William Morley Black autobiography

WILLIAM MORLEY BLACK

b. 11 Feb. 1826, Vermillion, Richland, Ohio

d. 21 June 1915

The following autobiography was dictated to his daughter Eva by William (Morley) Black during his last illness. Day after day Eva sat beside him and wrote in longhand as he told his story to her. Later it was rewritten by John R. Young, a son in law. The compiler has done a great deal of research and some facts have been discovered which are being added, accompanied by the proof.

After the death of my father it became necessary for me to hire out to help make a living for the family although I was thirteen years old. For two summers I worked at the brick yard, getting thirty-seven and one-half cents a day. Winters I hired to do farm work, getting five dollars a month.

When seventeen years of age mother consented to let me go to Fulton County, Illinois, where her parents and her brothers and sisters were living. It was many miles from Lawrence County to Fulton and it took me some time to get there, walking most of the way. My grandparents were glad to see me and to hear of their daughter but they were having a hard time so I got work on a farm, getting eight dollars a month, which was considered good wages. The second summer I made an agreement with Mr. Brockman, a contractor and builder. He was to pay me six dollars a month and teach me the trade of masonry. I worked with him two summers, then he died, so that ended that venture.

When in 1845 the little town of Cuba was started, I secured a town lot and began to gather material to build me a house. At that time I had made the acquaintance of a family by the name of Banks. Their daughter, Margaret Ruth, and I fell in love. I was temperate, industrious, and saving, and during the summer erected mainly by my own labor a tidy, two-roomed house. On the 5th of February 1847 Margaret Ruth and I were married.

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 1848-49, the news of the discovery of gold in California created quite a fever in our town, and I caught the fever. 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 across the plains to California.

On the first of April, 1849, twelve citizens of the town of Cuba met together and formed a joint stock company, each member paying one hundred dollars into the treasury to be used in purchasing teams and outfits for a journey of two thousand miles through an unsettled Indian territory. We formed as it were a community compact for our defense and protection. The agreement bound us together until we should reach the gold fields. Anyone could withdraw from the company, but in so doing they forfeited the capital they had invested in it. William Maxwell was elected captain. I was elected as a teamster. On the 3rd 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 on Saturday, and we rested the Sabbath. I strolled the streets of the city. Many of the houses were vacant. Those that were inhabited were occupied by a people whose language was strange to me. I was told that the builders of the city were a lawless set who for their crimes had been driven out and their beautiful substantial homes had become a prey almost without price to a company of French Icarians who purchased from the mob at low prices the homes of the exiled Mormons. Here we crossed the Mississippi River and followed westward on the roads made three years previously by the fleeing fugitives from Nauvoo. We crossed the Missouri River at Omaha and rested a few days until we were joined by other gold seekers; we numbered 75 men and 30 wagons. William Maxwell was elected as Captain over the new comers to our group.

The journey to Salt Lake Valley was a prosperous one. The most lively incidents were the days when for sport we hunted buffalo, thousands of them were shot down for the mere fun of the thing. No one seemed to consider that they were the property of the Red Men, and that they by generations of inheritance claimed them as we claim our marked and branded cattle. Sad indeed was it for the Sioux nation when the white men made a thoroughfare through their well stocked hunting grounds.

On the 24th of July we entered the Salt Lake Valley, emerging from Emigration canyon. We were all on tiptoe and anxious to see the kind of civilization the Mormons would exhibit to us. Descending from the bench lands we soon encountered well cultivated fields that extended westward in evidently small compact holdings to the very doors of their homes. Every field was irrigated by a newly made irrigation canal, and the scarcity of weeds gave evidence of careful culture. Passing through their city I saw the marking of several blacksmith shops, but not a sign of a saloon, or even barber pole, tavern or hotel could I see. But in the northern and thickest settled part of the town we passed a large brush bowery constructed evidently as a screen from the sun and used for the public gatherings. And today it looked as if the entire community, both old and young, male and female, were assembled there. At first I thought we had lost our reckoning and this was the Sabbath day, but this could not be, as the Mormons were an unchristian, lawless set who 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 house. The laughter of the children announced to us that the inmates of the house had come. I met the father whom the family called Uncle Buck Smithson. I asked if myself and companions could get supper with them. He hesitated and finally said: "You are welcome, we would be glad to have you come, but I am afraid that our simple supper of milk, meat and pigweed greens would seem very poor to you. We have no bread because the flour we brought a year ago has given out. We have not had bread for three weeks, and have no hopes of any until our harvest."

I gave him a pan of flour and in return partook of as relishable a meal as I ever have eaten. 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 he wanted them to be quiet, and then he gave thanks for the ample 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 address, 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 the martyrdom of the Prophet was all news to me and I wished to know the nature of all their suffering. To my surprise Mr. Wordsworth invited us to attend their church services on the morrow. I accepted the invitation and he promised to call for me. Sunday, July 25, 1849, is a day ever to be remembered by me. Mr. Wordsworth called early and after chatting ten or fifteen 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 twenty of their leading elders, including President Brigham Young. Under the shade of the bowery, seated 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 saints. 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 powerful sermon and testimony that followed filled my soul with a joy and satisfaction that I never felt before, and I said to Mr. Wordsworth, “If that is Mormonism, then I am a Mormon. How can I become a member of your Church?" He answered, "By baptism." I said, "I am ready for the ordinance." He replied, "Do not be in a hurry. Stay here and get acquainted with the 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 Jakeman. 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." The parting with Captain Maxwell and company as they continued their journey was a little painful. Their warm, cheery goodbyes 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, and a shade of homesickness rested upon me. I stood alone with strangers, but Uncle Buck Smithson saved the situation and strengthened my young faith with brotherly sympathy, inviting me to make my home with them, and he contrived to set me to work, which is a sure antidote for the blues. My first week's work in Utah was running an Armstrong mowing machine (scythe) for Uncle Buck, cutting wire grass on the Jordan bottoms.

At the end of the week I found employment as a stone mason in helping to lay the foundation of the Council House, the first public building erected in Salt Lake City. Daniel H. Wells was the superintendent. He was kind and sociable and soon knew my history, and all his life he manifested an interest in me. When the Council House was ready for the carpenters, the masons were started on the tithing building, an adobe structure erected where the Hotel Utah now stands.

While laboring on its walls I became well acquainted with President Brigham Young, as he visited us almost daily, carefully noting the quality of our work. By nature he was an architect and builder. During the summer I learned that Bishop Lorenzo D. Young was going back to the States on Church business. I thought it was a good chance for me to return for my family, and I also felt anxious to carry the glad tidings of the Gospel to my relatives, but I felt impressed to ask President Young's counsel, and did so. He listened attentively to my expressions for a few moments; he was silent as if absorbed in thought, then speaking very slowly and quietly he said: "I think you had better stay here until you get better acquainted with us and the principles of the Gospel; possibly you may not like us, and should you return now your friends may reject the Gospel and you being young in the faith might by their influence be weaned from it. I would advise you to stay longer."

That settled it with me. So far all that I had met was in harmony with my feelings and judgment. But a little test was coming. We had finished the Tithing Building, and for want of better work I went to hauling wood. A Brother Woolsey let me have a yoke of oxen and a wagon and boarded me giving me half the wood that I hauled. It took three days to get a load. Each week I earned a load of wood for which I generally got $8.00, making $1.25 a day, and that was considered good wages.

One day President Wells told me that I had been selected as one of a party to go to Sanpete Valley and to 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 dealing with Noah, Abraham, Moses, Lehi, and Nephi was strong evidence that reasoning and traditions were incorrect. Was not God the author of the world as well as the Gospel? If he built the earth, why not govern it? If it requires union of spirit and matter to bring exaltation of men, then it must be that the priesthood has a right to direct in material or 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 my mind was still steeped 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 some time in February 1850, in company with Ephraim Hanks, William Potter 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 of the snow 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. Ephraim Hanks, the leading spirit of the company, stepped fearlessly to the front, and in Spanish held a parley with the red men who were under the leadership of Josephine, a reputed half-brother of Walker, the king of the mountain Utes. 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, who said it was cheaper to feed them than it was to fight them.

It was by President Young's wisdom and foresight that Hanks was along. He was 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 the onslaught we could not have escaped the whistling of the bullets, which was new music to me, and I was glad when the music ceased and we received no further harm than a scare and the loss of four sacks of possessions.

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 of hard struggling we reached Manti on Sunday and received the heartiest of welcomes. Old and young turned out to greet us and in a short time all of our little company were made to feel at home with old acquaintances. I alone was a stranger without kin or acquaintance, but a warm welcome awaited me. 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 stop with me and be my boy."

I went. For two years my home was with Father Morley, and I learned to love him as my own father. From him I adopted the middle name of Morley. No bargain was ever made; I never asked for wages and never received any. I worked at whatever was most needed. As harvest approached we saw the need of a grist mill, as there was none within a hundred miles of us. Phineas W. Cook and I undertook to build one. We went to the canyon, cut and hewed the timber, then the Ward turned out and hauled it to the mill site at the mouth of the canyon, one mile above the fort. Then with a broad-ax and whip-saw we prepared and erected the frame of the mill. In the meantime Charles Shumway and John D. Chase had built a sawmill just below us. From them we got lumber to finish our mill, and President Young came to our assistance by furnishing a pair of Utah homemade burros. With this help by Christmas our little mill was running, which proved a great blessing to the infant settlements of Sanpete.

All this time I had made my home at Father Morley's. From him I learned that Adam and Eve were married before Adam's fall; hence marriage is for eternity as well as time, and a union until 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 ye abide not that covenant then are ye damned, for all who will have a blessing at my hand shall abide the law that was appointed for that blessing."

To my understanding at that time that meant plural marriage. I acceped it. I met a young lady of good family that pleased me and I pleased her. I told her of my wife and two children and of my desires to go and bring them to Utah. With this understanding and information she was willing to marry me, and in February 1851, I married Amy Jane Washburn, Patriarch Isaac Morley performing the ceremony.

When the work of building the grist mill was accomplished and no work of a pressing nature presented Itself the anxiety of going for my family began to press upon my mind. To bring that about I arranged with Abner Larry to go back to Green River and run a ferry during high water, then I would find some way to continue on to the states. We established the ferry, but the high water didn't come, and that enterprise failed so I returned to Manti, working at haying and harvesting until October. I attended the October conference in Salt Lake City, and on the 7th started east in a company with Apostle Orson Hyde, Almon Babbitt and others numbering twenty five men and seven teams. J. M. Grant was captain. I earned my passage by driving team and doing guard duty for a blind man, Leonard. One fearful stormy night, we had camped near an encampment of Sioux Indians. In the early morning, while the blizzard was raging our horses were stampeded and scattered. All hands turned out and rounded them up, but when morning light came Orson Hyde's mules were gone and were never recovered.

We made the trip in forty days, reaching the Missouri river on the evening of November 15. Mush ice was running in the river, making it dangerous crossing, but Captain Grant with his usual energy rushed us across. By the time the last wagon was over it was dark, so we camped. In the morning the river was frozen over and the boat was locked up. Severe storm followed and I had five hundred miles to travel by team, facing the storm and bitter cold of a severe winter. On the 18th of December I stopped at a hotel, putting up my team at a livery stable. After supper I went to the livery and gave my horses a feed of oats. The barn was built with an alley running from the front door to the rear, with stalls and good manger, and feed boxes on each side of the alley. At the rear end of the alley was a well on a level with the barn floor. When not in use the lid closed on the well. This evening it had been forgotten and left open. I knew nothing of the well, and wishing to wait until the horses had eaten their grain, to keep warm I walked back and forward in the alley. In one of the beats in the dark I walked into the well, falling on the farther edge on my left side. The fall fractured three of my ribs, causing me much suffering. I was so anxious to get home that I continued my journey though every jolt of the wagon gave me pain.

On the 20th of December I reached South Canton, and to my joy I found my wife Margaret and the children, Morton and Martha 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 in relating the outcome of my return. I was full of love and zeal for Mormonism, and my wife's parents were full of bitterness toward Mormonism. For a while, on account of the hurt I had received and the consequent weakness of my body, I said nothing to my parents-in-law about my having become a Mormon, but as soon as I could work without suffering pain I felt it my duty to tell them. And one evening, in answer to a question of Mother Banks, I told them I had been baptized into 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 goodnight.

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 was not shaken. I had received light and I knew my duty and was resolved to do it. As daylight approached, I said: "You are my wife, and I love you, but I love God better. I am going to harness my horses and leave your father's roof. If you want to go with me, have your things ready. Otherwise, I shall take Morton and leave you Martha, and bid you good-bye." At daylight I drew up to the door. Her bedding was tied up and everything packed ready I lifted her and the children into the wagon, wrapped them in quilts, for it was storming furiously, By her suggestion I drove past William Biers, who had married one of her school mates They lived two miles away. They were surprised and amazed, but received us kindly. We stayed the day, thankful for the hospitality, for it was one of the worst blizzards that I have ever seen. I shall never forget the day and the incidents. From that time on Margaret's trust in me was a great comfort, but I resolved to heed President Young's counsel, “Be a good boy, and come back as soon as you can.”

I had learned that the wheat crop last year in Illinois was so great that much of it was still unthreshed, and early winter had stopped the machines. I rented a machine, collected a working crew, and taking my family went to what was called North Prairie and found a home for wife and children while I spent the balance of the winter threshing. In the spring of 1852 I ran down to Bridgeport in Southern Illinois to see my mother, brothers and sisters. I was pained and surprised that they could not see the restored Gospel as I saw it. However I had the joy of seeing my brother Benjamin and my sister Rachel open their hearts to the gospel message, and my dear aged mother was very friendly.

Returning I called upon a Mr. John Brush who had written to me he had a contract to turnpike and grade seven miles of road. He wanted to go to California, hence he wanted me to help him build the road, then he would cross the plains with me. He felt sure we could clear $4000 in the summer's work and offered to divide equally with me, but I declined.

On reaching home at North Prairie I found a letter from the blind man, Leonard, waiting me. He wished me to come to Burlington, Iowa. He had purchased a large stock of goods and wished me to buy the cattle and wagons needed to freight the goods. to Utah I cheerfully agreed to aid him as it provided a way and means for me to emigrate my family to the valleys. I purchased twenty one yoke of oxen and seven wagons and loaded them with Mr. Leonard's goods, and about the first of April started for Zion. It was near the last of May when I reached Omaha, on the Missouri river. Here we connected with the 18th company, the last Mormon train of the season, James C. Snow captain. As he was not quite ready it was thought best for me, with twenty teams that were ready, to move out to the Elkhorn, and here wait for the main company.

We camped and waited until our patience was worn out. Leonard and all in camp urged me to go on. Under these conditions I consented to lead them, and away we went. Our company being small and mostly men we were quick in moving and easily out traveled the large emigrant trains. We soon passed two of them. At Hush Hollow we overtook Captain Wimmer with his train. Here also we were overtaken by Apostles E. T. Benson and J. M. Grant, emigration agents. President Benson censured me sharply for running away, as he called it. President Grant eased the chastisement by wishing they had more men like Brother Black.

In the morning a council was held, and it was deemed wise to divide Captain Wimmer's company, to be handled to advantage, so they added 20 wagons to mine, giving me forty wagons and told us to go. We prospered. On the 2nd of October we landed in Salt Lake City.

I had worked hard for Brother Leonard and conducted his business successfully and looked. for some remuneration, but he felt that he had done me a great favor in bringing my family. I threatened to sue him for my wages. He appealed to President Young, and I agreed to abide by President Young's decision. President Grant voluntarily appeared in my behalf and insisted that I should have at least three hundred dollars, but President Young said quietly to me: "You are young and strong and can live without the $300, but if Brother Leonard is required to pay that amount it will kill him dead, for he worships his gold. He is rich, and we need his help in sending some missionaries to China. If you forgive without recompense his heart will be warm and he will give liberally to the mission, and the Lord will bless you."

I saw the wisdom of this counsel and accepted it. In those days we were necessitated to haul with ox teams our tithing grain from remote parts of the territory, and we aimed to do that freighting so as to be at the general conference. Fortunately I met several teams from Sanpete, and as the trouble with Brother Leonard compelled me to stay a few days I got Amasa Marion to take Margaret and the children to Manti with him.

Here it is proper to say that Margaret had been baptized. She also knew that I had married Amy Jane and was prepared to meet the new conditions my actions had brought to us. She accepted cheerfully her share of increased responsibilities that plural marriage brings to all who enter into it. I desire to pay tribute to Margaret. All the rest of her life she was a real mother and helpmate in my large family.

After conference, when the Leonard trouble was settled, Brother Beal, who was rich enough to own a horse team, gave me a seat in his carriage. Without a cent in my pocket I reached Manti, where father Washburn and family and friends gave me a hearty welcome, and Amy Jane placed in my arms little Tamer, the first fruits of my conversion to the Gospel. Father Washburn, wishing to confine himself to his trade of tanning and shoemaking, offered to take me in as a partner, to look after the farm and other labors that came to us. I accepted the offer, and after resting two days I took an ox team and went to logging for a home. I had a wagon bed and a dugout in the side of the hill near where the Temple now stands. Margaret and Amy Jane lived together cheerfully and our lives were happy and contented.

July 19, 1853, the Walker War commenced, and on October fourth, John E. Warner and William Mills were killed near our grist mill while brother Mills was on duty as watchman or day guard. That morning brother Mills, needing firewood, took his team with him, and it is supposed that brother Warner filled the hopper with wheat, started the mill, then went a short distance around a point to a grove of timber to help load the wood when the Indians surprised and killed them. The wants of the people required the running of the mill and no one else understood the business. Martin Wood and myself were called to run it night and day until the people were supplied with flour. Two men were put on guard in the day time and twelve at night. This continued until the first of November when grinding ceased and we quit guarding entirely to rest a few days, then we intended to pull the mill down and move it into town, but the Indians were evidently watching us, for on the sixth of November the mill was burned and everything pertaining to it was lost.

At that time Hamilton and Baxter were building a grist mill at Nephi. I moved Amy Jane to Nephi and worked for them during the winter. In the spring of 1854 I rented their mill for five years. I brought Margaret from Manti and we had the family together again. All my life when conditions would permit I kept my families together. In union there is strength in families as well as nations.

On 26 October 1859 I married Annie Marie Hansen. In the spring of 1860 my lease was up on the Nephi mill. I formed a partnership with Bernard Snow and I moved to Ephraim in Sanpete Valley and helped Mr. Snow build a saw mill and we also built a large flour mill. In all these labors I was blessed. I had a good home and a good farm at this time; the valuation of taxable property was six thousand dollars. I was happy and contented.

In the spring of 1865 my aged mother with my brother, Benjamin, his wife, Mary Ann, and my youngest sister Catherine and her husband, William F. Hite, came by team and covered wagon all the way from Bridgeport, Lawrence, Illinois, our old home, to visit with me and my sister Rachel Van Vleet who with her husband lived at Beaver. My sister, Catherine had three fine boys, Benjamin and his wife had four little girls.

At the spring conference in 1865 some families were called to go to Circle Valley and start a settlement. My name headed, the list with a special charge to build a grist mill. Circle Valley was looked upon as a favored spot, and a rapid influx of settlers followed the call. A county was organized and a central city laid out. Edward Fulton was appointed District Judge and I was elected county prosecuting attorney. I hate leaving so soon after my mother and brother and sister had arrived but it was thought advisable for them to stay in Fort Ephraim where they could get work until the next spring when they would join us. My sister Rachel and her husband, Charles Van Vleet, moved to Circle Valley and we had hopes of our family being close again. Then came the great tragedy of the Black Hawk War with its suffering and sorrow. On the 17th of October 1865 seven men from Fort Ephraim went up the canyon to get loads of wood when they were ambushed by Indians. My brother Benjamin was among the first killed at the onslaught. William Hite ran down the canyon and was within sight of the Fort when he was killed out on the Wire Grass Flat. Four men were killed close to where my brother lay, the others along the canyon and close to the fort.

The following is a quote from Indian Depredations by Gottfredson, page 173:

“On Saturday, October 18th, a small body of men from Manti and Ephraim went up the canyon after the bodies of those who had been killed by Indians the previous day. They brought the body of Benjamin Black down to where Soren Jesperson lay. The rescuing party placed the bodies of the two men on a two wheeled logging cart. They went all the way down the canyon pulling the cart by hand. When they got to Wire Grass Flat they picked up the body of William Hite and brought them into town.”

Continuing William Morley Black’s autobiography:

The same day these seven men were killed, a family by the name of Kuhre was killed out in the fields. They had a little boy two years old who was not harmed. He ran to his mother's dead body and was seen by some of the town men. A few years ago this child, now an old man, erected a monument in Ephraim to those who were killed by Indians that day, in memory of his parents. The names of Benjamin Black and William F. Hite are both on this monument.

During this time the settlers of Circle Valley were in a state of siege. I was unable to go to my mother and my sisters in our mutual grief. We had raised a crop of wheat but were unable to get it to Manti to have it ground into flour so we boiled the wheat or ground it in coffee mills. All labor was paralyzed. Every able bodied man was enrolled and had to take his turn in looking after our stock or in guarding the town.

In the early spring of 1866 word came to me that my mother and my sister and sister-in-law were determined to go back to their home in Illinois. I managed to get to Fort Ephraim to try to dissuade them but they were discouraged and unable to make the adjustment after their terrible tragedy so I did what I could to help them. My sister Rachel and her husband were there to see them off. Arrangements were made for them to travel with a company going back East. We saw them leave with deep sorrow in our hearts. We had tried to give them the gift of the Gospel but none of them wanted it; they felt bitter about what had happened to them.

My sister Catherine had come with three fine boys. One of them lay in the little cemetery, dead of scarlet fever, two of Mary Ann's little girls had died of the same thing, both husbands lay dead, killed by cruel Indians. Mary Ann, my brother's widow, was expecting another baby soon but still they would not stay. What a day of sorrow that was! To bid them good-bye, never to see them again in this life, and knowing as I did the rigors of the long trip back home. Mail service was slow; not for many months did we learn that when they got to Fort Washikee in Wyoming Mary Ann was not able to go farther. She insisted mother and Catherine go on with the company without her. Her baby was born there but lived but a few weeks. She worked to support herself and girls for some time, then married a soldier named Huftile.

Mother and Catherine got as far as Council Bluffs. There they sold their team and wagon and went by boat down the river to St. Louis, where one of our cousins met them and took them home. Mother lived for years, always a true Baptist. She was buried beside my father in the old grave yard in Bridgeport.

My sister Catherine married again, but more of that later.
* * * * * * * * * * *

The Indian trouble in Circle Valley continued for about two years, then President Young advised breaking up and abandoning the exposed settlement. In April of 1867 we moved from Circle Valley and went to Beaver. Not finding employment I spent the month of June in peeling tanbark in company with my brother-in-law, Charles Van Vleet. We hauled tanbark to Parowan, 45 miles, exchanging it for produce, harness and leather. Then I found work in the Beaver grist mill owned by Thompson and Stewart. Finally I rented the mill for four years. I built up a good trade so I prospered and bought two city lots and built a comfortable brick dwelling house at a cost of $2000. Then came a call for me to go to Dixie, in the Southern country, and take charge of President Snow's grist mill at Washington. I responded promptly to the call although I dreaded it. Dixie was not a wheat growing country and my trade prospered when the wheat supply was abundant. I moved my wife Maria to Washington, leaving my other families at Beaver. But I wasn't content in having the families separated. It wasn't long until I sold out at Beaver and brought Margaret and Amy Jane to Washington.

I was broken up and unsettled in my feelings, and when my four year contract expired with President Snow I moved to Long Valley and took up a small farm above Glendale and associated my labors with Elders Joseph W. and John R. Young. In the spring of 1873 John R. received word that his brother, Joseph W. who was then President of St. George Stake, was very sick. I saddled a horse and went with John R. to St. George. We reached the bedside of the loved one in time to witness to him our deep affection, but could not turn away the shaft of death. We stayed by his side until he passed away and aided in placing the mortal remains in their last resting place. He was a lovable man and very dear to me. John R.'s heart was so full of sorrow that he wanted quiet and solitude. As we returned home, at Virgin Town we left the beaten road, and bearing northward plunged into the Kanarra forest. We climbed the mountain until we were at an elevation of 10,000 feet and there we found the breathing spring, so called because it ebbs and flows like the ocean tides.

In 1873 President Young visited Kanab. In considering the circumstances of the people he thought their greatest need was a grist mill, and in a public meeting he called John R. Young to build one. Brother Young prevailed on James A. Leathhead and myself to assist him. Brother Leathhead and I went into the forest and cut the timber while John R. with his boys and mine with our ox teams hauled it twenty-five miles to Kanab. It was a heavy stretch of sand dunes which had to be crossed, but every obstacle was surmounted. The mill was completed at a cost of six thousand dollars in labor and material.

In 1874 President Young and George A. Smith visited southern Utah and put forth their best efforts to organize the people into working companies called the United Order. Elder John H. Young was authorized to visit Kanab, Pireah, Mt. Carmel, and Glendale and establish working companies. To me the effect of these organizations was wonderful. Those who joined the order were consecrating all their wealth and they seemed baptized with a new zeal that filled their souls with energy, good will and brotherly love, while those who were opposed to it were filled with jealousy and hatred. The division and strife at Mount Carmel became so bitter that the Order people sold their homes, and choosing an uncultivated plat three miles north of Mt. Carmel laid out a town and named it Orderville. It grew so rapidly and attracted so much attention that President Young sent Howard 0. Spencer to preside over it. He was greatly beloved by his people, but in time he was superseded by Thomas Chamberlain, a young man of splendid financial abilities. He led the community from poverty to comfort, and under Brigham Young's watchful eye and council they were greatly prospered. I cast my lot with the Orderville community, consecrating my farm and teams and interest in the Kanab mill; in fact my worldly all was put in upon the altar, and I sacrificed in a cause that I believe was instituted for the good of the human family.

I was placed in charge of the boarding house with seven assistants. We prepared the food for the whole community, numbering at first two hundred souls. It soon increased to six hundred. We adopted system and method so that meals were served as regularly as clock work and on economic lines. The dining room was called "The Big Dining Room," no waste of substance, no wasted labor or time. Eight persons served breakfast to a hundred families the first year. I gave close attention to the management of the "Dining Room." The work was confining yet I was contented.

First of November 1869 I married Louisa Ann Washburn, a half sister of Amy Jane, my 2nd wife. She was several years younger than I and younger than the other wives. Even so we got along well together. My families lived together in Orderville with none to mar or make afraid. We had good schools and well attended meetings, indeed life there was a spiritual feast. In 1874 I married Sarah Marinda Thompson, the widow of George Spencer. She had four children when I married her.

In 1876 Samuel Mulliner joined the Order. He owned a grist mill at Lehi and I took Marinda and her children with me and stayed there for about two years running the mill for the Order. Then we returned to Orderville.

At this period the Orderville people were pulling through a financial strait. So many poor people had joined us that we were overloaded, and it was a difficult matter to provide clothing. To remedy this condition John R. and myself were authorized to rent sheep for the Order. We went to Cedar City, and after a week's negotiation with the directors of the Cedar City Co-op we rented six thousand head of ewes for two years. This laid the foundation of independence for us. The next important movement was the purchasing of the Glendale grist mill, and I was put in charge of it. At this date our prospects looked bright indeed. We owned a grist mill, a saw mill, a tannery, a thrashing machine, three flocks of sheep, a dairy, and our farms yielded one thousand bushels of wheat yearly. Our wisest men had been called to the front as directors. It was the matured wisdom of Brigham Young that stood as a beacon light to us and when that light went out we were like a ship that had lost its pilot. The sailors still remained but they were soon divided in council, and with division came weakness.

When the Order dissolved I moved to Huntington, Castle Valley, where I worked at Seeley Brothers' grist mill for three years. Then I spent one year playing hide and seek with the U. S. Marshal, but got tired of the play, so I took Louisa and the youngest family and skipped for old Mexico. passing through Rabbit Valley, and up the Sevier by Johnson's, I went with two teams, leaving Huntington 13 November 1888, then across the Buckskin mountain to Lee's Ferry where we crossed the Colorado River. The nights were cold but no storms. We passed up the little Colorado in Arizona where we lost our best horse in the quicksand crossing the river. This was quite a blow to us. I had purchased this fine stallion to keep up my horse herd and now he was gone and we needed him in our team. On the day before Christmas we reached St. Johns, Arizona, where my son, William G., lived with his wife, Lucretia, and her children. He was running the grist mill in St. Johns and we spent a pleasant week there with them, then we moved on. In Round Valley we met President David K. Udall and found employment for the winter in his grist mill.

In May 1889 I left Round Valley and landed on 4th June of the same year in Colonia Daiz, Chihuahua, Mexico. So here I was in a foreign land, not of choice but from necessity, in my own land a criminal, yet I had not injured a living soul. The law that makes me an outcast was enacted on purpose to convict me and all others of our faith like me, and was retroactive in its operation. To me it was largely unjust, which adds a sting to its cruelty, but what can't be cured must be endured. So I take as little of the medicine as possible and try to be contented and cheerful.

I reached Diaz Thursday morning. It was Fast Day so I went to Fast Meeting and was introduced to Joseph James, who was running a saw mill. Monday morning my son Parley and I with two teams went to hauling lumber, and stayed with it until November. I then received a letter from R. W. Stowell of Colonia Juarez wishing me to come and help get the machinery into his grist mill. I went at once and helped, then cared for the mill for three years, getting good wages and giving satisfaction to Brother Stowell.

Two of my wives had gone on to the other world but I still had two, Maria and Marinda, living in Huntington. As I said before I always tried to keep my families together so I wrote to Huntington asking them to join me. I realized it was a hard move for them to make, to leave everything they had ever known and come to a strange, hard land, but I wanted them with me. In the summer of 1890 I received word by mail that they were on the way with several teams in the company. Just before Christmas 1890 they came into Diaz, Mexico. They were a tired, discouraged bunch. Some of the horses were locoed, a crazy condition brought on by eating the loco weed which makes the horse almost useless for a long time if he ever gets to be any good again.

My son Parley and I had built a two roomed, Mexican adobe house with dirt roof. We hoped later to build better but it was all I could do to keep so many mouths filled. I met them there at Diaz and soon took Maria with me to Juarez where my work was. My wife Marinda and her son-in-law soon had an adobe house for her and I did what I could to help them.

In the spring of 1892 some Mexicans stole my horses and some others from Juarez. In company with Guy Taylor, John Bloomfield, and Brother Judd I followed them into Texas. The boys soon became discouraged and gave up the chase, but I followed the trail alone for three weeks; then I too gave up, deciding it better to lose my horses than to lose my life. On the way back to Juarez I stopped for a few days with my wife Louisa and her family and found them having a hard time to make a go of it. Parley was a big boy and they had two teams and wagons and I thought he could do fairly well for his mother but such was not the case. I could do nothing much to help at that time as I was out of money which was always hard to come by in that hard land.

When I returned to Juarez the mill had been rented to Brother Memmott, and I was out of work, but I soon found employment at Jackson's old mill near Cases Grandes. I had charge of it for two years until he built the new roller mill. During this time I had heard of the new Colony being built in the tops of the Sierra Madre Mountains and I decided to go have a look. I took Maria with me and we took up a farm on what looked like a likely place to build a grist mill. The spot was later called Middleton as it was half way between the new Colony, which they named Cave Valley because of the many ancient caves along the cliffs and hillsides which showed evidence of being ancient dwellings of some dead peoples, and the town of Pachco.

We soon discovered wheat did not do well in the mountains. The rains came just as the wheat was ready for harvest and it mildewed, making it unfit for flour. I couldn't make a living on the farm so I left and went back to the Valleys. Memmott gave me a position as superintendent in his new roller mill. I continued in this place until 1897 when I retired from the milling business.

In 1893 I had a severe blow when word came that my wife Louisa had loaded up her household goods and her children and gone back to the States. She had a new son born in 1893 whom I had never seen and I still have never seen him. I was heartsick at getting this word. I think I was much to blame but I was proud, and she left me so I didn't go after her.

Marinda had moved to the mountains and had a nice little home in Cave Valley close to her daughter by her first marriage and beside the two daughters of ours, Mary Belle and Amy. Both of them had married Carroll boys.

In 1897 there was to be a jubilee in Salt Lake City. Fifty years from the day the Mormons entered the Salt Lake Valley. I decided to go. I felt I had earned a rest and a vacation. It was forty eight years from the day I entered that same valley and was to me a great occasion. I spent the Fourth of July and Pioneer Day in Salt Lake City, watched the grand parade, and drank of joy and happiness until my soul was full. I glanced backwards forty eight years and saw myself dusty and travel stained passing through the little string town with its dirt roofed houses to our camp across the river on the Jordan commons. Today the City of the Saints stands a marvel and a wonder to the world. To me it is the new Jerusalem, the boon of the Latter days.

Leaving Salt Lake I went to Huntington and visited a host of my children who had homes there. Then I went to Beaver and visited my sweet sister Rachel. She was a dear sweet sister and it was our last visit. From Beaver I returned to Mexico and found employment in Father Stowell's pioneer grist mill for nearly two years. I attended the mill night and day but my best years were past, the evening of life was approaching. My lungs commenced bleeding, and one day I broke completely down. Father Stowell came to see me and pronounced my condition serious. He hurriedly brought Doctor Keits. They administered to me and the Doctor gave medicine that stopped the bleeding, but he forbade me working longer in the mill, so I parted with the labors that I loved and had followed most of my life. My son David came and took me to Pacheco, where I made my home with my wife Maria for two years. For exercise I worked in the garden with David or Morley. I rode the range helping to look after our stock.

In 1902 I visited my sons, John M., William G., and Benjamin D., and my daughters Martha Gale and Tamer Young and their families who were living at Fruitland, New Mexico. These people had a strong, rapidly growing ward there, and every effort was being made to buy out the non-Mormons who wished to sell. I went to a bank in Durango, Colorado, and borrowed $1100 and bought the McCartage ranch of forty acres, including four acres of fine bearing orchard. It was a good home and financially a good purchase, but my families had become so firmly anchored in Mexico, so many of the children had married and built up homes of their own. Margaret and Amy Jane had passed to the great beyond, placing the burden of caring for me upon Maria and Marinda. Most of their children had homes in Mexico and they were loath to leave. Under these conditions I regretted having purchased at Fruitland, and sold the property to Albert Gale, a grandson. During the three years that I held possession of it I crossed the desert from Fruitland to Gallup several times. Nothing of a thrilling nature occurred, but no one without actual experience can measure the amount of energy and endurance put forth in crossing; those sand dunes and waterless deserts.

While residing at Fruitland and just before returning to Mexico I attended the San Juan Conference at Mancos, Colorado. Apostle Matthias F. Cowley was in attendance, and on the 14th of May 1903 he ordained me a patriarch, and gave me a highly treasured blessing. My eldest son, Martin Luther, who had become estranged from his wife and family through no fault of his own, was the first I had the privilege of blessing in my capacity as a Patriarch. In the fall of 1905 I returned to Mexico. In the winter of 1906, in an attempt to mount a horse my gloved hand slipped from the horn of the saddle giving me a heavy fall, from the effect of which I suffered and had to be carefully nursed for months.

From 1906 to 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. At its completion it was paid for in full. I gathered my Pacheco family and friends and dedicated it as a dwelling house, Newel K. Young offering the dedicatory prayer.

When the rebel war broke out between Madera and Diaz it was understood by both parties that our people would remain neutral and they were assured they would not be disturbed. But when Huerta seized the reins of government and Caranza took the field as leader, conditions became so violent that President Taft advised all Americans to leave Mexico. Still the Mormon colonists hesitated, hoping the war would soon pass and peace return without their having to leave their homes. But it was not to be, the strife went on and robbing of our people became frequent by both parties. The Mormons were a hard working, industrious people and in their towns could be found all the necessities of war, good horses, plenty of food, clothes, good saddles made right in their own harness shop and from leather tanned in their own tannery, good shoes for soldiers who had never known what it was to have a decent pair of shoes. Property rights were not respected and we were afraid to leave the shelter of our homes. Even our milk cows were killed by passing bands for beef, our horses were run off, there was no peace for any of us. Conditions were becoming unbearable, some of the men were saying they would not put up with this marauding, there was constant danger of someone resisting and causing a general massacre of all the Mormons. To avoid that calamity it was deemed best to sacrifice our homes.

On the 28th of July 1912, just as our Sabbath meeting was closing, a messenger arrived and gave us notice that the entire community must be ready to leave by Tuesday morning. The shock and grief were beyond telling, some talked as though they would not leave. The consensus of opinion was that we would be back in a week and all day Monday people were rushing around, turning out their animals, chickens, pigs, and sheep, as well as cows, so they could find feed on the hills. The dishes were left in cupboards, some even laid the fire in the cook stoves so they could set a match to it and cook the day's meal with no extra bother. Monday night came and for a few there was rest; some tossed and tumbled all night, wondering what the future might hold for them. Tuesday morning dawned bright and clear. All accepted it as a good omen and the pilgrimage started on a cheerful mood. My son, David P., was made captain to guide and direct the movement of the company. Twenty-two wagons were loaded, all crowded full with the aged and the young, but mostly with women and children, as many of the men were staying to look after the stock.

Promptly at seven in the morning the train started to move. At Porter's we met the people from Correlles. We paused for prayer and sang the song "God Be With You Till We Meet Again." As we looked back over our homes, the sun shone on the houses making them look like houses from a fairy tale. The little town surrounded by hills and towering pine trees was home for many of these people. For twenty years they had spent their life's entire energy here; now they were leaving it. If we had known most of us would never again see many of the men and boys who were staying behind, our grief would have been much more keen.

Then commenced in earnest the hard day's drive to Pearson. Nine miles out, in Arch Flat, the scouts saw a company of Rebel cavalry coming and David stopped us and had the teamsters pull the wagons as close together as possible. Only David's tact and knowledge of the Spanish language kept us from having real trouble there. After demanding our arms and ammunition and half our horses the Captain promised we would not be further molested. They took our best horses, leaving us with only enough teams to pull half the wagons.* We thought we were crowded before but now we had to pile in as best we could. The young people walked most of the way until we came to the top of the mountain. Then we could go with ease, there was no more pulling for the horses, and we drove on into Pearson in the very late evening.

* Thirty years later some of the men returned to Mexico and saw those old wagons wrecked and falling apart, still sitting at Arch Flats.

The inhabitants of Pearson had abandoned their homes, and they were thrown open to us and we found a grateful shelter for the night. On Wednesday, the 31st of July we were put on the cars (train) at Pearson. There was a limited number of cars and in order to take all of the refugees the cars were packed to the uttermost limit of their carrying capacity. About 10 a.m. the cars moved with their load of human freight and about 5:00 p.m. we reached Ciudad Juarez. We passed the custom house and arrived in El Paso. There was a welcoming committee and they told us they were taking us to a lumber camp two miles from town. As we were getting Into the vehicles Harry Payne came and said, "Father Black, the lumber camp is no place for you, you must go to better quarters." I replied. "I must go for I have no money to go anywhere else." He leaned forward and whispered, "I remember seeing your name on the tithing record, and you are going to be cared for."

Apostle Ivins came and talked kindly to 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 William H. Taft for the prompt appropriation of the very sufficient sum of $100,000 to be used in giving aid to the American refugees who were expelled from Mexico. Of those people about 4000 were Latter-day Saints, and the hearts of all were gladdened by the generous assistance.

I append an invoice of property I left in Mexico, the fruits of 25 years:Brick house and lot in Pacheco, value $1,400.00
Fifty bearing fruit trees 350.00
Field fence and 25 acres cultivated land 1,450.00
Barn 28 x 60 ft., granary and outbuildings 150.00
Growing crops on 25 acres 900.00
Furniture, stove, dishes, bedding, trunks,
sewing machine, family pictures, books, provisions 470.00
34 chickens, 2 pigs, 9 milk cows 460.00
8 head range cattle 130.00
2 horses, wagon and double harness 465.00
2 wells 50.00
Total $5,845.00

On the 10th of August Maria and I were furnished a railroad pass that would take us to Price, Utah. There was sorrow mixed with joy when we parted with our friends and fellow sufferers, the colonists. We went to Mexico for a common cause, and for twenty-five years we had toiled together and had become endeared to each other by the sacrifice we had made, and as a finishing touch to our experiences we had drunk together from the bitter cup of expulsion from our homes.

A two days ride on the cars and we landed in the evening of the 12th at Price. Our first act was to phone to our children at Huntington to let them know of our arrival. Then we went with Brother Oliver Harmon and were kindly entertained. The next morning before daylight Isaac and Maggie arrived and we were safe in the arms of our own dear children. Thanking Brother and Sister Harmon for their kindness we were soon on the road to Huntington, our old home nest, where many of the children still reside. We were driven directly to our son Miller's where a multitude of children and grandchildren were waiting to greet us. We stayed with Miller two and a half months and then went to Isaac's at Ferron and stayed six weeks, and then returned to Huntington and stayed six weeks with Martin L., and then returned to Isaac's and stayed the rest of the winter and spring.

In June 1913 we went to Richfield and stayed until the 19th of July, excepting a short visit to Monroe and Redmond to see the Washburn family and Maria's sister, Mrs. Chris Brienholt, getting back to Huntington in time to join in celebrating Pioneer Day, the 24th of July.

In August I passed through a severe spell of sickness and for several days and weeks lay near the point of death. Previous to this our son Joseph, his wife and two children, came from Hayden, Idaho, to visit us. We also had a visit from my son Parley of Caliente, Nevada. I felt gratified at these marks of affection shown us by children who had been separated from us for so many years. The expulsion from our home was almost forgotten in the joy we found in meeting so many affectionate and loving children. It made me feel that while I may have been a failure financially, yet I had the power and the blessing to found a patriarchal family and name that shall last in Israel after I have passed away, and that knowledge comforts me.

October 1st Maria and I took the train at Price for Thornson Springs, then went by auto (the mail) to Moab where David took us with team and spring wagon to Grayson, leaving us at my daughter Hattie Guymon's, where we were warmly greeted by another host of children and grandchildren. Here I feel it appropriate to say that Charley, Miller, Joseph, Walter, and Lona Porter furnished the money for these trips. We were also helped by Anton Nielsen, David Brienholt, A. B. Hardy, B. D. Black, William L. Young, and Tamar B. Young. May the Lord bless them.

Following is a list of my wives and children:
Married 1st – 5 Feb. 1847 MARGARET RUTH BANKS, b. 20 Jan. 1829 Canton, Fulton, Ill., d. 29 June 1884 daughter of Nathaniel Banks and Barbara Artman.

Children:
IV 1. Martin Luther Black, b. 16 Feb. 1848 Canton, Fulton, Ill.; married 1st – 26 Aug. 1868 Mary Caroline Lee; married 2nd – l4 April 1910 Sarah E1iza Pulsipher. (Sariah Pulsipher)

IV 2. Martha Jane Black, b. 24 Sept. 1849 Canton, Fulton, Ill.; married George Gale.

IV 3. Mary Elizabeth Black, b. 8 Jan. 1853 Manti, Sanpete, Utah, d. infant, twin.

IV 4. Olive Black, b. 8 Jan. 1853 Manti, Sanpete, Utah, d. infant, twin.

IV 5. William Black, b. 3 Dec. 1854 Manti, Sanpete, Utah, d. infant.

IV 6. John Morley Black, b. 27 Dec. 1856 Nephi, Juab, Utah, d. 19 April 1933; married 1st - 1 Feb. 1877 Thressa Elnora Cox; married 2nd - 25 Feb. 1880 Hariett Marinda Spencer.

IV 7. Isaac Edwin Black, b. 29 Dec. 1857 Nephi, Juab, Utah; married 1st - 22 Feb. 1877 Nancy Ester Allen; married 2nd - 10 Oct. 1885 Elvina Hansina Olsen.

IV 8. George Henry Black, b. 8 March 1861 Nephi, Juab, Utah; married Martha Minerva Washburn.


Married 2nd – Feb. 1851 AMY JANE WASHBURN, b. 28 July 1832 Westchester Co., N.Y. daughter of Abraham Washburn and Tamer Washburn.

Children:
IV 1. Tamer Jane Black, b. 1 May 1852 Manti, Sanpete, Utah; married John Ray Young

IV 2. Sarah Amelia Black, b. 13 July 1854 Manti, Sanpete, Utah., d. 1 Feb. 1950; married 15 July 1872 Lorenzo Sabriska Young.

IV 3. William Grant Black, b. 11 Jan. 1857 Nephi, Juab, Utah; married 15 Feb. 1878 Lucretia Jane Maxwell.

IV 4. Benjamin Daniel Black, b. 21 July 1859 Nephi, Juab, Utah, d. 7 Jan.1945; married 1st - 21 Feb. 1879 Annie Ozana Porter; married 2nd - 12 Dec. 1879 Susan Louisa Palmer; married 3rd - 26 Dec. 1884 Annie Alice Baldwin.

IV 5. Mary Ann Black, b. 24 Oct. 1861 Ephraim, Sanpete, Utah, d. 10 Oct. 1880; married 12 Dec. 1879 James William Palmer.

No Children

IV 6. Eva Black, b. 3 Aug. 1866 Beaver, Beaver, Utah, d. 10 Aug.1950; married 25 Dec. 1883 James William Palmer.

IV 7. Charles Theodore Black, b. 28 March 1864 Ephraim, Sanpete, Utah, d. 8 Feb.1924; married 1 Oct. 1886 Mary Magdaline Stolworthy.

IV 8. Margaret Ellen Black, b. 10 Jan. 1869 Beaver, Beaver, Utah; married Samuel James Rowley.

IV 9. Orson Pratt Black, b. 15 Oct. 1871 Washington, Washington, Utah, d. 26 Dec.1946; married 25 Sept. 1894 Clara Ann Theodore Mary Axell.


Married 3rd -- 26 Oct. 1859 ANNIE MARIE HANSEN, b. 18 Nov. 1840 Egtved, Diele, Denmark, d. 9 March 1920, daughter of Anders Hansen and Ablone Knudsen.

Children:
IV 1. Joseph Andrew Black, b. 18 Sept. 1861 Ephraim, Sanpete, Utah, d. 20 Jan.1940; married 3 Feb. 1883 Johanna Oberhansley.

IV 2. Rachel Ann Black, b. 8 March 1863 Ephraim, Sanpete, Utah, d. 5 May 1906; married 23 April 1879 Warriner Ahaz Porter.

IV 3. Olive Myrtle Black, b. 20 July 1865 Circle Valley, Piute, Utah, d. 19 Oct.1949; married 7 Dec. 1881 James William Palmer.

IV 4. William Black, b. 10 Oct. 1867 Circle Valley, Piute, Utah, d infant.

IV 5. Miller Snow Black, b. 27 Feb. 1869 Orderville, Kane, Utah, d. 17 Dec.1953; married 4 Feb. 1892 Susan Julia Sherman.

IV 6. Harriet Black, b. 18 Sept. 1871 Orderville, Kane, Utah; married 25 Sept. 1889 Willard Richard Guymon.

IV 7. David Patten Black, b. 10 Feb. 1874 Glendale, Kane, Utah; married 1st - 10 Dec. 1892 Theda Kartchner; married 2nd - 25 Nov.1900 Elzada Kartchner.

IV 8. Morley Larsen Black, b. 24 Oct. 1875 Orderville, Kane, Utah, d. 6 Sept.1951; married 1st - 26 Oct. 1896 Lydia Ellen Porter; married 2nd - Rachel Ann Lunt.

IV 9. Ablonna Black, b. 6 April 1880 Orderville, Kane, Utah;, married 1st - Walter A. Porter (divorced).

No Children

married 2nd - 25 Dec.1920 William Chapple, b. 27 July 1886 Ogden, Utah, son of William George Chapple and Sarah Jane Blakely.

Children:

IV 1. Avalon Chapple, b. 2 Sept.1923 Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Calif, d. 2 Sept.1923.

IV 2. Marge Loreen Chapple, b. 26 Jan. Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Calif., married 2 April 1944 Delbert Grant Eccles, b. 6 Dec. 1920 Baker, Baker, Oregon, son of John Hutchinson Eccles and Hannah Davis.

Children:

VI 1. Laurel Ann Eccles, b. 13 July 1946 AIhambra, Los Angeles, Calif twin, d. same day.

VI 2. Carol Ann Eccles, b. 13 July 1946 Alhambra, Los Angeles, Calif., twin, d. same day.

VI 3. Sharon Lourene Eccles, b. 30 March 1948 Altadena, Los Angeles, Calif.

I married 4th a very charming and lovely girl. Why she consented to go into plural marriage with me and my already big family I will never know.

Married 4th EMMA LANNETTE RICHARDSON, b. 31 Oct. 1841 Granville, Washington, N.Y., d. 7 June 1921, daughter of Edmund Richardson and Mary Ann Darrow.

Children:

IV 1. William Black, d. age four and a half in Circle Valley.

IV 2 Daniel Black, d. age three; both died the same day.

After the death of her two little boys she could not stand the strain of plural marriage longer and she left me and returned to her parents. Later she married a man by the name of Conover.


Married 5th - LOUISA ANN WASHBURN, b. 29 Sept. 1851 Tolland, Berkshire, Mass., d. 26 May 1904, daughter of Abraham Washburn and Florence Clarinda Gleason.

Children:
IV 1. William Washburn Black, b. 7 Nov. Manti, Sanpete, Utah, May 1884.

IV 2. Cathern Amelia Black, b. 29 Jan. 1873 Glendale, Kane, Utah, d. 25 Feb. 1873.

IV 3. Parley Pratt Black, b.23 March 1875, Glendale, Kane, Utah, d. 15 March 1948; married 1st - 18 Feb. 1899 Dorcas Everett; married 2nd - 8 Dec.1918 Florence Gripp.

IV 4.Calista Black, b. 3 Nov. 1876 Kanab, Kane, Utah, d. 5 Aug.1955 married 27 Sept. 1896 Robert Peel.

IV 5. Etta Clarinda Black, b. 19 Feb. 1880 Glendale, Kane, Utah, married 19, Feb. 1899 Willis Abraham Webb.

IV 6. Edward Webb Black, b. 19 Dec. 1881 Orderville, Kane, Utah, married 20 Dec.1905 Sarah Ellen Holyoak.

IV 7. Lola Loraine Black, b. 14 Nov. 1885 Huntington, Emery, Utah; married 1st 8 Oct. 1904 Rufus Mullenaux; married 2nd - 29 March 1947 James Drummond.

IV 8. Ella Savilla Black, b. 6 Jan. 1888 Huntington, Emery, Utah, d. 15 Feb.1926; married 4 Aug. 1905 Van Amberg Talley.

IV 9. Junius Exile Black, b. 30 June 1893 Colonia Diaz, Chih, Mexico, married 1st - 1 Jan. 1913 Mary Williams; married 2nd - 23 Jan. 1923 Carrie Holmes.

Married 6th - SARAH MARINDA THOMPSON, b. 25 Sept. 1841 Macidonia, Hancock, Ill., d. 10 July,19l4 (she was a widow of George Spencer), daughter of Samuel Thompson and Mary Anderson.

Children:

IV 1. Mary Belle Black, b. 18 April 1875 Glendale, Kane, Utah, d. 30 June 1955; married 23 Jan. 1894 James Franklin Carroll.

IV 2. Amy Jane Black, b. 21 June 1877 Orderville, Kane, Utah; married 27 June 1894 Thomas Moulton Carroll, b. 27 Oct. 1874 Heber, Utah, son of Willard Carroll and Charlotte Moulton.

IV 3. Eliza Roxie Black, b. 18 Dec. 1880 Orderville, Kane, Utah, d. 14 Dec. 1891.

IV 4. Lewis Almon Black, b. 5 Mar. 1884 Orderville, Kane, Utah, d. 6 Mar. 1884.

ADOPTED:

IV 1. Isabella Ray Carroll, b. 12 Nov. 1896 Mexico; married 1st - 3 Nov. 1916 Stanley L. Evans, b. 1 April 1897 Salt Lake City, son of William Evans and Gunnild Diana Gundersen.

Children:

VI 1. Ray Carroll Evans, b. 17 June 1917 Salt Lake City.

VI 2. Marie Evans, b. 23 March 1920 Blanding, San Juan, Utah; married Fred Hyland Gagon, b. 11 Mar.1918 Hartland, Utah, son of Ira David Gagon and Mary Smith.

Children:

VII 1. Richard Earl Gagon, b. 25 Dec.1937, Los Angeles, Calif.

VII 2. Utahna Marie Gagon, b. Dec. 4 1939, Los Angeles, Calif.

VII 3. Ira David Gagon, b. 9 Sept.1941 Los Angeles, Calif

VII 4. Sharon Ellien Gagon, b. 15 Mar.1944, Los Angeles, Calif.

VII 5. Fred Hyland Gagon, b. 2 Jan.1946 Phoenix, Arizona.

VII 6. Carol Ann Gagon, b. 19 July 1947 Roosevelt, Utah

IV 1. Isabella Ray Carroll married 2nd - Wesley Webb.

Children:

VI 1. Martha Amy Webb, b. 1 May 1931 Los Angeles, Calif.; married Wilbur Dickson Gouvela in Honolulu son of Joseph Gouvela and Angela Weight.

Children:

VII 1. Alani Dickson Gouvela, b. 21 May Los Angeles, Calif.

The last of the story of the life of William Morley Black was written by his son-in-law, John R. Young, and is as follows:



At John R. Young's house February 9, 1914, several gentlemen, some of them strangers to us and not of our faith, in conversation with Father Black, asked if he had ever been sorry that he joined the Mormon Church. With great earnestness he testified that after baptism he received a testimony that Joseph Smith was a Prophet of God; that he lived and died a righteous man, and that testimony had stayed undimmed with him until the present day.



Tuesday evening, February 10, the Ward teachers visited us. During the visit Father Black arose and testified, "I know that God lives, and that Joseph Smith was and is a true prophet, and I know that his life's labors were approved by the Father, and that Joseph has received a crown of glory as a reward for his faithfulness, and I want this testimony incorporated with what follows:



"Feeling grateful to my Heavenly Father for his leading me to a knowledge of the Gospel of His Son which has brought to me an ordination to the Patriarchal priesthood and by it I have received the blessing of wives and numerous posterity, and that my children may know that I am humbly proud and thankful for these blessings.”



William Morley Black signed this testimony and the story of his life on his eighty-eighth birthday in the presence of the following:



Witnessed by:



Maria H. Black, his only living wife

Warner R. Porter

Tamer B. Young

Eva B. Palmer (she wrote most of this in long-hand, day by day as he told it to her).

Alice B. Black

Hattie B. Guymon

Nellie P. Black

Annie P. Young

Cynthia P. Young

Rea Young

Louisa B. Black









John Ray Young writes this:



I certify that I have made a true copy of the names who witnessed William Morley Black sign this sketch with his own hand.



John R. Young,

Amanuensis



Patriarch William M. Black died at 4 o'clock a.m. at the home of his daughter Tamer Young 21 June 1915 at Blanding, San Juan, Utah.



230

BLACK, WILLIAM MORLEY, 1826-1915

Journal (1826-1914)



Typescript. 28 pp. BYU [Lee Library] (M270 M82 vol. 1 1); UHi [Ut St Hist Soc] (Man A74)

Retrospective. Early life in Ohio. Family moved to Illinois. Apprenticed as mason. Married, 1846. Elected

sheriff, 1848. Resigned to join gold rush, 1849. Visited Nauvoo; saw Icarians. Journey to Utah. Impressions of Salt Lake City and Mormons. Baptized. Remained in Salt Lake.



Called to settle Sanpete, 1850. Married Amy Jane Washburn as plural wife, 1851. Returned east for first family. Baptism of first wife. Built log house at Manti. Guarded mill against Indians. Worked at Nephi, Ephraim, Circleville. Elected prosecuting attorney. Moved to Beaver. Worked in tannery. Worked building grist mills at Kanab. Moved family to Orderville. Married Louisa Washburn, 1871.



Failure of Orderville. Moved families to Huntington. Hounded by U.S. marshals. Settled at Colonia Juarez, Mexico, 1889. Visited Utah, 1897. Ordained patriarch, 1903. Forced to leave Mexico during revolution. Assistance from Church and U.S. government.



Visited children and relatives. List of wives and children. Testimonies. Patriarchal blessings. Note of author's death at Blanding, Utah, 1915.