by Gordon Ryan
Teresa Maria Cardenas, though born in Mazatlán, Mexico, was of direct Spanish descent and, according to custom, had spent much of her youth in Spain, undertaking her education under the tutelage of family and professional associates of Don Sebastian. Well versed in Spanish, French, and English, Teresa actually knew more about world politics and the practical economics of farming and ranching than Harold, for Don Sebastian had not been inclined to allow his only daughter to function as a mere household decoration, as was the case with so many of his peers throughout Mexico. He had provided her with a most thorough education and was enormously proud of her.
As for Miguel Antonio, Don Sebastian was depending upon his only son, who was an able rancher, to carry on the family name and legacy. The marriage of his daughter into this American family would, at least down Teresa’s line, dilute the purity of their Spanish pedigree, so carefully protected since Captain Cardenas had explored the area over three and a half centuries ago. Many Cardenas offspring existed throughout the territory, but none with proven or acknowledged family lineage records, other than those from marriages that had been sanctioned and blessed by the Catholic Archbishop of Mexico.
Unknown to either Miguel or Teresa, Don Sebastian had conferred with Mexican President Diaz, and the two men had reached an understanding regarding the political benefit of establishing marital ties between the Cardenas line and a prominent Yanqui family, such as the Strombergs. Seeds of revolution continued to plague the Mexican government, and President Diaz, ever mindful of retaining power, felt that an American colony situated deep in Mexico, might one day provide leverage to compel U.S. military support should it ever be required to put down a full-scale insurrection. The sacrifice of Teresa Cardenas’s noble heritage was a small cost to pay for such insurance.
Harold now understood that his father and Don Sebastian had arranged this marriage some time ago and that he had been the only one unaware. Teresa had long since prepared her trousseau, and the marriage bans had been officially posted several weeks before Harold’s arrival. The customary three-year engagement, typical in Spanish families, had been waived on the basis of Don Sebastian’s declaration that the marriage had actually been arranged several years before. Given his status, Don Sebastian’s public explanation that it had been in the interest of both families to keep the agreement confidential was entirely acceptable.
Only on one occasion had Harold been bold enough to broach the subject with Teresa and to ask directly if she were in agreement with their fathers’ arrangement of the marriage.
“Harold, I can think of no greater honor than to be the instrument in the merging of our two great families, and as for myself,” she said, lowering her eyes and glancing at Miguel Antonio, discreetly positioned on his horse off to one side, “I couldn’t be more pleased, if my father had allowed me complete choice in the matter.”
Harold was flattered by Teresa’s response. The idea of being married to this darkly beautiful and exotic woman sat increasingly well with him. Whatever reservations he might have initially entertained were quickly being swallowed up in the adventure of spending time, galloping side by side on spirited horses, across her father’s vast holdings. For increasingly long periods of time, he was able to quite comfortably put Katrina out of his mind and attend to the business at hand.
So, in the third week in August, 1896, nearly six weeks after Harold Stromberg’s arrival in Mexico, with not so much as a single kiss having been exchanged between them, Harold Cumberland Stromberg and Teresa Maria Vasquez Cardenas were married in all the pomp and glory of a Catholic ceremony in the magnificent cathedral in Mazatlán, Mexico, the ceremony performed by the Archbishop of Mexico, himself, Father Hernando Portolo.
The guest list included Mexican President Porfiro Diaz, with whom Don Sebastian had labored long and hard to assure that the Cardenas name was retained among the inner circle. Diaz held some residual animosity toward the United States over the events of the Mexican-American War of 1845, and the loss of the territory of Texas to the United States. So he might have opposed Don Sebastian’s plan to sell off part of his Spanish land grant territory to the gringos from the north, but Diaz recalled that the several other American colonies, located just south of the United States border, had been largely assimilated into Mexican culture by the second generation. The presence of this colony might also serve to help strengthen the local economy and raise the standard of living of the Mexican people in the area. Besides, the land purchased by the Strombergs was deep enough into Mexico so as to ease Diaz’s mind on the potential problems. And, finally, the thought of using the colony as justification for requesting U. S. military support to forestall potential rebellion capped his decision.
By the middle of September, Harold and Teresa had returned from their honeymoon. They had taken a two-day cruise down the Pacific coast on a sailing ship to a quaint little village, where for a week, the proprietors of the inn waited on their every need. On the ninth of September, Harold again bid a new bride adieu, and sailed, together with Mr. Bowen, back to San Francisco. From there, they took the train to Salt Lake City, where Harold made a detailed report to his father. Offering his heartiest congratulations to Harold on his marriage to Teresa and expressing full satisfaction over the success of his son’s trip, the elder Stromberg announced that it only remained to arrange for the relocation of about sixty families who had expressed their desire to join the Stromberg colony in Mexico.
As had been the case with Katrina, two weeks after Harold’s departure, and just a month after the ceremony, Teresa Maria proudly informed her father that she was with child and that in late spring, the first Cardenas-Stromberg heir would appear. Don Sebastian was overjoyed.
Father Lawrence Scanlan’s heart was heavy as he took his morning walk, the hint of fall hanging in the air over the Salt Lake valley. Scanlan had developed a reputation among the Mormon population of Salt Lake City of being even-handed in his approach to the question of polygamy. Not that he condoned such marriages, for as preceptor of the Catholic church in Utah, Father Scanlan had often condemned the practice of plural marriage to his parishioners.
But, in his dealings in the public forum and with the leaders of the Mormon church, he had maintained a quiet, respectful demeanor, intended to soothe, rather than inflame the anti-Mormon fervor that had raged over polygamy in the non-Mormon population of the Valley prior to the Manifesto.
The issuance of the Manifesto by President Woodruff had been hailed by Bishop Scanlan as a great step forward and one that God approved. On that point, both Catholic and Mormon leadership were in agreement.
His meeting, however, with George Q. Cannon the previous evening had been most disconcerting. President Cannon had, of course, been as cordial as ever and had received Bishop Scanlan into his home with perfect civility. However, the news that Bishop Scanlan had brought to President Cannon was not so pleasant.
In an attempt to discover more about the Yanqui family moving from Salt Lake City to Mexico, Bishop Hernando Portolo, Archbishop of the Mexican Diocese, had written to Bishop Scanlan to inquire about the Stromberg family. In his discourse, Bishop Portolo had informed Bishop Scanlan that he was scheduled to perform the marriage ceremony for Don Sebastian Cardenas’s only daughter, Teresa, to one Harold Stromberg of Salt Lake City. Any information that Father Scanlan could provide on the family would be most helpful.
Father Scanlan was not acquainted with Harold Stromberg, and in fact knew little of the man’s standing in the Mormon church. Sister Mary had told Father Scanlan about Katrina Stromberg’s visit and the fact that Harold had acted vindictively toward their Irish friend. And Father Scanlan was acquainted with Magnus Stromberg, as he was with most of the prominent businessmen in Salt Lake. He had the impression that the elder Stromberg was highly regarded by the leaders of the Mormon church. His going to President Cannon was, then, a matter of professional courtesy. If Harold Stromberg intended to take a second wife, it was in violation of the Manifesto. And since it probably involv
ed some duplicity and a Catholic woman, both churches had an interest in the matter.
President Cannon had received the news of the impending marriage without comment except to say he would look into the matter, but Father Scanlan left their meeting with the distinct impression that the Mormon leader had been saddened by the news of the pending plural marriage in the Stromberg family.
Now, as Scanlan approached Holy Cross Hospital on his morning walk, he, too, was saddened by the turn of events, for Sister Mary had been most complimentary of the young Stromberg woman and her desire to ensure that justice was done in the case of Thomas Callahan.
The final piece that concerned Bishop Scanlan, and over which he was now most perplexed, was the telegram from the western region headquarters of the Catholic church, in San Francisco. “It is with regret,” it had announced, “that we inform you of the unexpected death of Archbishop Hernando Portolo in Mexico City.” His successor was not named in the telegram.
As Father Scanlan relayed all this to Sister Mary, it became readily apparent that he actually had no one to whom he could reply regarding Bishop Portolo’s request for information on the Stromberg family. If he wrote directly to Don Sebastian, he would be interfering in family affairs and, of course, no individual had as yet come to him for advice or counsel.
The issue for the Catholic church, at least for the present, had died with Bishop Portolo, who, if the dates indicated in his original letter were correct, had already performed the marriage ceremony. Delivering the news to Sister Mary, Father Scanlan suggested they keep the information to themselves and let the Mormon leadership handle it as they saw fit. Accordingly, in her next letter to Thomas Callahan, a follow-up to her letter several weeks earlier, neither of which would be received by Tom until the Yukon was passable in the spring, she made no mention of either Katrina Stromberg’s husband’s duplicitous behavior, or of the action Father Scanlan was certain President George Q. Cannon would take concerning Harold Stromberg’s church membership.
Father Scanlan’s observations of President Cannon proved quite correct. Following church policy in the matter, Harold’s bishop and stake president were advised of the situation and asked to look into it. When questioned about his having entered into a second marriage in violation of the Manifesto, Harold confessed his action but argued his right to do so. In a church court convened to try him for his membership, Harold was excommunicated, for the practice of plural marriage, contrary to the order of the church.
In private meetings, President Cannon conferred also with Harold’s father, Magnus Stromberg, a long-standing member of the church, who was well respected in the community.
Magnus Stromberg’s reluctance to accept church counsel left little doubt as to his stance concerning the matter. Because the elder Stromberg had not entered into another plural marriage since the Manifesto, even though he maintained four wives and their families who lived in various locations throughout Utah, there was still no charge that could be laid against him.
Where he found himself in difficulty was his refusal to sustain the President of the church and the declared word of the Lord on the continuing practice of plural marriage. When pressed for his views, he finally revealed the full measure of his apostasy and left the meeting with President Cannon in a pique of anger, more determined than ever to bolt the church and move himself, his families, and others who were supportive of his position to Mexico. The excommunication of young Harold, which followed quickly, for entering into an illegal plural marriage, was the final blow.
Magnus arranged for immediate departure of those families who sought to join the colony. With the number reduced to thirty-seven from the original sixty families, Harold was instructed by his father to make all necessary preparations to depart at the earliest opportunity.
Katrina was not advised specifically why, only that Harold had been excommunicated. She was led to understand by her husband and father-in-law that it had to do only with the Stromberg’s determination to establish a Mormon colony in Mexico, contrary to the wishes of church leaders. Magnus Stromberg told her that other colonies had experienced similar problems and that she should not worry. He assured her Harold would be quickly reinstated as soon as the colony came to be a permanent fixture and the church leaders saw the merit in the relocation.
Katrina’s father provided a different sort of counsel.
“This is not good, Katrina. You should stay here in Salt Lake until the issue is settled by the church,” he advised.
“Poppa, he is my husband. I must go with him. You have told me many times that the wife must obey the husband and follow his lead,” she replied.
“Ya, but he is now out of the church, Katrina.”
“I know, but Father Stromberg told me not to worry. All will be made right, soon.”
“Ya, well, he must know. He is longtime a member.”
And so, against her father’s wishes, Katrina sailed with Harold and something over a hundred others, some of them former members of the church, as they left San Francisco for Mexico. Having been assured by both Harold and Magnus that all would shortly be well, Katrina was nevertheless alarmed as they neared the Mexican coast and their destination. Harold chose a moment when she was repacking their luggage just prior to their arrival, to talk to her.
“Katrina, for a while, it will be best if you pretend that you are my sister, and not my wife.”
“What!” she exclaimed.
“It’s only for a short time, Katrina. It’s just that the land purchase is complicated, and I have many dealings with Señor Cardenas to complete. I will need to stay with them in their hacienda for some weeks, and it would be better if they did not know that I was married. I’ve arranged for you to stay with the Olsens until I can arrange for our house to be built.”
“Harold, I don’t want to stay with the Olsens. I want to be with you.”
“I understand, dear,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “Just be patient for a while, Katrina. I have our best interests at heart. Remember, if you’d not learned of the true nature of that Callahan lout, you might now be married to a murderer.”
Katrina remained silent, though hearing such a blatant evidence of Harold’s duplicity made her almost physically ill. He knew Thomas was not guilty of murder, and to hear him lie so callously was chilling.
When the ship entered the harbor at Mazatlán, and Miguel Antonio came out to meet Harold, Katrina was introduced as Harold’s sister. Miguel insisted that, as a family member, she accompany them to the hacienda, but Harold deferred, stating that she was needed to assist with the young Olsen children until the colony was able to construct permanent housing. Katrina’s departure with the others left Harold little doubt that she was unhappy. His promise that he would see her in a few days did little to placate her anger or her resentment. But looking forward to his reunion with Teresa, Harold had little patience with Katrina’s petulance and was frankly relieved to be away from her for a few days. He gave instructions to three of the men in the company, whom he had hired, to begin building a house for Katrina, and then, giving her a kiss on the forehead, left with Miguel.
16
The Mormon colonists arrived in early November and were greeted with many acts of generosity and hospitality by the Mexicans living in and around Mazatlán. Merchants, anxious to fill the orders for lumber, grain, and sundry supplies necessary to outfit a new community, were more than eager to welcome the newcomers, even though the colonists were not Catholic.
Harold was once again warmly greeted by Don Sebastian, but it was his welcome from Teresa that impressed Harold, assuring him of her affection for him and the degree to which she had missed him since his departure nearly eight weeks earlier. They had been married only four weeks when he had returned to Salt Lake City, and Teresa’s request to accompany him had been difficult to deny, but eventually, with the support of Don Sebastian, Harold had convinced her to remain in Mazatlán and arrange for their future life together. How well she had accomplished that
task was to quickly become a thorn in Harold’s side.
As they retired to their bed on Harold’s first night back in Mazatlán, Teresa had snuggled close to him and confided in him her joy that she had conceived and was bearing their first child. The news hit Harold like a thunderbolt, and he was relieved it was dark in the bedchamber, so that he did not have to explain the look of panic that came over his face. Lying there in the dark, he was able to make a reasonable expression of happiness at the news, but in reality, it was a complication he wasn’t certain how to deal with. He was now the uneasy custodian of two wives, both pregnant, and each unaware of the other.
The next morning, as he woke, Harold found Teresa up and already dressed in riding gear. She came and sat on the side of the bed, and with her hand, tenderly brushed back the tousled hair that she had come to recognize as Harold’s morning trademark.
“I have a surprise for you this morning,” she said.
“Just being with you each day is a surprise,” Harold replied.
“Ah, then this will be extra special. I’ve laid out your riding clothes, and Manuel is preparing our horses.”
“Where are we going?” he asked, rising, giving her a soft kiss, and heading for the bathroom.
Teresa followed, helping him to lather his face and watching in the mirror as he began stropping his razor on the leather. “I told you, it’s a surprise,” she teased.
