George Madison Mendenhall was born September 29, 1836 at Wilmington, New Castle, Deleware. He was the son of Thomas Mendenhall and Mary Ann Synex.

In the year 1843, his father joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and his mother joined three years later, in 1846. Before joining this Church, they were Friend Quakers. After joining, they were very desirous of coming west and joining the Saints in Utah; so they left Delaware and went to Nauvoo, where they began making preparations for this long hazardous journey across the plains.

On the 22nd of July 1845, their little son, Edmund, who was almost 4 years old, passed away. On April 27, 1847, they lost their baby girl, Elizabeth. She was 2 months old.

They left Nauvoo and started westward, but after reaching Council Bluffs, Iowa, the mother became critically ill, and passed away on April 27, 1848 leaving her husband with four young children to care for alone. She is buried at Council Bluffs. George Madison was next to the oldest of the four remaining children.

During March 1850, his father remarried, and they continued on their journey westward, reaching Salt Lake City on September 13, 1852.

After George grew to manhood, he was tall and stately, had a pleasing countenance that radiated kindness and courage, clear, sparkling blue eyes, and a ruddy complexion; and always wore a beard. He served in the Army as a minuteman under Captain John Chitlester and Major Stephen Marpham. He also served in the Blackhawk Indian War. Following is an incident pertaining to that war and was related by Leonard M. Perkins, as his grandfather told it to him.

"When Grandfather was a young man, he was called with other young men to go to war against the Blackhawk Indians. One day, a group of them were riding in the fields, and scouring the country on the lookout for Indians. They had ridden most of the afternoon when they turned back toward a canyon they had passed earlier. They came out on a point of the mountain, and sighted a large band of Indians some distance away.

It was getting along toward sundown in the mountains, so the group Grandfather was with went down into the canyon, and began making preparations as in to camp for the night; picketing their horses, building a campfire and making their beds, rolling up their blankets, and making them appear as if men were sleeping in the beds.

By that time, it was getting dark, and the men divided into three groups, as Grandfather related the story: one group on either rim of the canyon, and the other group going down the canyon. They concealed themselves and waited. They were sure the Indians would attack them during the night, and were prepared for them. About eleven o'clock, the Indians attacked the camp and filled the beds with arrows. Then, the two groups of soldiers on the canyon rims began shooting at them. The Indians were very surprised, and began retreating down the canyon, when they were met with gunfire in that direction. They turned and tried to escape up the canyon, but the soldiers from the canyon rim had closed off their escape in that direction.

Grandfather was with the group above them, and in relating the story said, 'When the Indians saw they had no means of escape, they went wild and started running back down the canyon again. More Indians lost their lives in that attack, as there was a large band of them.' "

After coming to Utah, George Mendenhall heard stories of the wonderful, golden opportunities in California; and thinking that it surely must be better than Utah, he joined a company including Jim Barnes, Captain Red, and others, and moved on to California. They landed in San Bernadino. He remained there for a little while, but learning that his father had been called by the Church authorities to assist in building a settlement in northern Cache Valley, he came back to assist them in moving.

While enroute to their destination, he stopped on July 3, 1860, and camped at the place in Richmond, Utah for a week where his son, Arthur, many years later, purchased a farm and established his home.

George made two more trips to California, but did not find contentment there, so returned to Utah. On one of his trips to California, he was riding on his horse when a terrible quake shook the ground beneath them. The horse stopped, and right in front of them, a great chasm had opened in the earth. It was impossible to cross, and so deep they could not see the bottom.

In the Spring of 1866, George was called by Brigham Young to go with Thomas Ricks Company back to the Missouri River to assist in bringing a company of pioneers to Utah. He made two trips for that purpose, acting as a guide. His father had previously made three trips back for the same purpose.

During preparations and loading at the Missouri River for one of the return trips George was assisting with, there was a man in the company whom owned a large chest of tools which he desired to bring to Utah. The captain informed him that it would be impossible for him to do so, as he already had all the weight in his wagon he was permitted to carry.

George heard this conversation, but said nothing until the captain had moved on beyond hearing, and then said to the man, "We'll load those tools in my wagon; they'll be worth their weight in gold before we reach Utah." He said later that those tools were in constant demand during the journey, as there were always broken down wagons and equipment that had to be repaired; and that it would have been hard to manage without the aid of those tools. (This incident was related by George Mecham Mendenhall, son of George.)

Among the people wishing to come to Utah was a young boy named Riley (Bud) Davis, but he had no one to come with. George Mendenhall permitted him to ride along in his wagon and drive for him, while he himself hunted and killed game along the way to help the food supply. Other members of the company advised him that he was taking great risks in going away from the company alone to hunt; that the Indians may capture or kill him; but he was unafraid, and replied that as long as he was trying to obtain food for the company, the Lord would take care of him.

Many years later, Riley Davis, in speaking of him said, "George Mendenhall wasn't afraid of anything.' This incident was also related by James Mecham Mendenhall.

After reaching Utah from his second trip back to Missouri, he came on to Franklin, Idaho where his father and family were residing; and there met, and later married Celestia Ann Mecham. At that time, she was teaching school in Franklin.

While her parents were enroute West with a group of emigrants Oregon bound, they camped one night near a stream where some Mormon emigrants were camped, and heard them singing and holding sacred services. Her father said, "Those people are serving the Lord, and we will cast our lot with them." So, they joined the Mormon company and came to Utah, settling in Provo. They later learned that the Oregon bound people they had previously been traveling with were killed by Indians at Massacre Rocks, located on the Snake River in Idaho.

George Mendenhall and Celestia Mecham were married September 28, 1867 in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City.

Their home was blessed with fourteen children: Mary Elvira, George Madison Jr., Valera Jane, Thomas Leslie, Moses LeRoy, Arthur John, Estus Clinton, Effie Marie, James Mecham, Lucinda, Elsie, Elmer, Zella, and Willis; eight boys and six girls.

After George and Celestia were married, they made their home at a place, at that time called Franklin Meadows. This was a section of meadow-like land situated along the west side of Bear River approximately nine miles northwest of the settlement of Franklin. The wild hay grew there in abundance, and the settlers came there each summer to harvest this hay, and haul it home to Franklin to feed their cattle, sheep and horses during the winter.

At that time, there was a ferry across the river, operated by a man named Nathan Packer, and was called the Packer Ferry. It was used as early as 1861, and was in operation until May 10, 1869 when the first bridge across Bear River was completed. This was a toll bridge operated by Nathan Packer, and was known as the Packer Bridge. After the bridge was completed, the name of the settlement was changed to Bridge Porte. An overland stage station was located there, where the horses were changed on the coaches, and a mail route was also located at Bridge Porte.

In the Spring of 1868, George Mendenhall and his wife moved onto a ranch at the mouth of Deep Creek, hear the stage depot, and were the first permanent settlers there. Four years later, they moved farther south, and located near the junction of Five Mile Creek and Bear River. There they homesteaded land and built a home. It was a large one-room cabin. The roof was of dirt, and also the floor. The door was of heavy, rough plank, and faced toward the north. Years later, they built a much better home, and never moved from it, but spent the remainder of their lives there.

They were engaged in stock-raising mainly, but also did some farming. George spent much of his time riding the range, looking after his cattle and horses.

During the early years of their lives in their log home, the Indians were very troublesome and hostile; and the settlers had to be constantly on guard, lest they lose their lives or property, or maybe both.

Following is an incident pertaining to George and Celestia Mendenhall's early married life on their life, related by their grandson, Leonard M. Perkins. He remembers them well.

"Grandfather told me this incident which happened in their early married life.

They lived in a one-room log cabin which was located northeast of the house which still stands today. As far back as I can remember, this log cabin was used for a chicken coop; with a wide shed built on the west, and in front of the barn.

One evening, Grandfather and Grandmother were sitting side by side on the doorstep enjoying the coolness of the evening, with a loaded gun across Grandfather's knees as protection in case of marauding Indians, when a bullet passed between them, and lodged in a plank of the door.

They could see where the shot had been fired from by the smoke in the sagebrush as they looked out toward the point of the hill to the north. Grandfather quickly pulled up his gun and fired into the smoke, then he and Grandmother went swiftly into the house. They were not molested any more that evening, or through the night. The next morning, Grandfather walked over on the hill to the spot where he thought the shot had been fired from; and, as he related the story, he said, 'By dod, I had to bury an Indian.' "

A branch of the Church was organized at Bridge Porte and was considered a part of the Weston Ward. On election days, the settlers at Bridge Porte were obliged to go to Weston if they wished to vote. Following is an incident pertaining to George Mendenhall and his voting. This was related by Olive McCarrey Mendenhall, wife of his son, Arthur.

"Grandpa was very staunch in his beliefs, and was never afraid to stand up and defend what he believed to be right. On election day, he went to Weston to vote; but when he reached the polls, he was informed that the Mormons weren't being permitted to vote. Grandpa went right ahead with his voting, and then said to them, 'You put that down.' Again, he was told he couldn't vote, and again he replied, 'You put that down.' The third time his vote was rejected, Grandpa straightened up tall and stern, and defiantly looking at them said, 'I say, you better put that down.' Grandpa was allowed to vote."

Following is another incident related by Olive Mendenhall.

"After the manifesto went into effect, the U.S. Marshals were constantly harassing the polygamists, seeking them, and chasing after them to put them in prison.

Grandpa and Grandma Mendenhall weren't in sympathy with the practice of polygamy, but felt that the men who had plural wives prior to the manifesto should be permitted to provide for them, and help them rear their children. Consequently, they were quite frequently called upon to help some man or men evade the clutches of the law by concealing them until the danger was past.

One evening, two men came hurrying to the door and informed Grandpa and Grandma that the officers were chasing them, and asked for assistance in evading them. They were given supper and a bed in an upstairs bedroom. Later the same evening, two U.S. Marshals came and asked permission to stay for the night. Grandpa and Grandma never turned anyone away whom needed lodging; so the officers were taken in, provided with supper, and a bed in a downstairs bedroom. Their horses were cared for, and all was peace and quiet.

The next morning, the officers were given breakfast, and went merrily on their way. Then, the polygamists were also fed and sent back to their homes and families. Grandpa said later that if these officers had attempted to go upstairs, they would have faced his shotgun.

Grandpa raised corn for feed, and kept it stored in a building which had a small hole in the room from which he could get the corn out by hand.

One day, he noticed that some of the corn was missing; the next day, more corn was missing from the bin, so he set a coyote trap on top of the corn; but the trap would not go through the small hole in the roof.

That night, along toward midnight, Grandpa and Grandma heard a man yelling for help, so they knew the coyote trap had been sprung. He went out to the corn bin, and sure enough, a man was at the top with his hand in the trap. Grandpa helped him to get free, and never missed any more corn."

"Grandfather always kept his riding horses in a small pasture northeast of the house, just back of the grainery where he could get it in a hurry if he needed it. One day, a man came by and stopped to talk to Grandfather about either selling him the horse, or making a trade with him. Grandfather told him the horse wasn't for sale or trade, and that he liked a good horse as well as any man. The stranger was rather perturbed and left, saying, 'I'll get that horse yet!'

Some time after this incident, Grandfather and Grandmother heard the dog barking in the night, and Grandfather took his shotgun and went outside. Someone was in the pasture where he kept his riding horse.

The next day, Grandfather talked to a man who was on his way to consult a doctor. He said he and his neighbor were out hunting rabbits, and that the neighbor had shot him in the legs accidentally.

Grandfather told us he knew who had done the shooting, and that the injured man was the one whom had vowed he would get that horse yet.

I have heard men say that Grandfather was an expert shot until he grew old, and his eyesight became dimmed. I have been told that a 16-penney nail could be driven part-way into a post, and Grandfather could stand back 25 yards, and finish driving the nail with a shot from a .22 rifle.

"While the Indians were still troublesome, and plundering the farms of the settlers by stealing whatever they could get away with, they came to Grandfather's ranch one night. He heard horses running around, and, as usual, took his gun and went outside. The Indians had his entire herd of horses on the run, driving them toward Bear River - north and east of his ranch. He quickly caught up his pony and went after them; and by the time they were crossing the river, he was on the bank. He could see the outlines of the Indians in the water, and began shooting. After each shot, he heard a splash in the water; and got back seven of his eight horses.

After Grandfather and Grandmother had been married for a while - (I don't know just how long) one Sunday at Church in Weston, the Bishop came to Grandfather and asked him if he could pay some tithing. Grandfather said he could; and that if the Bishop would come out to the ranch, he could pick out a team of horses for tithing. The Bishop was reluctant about doing this, and told Grandfather he should pick out the team himself that he desired to turn in for tithing. Grandfather said, 'No; if you want some tithing, you come on out to the ranch, and choose any team you wish.' So, the Bishop chose a beautiful team from Grandfather's band of horses.

That is an example of the way he paid his tithing, the very best from his pastures. In those days, people paid their tithing with produce from their farms and ranches, but had very little cash. People living today who remember Grandfather say that he always had the most beautiful horses in the valley, both for driving and riding."

Following is an incident that happened in the lives of Grandfather and Grandmother Mendenhall, and was related by John Crashaw of Oxford, Idaho. He remembers them very well.

"Brother Mendenhall always had some very beautiful driving teams, and loved to drive them. They were always brushed and curried, and groomed to perfection; and were always sleek and fat, and full of life.

One day, he and his wife drove to Preston in the white-top buggy to do some shopping. It was in the spring of the year, and the river was too high to make fording safe; so they had to drive around to the Battle Creek bridge, which was out of their way several miles; but there was no bridge nearer at the time.

When they completed their business in town, and were on their way home, for some reason or other, Sister Mendenhall was riding in the hind seat. (In those days, it was called the hind seat, not rear or back seat.) The roads were rough and filled with chuck holes, as we called them; and the team was full of life, and kept Brother Mendenhall occupied with driving.

On reaching home, he jumped out, and tied the team to the hitching post; then turned to assist his wife from the buggy, but she was missing - as also was the hind seat. He had bounced them out somewhere along the road. He hurried back, and there they were, lying in the road near where they had crossed the river bridge, some three or four miles from home. Sister Mendenhall was seriously injured, and never fully recovered."

Grandfather had a driving team named Cap and Coley that were his regular driving team. One day, all of the kids went to Preston in the white-topped buggy; and as they were returning home down the hill to the old ford to cross the river, the pin dropped out of the double-trees, and the team became frightened and ran away; tipping the buggy over, and scattering the kids all the way down the hill: Effie, Jimmy, Lucinda, Elmer, Zella, and Willis. No one was seriously injured, except Zella: she sustained a broken leg. Old Cap also got a broken leg, and had to be shot.

In the early days of pioneering the West, good horses were a priceless possession of the settlers. They used them for many purposes; to do their farm work, to take them wherever they wished or needed to go; for racing, pulling, and practically everything that required power; and many times their lives depended on the fleetness and endurance of their horses. On one occasion when Grandfather was in Preston with Cap and Coley, a man drove into town with a fast-trotting horse hitched to a two-wheel cart. He wanted to get a race with someone, and asked Grandfather if he would trot his team against the trotting horse. Grandfather replied, "Why, my horses are only and old working team." He went ahead and completed his business in town, and started for home. As he turned his team toward the north in leaving town, the man with the fast horse pulled out in front of him on the corner, and began to speed up. Grandfather spoke to his team, and they were off. Other men in town had heard the challenge, and were watching for something to happen. Old Cap and Coley kept their noses touching the seat of that cart; and try as he would, the man couldn't get ahead. Finally, he pulled over to the side of the road, and motioned for Grandfather to stop; which he did; and the stranger asked, 'Where did you ever get that team?' Grandfather replied that he had raised them. 'Well,' said the man, 'I never saw a better team.'

The doors of George Mendenhall's home were always open to any and all, and a helping hand extended to everyone in need. People passing through were always welcome to stop and rest, and feed their horses; and to spend the night if they wished, for as many days as they cared to stay. They were always welcome to a warm, comfortable bed, and some tasty, nourishing meals. There was always heart room as well as house room.

At one time, a young couple stopped and asked permission to stop as they had a very sick little child. They were taken in and cared for, and all done that was possible for the little child, but it passed away. Brother and Sister Mendenhall assisted with the preparations for its burial, and permitted it to be laid away on their own private burying lot on their ranch.

During the winter of 1878 - 79, and epidemic of diphtheria swept through the settlements, and many of the children lost their lives. Hardly a house was left intact; all were sorrowing because of the loss of some of their children. Some adults also contracted this dread disease and died.

On March 24, George Mendenhall and his wife had to part with two of their children; Valera Jane, and Thomas Leslie. On the 27th, just three days later, another passed away. This was Moses LeRoy; and on the 18th of April, George Madison Jr. was taken also, leaving just two of their six children; Mary Elvira and Arthur John; the oldest and the youngest. Their parents were almost overcome with grief, but they continued to have faith and courage, and to extend a helping hand to others in sorrow.

People were so much in fear of this dreadful disease, and of carrying it home to their own families, that they dared not go into the house of those who were affected to assist them; and when a child died, the parents, themselves, had to prepare it for burial. They would then place it outside, and some of the neighbors would take it up to the place of burial and lay it away.

On the 9th of April 1882, the Mendenhalls lost a little two year old son, named Clinton Estus. During the winter of 1902 - 03, another epidemic of diphtheria took the lives of many children in the settlement; and again, Brother and Sister Mendenhall had to part with two of their children; Zella on December 6th, and Elsie on the 12th; both beautiful little girls.

Sorrow almost overcame their parents, but they went bravely on, and were always willing to acknowledge the Lord's claim on their children. At this time, Sister Mendenhall said, "I guess the Lord never meant for us to keep them; but, oh! It's so hard to give them up."

But even now, their sorrows weren't to be healed. During the winter of 1905 - 06, their daughter, Lucinda became critically ill, and passed away on February 11, at the age of 21. Her poor parents' hearts were broken: they had been tried beyond their power of endurance. The mother's health was failing, but their faith and courage did not fail them. They remained true and faithful to the Church, even though the Lord had called eight of their children from them.

During the month of September 1903, Sister Mendenhall went through the Temple, and took out endowments for her two little girls, Elsie and Zella; and again in 1907, she did the same for Lucinda; but her health was failing rapidly, and on March 11, 1909, she passed away, and was buried beside her children on their ranch.

After her death, Grandfather remained at his home, and members of his family lived with him and worked his farm. He was very lonely, but was always kind and pleasant. His son, Willis' wife said of him, "I only knew Grandfather for a few months before his death, but he was very kind to me. He lived with us for a while, and always helped me in every way he could. He thought the men-folks should do the heavy work around the house, such as carrying water and coal, etc. and was always telling Willis he should help me more.

On washdays, Grandpa always sat and turned the hand washer for me, and never left his post until the washing was finished.

He loved dumplings for supper, and I often made them for him; but it seemed that he always timed it just right to lift the lid and look at the dumplings at the proper time to cause them to fall and go heavy. One time, I complained to Willis about it, and he just laughed and said, "Don't you know he does it intentionally because he likes the dumplings heavy?" So, I didn't complain any more - just made soggy dumplings."

During the winter of 1916 - 17, Grandpa Mendenhall's health failed rapidly. He was sick most of the winter, and stayed at the home of his daughter, Elvira Perkins in Dayton. But, when Spring came, he seemed to feel better, and wanted to go home; but soon became critically ill, and on May 1, 1917, he passed away.

His funeral was held at his home, as had been all the others of his family who had gone before. This was his request. He was buried beside his lovely and beloved wife and their children, only a short distance from the home where they spent so many years together.

He remained true to the faith, and although their sorrows were many, and hard to bear, he never lost courage or faltered, but went bravely on, trying to live his life the best he could; and all who knew him cherished his memory. He planted a foundation for his posterity that is strong as the Rock of Gibralter, and will sustain them if they walk in his footsteps. At the time of his death, he was 81 years of age.

During the winter of 1916 - 17, while he was ill at his daughter, Elvira's home, his daughter, Effie passed away on December 23rd in Brigham, Utah, and was brought to Dayton for burial, but he was unable to attend her funeral.

On November 13, 1918, his son, Elmer died in France while serving in the Army there during World War One. He was wounded in action, and died in a hospital. He is buried in France.

The only members of the immediate family of George Madison Mendenhall and Celestia Ann Mecham who are living at this time, (November 1, 1954) are the two daughters-in-law mentioned in this history, wives of their sons, Arthur and Willis.

This history was compiled with the help of many others, by Lillian V. Perkins, grandaughter-in-law of George and Celestia Mendenhall

Copyright 1954

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