was good and their trip was even somewhat pleasant.
Salt Lake City was a bustling city. They found a place to stay with Mary Ann’s sister. The Hoopes’ arrived in time to be able to attend general conference, where they enjoyed being with their old friends and relatives, as well as the spirit of the Saints. President Taylor, even though he was usually in hiding to escape the US Marshals, was active in calling men on foreign missions and families were leaving to settle new Mormon colonies. Jonathan listed intently for who may be called to Arizona Territory, hoping to find companies with which to travel south.
Jonathan and Mary Ann decided to stay in Provo for the winter. He would break horses and the children could attend school there. They had not had very good schools in Wyoming and this would be an opportunity for them to catch up on their book learning. Caleb, George and Jesse would enjoy going to school and being with people their own ages. John, who was a 19 year old man, would get a job.
Winter passed quickly. The trees were beginning to bud and the snow had melted from the valley floor. The Hoopes’ had acquired more tools and supplies, even a little Kimball pump organ, and were well outfitted for their journey to Arizona. They would be going south with a company of pioneers who were going to settle at Snowflake in northern Arizona.
Jonathan had learned more about Arizona during the winter in Provo. From stories told by aging Mormon Battalion soldiers, he knew that the San Pedro Valley, southwest of the Gila Valley, would be a good place to settle. This is where the Battalion’s only battle, with wild bulls, had been fought on the banks of the San Pedro River, whose waters oddly flowed from south to north. And with active mines in the area, at Tombstone and Bisbee, Jonathan would be able to supplement his ranching by hauling freight as he had done in Idaho and Wyoming.
Jonathan had also been party to discussions about moving Saints further south into Mexico, where polygamy was not against the law, and the people could live without threats from the US Marshals.
The appointed day came, and Jonathan’s family again said good-bye to family and friends. They were anxious to start their new life in Arizona. The trip was not easy, of course, but they were well prepared.
The most difficult part of the trip south was crossing the Colorado River. Lee’s Ferry was the preferred passage, and there was now a Mormon village there. The lowering of wagons and the ferry crossing, although difficult, had now been done successfully many times.
The Hoopes’ enjoyed the company of the families with whom they traveled, and, for a while even considered settling in Snowflake, where there was a thriving Mormon community. But the lure of the San Pedro, its closeness to Mexico, warmer weather and better growing conditions, lured them further southward.
Leaving their traveling companions from Utah behind, Jonathan’s family continued their journey alone. They still had the Mogollion Rim and Apache lands to cross, but, again, there were well-traveled trails and the experience of past pioneers to assure them.
It was while passing alone through mountainous country that Jonathan and Mary Ann decided to start introducing themselves as Jonathan and Mary Ann Hill, instead of Hoopes[46]. The children understood too, and this seemed like the right thing to do.
Over the Rim, then upon reaching the Gila, the family turned east. They first met White Mountain, then San Carlos Apaches. How different they were from the peaceful Shoshoni, Bannock and Lemhi Jonathan’s family had known in Idaho and Wyoming. None of these Indians had joined the Church, as so many Shoshoni had done. The white settlers were still anxious around Indians, Geronimo and his cutthroats were still on the loose.
Passing through the settlements at Eden, Pima and Thatcher, when the Hills reached the newer settlement of Safford they stopped for a while. Feeling they would be safe there, Jonathan left his family in Safford to scout out the San Pedro Valley.
Jonathan found that the people at St. David, a little Mormon town on the San Pedro, were friendly and eager to have a new family join with them. The new railroad station at Benson, only a few miles north, would provide opportunities to haul freight to the mining towns, and into Mexico.
With the money he had from selling his place in Wyoming, Jonathan acquired ranch land at a place called Horne Holler in the Macdonald Ward, not far from St. David. By late summer, Jonathan returned to Safford to bring the rest of his family to their new home.
Soon, the Hill Ranch, with Jonathan and Mary Ann as its proud owners, became part of the establishment. They assumed positions in the ward[47] and their children became friends with the Curtis, Horne and Matteson families, who also immigrated from Utah. John was becoming sweet on Mary Horne. Later, George started courting Dode Curtis’ oldest daughter, Charlotte Iris. They became the “most eligible” couple at the weekly St. David ward dances.
After establishing the Hill Ranch, Jonathan started using his freighting wagon and teams of horses to haul supplies from the train station at Benson to the mining towns of Tombstone, Bisbee, and Naco. Mary Ann even enjoyed going to Tombstone to have a Chinese meal at the CanCan[48].
Jonathan and Mary Ann also developed close friendships with Mormon families who lived the law of plural marriage, and who were moving into Mexico to escape the snares of the vengeful US Marshals.
St. David, an out of the way Mormon colony, was visited by high level Mormon leaders on their way to scout out Mexico. The President of the Church, John Taylor, with Apostles Joseph F. Smith, Erastus Snow, Brigham Young, Jr., Francis Lyman and Moses Thatcher (for whom Thatcher, Idaho and Thatcher, Arizona, were named) all came to St. David during January 1885.
Jonathan and Mary Ann were living near St. David when the “miracle” occurred during May of 1887. Some settlers had not been healthy, suffering from malaria caused by mosquitos which infested the marshy land near the San Pedro River. In fact, families had been talking about giving up their mission and returning to Utah.
In a special conference at St. David, Apostle Erastus Snow admonished the Saints to remain faithful and the Lord would make the country inhabitable in a miraculous way. After considerable fasting and prayer, something unexpected happened. There was a big earthquake. The walls of the adobe school building, where Mary was the teacher, collapsed, although the children were at recess and no one was injured. The people immediately thought they were truly doomed, things couldn’t get worse. However, in time the earthquake changed the course of the river, dried up the swamps, the mosquitoes left and the good health returned. It had indeed been a miracle.
The Church authorities asked Jonathan Hill, whose story they knew, to accompany the apostles as a body guard and guide into Mexico, to see if this would be a suitable place for more Mormon colonies. Jonathan willingly led them, and enjoyed being with the apostles. From them he learned more about the eternal doctrine of plural marriage, and gained a lasting testimony of its importance.
Jonathan met sixteen year old Arthusa Elmer in his 53rd year of life and with Mary Ann’s consent, they (Mary Ann went too) journeyed to the temple at St. George, along the “honeymoon trail”[49] to be married during 1888. Jonathan moved his new bride to the settlement called Juarez, in Chihuahua, Mexico, where their first child, Chloe, was born on October 2, 1889. Jonathan traveled between his two families and did not fear the marshals.
Some years later in St. David, Jonathan and Mary Ann were visiting with a new US Marshal. The marshal said he had come from Montana and was telling stories about how the town of Bannack had lynched its own sheriff.[50] This prompted Jonathan to ask about the incident at the Meade. The marshal, who was familiar with the incident, said the case had not been solved, but a certain Dutchman had been wanted for murder in California. Jonathan explained what he knew and, much to his relief, the marshal agreed that Jonathan acted in self-defense and that he was not a “wanted” man. This was a great relief to Jonathan and Mary Ann, as well as to Arthusa.
Appreciative of his rich Hoopes heritage, Jonathan immediately told everyone he knew that his name was really Hoopes...and they understood.
[1] “The Hoopes Family Record, a genealogical record of the Hoopes Family, descendants of Daniel Hoopes of Westtown, Chester County, Pennsylvania.” Volume I, the first six generations. Published by the Hoopes Family Organization, Inc., 1979.
[2] Ibid, pages 588-589:
“There is a tradition in the family that while living in Wyoming, he (Jonathan, Jr., ) was on a freighting trip to Montana, and while there won a substantial sum of money gambling with two men. As he left the game, the two men followed him to attack him and recover the money they had lost. A gunfight ensued, in which the two men were killed. As there were no witnesses to the gunfight, Jonathan returned to Wyoming, gathered up his family and moved to Safford, Arizona, where he changed his name to “Hill” and the ranch he established for his family in St. David, Arizona was known as the “Hill Ranch.”
“Eventually a US Marshal found him there and determined to his satisfaction that the two killings were committed in self-defense. Jonathan then changed his name back to Hoopes when he was satisfied that the US Marshal no longer “wanted” him. Jerry O. Hoopes (my father’s youngest brother) of Gilbert (now Thatcher, Arizona) a great-grandson of Jonathan, now has the gun which was used in the gunfight..”
[3] My father is Grover Lamro Hoopes, born March 13, 1920 at Thatcher, Graham County, Arizona to Grover Hoopes, born April 20, 1892 at St. David, Cochise County, Arizona and Nora Estelle Lamoreaux, born April 1, 1894 at Dingle, Bear Lake County, Idaho.
[4] A very common bird in Southeastern Idaho, magpies are relatively big birds with black, which is actually purple in bright sun, and white feathers. The early explorers, Lewis and Clark, found magpies and thought they were such interesting birds that they caught one and sent it to Thomas Jefferson, and he kept it at Monticello in Virginia.
[5] If Jonathan went from where he was living in Southern Wyoming to Montana, he undoubtedly followed the old immigrant trails, which led through Montpelier in Bear Lake County (he had lived at Bennington, which is three miles west of present day Montpelier), through Soda Springs, north to Ft. Hall, to Ft. Lemhi on the Salmon River, and then north to Montana.
[6] This accurately describes much of the country in that part of Idaho and Montana, through which I drove on my way to Sun Valley, Idaho, on October 5, 2001, going to a hospital convention. It was during the breaks and evenings at the convention that I read reference books and wrote this story.
[7] Some maps give different names to these mountain ranges. The name, Lemhi, was given to the area and the band of Shoshoni Indians by Mormon missionaries and is taken from Lemhi in the Book of Mormon. The famous Indian guide of Lewis and Clark, Sackajuea, was from this band of Indians. Jonathan would probably have know this area and the Indians as Lemhi.
[8] Sourdough was commonly used by pioneers and cowboys and was generally more easily obtained than baking powder, according to “The Cowboy Reader,” by Lon Tinkle and Allen Maxwell, Longman’s Green & Company, New York, 1958, 307 pages.
[9] From other histories, written by pioneers and cowboys, I have learned that mixing biscuits right in the top of the flour sack was not an uncommon practice.
[10] From other historical accounts, this would have been a typical meal while traveling.
[11] Stetson made the “ten gallon” felt hat, “Boss of the Plains” model since the 1860s and it was very commonly worn by men in Idaho. Whether Jonathan actually wore one, we don’t know, although we know, from pictures and other histories, that he certainly wore a large brimmed hat. He also wore a beard.
[12] His father, Jonathan Hoopes, Sr., was born of Quaker parents on Sept. 17, 1788 in Goshen, Chester County, Pennsylvania, and his mother, Rebecca Watts, was born Oct. 24, 1793 at Newberry, York County, Pennsylvania. Jonathan and Rebecca moved from Pennsylvania to Ohio when Jonathan was in his 50s, joined the Mormon Church, moved with the Church to Missouri and Nauvoo, and then crossed the plains to Utah, where they finally settled in Weston, which is west of Preston, Franklin County, Idaho.
[13] The little cemetery on the hillside at Mendon, Utah, is about six miles west of Logan, Cache Valley, Utah.
[14] Sarah Ann married John Pratt Kennedy Bird, and they are buried next to Jonathan and Rebecca, hence the possibility that Sarah cared for her 90 year old father after her mother died.
[15] Jonathan, Sr. was a stone mason by trade. Some family members believe he helped lay the stones for the Logan Temple, which can be clearly seen from his grave site. However, he died in 1868 and the temple wasn’t started until 1871. One or more of Jonathan’s older sons (Francis, John or Caleb) who may have known masonry, may have helped build the temple.
[16] Jonathan married Mary Ann Baldwin on July 28, 1856 in Provo, Utah. Jonathan was 21 at the time of their marriage and would have crossed the plains from Nauvoo as a single teenager. Mary Ann’s grandfather was Caleb Baldwin, a close personal friend of the Prophet Joseph Smith, and the only non-apostle to be incarcerated with Joseph at Liberty Jail. Caleb and his family was well known in Nauvoo and we would presume that Mary Ann’s family were also close personal friends with the early leaders of the Church.
[17] I don’t know for sure where they were living in Wyoming. Jonathan and Mary Ann’s last child, Seth, was born on July 11, 1879 at Lonetree, Uinta County, Wyoming. Their 8th child, Luella, died in 1884 in Arizona, so they would have had to have been in Arizona by then.
[18] From Church records we know that Jonathan and Mary Ann started married life in Provo, Utah. Their first four children were born in Provo. By 1865, when Caleb William was born, they were living at Bennington, Bear Lake County, Idaho. According to the book, “Treasured Tidbits of Time,” an informal history of Bear Lake Valley by Jens Patrick Wilde, published in 1977, “Jared Bullock and Jonathan Hoopes came by way of Soda Springs in the fall of 1864 and constructed the first cabins in the area...It is said that Brigham Young named the community after Bennington, Vermont, where he once lived...Bennington settlers found it extremely difficult to farm on the land they had chosen. It was situated on high bench land where cold winds, early frosts and late springs storms handicapped them.” Jonathan and Mary Ann’s next four children were born at Bennington, which is three miles west of Montpelier. Some newer histories give the birthplaces of these children as Montpelier, older histories refer to Bennington. Luella, the last child to be born in Bennington, died in 1884 in Arizona, so by then they had moved there. Robert Thomas was born in 1871 in Scipio, Utah County, Utah. Bert was born in 1877 in Henry’s Fork, Sweetwater County, Wyoming, and Seth, was born in 1879 in Lonetree, Uinta County, Wyoming, so the family moved from Idaho to Utah and back to Wyoming, or at least Mary Ann was living in those places when her children were born.
[19] My grandfather, Grover Hoopes, did tell me that his grandfather loved raising, training and trading horses, and he was very good at it.
[20] These are the names and ages, during September 1880, of Jonathan and Mary Ann’s children:
1 - Anna Eliza, 23, probably married, died in San Francisco, CA in 1939
2 - Francis Marion, 21, probably remained in Wyoming, died there in 1935
3 - John, 19, moved with family, married Mary Isabel Horne in 1883 in Macdonald, Cochise County, Arizona, then settled in Thatcher, Graham County, Arizona
4 - Mary, 17, probably moved with her family
5 - Caleb William, the first to be born in Idaho, 15
6 - George Arthur, my great grandfather, born at Bennington, Idaho, 12, he married Charlotte Iris Curtis in St. David, Arizona.
7 - Jesse Warner, 11
8 - Luella, 9, died at the age of 13 in Arizona in 1884
9 - Robert Thomas, 7
10 - Bert, 3
11 - Seth, 1 (married sisters, Mary Ida Wille and Ila May Willie, granddaughters of the captain of the ill-fated Willie Handcart Company.)
The picture on the next page was taken of the sons of Jonathan Hoopes, Jr., but not at the time that Jonathan relocated to Arizona. The men look much older than their ages given above. Seth, the youngest (top row right), looks to be at least 18, and may not yet have grown a mustache.
Sons of Jonathan Hoopes, Jr. and Mary Ann Baldwin
Top row, left to right: Robert Thomas, Jesse Warner, Bert and Seth
Front row, left to right: Francis Marion, John, Caleb William, and George Arthur
[21] The town of Bannack was not far into Montana Territory. This was the first capital of Montana, a mining town, now a ghost town, and pictures of the old buildings can be seen on several websites. I chose this town because it seemed like a good possibility, but I have no idea of which town in Montana Jonathan’s incident occurred.
[22] Pocatello later became an important rail road stop between Utah and Montana. There is a replica of the old Fort Hall at present-day Pocatello, Idaho, but it had been discontinued by this time. This area, including Ft. Hall, was important to immigrants on their way to Oregon and California, and as a protection to settlers from the Bannock and Shoshoni Indians, one of whose leaders was Chief Pocatello. They called the Indian reservation north of Pocatello, Ft. Hall, after the old army fort. Pocatello did join the Mormon Church, was endowed in the Endowment House in Salt Lake, and later lived on the Ft. Hall Indian Reservation until he died during October 1884. North of Ft. Hall lived another Shoshoni group, the Lemhi, numbering about eighteen hundred and famous in history as Sacajawea’s tribe. They wintered along the Lemhi River, a southern branch of the Salmon. This information was taken from: “Chief Pocatello, the White Plume” by Brigham D. Madsen, published by the University of Utah Press, 1986.
[23] A type of inexpensive cotton cloth made in the Southern states following the Civil War and was used by pioneers for clothing and things like wall-papering.
[24] Elijah Nicholas Wilson is a well-known historical figure, at least in Utah, Idaho and Wyoming. As an old man he wrote his history and it was published as a book, “The White Indian Boy,” and then became required reading for school children in Utah and other parts of the west. Chapter 22 of his book, called “Frontier Troubles,” is the story of when Nick was called to be in a posse by General (also Mormon Apostle) Charles C. Rich. Nick’s brave partner was Jonathan Hoopes, Jr. From the book we know that Nick and Jonathan were friends and obviously respected each other. According to a book, “The Return of the White Indian Boy,” written by Nick’s son, Charles Alma Wilson, we know that Nick was living in Soda Springs and was serving as the Mormon bishop during the time of this story. Nick later moved to the area near present-day Jackson Hole, Wyoming, where he also served as bishop (although he was promptly released when a visiting authority caught him smoking his pipe, because by then they were enforcing the Word of Wisdom), where he died and is buried at Wilson, Wyoming, which was named for him..
[25] Nick did marry a plural wife, and Peter Maughan was serving as the Presiding Bishop in Franklin at this time. In those days the title, Presiding Bishop was used like Stake President today.
[26] The last chapter in Nick Wilson’s book, “The White Indian Boy” tells about a posse incident involving Jonathan Hoopes.
[27] Charles C. Rich, had been ordained an apostle during the Nauvoo period, crossed the plains as a captain of a company, brought with his company the Nauvoo bell, was sent to colonize San Bernardino in Southern California, and lived there until Brigham Young called the Saints back to Utah. Then he was called to settle the Bear Lake region of Southeastern Idaho in the 1860s. He was sometimes called General Rich, and had a considerable amount of authority and power, not only because of his Church calling but also in the governmental organizations.
[28] Paris, Idaho, is the second oldest town in Idaho. It became the county seat of Bear Lake County and about a decade later, Apostle Rich, with the help of George Osmond, presided over the building of a large stone tabernacle in this small town.
[29] A direct quote, from “The White Indian Boy” by “uncle” Nick Wilson.
[30] According to several histories, woolen army blankets, used by the Mormon Battalion and in the Civil War, were plentiful at the army forts and were prized by the pioneers and Mormons.
[31] Not really known if Jonathan used this phrase, but Nick Wilson did, as written in his history.
[32] President Brigham Young had sent missionaries to the Indians at Ft. Lemhi and were living there at the time of this story.
[33] During the fall of the year most of the Lemhi, a clan of Shoshoni, were buffalo hunting in Wyoming and Montana. They returned to the area around the Ft. Lemhi in the winter months.
[34] An actual quote from Brigham Young, followed for many years by the Mormon pioneers.
[35] A “fellie” is an iron ring tightly held over the wooden wheels on wagons. Sometimes the wood would dry out and the fellies would come off. This required soaking the wheels in water.
[36] A canvas bag in which grain or other food was placed, and held over a horse’s head with a strap in such a way it could eat from the bag.
[37] This is an actual hotel in the ghost town of Bannack. To see pictures of the town, including the Hotel Meade, see
[38] Original name for the second largest city in Idaho, now called Pocatlello, county seat of Bannock County, Idaho.
[39] This actually happened, the Sheriff’s name was Henry Plummer.
[40] “Poligs” was a common slang word for polygamists, and the US Marshals were charged with catching polygamists.
[41] Charles Alma Wilson wrote the sequel to the “White Indian Boy” when he was an old man, telling about his father, Nicholas Wilson’s, service as a Mormon bishop in Soda Springs, his taking a plural wife, etc.
[42] These crops grow well in Soda Springs, along with winter wheat and barley.
[43] Huckleberries are found in the hills around Soda Springs and are an old favorite for jams and jelly.
[44] This was, in fact, being discussed in Soda Springs and the Bear Lake region at the time. Many people from Southwestern Idaho immigrated to Arizona, including the Gila Valley.
[45] This came from “Treasured Tidbits of Time, an informal history of Bear Lake Valley,” published in two volumes, written by Jens Patrick Wilde, published first in 1977 by Keith W. Watkins and Sons, Providence, Utah, Vo1. One, 350 pages, Vol. Two, 212 pages.
[46] We don’t actually know when they started calling themselves Hills instead of Hoopes, but this seems like a logical time.
[47] Mary Ann was set apart as the second counselor in the Relief Society to Sadie (Sarah Diantha Gardner) Curtis, by the new stake president, Andrew Kimball. This is found in “Life is a Fulfilling,” the story of a Mormon pioneer woman, Sarah Diantha Gardner Curtis, by Olive Kimball B. Mitchell, published 1967, BYU Press, Provo, Utah, 267 pages. According to this book, the Relief Society President was given the power by President Kimball (father of Spencer W. Kimball) to lay her hands on people and bless them through the priesthood. Mary Ann’s son, George Arthur, would marry Sadie’s oldest daughter in 1890, and another of Sadie’s daughters would marry a son of President Kimball.
[48] According to “Life is a Fulfilling,” China Mary married Kwong, who first had a restaurant at Pierce, but they moved to Tombstone and cooked at the famous saloon , the Can Can, which was across the street from Walcott’s Store, where one of the Curtis son’s worked.
[49] The “honeymoon trail” was a trail that led from St. George, in Southern Utah, across the top of Arizona and down into Snowflake, and was so named because so many Mormons were using it to go to the temple to be sealed.
[50] This actually happened. Montana’s first territorial capital, Bannack, was the site of the territory’s first major gold strike in 1862 and the cradle of Montana’s government. Today a quiet ghost town 25 miles southwest of Dillon (about ten miles from Myrna’s brother Leon Gale’s hunting lodge), Bannack slumbers alongside Grasshopper Creek, once the source of millions of dollars in precious dust. During its heyday, Bannack was terrorized by renegade Sheriff Henry Plummer, whose desperadoes murdered 102 individuals and robbed countless others. Bannack’s law-abiding citizenry rebelled against those atrocities, however. Formation of the “Vigilantes” spelled an end to Plummer’s forays. Twenty-eight of his murderous gang, including Plummer himself, were hanged. Some on a gallows previously built by the outlaw sheriff. The “Toughest Town in the West” then faded as new strikes lured its one-time population of over 3,000 away. Its reputation, however, lives on in Western history and fiction. The remnants of some sixty buildings remain as mute testimony to its rich and oft times violent beginnings.
A