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Show 11 The United Order at Bunkerville I N FEBRUARY 1874 Dudley brought a part of his family to St. George to attend conference, for Brother Brigham was to be present. The townpeople had made great preparations. They had cleared the sidewalks of weeds, swept yards, and cleaned their homes. Everywhere were newly whitewashed walls and fresh straw under rag carpets. For weeks ahead women had been preparing their clothes, making new bonnets and knitting stockings. Groups of boys went out to clear the road from town to the Black Ridge. Oldtimers said that some of the men took some twenty or thirty dimes and put them under rocks along the way, so that the laboring boys would get some little reward. The discovery of a dime would set the whole crew working with renewed vigor and accelerate the road cleaning greatly. On the day of Brigham Young's arrival, crowds thronged the streets, eager for a glimpse of their beloved Prophet. James Andrus, on a fine horse, rode up and down the waiting lines. A large banner stretched across the street proclaimed a welcome in foot-high letters. A group of little girls in white dresses held arms full of fruit blossoms to strew in the way of the carriage. No king ever received a more ardent homage. When at last the carriage arrived, Brigham Young arose, lifted his hat, and bowed to the right and left at the assembled people. One young woman who had been standing in line all forenoon said, "Is that all he is going 126 The United Order at Bunkerville to do? It looks like he might at least have stopped the carriage and spoke to us." An elderly lady nearby overheard the remark. "My child," she said in a reproving tone, "don't you know that you have seen the Prophet of the Living God?" This was Dudley's attitude. In his eyes, Brigham Young could not err. Whatever Brother Brigham advised, Dudley was glad to try to do. That is why, at the meeting in the Tabernacle the next day, he did not doubt the wisdom of the counsel given. He knew that, for him, it would be more satisfying to follow it. President Young left no question in the minds of his listeners as to what he wanted done. They should stay and build up the waste places of Zion and strengthen the Kingdom of God instead of racing off to mining camps because there were higher wages there. They should stay on their farms and sell their produce to those who wished to work in the mines; they should not desert their land, nor should they waste their time prospecting. "Turn your attention to the building of the Kingdom of God," he told them, "that is your mission." Then he called for a showing of the hands of those who were willing to abide by his counsel. Dudley raised his hand in the pledge. And he kept it. Many years later he thought he found what he called, "The Lost Lead," a rich vein of ore which has since become legendary. He said the eyes of his vision were opened and he saw this vein of ore running perpendicular through the mountain containing wealth untold. It was somewhere in the Bull Valley district. Though he thought he had marked the place and though the samples of ore which he took from it assayed a high percentage of gold, he never again could find it. In his later years he used to say, "God is saving the wealth of those mountains until the day His people will need it. Then it will be discovered and its riches used to build up Zion." For the time being he returned to his place on the creek, satisfied that he was fulfilling his part in the Great Design. On the Ragged Edge 127 At Gunlock the families continued to live well so far as food was concerned, though they did not have a great deal of money. They raised all they needed and they learned how to preserve it. They made peach preserves by the barrel, washing the fuzz from the clingstones and dropping them into the molasses when it was about half done. The fruit and syrup were cooked together to make an excellent preserve. They dried corn, peas and beans, and even large circles of pumpkins. The families got along. One of his daughters, Mary Jane, said, Father never quarreled with his wives. I have heard them at different times get angry and scold him, but he usually ignored it. He would take one of the babies on his knee and bounce it and sing an Indian song, or he would joke with her. If he could not win her over, he would walk out. My sympathies were always with father, as I believe all the other children's were. When my own mother got to scolding him, I used to think that if I were in his place, I'd . . . well, I'd kick her a mile! Another said, Nobody ran father's business, and nobody ran father. He had five wives, and they would all have liked to manage him, but they couldn't. He treated them all the same. None of them had any right to be jealous. I never did hear the wives have any fuss. And I never heard father quarrel with his wives, any of them. And so their comments go. Jeremy, speaking of the home relations, always said, The only difference that I could see was that I had three mothers instead of one. I was never at Martha's or Janet's much, but at Aunt Mary's and Aunt Thir-za's I was as much at home as in my own mother's house. One time I was sick at Aunt Mary's and no child ever got more tender care than I did. The thing t h a t they all speak of most often was his great faith and his power over sickness. Medora tells 128 The United Order at Bunkerville how as she was going to the creek one day for water she heard her father's voice as though he were talking to some other man. Looking through the willows she saw him on his knees talking to God in a simple, straightforward manner, asking His protection and blessing on a son that he felt was in danger. It was his implicit trust in God that impressed itself most upon them all. While at Gunlock the saddest accident in the history of the family happened. Little George, eight-year-old son of Mary, was walking across a log over the stream just above the water wheel which ran the mill. He missed his footing, fell into the water, and was carried into the wheel. There was no way to get him out and no way to stop the wheel but to turn the water out of the ditch above. In the meantime, he was crushed and mangled and many of his bones broken. His father got him out, carried him to the house, and laid him on the bed. Then kneeling beside him, Dudley placed his hands on the child's head and dedicated him to the Lord, asking God to take him peacefully and not to permit him to suffer more. In less than an hour the child was dead. During the years at Gunlock, from their return there in 1872, the family had little trouble with the Indians. One winter as the band passed they left an old squaw to die. It was their custom to just go on and leave the old and blind to follow as they could. This old woman was nearly two days behind the band and without any chance of catching up with them. Dudley fixed her a good solid wigwam of willows, covered it with bark, and banked it up around the bottom. Mary Ellen says: "The boys chopped her wood and we carried food to her. We never thought of eating a meal until we had taken the old squaw hers. We kept her all winter and when spring came, and it got warm, the tribe came back and took her with them." There was one Indian in the neighborhood of whom they were afraid. This was old Watermann. He delighted to frighten the children and would sometimes take the lunches from the little boys when they were out herding the cows. If the children saw him when they were away On the Ragged Edge 129 from home, they would run up into the rocks or willows to hide. Watermann had a dog of which he was very fond. The coyotes had become such a menace to Dudley's chickens that he decided to put out some poisoned meat. He went to Watermann and told him what he was doing. "You keep your dog tied up at night, and I will take the meat away in the morning. Then the dog will not get it," Dudley said. Watermann did not heed the warning, and his dog died. In a rage he came to Dudley. He found him working at his forge shaping some iron. The Indian stepped to the door, his bow drawn, the arrow aimed at Dudley's heart. "See, Wamptun, how quick I could send you to the Happy Hunting Ground," he said, threateningly. Like a flash, Dudley leaped at him, grasped him by the throat, and thrust the red hot iron near his face. "You see, Watermann, how quick I could send you to the Happy Hunting Ground," he answered. When the Indian found that Dudley was not to be frightened, he listened to reason. Dudley reminded him of the flour and meat he had given him and insisted that he wanted to be friendly. That was why he had warned him about tieing up the dog. Watermann left but was still sulky. Not long after this, when Dudley had gone to Santa Clara, three of the boys, Dudley, Jr., Wier, and their cousin Ed, were camping at the lower field under a big cottonwood tree. They were in bed, when they saw Watermann approaching with a hatchet upraised in his hand. With yells of fear, they clamored out of bed and started to run wildly down the creek. They were boys twelve and fourteen years old, and their first thought was to get to their father. It was nearly daylight before they arrived where he was staying with his brother Lemuel. They had come twelve miles. When Dudley heard their story he got on a horse and went back to Gunlock. He got Watermann by the nape of the neck and kicked him soundly. "If you ever touch one of my children, I'll beat your brains out," he threatened. 130 The United Order at Bunkerville In telling of it, Watermann said, rubbing his rear dubiously, "Wamptun Tunghi, he kick-a-my ass," an expression which became a byword among the people. Soon after this incident, Dudley called all the Indians together at his home. Standing on a log, he preached to them in their native tongue. "I have always been your friend," he said. "I have given you much flour and meat. You steal from me; you frighten my children. If you keep on this way, I will send a letter to the Big Father and tell him, and he will kill you all. He will send sickness like the big plague you had a long time ago, and wipe you all out." Thoroughly frightened the Indians promised to do better and to be "To-wich-a-weino Tickaboo." Then Dudley, to show his good faith, fed them on barbecued beef and gave them some corn and squash to take home with them. Early in 1877 a group decided to move further down onto the Virgin River and set up a community where they could live the United Order. Edward Bunker was in charge of the enterprise, and Dudley's brother Lemuel was going with him. Dudley decided to go, too, but he could not take all his family at once. His older boys were now grown young men, ready to make homes of their own, and he was anxious to help them get established where there was more land. In February 1877 he sold one Gunlock field to Orson Huntsman for $400 to be paid in cattle. At this time the Silver Reef near Leeds was opened up and beginning to do a thriving business. Its population was fifteen hundred people, and a daily stage ran over a newly constructed road from Silver Reef to Pioche. It was a regular stagecoach drawn by four horses and was typical of the western boom country. Dudley and his many boys might have made good money at the mines, but he was mindful of the pledge he had made to stay on the land. He wanted to establish his sons on the land also. Accordingly, when the first group went to settle Bunkerville in January 1877, some of his older boys went On the Ragged Edge 131 along. Dudley himself did not go for nearly a year. Orson Huntsman's diary has the following entries which give some light on his activities: April 28, 1877 I went to St. George in company with Dudley Leavitt. Arrived about noon, went to the public square where the men were drilling, trying to make soldiers out of themselves. Sunday, June 3, 1877 Pres. J. T. D. McAllister of St. George, Bishop Ensign and Samuel Knight of Santa Clara Ward held meeting with us and organized Gun-lock as a branch of the Santa Clara Ward, with Dudley Leavitt as presiding High Priest. July 4, 1877 We celebrated Independence Day by a public dinner at the house of my sister Mary (Dudley Leavitt's first wife), in a bowery in front of her house where we had been holding our Sunday services. In January of the next year, 1878, Dudley sold the rest of his Gunlock field to Orson Huntsman, though he retained ownership of his houses and lots, and some of his wives stayed there a short time. Because Bunkerville was the place where so many of his older children made their home, it may be interesting to have some detail of the activities of the first settlers. Most of Dudley's sons and daughters began their married life there; some have remained through all the years. Of the establishment of this community, James G. Bleak's record, Book D, page 136 says: A few persons including Edward Bunker and family, Lemuel S. Leavitt and family, and Edward Bunker, Jr., and family, and others being desirous to enter once more into the united order, held a meeting at Santa Clara on the first of January 1877 and organized themselves into a company for that purpose, with Edward Bunker, Sr., as president and Lemuel S. and Dudley Leavitt as counselors, Mahonri Steele as secretary, and Edward Bunker, Jr., as treasurer. Their company numbered in all 23 persons. On the 2nd of January they started for the Mesquite Flat on the Rio Virgin River and were joined by Lemuel Leavitt and daugh- 132 The United Order at Bunkerville ter, also by Samuel O. Crosby. The company had 6 wagons and 70 head of cattle. They arrived at Mes-quite on January 5. On further examination, they decided to locate on the south side of the river instead of the Mesquite side. On the 6th day they crossed the river and pitched camp at a point about 2V4 miles northeast of where the town of Bunkerville now stands. They started work at once, and on the very day of their arrival put up a small lumber building on top of the hill and called their location Bunkerville, after Edward Bunker, Sr., the leader of the company. On the 7th which was Sunday, the first meeting was held at Bunkerville, then consisting of one house and six wagons . . .. On Monday, Jan. 8, the brethren commenced work on a canal to convey the water from the Rio Virgin to the flat which they had selected as farm land on the south side of the river. They vigorously prosecuted this work during the week. On Sunday 14 of Jan. the second meeting was held, on which occasion the Sunday School was organized, with Elder Samuel O. Crosby as superintendent . . . . There were present eighteen members in all. Mrs. Ella Abbott Leavitt, who came as a girl to Bunkerville in its first year and later married Thomas Leavitt, son of Lemuel, makes some interesting comments. She says: The place was called Mesquite until in June 1879 when we got a mail line and a Post Office, and then it was named Bunkerville. Calista Bunker and Deborah Leavitt, both girls, came with the very first company, and the hill where they built the first shack was called "Calista's Lookout." That they really accomplished a great deal the first season is shown by this report of a sermon delivered in conference in St. George by Bishop Edward Bunker, Sr.: On January 22 they finished their irrigation ditch, a mile and a half long and four feet wide, costing 108 day's labor. This ditch was afterwards increased to On the Ragged Edge 133 2V2 miles in length. They set to work and cleared 75 acres of land. Had harvested 22 acres of wheat, 14 acres of cotton, 7 acres of sugar cane was in a healthy condition, and the balance of the land was in corn. Before fall Dudley had moved some of his family down to Bunkerville. He put everything he had into the United Order - the cattle he received for his land at Gunlock as well as those he had before, horses, wagons, and all. He had his son Wier haul the big waterwheel down from Gunlock and install it about one and one-half miles above the present townsite on the fall that is still known as the "gin ditch." He had purchased a burr flour mill from Dee Thompson at Cedar City. (Dee Thompson was Lemuel's brother-in-law). He also installed a cotton gin here, run by the waterwheel. At first the people lived the United Order very literally, eating at the same table and sharing all things in common. They had one big dining room and kitchen, with individual bedrooms. It was customary for all to gather for morning and evening prayer and for frequent council meetings. The men and boys old enough to work in the field or on the ditch were always served first, the women and younger children eating later. The women divided their work, some cooking, others washing the dishes, others caring for the milk and butter, while still another group was responsible for the clothing, including washing, ironing, and mending. Their tasks rotated in regular order. The first harvest was a great relief to the settlers, as they were forced to haul all their provisions so far. They cut the first grain with a cradle, threshed it by driving cattle over it on a hard clay floor, and winnowed it in the wind. Since James G. Bleak reports, "New Year's Day 1879 the burr mill at Bunkerville did its first grinding. Turned out a fairly good grade of flour," we may be sure Dudley was there and established before that time. In speaking of this burr mill, one of his older daughters, Sarah, said, "I remember the old burr mill. My 134 The United Order at Bunkerville daughter, Mina, still has the stone at Las Vegas. How often mother and I have had to clean it after it was used to grind rock salt before we could use it to grind flour. We always had to clean and wash the wheat and pick out the smutty kernels so the flour wouldn't be so black." The summer had been a sore trial to the settlers. In January their location on the top of a barren hill would be pleasant, but by June it would be like an oven. The scrub vegetation around it would hardly shelter the lizards that darted from one little bush to another to avoid the burning rocks. Added to the heat was the bad water - alkaline, muddy, and hard. They called it "Virgin Bloat" and told jokes about how it was so thick they had to bite it off in chunks. Worst of all was the malaria which the swarms of mosquitoes from the river bottoms carried. The diary of Myron Abbott tells of nine down at one time with chills and fever, of others suffering with boils, and of frequent calls to go administer to the sick. James G. Bleak gives two slightly varying reports of that first harvest. On page 136 of Book D, he says: The season of 1877 the Bunkerville company of the United Order produced 400 bushels of wheat, 700 gallons of molasses, 9,040 pounds of cotton lint, as well as corn, squash and other vegetables. Book C, page 206 says: Bishop Edward Bunker addressed the saints in the tabernacle. He reports the results of working the United Order in Bunkerville, Nevada, being satisfactory. In 1877 the first year, they produced 450 bushels of wheat, 12,000 pounds of cotton on the seed, and 600 gallons of molasses. Since the first company arrived in Bunkerville in January and consisted almost entirely of grown-ups, no school was held that year. By the next fall so many families had arrived that a school was held for four months in the shanty on the hill. Charlie Hoath was the teacher. Dudley had his families at the gin and mill site, a mile On the Ragged Edge 135 below, so that his children had quite a distance to walk. The only equipment was rough, backless benches of split cottonwood logs, a bit of a blackboard, and a long table. The teacher had a spelling book, arithmetic book, and two or three readers, most of them beginners' books. That same year Myron Abbott taught a night school for the men and boys who were old enough to work. The community was organized into a ward just a year after their arrival, January 12, 1879, with Edward Bunker, bishop, Edward Bunker, Jr., as first and Myron Abbott as second counselors. George Lee was ward clerk. Since the population had grown and the work had been scattered, it was not practical for them to live any longer with a common dining hall. Each family lived by itself, and each man was made a steward over a certain part of the property. All crops were placed in a common storehouse, and all families received what they needed. For example, Brother Freeman was in charge of the vegetable garden. He raised all the vegatables that were needed by the entire community and gave them out to the people as they came for them. The second summer James G. Bleak reports: In 1879 they produced 1600 bushels of wheat, 30,000 pounds of cotton on the seed and from 1500 to 1600 gallons of molasses. This year a thresher was brought in, being hauled by team all the way from California, a three-weeks' trip. Joseph Hammond of St. George arrived Nov. 24, 1878, with thresher, after threshing wheat and barley at Bunkerville. This month the first house was erected on the Bunkerville townsite. The life in the United Order, begun with such high hopes and noble ideals, soon began to be unsatisfactory. The way of having only what his neighbor had, of sharing everything, and holding all property in common would not satisfy many of the members. James G. Bleak, Book C, page 296 says: This month, Oct. 1880, it became manifested in the Bunkerville Ward, where the workers in the united order have been working as stewards, that some stewardships, through their economy and industry were 136 The United Order at Bunkerville gathering and laying in an abundance while others through carelessness and bad management were wasting the means of the company, each year increasing in debt. This was very unsatisfactory to those whose ambition was to accumulate at least the necessities of life. The result was that a general meeting was held at which it was decided that each stewardship should have the right to draw 80% of the proceeds of their labor, the 20% to be retained in the treasury as a fund to keep the capital stock good. This proved acceptable to some, and they gave notice of withdrawal. This caused a settlement to be made of the whole business. Dissatisfaction increased and it was decided to disorganize the Bunkerville United Order. The company paid off the capital stock and 17% of the labor performed. Page 231, Book C under the date of August 5, 1880, says: The settlers at Bunkerville on the Rio Virgin, having worked in the United Order upwards of 2Vi years, have this date commenced to divide its property for distribution. In settling up, the company paid all the capital stock invested and 18% interest on all labor performed from the first of January to date. This business of settlement was very complicated, and required a long time. We get suggestions of it from the diary of Myron Abbott, but the records seem to have been destroyed. Through the years comes the suggestion that Dudley was not pleased with what he got out of it - for his cattle were divided among others - and he came out of the experiment poorer than he went in. Whether it was dissatisfaction with the order of things in Bunkerville or whether he wanted more land perhaps we shall never know, but upon the settlement and the breaking up of the order, he moved across the river to the site of the present town of Mesquite and set up his families there. Through all the years after she received the blessing of Apostle George A. Smith there at Gunlock in August of 1857, Mother Leavitt had treasured his promises to her: On the Ragged Edge 137 that her name should go down in honor through future generations for her service in teaching the young women some of the household crafts of manufacturing cloth, for her skill as a midwife in delivering babies, and for her testimony of the Gospel and the mission of the Prophet Joseph Smith. She needed her own private little home to come back to, but she also wanted to be where she could be most helpful. The winters in Hebron were too cold, and there was no fruit there. As a result she spent much of her time in Gunlock. In 1877, when Dudley and Lem were joining the United Order at Bunkerville, she continued to live in Gunlock. She read much, and she wrote a long and detailed story of the family from the time they left Canada - a truly enlightening volume. (This has since been copied and printed by the family.) Jeremiah was not well during this winter, so his mother moved into their home where she had a private bedroom and could be near if she could be of any assistance. She herself was failing, also. In late March of 1878, as the United Order was breaking up, Jeremiah sent word to Dudley and Lemuel that their mother was in very poor health and failing fast. Though they knew that they should be here to guard their interests in the division of property, they went to Gunlock at once, traveling together in a light buggy and taking Mary and Mariah along. It was clear that mother could not last long, though she recognized them all and seemed comforted to know that they were with her. Knowing the need for a hasty burial, the boys selected the place for the grave, cleared the area of brush, and outlined the size. They also measured and dressed the lumber for the coffin. They would wait until after the burial to send word to Tom in Wellsville, Cache County, Priscilla in Arizona, and Mary and Betsy in California. Mother Leavitt had her own burial clothes ready; she knew the importance of haste, and she was fastidious upon this point. She must go to her grave properly clothed, with carefully 138 The United Order at Bunkerville stitched apron and properly tied white moccasins, the ribbon bows according to pattern. Word had gone out among the scattered families so that a crowd of some thirty persons gathered to pay their respects. Hymns were sung by the audience, words of appreciation and love from several, and the final dedication of the grave ended the service. Following it, the group gathered at Jeremiah's house where his capable wife had refreshments and where all shared in stories of Mother Leavitt's ministering hand in sickness and her skill in teaching the homemaking art - or, more properly, the cloth-making art. Mother Leavitt's service ended in the forenoon of April 6. Lem and Dudley went home immediately, Dudley to remain at his new "camp" on Lewis Bottom and Lemuel going on to his families in Santa Clara. Within a few days, each was filled with great concern for the family at Gunlock. True, they were all well and full of energy on the afternoon of the sixth; but now in the middle of the night of April 10 Dudley was on horseback and headed for Gunlock. Before daylight he saw another horseman coming from the north. They met at the crossroads. Lem also had been unable to stay in bed, so strong was his premonition of trouble at Gunlock. They did not arrive too soon. In fact, they were almost too late. Jeremiah, so well and healthy and strong when they left, was now struggling in the last stages of pneumonia. The cause? He had been hurrying to get in his spring wheat - delayed by the funeral. He had soaked his seed in Paris green to kill the smut, and it seemed that in walking and casting the seed out into the wind, he had inhaled some of the lethal dust. It seemed impossible. Here they had left Eliza to write the letters about Mother Leavitt's death, because she was the best educated, wrote a fine hand, and was certain of her spelling. They had joked her then about their courtship - how when she was a waitress and served him food for the first time she told her companion waitress, "There goes the man I am going to marry." Poor Jerry, he hadn't a chance when a girl from a wealthy On the Ragged Edge 139 home, well educated and beautiful, set her cap for him. He didn't try to escape, either, and they had truly lived happily ever after. Now with all his strong constitution, he was powerless. He died on April 12 and was buried in the same lot with his mother. |
