Luther Terry and Emily Amelia Cox Tuttle
16 July 1849 - 16 July 1916 and 8 August 1952 - 4 March 1919By Maud Tuttle Olsen, daughter
Emily Amelia Cox
My Mother’s Father, Fredrick Walter Cox was born January 10, 1812 in Plymouth New York. He married Emeline Whiting July 22, 1835, in Nelson, Ohio by the Prophet Joseph Smith, who had just been tarred and feathered, and still had tar behind his ears.
The family left Kanesville, Missouri Jun 20, 1852. They had three wagons, seven yoke of oxen and cows. One each of Grandfathers wives rode in each wagon. Grandfather drove my Grandmothers wagon, Uncle Fred Cox, the oldest Cox son drove Aunt Cordelias wagon, Uncle William the next oldest son drove Aunt Jemimas wagon; he was just eleven years old.
They endured all the privations, hardships and persecutions to which the saints were subject to. Grandmother lost three children and her mother and she herself were desperately ill from Cholera. Their home was burned and everything they owned was destroyed by the mob. They began the long wearisome journey across the plains. On the banks of the North Platte River, near Fort Laramie, Wyoming, my mother Emily Emeline Cox Tuttle was born on the 8th day of August, 1852. The wagon train was stopped for twelve hours.
What trials and suffering these brave pioneer mothers passed through, but their faith remained undaunted. These courageous women never thought of turning back and forsaking their religion. They kept their faces turned to the west for their greatest desire was to reach the valleys of the mountains and be with the saints in Zion. They arrived in Salt Lake City the 28th of September, 1852. They came right on to Manti arriving here October 5, 1852.
Their first home was a log cabin build on the lot where the Dean Lund home now stands. They lived there the first winter, then moved into the fort, where they lived for nine years and nice children were born in the fort to the four wives. While in the fort, mother tells a story of Arriopine an Indian chief, who had beaten his squaw, Grandfather found her hiding the bull rushes in the swam west of town. He brought her to the fort. She was afraid so he put her in Grandmothers room in which there was one small window. Mother said we children watched through the window as Arapine came riding into the fort looking for his squaw. He rode round and round cursing and shouting. The men tried to quiet him, but he had too much “fire water”. To satisfy him they told him they would take him to see his squaw if he would do nothing to her. He promised he would not harm her, so Grandfather brought him into the room, and before he could be stopped he bored into each of here ears with his butcher knife. When he sobered up he felt very badly. Mother said she would never forget how the blood streamed down from here face and how she moaned and cried, holding her head in her hands rocking back and forth. The poor old thing was deaf the rest of her life.
Grandfather and his boys quarried rocks and hauled timber from the mountains to build the large home for his family. It took seven years to build this home. The family moved into it from the fort. It still stands today, a three story home. There was a large room on the top floor where eight spinning wheels were in use all at once. The girls sang, worked and laughed together while at work. There were sixteen girls and eight boys in the Cox home. They loved each other dearly. On the second floor of the home was a large room which was the school room, and also used for dancing. The amusements were mostly in some part of the house or outside in the yard in the summer time. They had games, singing and dancing, and Grandfather payed the flute very well. All wives and children would be together in the evenings and have glorious times. They were so united that the people outside the family circle could hardly tell which mother the children belonged to. Mother and Aunt Ester Snow, Alice Woolley’s mother, were called the Cox twins. Aunt Ester was born in February and mother in August of the same year, 1852. All their lives they were very close. They were married the same day and they passed away within one week of each other.
Grandfather was called on a mission to England in 1862 and Grandmother had a baby girl six moths after his departure. Then Grandmother contracted cancer in her breast. With Uncle William driving the oxen and Mother, then eleven year caring for the six month old baby, and Grandmother very ill, they drove by wagon to Springville, where a doctor put some salve on her breast and the cancer came out. It looked like a large spider with legs. She never had any trouble.
Luther Terry Tuttle
Luther Terry Tuttle was born July 16, 1849 at --Carterville, Pottawattamie County, Iowa. He crossed the plains with his parents, John Henry and Sabra Ann Vorhees Tuttle and arrived in Utah in 1852. They remained in Provo the first winter and moved to Manti the following spring. His mother died when Luther was two years old.
Quoting from a history of Ephraim written by Grace Johnson is a short story of Luther Terry Tuttle. "Many American settlers had access to US Military forts, but not so with the Utah Pioneers. They had no military assistance within hundreds of miles and were completely surrounded by sullen savages. Survival depended not only on courage but ingenuity, diplomacy and ready wit, and also the pioneers knew that food had power with the savages. Many massacres were averted with the giving of food. After the Walker War ended, a little security was felt, but it didn't last long. On Oct 17, 1865, Chief Yennewoods and his bloodthirsty Utes ambushed 12 men in Ephraim canyon. They killed one man and fearfully tortured another. They then continued down the canyon, on through Ephraim and to the fields west. There they burned a wagon, a man and his wife and sixteen year old daughter. A two year old baby boy was not injured and he made is way to his dead Mother."
My father, Luther Tuttle, with others were herding and guarding cattle in the swamps between Ephraim and Manti at this time. They saw the fire and so they made their way to the scene of the massacre and saw the baby at his dead mother's breast. Father was then 16 years of age and was sent on horse back to warn the people in the Gunnison settlement of this raid, which was the beginning of the "Black Hawk War".
Father said, “I rode out south west of Manti over the Saleratus beds, over the hill and started through Antelope Valley. It was a beautiful moonlight night when I saw horses following me. I lay flat on my horse and urged her on. I supposed these horses were carrying Indians; they didn't gain on me, but steadily followed me. At last I reached Gunnison and told them of the attack and also of the following horses.” He was supposed to return home the same night, but the men had him wait until daylight. They accompanied him back to see if they could find out about the horses and out some distance from the settlement, were the two horses, a mare and colt, which had belonged to Father's father. The Indians had driven them off some time before.
In April 1866, Father was called to go back to the Missouri River for immigrants, in Captain Abner Lowry's Company. He was sixteen years old. When the company arrived in Florence, Nebraska, they waited six weeks for the immigrants. When they did arrive it was found that they were affected with the dread disease of Cholera. It was getting so late in the season, that they just loaded sick ones and all into 60 wagons and started their journey westward. Every morning the dead were rolled into blankets, a hole dug four feet deep, the body placed in the hole, covered and then a fire was built on top to keep the wolves away.
Father contracted the disease. They had medicine for it, but Father was so sick, instead of taking Cholera medicine, he took camphor. He nearly smothered to death but he always believed the camphor saved his life. The man, sleeping between him and Uncle Ezra Shoemaker was dead.
One little incident that happened on this trip, that gave them a laugh, Uncle Jack Hall took a louse off his neck and put it on the wagon tire and shot it with his six shooter and said, "That's the last neck you'll ever be on."
When they were nearly at their journeys end and traveling along the Weber River, it began to snow. It snowed for two days and nights to a depth of 15 inches. Their cattle were so nearly exhausted after their long trip that 35 head perished for want of feed and from the cold. Many of the immigrants suffered greatly and many died. One whole family died from Cholera and exposure. This was the last ox teams to arrive in Salt Lake City that fall. The Manti men arrived home October 22, 1866.
During that summer the Indians had raided the stock and had driven off 250 head. There were nine of the town boys who slept in the Cox barn winter and summer, ready to protect the town and people. They always slept with their six shooters buckled on them, so if a call from the man on guard was given, they would waste no time in getting to the trouble. There was never a braver or more willing crowd of boys. Many times they went down to the bottoms, below town, where the stock were kept on pastures, to help rescue some ox or cow that had waded into a spring and could not get out, thus doing a good turn for their neighbors as well as guarding the town. Father was one of the "Barn Crowd". The above Barn Crowd is taken from Uncle Will Cox's history.
Father and mother
On January 3, 1870, Mother Emily Cox, and Luther Tuttle, Edwin Cox, Jane Reid, Ester Cox, Gardner Snow, Jane Lyman and Lime Beech, Mary Morley and Hans Hansen with Grandfather, journeyed to Salt Lake City, where these six couples were married in the Endowment House.
Mother and Fathers first home was one room in Grandfather Tuttle’s home, (the Curtis Keller home), where my only sister was born. Then they build one room one block north, where we now live. They added rooms as they could. Here eight boys and myself were born. Besides raising ten children of their own, they also raised a grandson.
Lloyd wrote, "My parents were the grandest parents I can imagine. In thinking back I cannot remember that they ever talked cross or loud. They never said a cross word to each other. When I was young, I slept in a small bed in the same room as theirs and I remember waking up early in the morning and they would be talking, deciding what was to be done that day. They always got up early. Father always built the fire and went outside to see how the livestock were. He generally fed the pigs and chickens. The feeding and watering of the horses and cows, along with the milking of the cows were the boys’ jobs. Each one had his share to do. I don't think mother or father were stern or cross with us, they were kind and very good. Father never licked any of us."
Luther
"I feel that my childhood days were much better and happier than most of those of my age. I think we were a little better fixed financially than most people in town. Father owned a large herd of breeding ewes. (2000 to 2500). They kept the lambs until they were two and three years old and then sell them. The grazing land was public. Father had 160 acres of good meadow land, pasture, and grain land in the west field and Twin knoll hay land along with 30 acres of very good alfalfa below town."
"Father was a director and buyer for the Central Utah Wool Company. He made five trips back to Boston and it was like Christmas when he came home. The year of 1898, my father and Louis Anderson went back to Boston to see how conditions were for the wool that was bought and sent back there to be sold. This company bought about 90 per cent of all the wool raised in the central and southern part of the state. While he was back there he bought me a bluish gray suit of all wool. The coat was like the army generals in the Confederate with black braid in clever fashion around each button. The pants were knee length with black braid down the side. We had to be 15 or 16 years old to wear long pants."
Luther was a Black Hawk Indian War veteran. He fought crickets and grasshoppers. He suffered all the hardships incident to pioneer life. He was a man of rare judgment. He held various offices of public trust. He was twice a member of the City Council. He was an enterprising shrewd business man and took part in many leading businesses. He was a stockholder in the Manti City Savings Bank. He was a member of the A.O.U.W. In 1894 he opened a harness shop in the Tuttle Block and placed his son, Luther E., in charge. They did a large business, manufacturing a fine line of harnesses and saddles.
In his early married life he carried on a supply business to Pioche and other mining camps, San Francisco and other mining towns.
His home was his heaven. He was always kind and patient. He was ever ready to lend a helping hand or do a kind act to those in need or trouble. Father was always a comfort in sickness. How kind he was to mother during her sickness.
Emily
Mother was very efficient, she planned her work, always on Monday she washed, Tuesday was ironing day. If any clothing or other articles needs a stitched, it was put aside until Wednesday, when she mended. I remember of her going up in the attic or store room and looking for something to make up, either as quilts or rugs or carpet rags, and she cam down laughing and said, “Well I can’t find one thing to make up. Her hands were never idle. With such a large family and having all the ills that come to children I wonder how she ever managed as she did. She was a tailoress, making all the boys suits until they were grown men. The year before she passed away, she was bedfast; she made a suit and overcoat for her grandson Jack. She had the sewing machine placed beside here bed. She would baste the seams and then she would have Jack sew the seams on the machine. She did beautiful handwork crocheting, tatting, knitting. During World War I she knit sweaters, mufflers, socks for the Red Cross. She helped with burial clothes, so often in town. Her favorite quote was “anything worth doing is worth doing well.”
She accomplished so much is spite of the fact she was sick so much of her life. I am sure had she had the medical help we can get now, she would have been saved much suffering. But what a wonderful spirit she had, her laugh was so contagious. She was very quick in speech and action. We had so much fun on April Fools day, as she played jokes on all the family. An inspiration and companion to each of us, she was surely a queen in her home.
She loved books and loved to read. We always knew for our birthdays and at Christmas we would receive a book as a gift. When my brother Fred was in Chicago attending dental school and it was time for him to return home Mother sent money to have him buy books for all of us. What a happy day we had unpacking that large box of books and selecting the ones we wanted.
Many of our evening were spend sitting around Mother while she read aloud to us. We could hardly wait to get the evening meal over and dishes done, so we could hear the next chapter in the book. Monday night was always “Youth Companion” night. This weekly magazine came each Monday. It had both short stories and continued stories and we were all so interested. On night while when was reading to us, Mother said to me “Maud I am chilly, get me a cayenne pepper pill’, that was our medicine. We would take a little bit of cayenne pepper and put it in a small square of silk paper and take it like a pill. I was so interested in the story she was reading that I fixed the pill and took it myself. I sat down and Mother said, “Where is my pill?” We had a good laugh.
Father and Mother managed a family with very few cross words. My sister said there was never any quarreling among the boys. For many years there were fourteen of us to feed three times a day. When I think back it didn’t seem that it was a lot of work to cook enough food for such a large family, but I know now it was. Mother loved to work in her garden. I see her coming with her apron filled with pig weeds and mustard green, and what good greens they were. I still have them each summer in my home. I think of the hot bread she cooked for us every breakfast and the big iron kettle she cooked mutton legs in. It was the best food anyone could ever have. The lovely pink peonies we have in our garden today were planed by my Mother more than 57 years ago and they are still beautiful plants.
Our home was open to all, evening and days. The neighbor boys and girls came to play outside and inside. We played hide and seek in every nook and corner in our home. Mother and Father would join with us. One night the younger boys and girls were playing hide and seek in the house. The older boys and some of their friends were sitting around our long kitchen table studying. It was my turn to seek. I found all of them but my brother Lloyd. I just couldn’t find him and got so upset. Mother tried to help me. They were all laughing. I started to cry. Mother said “well here he is”. He was sitting between two of my other brothers pretending to study.
We had an organ in our home and my sister and older brothers learned to play on that. Then we had our piano, which was on e of the first in Manti. Most of the family played the piano. No matter what time of night that Fred and John came home, they always played apiece on the piano before going to bed. We all went to Mother’s and Fathers bedroom door and spoke to them when we had been out a night. I wonder how they got any rest. Every one of us were sent to college. It was a struggle, but we all had that opportunity.
Mother worked in the Relief Society and she also belonged to the Daughters of the Pioneers. She and father went to the sick, doing much for them, taking food and clothing to those in need. That was father’s religion, to be helpful to the widow and the needy. I often think of Edgar A. Guest’s poem. “It takes a heap of living in a house to make it home. I feel this poem applies to our home.
This tribute was written by a grandson at our reunion of father’s 100th birthday. “Not only did Grandma and Grandpa make their home the center of attractions for large crowds of relatives and friends, but they also enjoyed good music, art and books, the finer things of life. To say they loved children and were generous in rewarding them with kind words and presents would be putting it lightly. They were thrifty, their family was provided with the best they could secure. They were honest, and honorable. Grandpa was a civic leader and they were both a pattern for all us to follow.”
Did two people ever love more? I think the only thing that ever came between mother and father was because he was not more a church man. But he had a religion far superior to many church men, his kindness to the needy, a load of hay to this one and a mutton to someone else. No one will ever know how much he gave to the needy and especially the widowed.
On February 2, 1916 he was stricken with a disease that finally ended his life on July 16, 1916, on his 67th birthday.
After Father’s death Mother tried to keep us all doing and working the farm, sheep and harness shop. She had the mishap to break her hip one year after fathers death. She was in the Salt lake L.D.S. Hospital for sixteen weeks, but with all the help of the medial profession and love and help we all gave her, she passed away March 4, 1919. A noble woman left her earthly home. I quote from a letter written to the family after her death by our cousin Howard R. Driggs so beautifully depicts my mother, “Aunt Emily was one of the sweetest souls that ever lived. Her sunshine was ever being radiated to all. Her hands were full of help, her spirit was beautiful. God bless her sweet memory.”
Maud wrote a story of her father, and another one of her mother. I combined them, leaving out the duplicated material.
Carl Cox