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Warriner Ahaz Porter of the Mormon Colonies in Mexico

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Warriner Ahaz Porter

of

the Mormon Colonies in Mexico

(1848 – 1932)

Warriner Ahaz Porter was born May 20, 1848, at Winter Quarters, Florence, Nebraska.  His parents, Chauncy Warriner and Lydia Ann Cook Porter were encamped there with others of Mormon Church who had been driven from their homes in Nauvoo.  In the fall of that same year, Lydia Ann Porter crossed the plains to Utah in a covered wagon, taking with her the infant Warriner and four young stepchildren.

After their arrival in Salt Lake City, they suffered through a year of near starvation before Chauncy was able to join them in the fall of 1849.  Soon after settling in Salt Lake City, he was assigned to manage a sawmill in the Mill Creek area south of the city.  In the autumn of 1854 they moved to Centerville.

The settlers living in Centerville during those early years were beset by many hardships and privations.  Food was very scarce, and cloth or wool for weaving was almost impossible to find.  For this reason, young Warriner worked as a farm laborer at the age of seven, using his earnings to help with the finances of the home.  His formal schooling was very limited, as school was held for only two or three months a year, during the coldest weather when there was less demand for manual labor.

In 1858, Chauncy Porter moved his family to Morgan County, where he went into business with his brothers running a sawmill.  They later founded  a community know as Porterville.  Once again, Warriner was denied a chance for the education he desired so much, but he learned a valuable lessons in knowing how to work with his hands, and grew up strong, independent, and able to support himself at several occupations.

In Porterville there lived the family of Richard S. and Elizabeth Norwood.  Through the years of growing up together, Warriner and Mary Malinda Norwood fell in love. They were married in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City, on October 5, 1867.

Warriner had been raised in a home where plural marriage was accepted as part of his religion.  He was sincerely convinced that it was right, and therefore on July 21, 1873, after he and Mary had three children, he married Martha Norwood, Mary’s younger sister.

The people in Porterville made an attempt to organize themselves in the United Order.  The experiment lasted only 18 months, but the  Porter family believed this to be the right way of life, if people could only learn to live its principles.  Warriner sold his home and farm and moved to southern Utah were the United Order had been set up in the small town of Orderville, Kane County.  Each adult in the Order was assigned to work at the task best suited to his or her talents.  Warriner worked in the cabinet and carpenter shop and later became the manager of all furniture making in the Order.

In addition to this work in the Order, Warriner was busy in church and in civic affairs.  He served as a Ward Teacher, Sunday School Teacher, a member of the Stake Sunday School Superintendency, and a High Councilman.  For a time he was the sheriff of Kane County.  Warriner always felt that the time years he spent in Orderville were the most pleasant of his life.

While living in Orderville, Warriner married his third wife.  On April 23, 1879, he married Rachel Ann Black, a daughter of William Morley and Maria Hansen Black.

When the United States Congress passed laws against plural marriage, it became illegal for any man living this principle to vote, to hold public office or to own property.  Men were hounded, persecuted and even imprisoned.  So these good men who married in the sincere belief that they were doing right were forced to make a grim decision.  They must abandon the wives and children whom they loved, or they must seek some other locality where they might live together as families, free from persecution.  After asking advice from the President of the Church, Warriner decided the only solution was to take his family, leave the United States and settle in the Mormon colonies which were being established in Mexico.

The summer of 1889 was spent in preparation. Property must be sold and business affairs settled.  Clothing must be provided for two years, and wagons teams and supplies must be assembled.  At the time the Porter family began the exodus to Mexico, Mary had eight children, one of whom was married.  Martha had four living children, the oldest just 15 years old, and Rachel’s four living children were all under nine years of age.  Each of the wives was leaving behind a small grave, for each had lost a child.  They had no hopes that they would  ever again see the friends and family they were leaving in Utah, so the start of the journey was tinged with sadness.

On October 3, 1889, the long line of wagons left Orderville.  The Porter family traveled with a good friend, Christopher Heaton, who later married Phoebe Ellen Billingsly, a sister to Mary and Martha Norwood.  Tragedy struck within weeks of their departure. On October 28, Warriner Eugene, Mary’s oldest son, died at Black Rock crossing of the Little Colorado.  He had not been in good health for a long time, and the hardships of the trip overtaxed his heart.  The grief-stricken father and brother retraced their way back about three miles to a small station where they were able salvage enough lumber to make a simple casket.   He was then carried another 10 miles to the town of St. Joseph, Arizona.  Some of Warriner’s people lived there, and it was a great comfort that they did not have to bury him among strangers.

After weary weeks, the travelers reached Deming , New Mexico.  Some miles beyond Deming, they were required to pass through customers.  A bond was set on all their property with instructions that they must return within six months, bringing each item of property to prove it had not been sold in Mexico.  In this way the bond would be lifted.

After crossing the border at Las Palomas, they followed the Boca Grande, traveling along the west bank until they reached the Mormon settlement at Colonia Diaz.  Before they could rest, however, they had to go on to Ascension to report to the Mexican Government.  They arrived there on December 17, 1889.

Warriner returned his family to Diaz and then went on a tour of the colonies of Dublan, Juarez and Pacheco to decide where it would be best for them to settle.  The mountains near Pacheco were covered with tall pines, the first Warriner had seen for many weeks, and he felt that this was the place for him.  Hence, on February 3, 1890, the Porters and Heatons settled in Pacheco on a three-acre flat near the river and under the hills on the northeast side of town.  They tunneled back into the hill to make dugouts, stretched out their tents, and by using the wagon boxes for bedrooms were able to settle into temporary quarters.

Because of his skill as a carpenter, Warriner found a job building a millhouse near Juarez.  But before the task was more than started, he was stricken by a severe attack of chills and fever which left him unable to work for over three months.  Another three months was spent in returning to lift his bond in Deming, so the first years in Pacheco were lean ones.  Most of the bread was made from corn grown by the Mexicans which had to be hauled 40 miles over almost impassable roads.  This corn bread with Mexican beans and molasses made up the major part of their diet.  Deer and turkey could be found in the hills, but the men could spare little time for hunting.

By the fall of 1891, through much back-breaking effort, the families had adequate housing, a good crop of corn and potatoes and a vegetable garden.  A team and tow of the wagons had been traded for milk cows, so living conditions began to improve.  Warriner found, however, that the little farm had insufficient water in the dry season, while the rainy season brought floods roaring down the canyon to wash out dams and ditches. 

When they received an offer of land in Cave Valley, the Porters and Heatons sold the farm and moved, arriving in Cave Valley in the spring of 1892.  Warriner bought a house and lot with a nice orchard and also a small farm.  Then he and Chris Heaton went into partnership and bought a combination shigle and grist mill and they began to prosper. 

During the summer of 1893, Martha Porter became very ill.  On August 21, she died, leaving four children, one of whom was married.  So once again the Porter family was plunged into sorrow.  The three wives had lived together in complete harmony.  The children hardly knew which mother was their own.  Mary and Rachel took Marth’as children and raised them with the same love they showed toward the children born to them. 

Cave Valley was organized in the United Order early in 1893 with Christopher Heaton as President and William Morley Black and Warriner Porter as Vice Presidents.  When the Order leased a sawmill near Pacheco, Warriner was assigned to manage it.  For two years, he and Rachel lived there while Mary kept things going in Cave Valley. 

Christopher Heaton was killed by Mexicans while working at the manufacture of molasses in the Casas Grandes Valley.  Warriner was stunned by this loss, as Chris had been a brother as well as a good friend.  Phoebe Ellen, Heaton’s wife, moved her family back to Utah.

William M. Black was then made President of the Order, but it was not to last much longer.  The settlers were forced to leave their homes because of a misunderstanding about financial arrangements.  The Order was dissolved and the settlers moved back to the other colonies.  With others, Warriner chose to move to Pacheco.

A short time before Chris Heaton’s death, Warriner had bought his share of the mill.  But tragically, just after making the final payment on it, the mill burned to the ground.

While living in Cave Valley, four more daughters had been born.  Mary’s daughter was the last of her 11 children.  The first of three daughters born to Rachel during this period lived only a few weeks, so there was another small grave to leave behind.

The move to Pacheco necessitated the buying of a farm, as all the Church land under irrigation had been taken up.  The farm that Warriner purchased contained a very good site for a water-powered mill.  The dam which had furnished water for this area had been washed out, leaving the farms with and the mill high and dry.  Warriner offered to rebuild one third of the dam if other farmers would help with the rest.  It was finally agreed that each famer should pay for his share according to the size of his farm.  Warriner’s farm was of such size that he ended up being responsible for building two-thirds of the dam and two-thirds of the upkeep of the ditches.  When a water company was formed he was logically elected president.

After moving his families to Pacheco in 1897, Warriner returned to Cave Valley and gathered up all of the equipment which had not been destroyed in the fire with the mill.  He was also able to salvage enough lumber from the old home to build two rooms on his farm.  By constructing a workshop near the mill, he provided adequate shelter for his families.  During the next three years Warriner and his boys managed to add eleven rooms to the house.  This home served as comfortable living quarters for both families.  There was an enormous living room in the center which was shared by both families, while on each side were the private living quarters, so that each family could have its own individuality.  This was a happy time for the family, marred only by the death of Rachel’s year-old son on August of 1899.

In 1903 Warriner sold the shingle mill, keeping the little gristmill to grind his own grain and that of the mountain settlements.  He purchased a sawmill and was soon selling lumber throughout the colonies.  This mill was operated near Garcia for a time and was then moved to Pacheco.  In 1905 it was decided to move the mill back to the boundary line between Pacheco and Garcia, locating near the head of Round Valley Draw.  His sons were now able to do most of the milling, while Warriner drove a four-horse team, hauling lumber to the various settlements.

Then disaster struck again in the form of the worst flood ever to hit the valley.  It tore the mill from its foundation and carried with it over 50,000 feet of lumber which was scattered in all directions.  Once again this intrepid pioneer gathered up the pieces and started over.  The mill was rebuilt a few miles down the canyon, although it meant a debt of over $1,000, an overwhelming amount for those days.  After the mill was completed, Warriner went into partnership with his son, Omni, who then took over management of the mill.

The Pacheco Land Company was formed about this time for the purpose of assisting settlers to purchase their land from the Church and owning it on a private basis.  Warriner was chosen president of the company and spent many hours of his time helping to complete the negotiations.

The Porters met with another business failure when they took a contract to float a large amount of timber down into the Casas Valley where it was to be milled at the railroad.  They had somply taken on more than could be accomplished and so were not able to fulfill the contract.

The immense financial loss of this experience really hurt, but it seemed as nothing to Warriner compared to the loss of his wife Rachel.  She died on May 5, 1906, just eight days after the birth of her 14th child. The baby daughter lived only one day.  Rachel left 11 living children, one of whom was married and one living away from home. 

It was hard to adjust to this loss, but as always, their faith gave them the needed strength.  Mary, now 55 years old, became a 2nd mother to Rachel’s children, just as she and Rachel had for the children that Martha had left. Of the three families, there were four boys and ten girls still at home.  With a family of this size, Warriner could not afford to be idle.  He tunred the sawmill over to his sons, keeping a one- half share, and operated the shingle mill as well as doing carpenter work, cabinet building, and farming.

Somehow, Warriner always found time to carry his full share of responsibility in church and community. He served as President of the Pacheco Land Company and as a school trustee, and was always on hand to help with community improvements.  His church positions included being a teacher in the Ward, a Stake High Councilman, a Stake Missionary assigned to visit all the Wards, and many other callings through the years.

In 1910, a terrible epidemic of typhoid fever rated through the colonies.  Rachel’s daughter Hortense, a lovely girl of 20, was stricken with the disease.  She died on August 30, 1910.  It was a great blow to lose her in her young womanhood.

In 1911 and the early months of 1912 Warriner spent a great deal of time and money in a complete remodeling of the shingle mill.  He had no sooner put it into operation than they were forced to leave it.  The civil war in Mexico was growing worse and the Mormon colonists were ordered by their leaders to leave the country.  They were given 36 hours in which to reach the nearest railroad, 35 miles away.  Each family was allowed to take only a small amount of clothing and bedding and just enough supplies to get them to El Paso.

Thus, on July 30, 1912, the Porters took their departure from Mexico, leaving an estimated $30,000 worth of property, none which was recovered in Warriner’s lifetime.  After settling his bills and collecting the little he could of money owed to him, Warriner had $17.00 in his pocket with which to move 7 people over 1,000 miles.  His married daughter and her family, number six, also traveled with them, making Warriner responsible for 13 people.

How they accomplished this is another story in itself.  But through their faith and their industry they succeeded.  Because some family members had previously moved to the small town of Grayson, in southeastern Utah, it was decided to move there.  Warriner and Mary Porter lived in Grayson, now Blanding, in San Juan County, Utah, until 1922.  Then they moved to Salt Lake City where they spent their declining years working in the temple. 

Mary passed away on September 10, 1929, at the age of 78.  Warriner carried on alone, faithful and active to the end of his life, which came on May 28, 1932, just after his 84th birthday.

Warriner Ahaz Porter stood at the head of a numerous posterity.  He was the father of 30 children, 10 boys, and 20 girls.  At the time of his death he could count 125 grandchildren and 55 great grandchildren.  Although the last years of his life were spent in poverty in a financial sense, he was wealthy in those riches of life which count the most.      

Carol P. Lyman, granddaughter

Stalwarts South of the Border Nelle Spilsbury Hatch, page 537

Mormon Colonies in Mexico

Jens Christian Larsen Breinholt of the Mormon Colonies in Mexico

Jens Christian Larsen Breinholt

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Jens Christian Larsen Breinholt

1841-1914

I was born on September 8, 1841 at Vinding Land on the beautiful shore of Vejle Bay, about 8 miles from the city of Vejle, Jylland, Denmark.  My father’s name was Lauers Jensen and my mother, Ane Sophie Nielsen.

My parents belonged to the Lutheran protestant church and in accordance with the customs of denomination, I was at the age of about one and one-half months taken to the church, sprinkled with water which act was called baptism by that church, christened and given the name of Jens Christian Lauersen.  The reason why I don’t bear exactly the same name now will be explained later.

My parents were both conscientious, God-fearing people, honest, upright, and industrious.  They were kind and loving toward their children of which they had 10 in number—five boys and five girls. I was the first child.  Having been reared by googly parents I presume that I naturally inherited the same tendencies.  Especially did I at an early age acquire a reverence for God. In my early youth in mingling with people of the world, I did not exhibit my inward convictions in outward manifestations and during the years of my minority I sowed a good deal of wild oats.

By the time I had grown to the age of 20 I had become somewhat disgusted with the religions of the day, deeming them in most cases only hypocrisy.  I consequently took no stock in them.

At the age of 11½ I was hired out to work for my living.  The nature of my work was tending horses, cows, and sheep.  As I remember, the wages for my first summer’s work was less than five dollars (American money) plus by board.  During my early years I hired out to various farmers and also acquired the customary schooling.  In the spring of 1856 when I was 15 years old, I commenced as an apprentice with my father to learn bricklaying and plastering, which occupation I followed more or less as long as I stayed in my native land and also when I came to America.

Inn the spring of 1861 I was introduced by a chym to aman by the name of Niels Jensen, a bricklayer.  This man was a Mormon, a fact which my young fried cunningly concealed from my knowledge until I had bargained with him.  Had I known before hand that he wa a Mormon I would have had nothing to do with him.  On telling my friend so, he assured me it wouldn’t have made any difference, for though a Mormon; he was a pretty good fellow.

Here came the turning point in my life, for although I had been reared in a Christian church by Christian parents and Christian ministers, I did not know what a true Christian was until this man told me.  It did not take very long after my acquaintance with Niels Jensen, through conversing with him on religious matters, that I was convinced that Mormonism was true.  I did not however become humble enough to receive baptism until 1863 when on the 11th day of January I was baptized in a broke on the borders of the city of Vejle by Elder Anders Hansen and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

The conference held in the fall of 1863 in Vejle I was ordained a teacher and sent on a mission to the Horsens Branch to labor under the direction of Gustav Pegan.  I was by him ordained a Priest. Shortly after, I was ordained Elder and set apart to preside over the Horsens Branch. On account of the war between Prussia and Denmark, my work as a messenger of the Gospel did not last long as I, being 22 ½ years old was eligible to be drafted into the army. Therefore, the spring of 1864 I was released from my mission with the privilege of emigrating to Zion. I have built myself of the opportunity. My father, although not a member of the Church at the time was liberal with means to enable me to go. On 4 April 1864 I bade goodbye to my parents, brothers and sisters in Nebsager Mark in on 6 April, I bade adieu to my native land, Jutland, and proceeded on until we arrived at Liverpool, England.

On 28 April 1864 I boarded a large sail ship called the Monarch of the Sea in company with about 1,000 Saints. The captain in charge was John Smith. We found ourselves pretty low crowded. Especially did we experience a great deal of inconveniencing the cooking department and it was chance work if we got anything to eat. It took about 35 days from Liverpool to Castle Garden, New York.

We proceeded on by boat and trail until we landed on the west bank of the Missouri River at a place called Wyoming, where we laid in waiting about a week before the ox trains from Utah arrived which were to take us across the dreary plains. Instead of going with the church teams, I am for other men decided to go as teamsters for a man named Soren Christofferson from Manti so we would not be in debt to the Church for passage.

Her company numbered eight souls with six wagons and 20 yolk of cattle. During the summers of’64,’65 and ’66, the Indians were very hostile on the plains and we were greatly exposed to being massacred by them, being so if you traveling alone and guarded. But God preserved our lives many of our cattle down the plains. When we got to Fort Bridger we were compelled to leave two of our wagons there.

I enjoyed the trip across the plains very much, enjoying good health all the way. We saw no Indians and they did not molest us but many depredations were committed on the plains that summer. We entered the valleys of the mountains by way of Provo Canyon 13 October 1864 and proceeded right onto Manti.

My first job in my adopted country was digging the seller for a Miller who live south of Manti. The next hired out for a year to Peter Rasmussen, Bishop of Salina, Sevier County, Utah.

Manti on 29 October and traveled on foot towards my new home. Went about four miles south of Manti, I retired to a secluded place and kneel down before the Lord in secret prayer and thanksgiving and to him who preserve me over land and sea to the land of Zion and the home of the Saints. I asked my heavenly father on this occasion to bless me with a gift of speedily acquiring the English language and the Gila my lungs which for several years before leaving Denmark had been very weak and at this time would often bleed profusely. I prayed for my mother and father, brothers and sisters, all of whom were left in my native land. I asked God to lead them all into the fold of Christ. I asked him to bless me and all my labors and travels in the land of Zion. I covenanted anew that if he would hear and answer these my humble petitions that I would serve him all days my life. I can say to the praise of the name of God that he has bestowed upon me every gift I asked on this occasion.

I soon acquired the use of the English language, the Bishop taking great pains to instruct me.  While living at Salina, the Black Hawk War broke out in April 1865.  There were several men killed which stirred up great resentment amongst the settlers. I rode bareback on a pony to Glenwood, 15 miles away to warn the settlers of that vicinity that the Indians were on the rampage. I carried a small rifle already loaded as there was no place to carry a ramrod. I returned safely quite late in the day.

During my stay at Salina I heard news about a girl, Joanne Hansen, whom I had known in Denmark. I had shunned her on account of it being rumored that she was going to become a Mormon. She did join the Church and came to Zion with her brother. She was now living alone out in circle Valley since her brother had been killed by the Indians. I renewed my acquaintance with her and after the necessary proposals, we were married by Bishop William Allred on 13 February 1866 and I moved to Circle Valley and join together in building a fort for protection against the savages. I moved our house into the floor for protection and we lived there until the early part of June. Then my order general Daniel H. Wells, the place was vacated. We left our land, crops and all we never returned.

We made our about it Manti for a few weeks and then moved to Ephraim, Sanpete County, where we lived in a little log house. We both worked in the harvest fields cradling and binding wheat and oats to help us acquire a few of the necessities of life. On July 11, 1867 our first son was born, but he died when 11 months old in 1868. Grasshoppers ate most of the wheat crop this year and I spent much of my time in fighting these destroyers. There was however enough we took bread the people and my family did not suffer.

This fall I had the pleasure of meeting my brother Peter and my sister Ane and her husband as emigrant Saints to this land.

This fall, 1868, a call was made by President Brigham Young for volunteers to go work on the Union Pacific Railroad in Weber Canyon. My brother and I and a great many more went, but it was cold and the work was dangerous, being in a a deep stone cut called Slate point near the 1,000 mile tree West of Omaha, Nebraska. The majority the men soon went home, many of them not clearing expenses. I stayed until spring and then left without my pay afterwards and afterwards had considerable difficulty in getting it and finally had to take it mostly and goods.

In February 1869 I was ordained a Seventy of the 47th Quorum of Seventies by Thora Thurstesen.  In the fall of 1869 I went to Salt Lake to meet my parents and family and learn my mother had died while crossing the plains.

In 1870 I took my wife to the endowment house in Salt Lake City to be sealed for time and all eternity. With my wife’s consent in full approval I married a young lady from Laaland, Denmark, named Christine Larsen and she was also sealed to me in the Endowment House.  She bore me two daughters, one of whom died in childhood of Diphtheria. My wife Christine also died in April, 1873.

In December 1873 a call came from the First Presidency of the Church for masons and laborers to go work on the St. George Temple. I felt that my duty to go. Thus with approval of my family I left them on 1 December and joined a company of 25 men and boys who arrived in St. George after very difficult weather and bad roads. I worked on the St. George Temple at this time a little over three months giving my time as a free will offering for the erection of the house of the Lord. In the middle of October 1874 I again went to work on the St. George Temple and worked until the stonework was completed which was in March 1875. My wife Christiana whom I had married 30 March 1874 in the Endowment House, accompanied me and also my little daughter Sophia. I then returned home to see from where lived for several years and where several of my children were born.

The spring of 1879 I went to work on the Manti Temple cutting stone in the winter and laying it in the summer for seven continuous years. My wages were $3.50 a day.

Well any from, I and my brothers and my father desired to have our name changed. The reason for doing so was because there were so many families named Larsen living any from that our mail matters went to the wrong persons, and also because the various spellings are names since coming to America. We petitioned the legislative assembly of the Territory Utah asking the privilege of adopting the name of Breinholt as a surname for ourselves and posterity. The privileges granted us by the last legislature in which polygamists were allowed to serve in 1882.

I bought some property in Redmond, Sevier County and move my families there in 1886 and tending to settle down to farming, but I was unable to live in peace on account of the pressure from the US Marshall and forcing the Edmunds law and the charter amendment which required a man to abandon all but one wife. For conscience sake it could not abandon my wife Christiana and her five little children and thus I was tried and found guilty of the crime of unlawful cohabitation. I served hundred five days in the state penitentiary along with many great and good men of the Church. I felt proud that I had been numbered among so many staunch man and true, who were willing to suffer imprisonment for the sake of their families rather than to make the unholy promise to obey the law made by man on purpose to persecute the Mormons.

In 1889 I was asked to take charge and conduct the stonework of the Stake Tabernacle being built in Richfield, so after I put in my spring crop on the farm in Redmond and leaving it to my sons to care for, I began work on the Tabernacle and continued to work there until November 1891.

During this time I had made plans to leave the United States and traveled down to old Mexico and thus in connection with Simon Hansen of Mayfield and Soren Thyggersen of Ephraim, I chartered a Rio Grande freight car to be loaded at you from 24 November 1891. My wife Johanne and family prefer to stay with the home in Redmond and this was a sad parting. I loaded some furniture, provisions, one cow, a team, and some farm implements in the boxcar along with those of my brethren and I wrote on this car being allowed free passage for taking care of the animals.

I arrived at Deming, New Mexico on 3 December to join my family and friends who had arrived by passenger train. From Deming we were to proceed the remainder of our journey by our teams. We also were to receive pass papers from the Mexican Consul and have everything classified, numbered and listed in shape to passed the custom house at Ascensión. This proved to be a very tedious and laborious ordeal, besides its being expensive. On 9 November we started for old Mexico and had an uneventful journey over the barren country to the first Mormon settlement, Colonia Diaz. On 17 December we passed the last guardhouse at Carlito’s and proceeded on to Colonia Dublan, arriving after dark.

On 18 December 1891 we drove onto Joseph Jackson’s flour mill near Casas Grandes, Chihuahua. Here we were made welcome by William Morley Black and his wife who was a sister to my wife Christiana. The following day we pitched our tents beside their house which was a lumber building about 12’ x 14’. The ground was so dry and Rocky that it was difficult to drive stakes in it. We were now thankful to our heavenly father that we had reached the end of our journey without any sickness or harm. The year 1891 was a very dry year and it was difficult to get feed for our livestock and also flour and other food was very scarce. Shortly after the new year I got to build a dry stone wall for brother Jackson around an enclosure of his home. With the help of my two small sons we earned about $3.00 a day.

Shortly after my arrival in Mexico, Brother Black moved to the mountains and he sold me his house. I proceeded to tear it apart and moved it on to a 25 acre tract of farmland in San Jose that I had bought for Brother Jackson. I pitched my tent in the riverbed ownership trees until I got the house built. I continue to work as a stonemason for Joseph Jackson for about two years until his new grist mill was completed.

My family and I became members of the Colonia Dublan Ward, Juarez Stake. We hear joined in the activities of the Ward in my children attended school here until 1899. I did amazing construction on several of the early built homes in Dublan. To mention a few: Helaman Pratt, Gaskel Romney, Lewis Cardon (Louis Cardon)and many others.

Note:  After 1894, this journal history was never completed by J. C. L. Breinholt in his own handwriting, but there were many important things that are necessary to record about his activity and honorable life.

My father, J. C. L. Breinholt, with his wife Christiana and their children on their farm in San Jose, Mexico. Here he cared for his farm and always worked at his trade of masonry and stone cutting. He almost always more to and from work every day, sometimes a total of ten miles.

In the fall of 1894 while at San Jose, Christopher B. Heaton was operating a molasses mill at the adjoining farm. One day some Mexicans were seen loitering around. After Heaton had left for the night the Mexicans returned and rolled barrel of molasses to the pummis pile and covered it with pummis (the pulp of the sugar cane) in preparation for coming back the following night. He decided to try to have them arrested. He went to the officers of the law and asked them to come and arrest these natives when they came back, but he was disappointed as the authors never came. He attempted to handle the situation alone and concealed himself to wait for them to return. Shortly after dark they arrived in ox team and wagon on which the load of the barrel of molasses. When they started to leave, Heaton stepped out and ordered them to stop. They were prepared for trouble and shot Mr. Heaton through the shoulder, then beat him to death of the club. They took his gun robbed him of his watch. Breinholt heard the shot and knew that there was trouble. He immediately sent his two oldest boys to go after the horses in the field instructed them to go to Dublan for help. He then went on foot to the scene of the tragedy. The murderers had left and dragged tree limbs behind the wagon to try to cover up their tracks. These thieves were apprehended but turned free in a day or two without being punished.

In the spring of 1899, J. C. L. Breinholt moved his family to Colonia Juarez. While living in Juarez he built some of the brick and stone houses of that area including one for Anthony W. Ivins and a large stone house for John W. Taylor.

In Juarez and took pride implanting choice fruit trees and other things. At the time they had no culinary water except from the irrigation ditch. An early morning chore, while the water was fresh and clear, was to fill the water barrels for household use. J. C. L. Breinholt was called to serve a mission for the Church in his native land, Denmark. He left November 5, 1900 and return from this mission November 22, 1902. He enjoyed excellent health even though he was at the time 60 years of age.

On account of the revolution in Mexico during the years 1910-1912 the people in the Mormon colonies were counseled by Church Authorities to leave Mexico until the trial was over. Many never returned. J. C. L. Breinholt and his family returned to Redmond, Utah leaving everything they owned except what could be packed in a couple of trunks and a suitcase.

It was difficult to leave his home at age 72 and face the necessity of taking charity from friends and relatives, although he was very happy to see them all again. During the two years that he lived at Redmond he spent considerable time fixing fences, gates, and other things for his eldest son who had remained in Utah and made the family welcome and provide for them with a log house. The summer carrying it was made quite comfortable and here Father and Mother Breinholt lived out the remainder of their lives. He died November 5, 1914 being sick just five days with pneumonia contracted while helping harvest beets. She died just a month later on December 7, 1914 and was buried beside him.  J. C. L. Breinholt was honest and forthright man in all his daily dealings with his fellow man. He was kind intemperate in his disposition. He was neat, clean, and systematic in his everyday habits in person. He observed the Sabbath Day and was regular with family prayers, and his blessings on the food. He paid an honest tithing and he was liberal in his contribution to the Church and the communities in which he lived. He kept his homes and lands in good repair and his orchard in garden were always well cared for. His manners were outstanding and he enjoyed the food that was prepared for the family. He was very particular about his appearance and kept his sandy-colored, medium length beard clean and trim. His penmanship was excellent and he was good in mathematics and tried to improve his education by reading a great deal. He lived the health rule of “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy wealthy and wise.”

Although he never acquired worldly goods in excess of the moderate living he left a good name for his 18 children and the numerous posterity that survived him.

Condensed from the personal Journal of Jens Christian Larsen Breinholt, and completed by Oliver C. Breinholt, son.

Stalwarts South of the Border Nelle Spilsbury Hatch page 63

 

William Morley Black of the Mormon Colonies in Mexico.

William Morley Black

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William Morley Black

(1826 – 1915)

The son of John and Mary Kline Black, William Morley Black was born February 11, 1826 in Vermillion, Richard County, Ohio.  William’s own account follows:

When I was eleven years old, one of our neighbors, a man whom we had always respected by the name of John Potts, got into trouble, and my father made his bond in the sum of $500.00.  When trial came on, Potts could not be found and it took our farm to pay the bond.  At that time Illinois, a new state, was widely advertised as a place homes were cheaply obtained, so Father and three of our neighbors moved into Lawrence County, southern Illinois, and purchased homes near where Bridgeport now stands.  It was a wide, level, beautiful country with groves of timber and stretches of prairie, with cold springs and streams of cold clear water abounding in fish.  The drawbacks were occasional swamps, giving rise to malarial fevers and here — after two years of hard labor in building a new home – our first great sorrow came to us in the death of our father.

My brother Martin, being the first born – the responsibility of managing in the home rested upon him, while I aided what I could by hiring out and giving the family my means.  For two summers I worked in the brickyard getting 37 and one half cents (a) day.  Winters I hired to do farm work, getting $5.00 a month.  When 17 years of age the family consented to let me strike out for myself and I went northward and stopped in the vicinity of where Peoria now stands.  The first summer after leaving home I worked on a farm, getting $8.00 a month, which was considered good wages at the time. The second summer I made an agreement with a Mr. Brockman, a contractor and builder, to work two summers with him.  He was to pay me $6.00 a month and learn me the trade of masonry.  I worked one summer when Mr. Brockman died, which ended that adventure.

In 1845 a little town called Cuba was started.  I secured a town lot and began to gather material to build me a home.  At that time I had made the acquaintance of a family by the name of Banks.  I was temperate, industrious and saving, and during the summer erected, mainly by my own labors, a tidy two-roomed house; and in February 1845, I married Margaret Ruth Banks.  I took quite an interest in politics, and in 1848 I ran for sheriff on the Democratic ticket and was elected.  In the winter of ’48-’49 the news of the discovery of gold in California created quite a fever in our town and I caught it.  In the spring of 1849 a joint stock company was formed to go to the gold field.  I resigned the sheriff’s office and paid one hundred dollars into the company which entitled me to a passage by team across the plains of California…

William Newell was elected captain.  I was selected as a teamster.  On the third day of April with light hearts and high ambitions we kissed our wives, children and parents goodbye and took the trail for the Eldorado of the West.  One hundred miles from Cuba brought us to Nauvoo, Illinois, on Saturday, and we rested the Sabbath.  I strolled through the streets of the city.  Many of the homes were vacant.  Those that were inhabited were occupied by people whose language was strange to me.  I was told that the builders of the city were a lawless sect who for their crime had been driven out; and their beautiful substantial homes and become a prey, almost without price, to a community of French Icarians who purchased from the mob at low prices the homes of the exited Mormons.  Here we crossed the Mississippi River and followed westward the roads made three years previous by the fleeing fugitives from Nauvoo.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Icarians#Nauvoo.2C_Illinois

On the 24th of July we entered Salt Lake Valley emerging from Emigration Canyon.  We were all on tip-toe, anxiously waiting to see what kind of civilization the Mormons would exhibit to us.  Descending from the bench lands, we soon encountered well-cultivated fields that extended westward, evidently small compact holdings, to the very doors of their homes.  Every field was bordered by a newly-made irrigation canal.  And the scarcity of weeds gave evidence of careful culture.  Passing through city, I saw the marking of several blacksmith shops but not a saloon, barber pole, tavern or even a hotel could I see.  But in the northern and thickest settled part of the city we passed a large brush bowery constructed evidently as a screen from the sun and used for public gatherings, and today it looked as if the entire community, both young and old, male and female, were assembled there.  At first I thought we had lost of reckoning and that this was the Sabbath day – but this could not be as the Mormons were an unchristian lawless sect and doubtless paid no heed to the Sabbath.  Passing the city we camped on open ground on the bank of a small stream called the Jordan.  Across the street opposite us stood a low two-roomed dirt-roofed adobe house.  The laughter of children announced to us that the inmates of the home had come.  I met the father whom they familiarly called “Uncle Buck Smith.”  I asked if myself and companion could get supper with them.  He hesitated and finally said, “I am fearful our simple supper would not please you gentlemen.  We can give you a supper of meat, milk, and pigweed greens, but bread we have not.  You see, the flour we brought a year agoa has given out.  We have not had bread for three weeks and have not hopes of any until our harvest comes off.”  I gave them a pan of flour and in return partook of a very relishable meal.  The dirt floor was cleanly swept.  In fact, everything, though crude and primitive, was neat and tidy.  When seated at the table Uncle Buck said, “Be quiet, children,” then he gave thanks for the amply supply of food and asked the Father to bless it to our use.  This was the first time in my life that I had heard a blessing asked on our daily food and this prayer fell from the lips of an uncultured Mormon. 

Toward evening I met another Mormon, a Mr. William Wordsworth.  He was a man of pleasing dress, evidently well educated. He explained to me the nature of the gathering in the bowery.  Two years ago today the pioneer company of the Mormon people, the fugitives from Nauvoo, entered this uninhabited and almost unknown valley, and their thankfulness was enhanced by the hope that they were beyond the reach and power of their old enemies who had cruelly mobbed and persecuted them for the last 15 years.  Their suffering and martyrdom of their Prophet was all news to me and I wished to know the nature of their worship — which, as they affirm, was the primal cause of all their suffering.  To my surprise Mr. Wordsworth invited us to attend their church services the next day.  I accepted the invitation and he promised to call for me. 

Sunday, July 25, 1849 is the day ever to be remembered by me.  Mr. Wordsworth called early and after chatting 10 or 15 minutes with members of the company and again extending an invitation to us all to attend their church, he and I walked together to the bowery.  We secured seats near the front of the congregation.  On the west was a raised platform of lumber on which were seated some 20 of their leading Elders, on neatly-made slab benches were the choir and congregation.  Services opened with singing and prayer, and the sacrament (bread and water)of the Lord’s Supper was blessed and passed to all the people.  Then a man of noble, princely bearing addressed the meeting.  As he arose Mr. Wordsworth said, “That is Apostle John Taylor, one of the two men who were with our Prophet and Patriarch when they were martyred in Carthage jail.”  The word “Apostle” thrilled me, and the sermon, powerful, and testimony that followed filled my soul with a joy and satisfaction that I never felt before and I said to Mr. W., “If that is Mormonism then I am a Mormon.  How can I become a member of your church?”

“By baptism,” he answered.

“I am ready for that ordinance.”

He replied, “Do not be in a hurry.  Stay here and get acquainted with our people.  Study more fully the principles of the gospel.  Then if you wish to cast your lot with us it will be a pleasure to me to baptize you.”  That night I slept but little, I was too happy to sleep.  A revelation had come to me and its light filled my soul.  My desire and ambition for gold was swept away.  I had found the Pearl of Great Price, and I resolved to purchase it, let it cost what it would.

After a few days rest the company pushed on for California, but another man drove my team.  I gave them my all, and in exchange received Baptism at the hands of Levi Jackman.  I had lost the world and become a “Mormon.”  “He that putteth his hand to the plow and turneth back, is not worthy of me.”  As they continued their journey, it was a little painful; their warm cheery good-byes touched me in a tender place; as neighbors and companions for 1400 miles on the plains, they had become dear to me and the parting turned my thoughts back to home and loved ones.  A shade of homesickness rested upon me.  I stood alone with strangers, but “Uncle Buck Smith” sensed the situation and strengthened my young faith with brotherly sympathy inviting me to take my home with them, and he contrived to set me to work which is a sure antidote for the blues.

One day President Wells told me that I had been selected, as one of a party, to go to Sanpete Valley and aid in making a settlement.  I did not wish to go as I had been told that it was a cold frosty place, too high in altitude for agricultural purposes and I felt that my condition would not be bettered again.  I could not see just what right the President had to call me.  I understood and expected them to guide me in spiritual matters but this was of a temporal nature and beyond their jurisdiction.  These were my thoughts and this Pioneer Call was the first trial to my faith.  I am pleased to say the pause was only for a moment.  On reflection, God’s dealings with Noah, Abraham, Moses, Lehi and Nephi was strong evidence that reasoning and tradition were incorrect.  Was not God the Author of the world, as well as the Gospel?  If he builded the earth, why not govern it?  If it requires union of spirit and matter to bring the exaltation of man then it must be that the Priesthood has a right to direct in material and temporal things, as well as in Spiritual things.  The next time I met Brother Wells I told him I was willing to go to Sanpete or anywhere else.

I want my descendants, who may read this sketch, to bear in mind that I was a new disciple and in my mind was still wrapped in the ideas and thoughts of sectarianism, and obedience to the requirements of the Priesthood was a new doctrine to me.  But the call set me to thinking, and studying, and led to an increase in knowledge.  

Today I cannot recall the exact date of my starting to Sanpete, but sometime in February 1850 in company of Ephraim Hanks, William Porter and four others the start was made.  There were no settlements south of Salt Lake City until we reached Provo, where the settlers were living in a fort.  Our progress was slow on account of muddy roads from the melting snows and frequent storms that came at that season of the year.  At the crossing of the Spanish Fork Creek, as we were moving in a narrow road cut through heavy willows, a troop of Indians appeared on the opposite bluff and opened fire on us.  I was driving the lead team and I am free to confess that I halted as soon as I could.  Eph Hanks, the leading spirit of the company, stepped fearlessly to the front and in Spanish held a parley with the Red men, who under the leadership of Josephine, a reputed half-brother of Walker (Chief Wakara) The Indians refused to let us advance unless we would pay tribute.  We gave them one sack of flour and three sacks of corn meal as a peace offering, which was in harmony with President Young’s axiom that it is cheaper to feed them than it is to fight them.  It was by President Young’s wisdom and foresight that Hanks was along.  He is by nature an athlete of wonderful power.  He loved excitement and danger, qualities that gave him influence with the Indians.  On this occasion they had the advantage of us — and had they continued — we could not have escaped.  The whistling of bullets was new music to me, and I was glad when the music ceased and we received no further harm than by scare and the loss of four sacks of provisions.

The trip was a hard one.  Mud and bottomless roads in the valleys.  And over the divide at the head of Salt Creek the snow was from two to four feet deep; for several miles we could move but two wagons at a time.  I have often thought how wise it is that we cannot see the end from the beginning for often the difficulties would be greater than our faith, and we would fail to make the progress that we do.  After two weeks hard struggling, we reached Manti on Sunday and received the heartiest of welcomes — old and young turned out to greet us.  In a short time all of our little company was made to feel at home with old accountancies.  I alone a stranger without kin or acquaintance so when Father Morley, who presided at Manti came and asked if I had friends to stop with, I told him I was an entire stranger. “Well, then come and live with me and be my boy.”

I went for two years and my home was with Father Morley. I learned to love him as my own father. No bargains ever made. I never asked for wages and never received any. I worked at whatever was most needed; as harvest approach we saw the need for grist mill, as there was none within 100 miles of us. Phineas W. Cook and I undertook to build one. We went to the canyon, cut and hewed timber, then hauled it to the mill site at the mouth of the canyon one mile above the Fort. With broad axes and whip saw me prepared and directed to frame the mill. In the meantime Charles Shumway and John D. Chance have built a sawmill just below us. From there we got lumber to finish our mill and President Young came to our assistance by furnishing a pair of Utah homemade burrs. My Christmas our little mill is running improved a great blessing to the infant settlement of Sanpete.

All this time I made my home at Father Morley’s and had learned that Adam and Eve were married before Adam’s fall. Hence, marriage for Eternity, as well as for time, and the union till death do you part, is of human origin.  Then he pointed to Abraham and Jacob who founded the house of Israel; then he cited the revelation given to the Prophet Joseph Smith, which says, “I reveal unto you a new and everlasting covenant, and if you abide not the covenant then ye are damned, for all who will have of blessing at my hands will abide law that was appointed for that blessing.” To my understanding at that time, that meant “plural marriage.” I accepted it. I met a young lady of good family who please me and I pleased her. I told her of my wife and two children and of my desire to go and bring them to Utah. With this information and understanding she was willing to marry me, and in February 1851 I married Mary Ann Washburn. Patriarch Isaac Morley performed the ceremony.

I started back to the states for my family and on 20th of December reached South Canton. To my joy I found my wife Margaret and the children, Martin and Martha there, well. She received me as one from the dead though I had written to her. Yet her friends had prophesied that I would never return. I will be brief and relating the outcome of my return. I was full of love and zeal for Mormonism and my wife’s family, especially her parents, were full of bitterness toward Mormonism. One evening in answer to a question of mother Banks, I told them I had been baptized in the Mormon Church.  My mother-in-law was wild with rage and abused me without stint. I was prepared for the outburst and calmly and kindly made explanations and tried to turn away her wrath with mild answers. Father Banks refused to talk further than to give me to understand that, as a Mormon, I was not welcome beneath his roof. Then they retired without bidding us good night. There was no sleep for myself or Margaret that night.

It was one of the sorrows of my life. It was not a trial, my faith is not shaken. I received life and I knew my duty and was as well-to-do it. As daylight approached I said, “You are my wife and I love you, but I love God better. I’m going to harness my horses and leave your father’s roof. If you want to go with me happier things ready. Otherwise, I shall take Martin, leaving Martha and did you goodbye.” At daylight I drove up to the door. Her bedding was tied and everything packed and ready. I lifted her and the children into the wagon, wrap them in quilts for it was storming furiously. By her suggestions I drove to William Biers, who had married one of her schoolmates. They lived two miles away. They were surprised and amazed that received us kindly. We stayed that day, thankful for the hospitality for it was one of the worst blizzards that I ever have seen. I shall never forget the day and the incident. That time on Margaret’s trust in me was a great comfort. I resolved the heed President Young’s parting counsel, “Be a good boy and come back as soon as you can.” By the time we returned to Utah, Margaret had been baptized and was prepared to meet the new conditions and accepted cheerfully her share of the increase responsibilities that plural marriage brings to all. Margaret and Amy lived together cheerfully and our lives were happy and contented.

In 1874 President Young and George A. Smith visited southern Utah put forth their best efforts to organize us into working companies called United Order. Those who join the order, consecrating all that well, seemed baptized with the new zeal that fill their souls with energy, goodwill and brotherly love, while those who oppose that were filled with jealousy and hatred. In the Order people sold their homes in choosing flat uncultivated land two and a half miles north of Carmel, laid out a town and named it Orderville.  Under Brigham Young’s watchful eye and counsel they were greatly prospered. I cast my lot with the Orderville community consecrating my farm, teams, and interest in the Kanab mill. In fact, my earthly all was put upon the altar and sacrificed in a cause that I believe was instituted for the good of the human family. I was placed in charge of the boardinghouse with seven assistants. We prepared the food for all community, numbering it first 200 but increasing to 600. We got to the system and method so that our meals were served as regular as clockwork. On economic lines the hotel is a grand success. No waste of substance and eight persons served breakfast to a hundred families for one year. The work was confining, yet I was contented.

In 1871 I married Louise Washburn, daughter of Abraham and Clarinda Washburn. My families live together in Orderville. We had good schools and well attended meetings. Indeed life there was a spiritual feast. Our wisest men had been called to the front as directors and above them was in the church was Brigham Young. That stood as a beacon of light to us — and when the lights went out, we were a ship that had lost its pilot. The sailors remained, but they were soon divided in counsel and with division can weakness. When the Orderville United Order dissolved, I moved to Huntington, Castle Valley, bought me a farm of 80 acres which my sons cared for while I worked in Seeley Brothers Grist Mill for three years.

Then I spent one year playing “hide and seek” with the U. S. deputy marshals; but I got tired of the play so I took Louise, the youngest family and skipped for Old Mexico.  I went with two teams, leaving Huntington November 13, 1888, passing through Rabbit Valley and up the Sevier by Johnson’s, then across the Buckskin Mount into Lee’s Ferry. The nights were cold, but no storms. We passed up the Little Colorado in Arizona in the day before Christmas to reach St. Johns, where my own son William G. lived. We spent a pleasant week with them and then moved on. The 4th of June 1889 I reached Colonia Diaz, Old Mexico. So here I am in a foreign land, not a choice but of necessity, in mt own land made a criminal; yet I have not injured any living person. The law that makes me a sinner was enacted on purpose to convict me and was retro-active in its operations. To me it is legally unjust, which adds a sting to the cruelty; but what can’t be cured must be endured so I take as little of the medicine as possible and try to be cheerful.

November I received a letter from W.R.R. Stowell of Colonia Juarez, pushing me to come and help put the machinery into his grist mill. I went at once and then cared for the mill for three years. I then found employment at Jackson’s old mill near Casas Grandes, Chihuahua. I had charge of it for two years and for a year I was superintendent of his new roller mill. When Jackson sold to Memmott and Co., I continued as superintendent. In 1897, feeling the need for a rest, I left the milling business and had a one year of Jubilee like the patriarchs of old. I spent the 24th of July — Pioneer Day — in Salt Lake City, then visited my sister Rachel in Beaver.  From Beaver I returned to Mexico in found employment in Stowell’s grist mill.  For nearly 2 years I attended the mill, sometimes night and day, but the best of my days were passed. The evening of life was approaching. My lungs commenced leading in one day I broke completely down. Father Stowell came to see me and pronounced my condition serious. He hurriedly brought Dr. Keats.  They administered to me and the doctor gave me medicine that check the bleeding, but he forbade my working in the mill; so I parted with the labor that I love and that I had followed most of my life. My son David took me to Colonia Pacheco where I made my home with my wife Maria; and for two years of exercise I worked in the garden or with David or Morley. I rode the range helping to look after our stock.

I visited my children and my sons-in-law in Fruitland, New Mexico. While residing there and just before returning to Mexico, I attended the San Juan stake conference at Mancos, Colorado. Apostle Mathias F. Cowley was in attendance, and on the 16th day of May 1903, he ordained me a Patriarch and gave me a highly treasured blessing.

In the winter of 1906, in mounting a saddle horse, my gloved hand slipped from the horn of the saddle giving me a heavy fall. I had to be carefully nursed for three months. From 1906 and 1912 I remained at Pacheco and during that time, with the assistance of David and Morley, I built a good comfortable four-roomed brick house.

When the Civil War between Francisco I. Madero and Porfirio Diaz broke out, it was understood by both parties are people would remain neutral and they were assured he would not be disturbed; but when Huerta seize the reins of government and Venustiano Carranza took the field as leader of the Constitutionalists, conditions became so violent that President Wilson advised all Americans to leave Mexico.  Still the Mormon colonists hesitated, hoping the war would soon pass in peace return without their having to abandon their homes. But it was not to be. As the strife went on, robbings and plundering’s of our people by both parties became so frequent, property rights were not respected, and life was not secure. Conditions were becoming unbearable, and it was feared resistance to unjust demands would be made and then a general massacre of the Mormon people might follow. To avoid that calamity it was deemed best to sacrifice their homes. On the 28th day of July 1912 just as our Sabbath meeting with closing, a messenger arrived and gave public notice that the entire community must be ready to leave at seven the next morning.

Wagons had to be coupled together and the best put on. Every vehicle in the town was brought out and put to use. At last when all was done that could be done in the darkness of night, the weary, anxious community sat down for a few hours rest. They were awakened by the rumbling storm that swept in fury over the mountain. All day it rain poured ‘til every hollow was a river and no move could be made; with the results of the days carrying would be, no one could tell. Monday night brought rest and then Tuesday morning bright and clear came, all accepted it as a good omen and the pilgrimage was started in a more cheerful mood. My son David P. Was made guide to direct the movements of the company. Thirty-two wagons were lined up all crammed full of the aged and the young but mostly with women and children, because many of the men were in the mountains looking after their stock. Promptly at 7:00 a.m. The train moved. With tearful eyes about 300 persons bade adieu to their earthly all, the homes of comfort and graves of their loved ones.

At Corrales we were joined by another small company of refugees. Then commenced in earnest a hard day’s drive of 30 miles to Pearson. Nine miles out a company of Red Flag Cavalry dashed across the road, haulted our train and demanded our guns and ammunition. Upon giving  solemn promise of protection their demands were complied with and we were permitted to pass on. We reached Pearson without further interruption but too late to take the train for El Paso. The inhabitants of Pearson had abandoned their homes and they were thrown open to us. So we found a grateful shelter for the night.

On the 31st of July we were put on the cars at Pearson. There was a limited number of cars, and in order to take all the refugees, the cars were packed to the utmost limit of their carrying capacity. About 10:00 a.m. the train moved with the load of human freight and at sunset reached Ciudad Juárez.  It was dark when they passed the Custom House and swept into El Paso. Here wonderful reception greeted us. Automobiles, streetcars and private vehicles were placed free for our service. Everything was done that could be done to make us welcome. We were soon transferred to a lumber yard two miles from El Paso where we were served a plentiful supper. True, we were proud, the multitude is great, and in the throng the sick, feeble and aged could not help but suffer. Several women were rushed to the hospital where kindly and skillful assistance given there saved mothers and babes. Soon after our camping in the lumber sheds we had a heavy rain and the yard became a mud puddle, making it very unpleasant for several days. I faced these discomforts and although I felt my strength failing, I made no complaint.

Harry Payne came and said, “Father Black, this is no place for you. You must go to better quarters.” I replied, “I must stay here for I have no money to go anywhere else with.” He leaned forward and whispered, “I remember seeing your name of the Tithing record. You are going to be cared for.”

The next day Apostle Ivins came and talked kindly with me.  He called a Brother Sevey and directed him to take me and Maria and see that we were well cared for. The instructions were carried out.  I remember with pleasure the Hotel Alberta where for eight days we rested and were treated royally.  I feel thankful to the good citizens of El Paso for the aid and sympathy they gave us, and I feel thankful to our government and to President William H. Taft for the prompt appropriation of the magnificent sum of $100,000 to be used in giving aid to the American citizens who were expelled from Mexico.  Of those, about 4,000 were Latter Day Saints and the hearts of all were gladdened by this generous assistance.

On the 10th day of August, Maria and I were furnished with a railroad pass that would take us to Price, Utah.  There was sorrow mixed with joy when we parted our friends and fellow sufferers, the colonists.  We had gone to Mexico in a common cause and for 25 years we had toiled together and had endeared to each other by sacrifices we had made.  As a finishing touch to our experiences, we had drunk together from the bitter cup of expulsion from our homes.  A two-day ride brought us to Price and to our children living in Huntington.

Patriarch William Morley Black died at 4:00 a.m., June 21, 1915 at Blanding, Utah.  He left a wife and 28 living children, 214 living grandchildren and 206 great-grandchildren.  

Submitted by Thora Bradford

Stalwarts South of the Border, Nelle Spilsbury Hatch page 42