February
14, 1825 at Nottingham, England. They were
married October 24, 1842. My Grandfather
would then be twenty six years old, and my Grandmother, seventeen years of age. Grandfather was baptized January 6, 1850 and
Grandmother Winterton , June 3, 1850. They
were the parents of eight children, three of whom died in infancy, the other five children
later came to Utah.
Grandfather was very active in the church in
those early days and often filled appointments by going out among the people and helping
to hold Cottage Meetings in company with the Mormon Missionaries. I have often heard my father tell about his
father, his brother, John and himself, walking three miles and then three miles on the
return trip, in order to attend L.D.S. Meetings.
On account of Grandmother having young
children, she was deprived of attendance at church very often, except when cottage
meetings were held at, or near her home. During
those years, there were none of the children that lived so near to the mother as did my
father. He was constantly with her at work,
from the time he was six years old, until the time when he had to break loose from her
arms as she clung to him when the Captain of the ship shouted, “All Aboard!” The ship John J. Boyd was setting sail for New
York.
Yes, William had been her main help. In the factory it was her job to knit stockings. The yarn had to be put on the bobbins. That was William’s job and Grandmother could
keep on running the knitting machine. I
understand the mother and son became quite efficient in the knitting of stockings. The steady work in the knitting factory is the
main reason my father was deprived of the
privileges of school and education. I say
education, and yet he was a genius in many ways. He
had a good memory and his mind was alert. By
the time a load of grain had been sacked and weighed he had the value figured out mentally
before most men could figure the value with pencil and paper. He was an expert in estimating the acreage
in a piece of land, by stepping around it. Father
was a good farmer and very particular in keeping his land clean of weeds. People would come from far distances to buy seed
grain from him. My father was a lover of
sheep and because of his careful selection during the many years, I think I am safe in
saying he had the best quality sheep and the largest sheep of any herd in the surrounding
country, but they were not registered sheep. In
those days, I remember, I knew of no registered sheep in our valley. Sometimes father would buy more to his liking or
to get new blood lines, but his herd was gradually improved by careful selection of his
own herd, both for wool and for mutton type.
He weighed the wool and marked the ewes that produced the better fleeces so they
would be kept in the herd to improve the quality of his sheep. He wanted my brothers an I to go in the sheep
business with him on a broader scale. He said
he would buy the sheep if we would herd and take care of them and take them to the winter
range as did other sheep men. I don’t
know the answer my brothers gave him but I said, “Don’t buy any sheep for me to
herd. I would rather take care of
cattle.” There was no question in my
mind as to whether or not the adventure would pay out financially, but I was tired of
herding sheep. Herding sheep had taken me
from my home and loved ones too much in the past. It
did not give me the life I most desired. I
was not afraid of hard work on the farm. I
was happy when I could drive a team and walk behind a hand plow, run a mowing machine, or
a grain binder. I could pitch and stack hay
and loved to do it.