Historical Biography of Bishop Jacob Probst
(by Jacob Probst)
Jacob 1950
Jacob and Mary, 1891
Jacob Probst, son of Ulrich Probst and Anna Barbara Kiener Probst, was born January 3, 1864, at
Habstetten, Bern, Switzerland. The family consisted of the following children, ten in all: John, who died
as a child, John Gottlieb, John Ulrich, Fredrich, Jacob, Ernest, Emil, John, Edward A., and Emma.
My first recollection, as a child three and one-half years old, was when I went fishing with my brother
John U. (he being four years my senior) at a brook near where we lived which contained fish. I was lying
down on my stomach and reaching into the water to catch fish when, lo and behold, a crab caught hold
of my finger and pinched it good and hard. Crying, I ran to my brother for help. He pulled the crab from
my finger. This left a lasting impression on me as a boy and often comes to mind when engaged in this
fine sport of fishing.
Another incident when five and one-half years ole, my father was picking cherries in a large tree. I
followed him up the ladder unnoticed by him and then ventured out on the branches to get cherries
when I slipped and fell about fifteen feet. In the fall I struck a rock, cutting a deep wound (I still have a
scar) just one and one-half inches above the temple, causing several stitches to be sewn by the doctor.
Unconscious, I was carried to the house by my father and placed in bed, knowing nothing until aroused
by my mother and the doctor. My angel mother often told me that the doctor said had I struck my head
on the rock one and one-half inches lower, the fall would have been fatal. So the Lord had a watchful
care over me as a youngster.
My first recollection of my father is of him wearing a soldier’s uniform. To me he was a handsome man.
The laws of Switzerland require that every able-bodied man over twenty-one years of age has to do six
weeks’ military service each year until they are forty-five years of age. (My father was a professional
tailor and made soldiers’ uniforms for the government. He employed other tailors in his business.)
My father served in the Army during the Franco-Prussian War in 1870. The Swiss soldiers had to guard
their borderline on the French frontier. Our home at that time was in the town of Oberwangen about five
miles from Bern, the capital of Switzerland. The main highway went through this village from Bern to the
Southwest borderline between Switzerland and France.
During the above-mentioned war, the Germans were victorious. At one stage of the conflict, the German
Army drove a French Army of 40,000 men across the Swiss borderline. As this was neutral ground, they
had to surrender their army and were taken prisoners by the Swiss Government. Why I mentioned this
is because as a little boy six and one-half years old, I well remember watching several days as they
marched along the highway, the French soldiers in divisions, in their red uniforms, being escorted by the
Swiss soldiers to Bern and other cities where they were turned in as prisoners of war. The Swiss government retained and fed this army of men until after the war. Of course, the French government had to pay dearly for that service.
My father, Ulrich Probst, was born April 23, 1838, at Grunenmatt, Bern, Switzerland. Baptized January
14, 1869, by Elder Sommer at Oberwangen. My mother, Anna Barbara Kiener, was born January 17,
1831, at Bolligen, Bern, Switzerland and baptized February 18, 1869, by Willard Richards, son of Willard
Richards of Carthage fame.
I well remember the first Mormon missionaries that came to our home in the fall of 1868. They were
Elders Karl G. Maeser, who presided over the Swiss and German Mission at that time, and Willard
Richards, who baptized and confirmed my mother on the above date. She often told the story of how
they had to break the ice before they could perform the ordinance. The testimony and joy she received
at her baptism remained with her to her dying day.
As a boy five years old, I remember them holding meetings at our home, the first ever held in that
village. The large room was filled with people invited. Remarks were made by the people that they were
the handsomest men they had ever seen. After that my parents frequently went to the meetings at
Bern, headquarters of the Swiss and German Mission. Also, local Elders Theodore Brandley and Christian
Willie often called and stayed at our home. Edward Schonfeld, brother-in-law of Brother Maeser, who
succeeded him in 1870, in presiding over the Swiss and German Mission (sic).
In 1871, Elder John Huber arrived as a missionary from Midway, Utah. He labored as Secretary of the
mission under President Edward Schonfeld and edited the “Stern.” a monthly mission publication.
In 1870, my father was ordained an Elder and called to do local missionary work. He was also called to
preside over the Scherli Branch, which positions he faithfully and successfully filled until we emigrated in
1872. This branch was five or six miles from where we lived. Every Sunday my father and often my
mother and we boys would walk to that place to attend meetings. I remember in going there we had to
pass thru some small villages, and if we were after dark going home, at times were pelted with rotten
apples from behind some hedge or barn. I remember being afraid and clinging close to my mother’s
apron string, as father was frequently detained in visiting saints and others, leaving mother and we boys
to return home without him.
My mother was a good singer and could read music like print, having been a school teacher before her
marriage. Knowing music and being able to teach it is one of the qualifications of a school teacher in
Switzerland. She led the singing at the services, and it was thru her singing and teaching that I learned
many of the German hymns as a boy. My brother J.U. and I used to sing duets. He sang the lead and I
the alto.
I attended the District School two years from 1870-1872. I remember very distinctly my first teacher, a
dark complected lady. She was beautiful and kind. I ranked second best in the class and was loathed to
emigrate because I liked my school and playmates. The sad death of my brother Fred caused by Scarlet
Fever brought great sorrow and grief to the family, as we were about to leave for America. He was one
year older than me.
I still remember my Grandpa and Grandma Probst. They used to visit us. He was also a tailor.
In the spring of 1872, my parents were very busy preparing to emigrate to America and bid adieu to
their relatives and friends and beautiful Switzerland, the land of their birth. The latter part of May, in
connection with other Swiss saints, they started their journey towards the promised land of “Joseph”
the Zion of Latter-day Saints. The parting was one of joy, hope, and expectations, mingled with sadness
and tears as they said goodbye to their kindred and friends. Father’s family consisted of father, mother,
John Gottlieb, John Ulrich, Jacob, Ernest, and John––seven in all.
The president of the Mission, Elder Edward Schonfeld, of Salt Lake City, had charge of the Swiss and
German emigrants and escorted them to Utah. Elder John Huber was appointed to take his place as
president of the Swiss and German Mission from 1871-72. He often visited our home. It was thru his
influence and recommendation that we located in Midway.
Our course of travel was from Bern to Basel and from there to Mannheim, a German city on the Rhine
where the German saints joined us. This being a shipping point, we took a boat down the Rhine, quite a
large company of enthusiastic, happy emigrants bound for Utah. The scenery down the Rhine was
beautiful. The extensive vineyards and quaint old villages with may windmills make it interesting to the
traveler. All went well until we took a boat from Antwerp across the North Sea to England. While this
journey lasted about twenty-four hours, yet in that time most of us changed the melody of song to that
of groaning.
I remember as a boy eight and one-half years old, along with others, feeding the fish. We landed at
Grimsby, England, June 10. From here we traveled by rail to Liverpool, England. On June 12, 1872, 221
saints comprised of English, Scandinavians, Swiss, and German emigrants boarded the steamship
Manhattan at Liverpool, England to set sail across the Atlantic for New York. On board, ship formalities
are few, and as the saints were all steerage passengers, they were soon grouped together according to
nationality. It is here where the Probsts, Buehlers, Hanneys, and others made their acquaintances. Why I
mention these families is because they subsequently located in Midway. Ulrich Buehler’s family consisted
of father, mother, Gottfried, John U., Charles, Gottlieb, Susanna, and Caroline––nine in all, Hanneys––
father, mother, Mary Ann, Albert, Rudolph, Rosa N., and Rosa O.––seven in all. I also remember the
family Brandley. Theodore Brandley and my father, who worked together as local missionaries, were
about the only ones that were not sea sick. They had their hands full waiting on the rest. After a stormy
voyage we arrived at New York, June 26.
The journey from New York to Salt lake City was interesting and pleasant traveling by train, the first
train having arrived in Salt lake City may 10, 1869. So, we were four years too late to enjoy crossing
the plains with ox teams. I will mention two incidents I have always remembered that took place during
this part of the journey while stopping at Omaha, Nebraska, to get some provisions. I saw and stared at
the first Indians. The stories I had heard about their killing and scalping people caused a chill and fear to
come over me. Their scarlet blankets and feathers did not look good to a green emigrant boy.
The other incident was caused by a man of our company, John Rohner, who was deaf and could not
speak the English language. As the train was leaving Omaha, he was looking out of the window. While I
and the others were watching, no doubt, the Indians, his new straw hat blew off. Lo and behold, he left
his seat in haste, ran thru the car and jumped off the platform chasing after his hat. As it was a new
straw hat, the wind took it one way, and the train was going the other. Poor Rohner was soon left
behind. This caused quite a stir among the passengers. Some of the women folk were crying and we kids
the next thing to it, thinking the Indians would have his scalp before morning. The conductor was
appealed to by the man that had charge of the company, and at the first station telegraphed back to
Omaha officials to take the deaf man in charge and send him on the next train, which was the following
day. He arrived in Salt lake City the day after the main body of the saints, but he had his straw hat.
The morning of July 4, we arrived in Salt lake City, a beautiful day. The people were celebrating
Independence Day. We were escorted to the old Tithing Office and yard where the Hotel Utah now
stands, which was a camping place for emigrants and others at that time. I remember during the day,
Brigham Young visiting the emigrants and shaking hands. He was pointed out to us boys by our parents.
My recollection of him is that he was a well-dressed gentleman. It being a holiday, perhaps he was
dressed in his best. He was of medium height, rather stout, square shoulders, a pleasant face, quite
heavy beard, and carried a cane. In reflecting upon the occasion, I have always felt happy of having seen
him as a boy. It was the only time I ever saw him.
During the day, we were visited by John Schank, an old friend of the family, and taken to his home. This
family had emigrated in 1871. My father had loaned him 800.00 Franks at the time he emigrated, with
the understanding he would return it when he would come to Utah. However, in this he was sadly
disappointed. I have often heard father say he had but $5.00 left when he arrived in Salt Lake City.
While stopping at Brother Schank’s place, we met and learned to know some of the good people of
Midway, who had come with two teams to move us to Midway. They were Jacob Burgener and wife,
Sister Mary M. Huber, sweet babe Emma, and the wife of President John Huber of the Swiss and German
Mission. Brother Burgener had a horse team, which was the exception in those days. The bay horse was
his, and gray horse was John Moser’s of the same place. Horse teams were very scarce in Midway at the
time. The other man, Christian Abegglen, had an ox team, as that was really the pioneers’ motor power
in those early days. Besides father’s family and that of Christian Hanney––fourteen in the two families––
there was a Sister Elizabeth Christian who shortly after became the plural wife of Jacob Burgener, also a
Sister Anna Makale who also became the second wife of John Moser. Of course, these folks coming to
Salt lake City to move us to Midway was brought about thru correspondence with missionary John
Huber, whose home was at Midway.
It is strange and yet true that in those early days whenever it was known that emigrants were coming
from the old world, quite often the old pioneers would make it their business to meet these fair
emigrant maidens with a twinkle in their eye and as a ruse were successful in bringing home number
1-2-3 or 4, as their domestic and personal desire would satisfy. Also in this case, the bay horse and the
gray horse did not make the trip to Salt Lake City in vain, but brought home the bacon. Christian
Hanney’s oldest daughter Mary Ann became the plural wife of Martin Nageli of Midway. So, of the small
group of sixteen emigrants that came to Midway at the time, three of its fair maidens entered into the
then polygamous marriages of the L.D.S. Church.
After stopping two days at Salt lake City, we started for our expected future home, Midway. It took the
best part of three days to make the trip, about forty-five miles. In the evening of July the 8th, we
arrived at Midway, Wasatch County, Utah, happy in the thought we had finally arrived at the end of our
journey, feeling fine and ready to take up the adventure of a new world.
The people were hospitable and kind, serving us with the necessities of life. After staying several days in
the home of Brother Burgener, where we were made most welcome, we then moved into a one-roomed
log cabin with dirt roof belonging to John Huber. he had built a new farm house before going on his
mission, and his family was living in it.
On September 9, 1872, I with others was baptized in Snake Creek at Midway, Wasatch County, Utah, by
George Dabling and confirmed on the same date by Robert Cunningham. We remained in this temporary
house for sometime. It was during this time that my brother Edward A. was born, June 3, 1873. Some
inconveniences of this pioneer house were when it stormed, dishes had to be placed on the bed in order
to keep it dry.
The population of Midway at that time was about 600 souls, half of which were Swiss saints, owning and
living in the north half ot the town. Most of this Swiss colony came from Bern, Switzerland, some of
whom had emigrated here as early as 1861 and lived at that time at what was known as Mound City or
Upper Settlement situated along Snake Creek and other springs about two miles northwest of Midway.
They were Dr. Gerber, Schneitters, Burgeners, Abplanalps, Sulsers, Buhlers, Mosers, Naglis, Gallis,
Abegglens, Hubers, Wintsches, Mohlmans, and others. They were a united, industrious, god-fearing, jolly
class of sturdy Swiss pioneers.
The English-speaking population lived at that time in what was commonly called the lower settlement,
properly known as Midway, located about one mile southwest along Snake Creek from the present town of Midway. The first pioneers settled here as early as 1859-60. Among the, Mark Smith, S.H. Epperson,
Van Wagoners, Robeys, and others. In the summer 1866, on account of the Indian trouble of the Black
hawk War, these two colonies moved together for protection against the hostile Indians. They moved up
in a pot rock plateau about halfway between eh two settlements and retained the mane of Midway. The
historians ay there were sixty-six families in all at that time. S.H. Epperson was the firs ecclesiastical
president over this branch of the church.
The first employment my father obtained after arriving in Midway was at the smelter in American Fork
Canyon about eight miles west of Midway. A neighbor, John Z. Wintsch and other, had employment
there also. I recall as a boy of ten of eleven years old peddling butter and eggs over to this small mining
camp in connection with my brother John U., also John U and Charles Buhler. As we had no horses, we
packed the articles on a raft and strapped the load on our back. Before the dawn, morning found us on
our way and arriving at the camp in the cool of the morning. This, of course, was done to keep the
butter hard.
There was a well-beaten trail over the mountain to the camp. Bears were frequently seen by travelers
going and coming to camp. We young lads, of course, were ever expecting and in fear of meeting bears,
so much so that, while going across Deer Creek Mountains, would take off our shoes and walk as careful
as though we were walking on eggs and never speak above a whisper for fear some bear would hear us.
Our imagination was intense.
John Z. Wintsch and my father had seen bears at different times going over this trail to work, but the
bears always gave them the right of way, except on one occasion when father was alone coming home
from work while crossing Deer Creek Timberline Flat. He met a huge bear coming towards him in the
trail. Father stopped and pulled out his old time revolving six shooter to defend himself the best he
could if need be. The bear came within about twenty feet when he stopped, raising on his hind legs with
his mouth open, both staring at each other. Father began to retreat slowly, but during this time had
never prayed more earnestly in his life for deliverance from this oncoming monster bear. The bear
remained on his haunches for some time watching his retreating stranger. After this backing some
distance, a slight curve in the trail brush and quaking aspen trees hid the view from the bear. At this
point he was impressed leap from the trail into the tall grass and trees and quietly made his way behind
a nearby pine tree. Shortly he heard and saw the bear sniffing with his head down and his long shaggy
body going along the trail that father had come over. On arriving home he related the experience with
the bear, saying he knew his prayers were answered when he was impressed to take the leap from the
trail, thereby throwing the bear off from his hiding place.
To substantiate this story, at a later date father was peddling butter and eggs over to Alta, at that time
a booming mining camp, at the head of Little Cottonwood Canyon. At this particular time he hired two
horses and packed them with butter and eggs. He usually took me along as interpreter, he not being
able to speak the English language. I then was a boy eleven years old. We left home at noon and
traveled as far as Blood’s Lake where we camped in an old prospector’s cabin at the hear of Bonanza
Flat.
The next morning bright and early we crossed over the divide at the head of Big Cottonwood Canyon,
passed up by Brighton lake, on up the trail by St. Mary’s Lake, along the steep mountain trail, over the
divide at the head of the two Cottonwood Canyons, and down to the thriving mining town of Alt. I was
good and tired leading one horse all the way.
We soon sold our load and started back home about eight o’clock p. m the same day. It was a beautiful
moonlit night. Father decided to take a shorter route for home, he having gone over the trail before
known as the southern rout across the Mineral Flat and over the divide of the American Fork Canyon,
down to the smelter and over the trail, and across Deer Creek to Midway, arriving home at sunrise.
Coming along the Deer Creek trail, father pointed out the place were he met the bear and the large pine
tree behind which he hid. So, as a boy, this bear story made a lasting impression on my mind.
Father was a professional tailor and had the offer of a job in a large tailoring establishment in Salt Lake
City where some of his friends were working, but he preferred the outdoor life, that of farming. After
one unsuccessful attempt in obtaining land in the southeastern part of Midway, 1875, the same year he
went up Snake Creek, where he obtained a squatter’s right of 160 acres of land. About 100 acres was
mountain grazing land, and the balance 60 acres mostly covered with oak brush. Perhaps ten acres of it
could be plowed without much trouble. That year we planted some potatoes and wheat. Of course,
there were no fences or water ditches, so the first essential thing was to obtain and connect water and
make a ditch. John Sonderegger, a friend of father’s surveyed a ditch from the Bonner Holler Springs to
the land about one-half mile in length, mostly along a side hill and oak brush. The entire distance had to
be dug with pick, grubbing hoe, and shovel.
Father and we boys––Gottlieb, John U., Ernest, and myself worked hard to accomplish that piece of
work, but we succeeded and got the water and raised a small crop that year. A small shanty was built
and some of us usually stayed there at night to herd the range cattle and oxen away from the grain. A
brush fence was built around about thirty acres of land that year. This fence was made by driving stakes
in the ground about every sixteen inches apart and then weaving birch willows and long oak brush
around the stakes. This fence kept the stock out of the field many years.
By this time, thru hard work and industry, we bought two white-faced steers. We named them Bally and
Bright, and after considerable vexation and work in training, these steers became a very useful team of
oxen which did all our plowing and work for a number o years. The nearby canyons and mountains were
full of good building timber and firewood and as coal was thirty-five miles away and money scarce, wood
was our main fuel. Long piles of dry wood were gotten out each fall to keep warm during the long winter
months.
It was a common thing in the fall of the year to see long strings of ox teams going to the different
canyons and getting wood for winter. Even in the snow, oxen were good in breaking roads. Snow in
those early days fell three and four feet deep in the valley. Often fences were an obstruction in going
from place to place on snowshoes. In the summer of 1877, we build a two-room log cabin at the farm,
the family living on the ranch in the summer time and moving back to Midway for winter.
Father was a hardworking man, strong and active. His height was five feet ten inches, weight at his best
180 lb., dark brown hair and beard, complexion fair, and considered good looking. He was rather harsh
and stern with his family of boys. However, we were trained to work. I was scolded more than either of
my brothers and sometimes punished for sluffing my work because I did love to play ball and marbles
and came home late from school. So, in connection with the family, I spent the main porting of my life
on the farm during the summer from 1875-85.
John Huber’s farm joined our ranch on the east. In 1878 he built his home within 100 yards of our
house. The family consisted of father and mother and the following children: John M., Albert, Mary M.,
Emma, Eliza, Matilda, Nephi, Joseph E., and Ida––eleven in all. Our family consisted of father, mother and
seven children––John Gotlieb, John U., Jacob, Ernest, John, Edward A., and Emma E. This made twenty in
all. As our nearest neighbors were about one and a half miles a way, we lived together almost as one
family. During all these years, I don recall one instance of disharmony or trouble.
We lived together as real neighbors, being three miles from the nearest store. Borrowing of daily needs
if one or the other was out of something was mutually shared until such time as one of the other walked to town, often barefoot both boys and girls, with some butter or eggs to buy the things needed. Credit
in those days was not practiced, Pay as yo go was the slogan.
Reflecting upon those good old days of youthful experiences and pleasant associations at the ranch on
Snake Creek was one of the outstanding periods and enjoyment of my life.
In the summer of 1881, John Krebs and family moved from Richfield to Midway. I remember father and I
going to Provo with a team of horses that were balky to assist them in moving to Midway. They located
on Snake Creek, building a log cabin about 100 yards northwest from us. Mrs. Elizabeth Probst Krebs
was a first cousin to my father and knew each other well before emigrating to Utah. They emigrated to
Utah two years before us in 1870. the family of Brother Krebs at this time consisted of four people,
parents and two children––Robert, eleven and Louis, ten. Rosetta had married Arnold Bigler and was
living in Arizona. John and Lena had died. Mr. John Krebs bought two ? of land from John Huber and
afterwards homesteaded eighty acres of land joining the north line of John Huber’s homestead along the
Mahogany Ridge. This necessitated the building of a ditch from what is know as Springer’s Spring along
the mount one side for a mile to the land. Brother Krebs was a peaceable, hardworking man.
During those years while living on the ranch as a young man, Snake Creek in the summer time was the
scene of activity both in a social and business way. The young folk often came from Midway to spend
their leisure time. We had a croquet game and other sports. A high swing was erected at the grove and
courting was not altogether neglected.
At this time there were four saw mills in Snake Creek, namely, Moroni Blood, Joseph McCarroll, and up
and down saw run by John Huber and Jacob Buhler, and Bishop David Van Wagoner had a saw and
shingle mill where the Snake Creek Power Plant is now located. three of these mills were run by water
power.
Bishop John Watkins had a steam saw mill where the Snake Creek Tunnel Flat and building are. these
saw mills employed many of our townspeople chopping timber and hauling logs. It was a common thing
to see two or three yoke of oxen pulling a large load of logs to the mill. the writer has seen logs four
feet in diameter and thirty feet long loaded on a logging cart with three and four yoke of oxen pulling
the load into the mill. The Provosts, Bronsons, Van Wangoners, Bonners, and others knew how to handle
oxen and logs. the seemed to enjoy that kind of hard work. As a rule they would go to the canyon
Monday and return Saturday. Thus, our fine pine groves of these mountains were slaughtered, the
lumber sold, and houses and barns built. So, as you ride thru the mountains now, you see but the
stumps of the once beautiful pine groves. However, these were all fine sturdy pioneers and knew how to
do things at this point.
This narration would be incomplete without a tribute to Moroni Blood. He had a saw mill, planing mill, and
a turning machine near Midway. This mill shop remained in operation for years after the other mills
ceased to exist. Brother Blood was an outstanding, useful pioneer in so many ways. He made the
caskets and trimmed them for the dead many years. He was also a fine old-time fiddler, and well do I
recall dancing after his music until the wee hours in the morning. Others that were associated with him
were Henry Van Wagoner, expert banjo and guitar player, B.M. Smith, fiddler, Bishop Van Wagoner’s
orchestra, and others. We were not lacking for dance music. Dancing and dramatics were our main social
activities.
During the holidays, there were often three dances in progress at the same time, all grouped so much to
that dancers had to be numbered, and you could only dance when you number was called by the floor
manager. If you missed your number, it was just too bad. Our dance halls were the tithing building and
schoolhouse. Each had one room. (Both of these buildings also served for church activities, Sacrament
Meetings, and Sunday School.) Plain quadrilles were the principal dances. Only two or three round
dances were allowed during the entire dance, and then if you danced too close so daylight could not be
seen between partners and the management noticed it, you would perhaps be subject to
embarrassment by being invited to leave the floor, much to the amusement of those at the dance.
These conditions sometimes let to trouble and fights. The dance halls would accommodate four sets of
plain quadrille dancers, four couples to the set. The writer has witnessed dances where fifty and sixty
numbers were sold so you would get a dance about every four or five dances. What a change has come.
Now you dance every time, all round dancing, and the closer the better. Which conditions do you think
best?
