While in this condition my wives Rachel and Nancy stood over me like guardian angels, and prayed for me. My spirit left the body and I was taken into another sphere, where I saw myriads of people - many of whom I was acquainted with and had known on earth. The atmosphere that they dwelt in was pure and hallowed. Pain and sorrow were unknown. All was joy and peace. Each spirit was blest with all the pleasure its ability enabled it to comprehend and enjoy. They had full knowledge of earthly doings and also of the sphere where they were so blest. The glory of God shone upon them, the power of Heaven over-shadowed them all, and was to them a shield from temptations and dangers. I was anxious to remain, but the spirits told me I must return to the body and remain in it until my appointed time for death - that my work on earth was not yet finished. I obeyed, but did so with reluctance, and once more entered the body, then apparently lifeless upon the bed of sickness.

After taking possession of the body again I lay some time in deep thought, contemplating the majesty of God's works. I then spoke to my faithful nurses, and told them of what I had done, heard, and witnessed. I recovered from my sickness, but my life was for some time a misery to me. I longed to join that angelic host I had so lately visited in their mansions of glory and pleasure, where I knew I was to go when I escaped from this body of earthly material.

This feeling of anxiety to go to my eternal rest was strengthened by the bitter, malignant actions of men who acted like demons toward me and mine. Every species of intrigue and meanness was resorted to by several of the brethren to injure and torment me. They were jealous of me and anxious to provoke me to violence. Everything that envy and hatred could suggest was tried to break up and scatter my family. Finally they reported to Father Morley that nothing but a change of rulers in the settlement would bring peace.

Father Morley came, with several elders, and called a meeting, at which he heard all the parties state their grievances against me. He then told them they had brought nothing against me that reflected upon me as presiding officer; that I had acted well and for the best interest of the entire people; that all the trouble arose from the wrong acts of the people.

One of the brethren, C. Kennedy, proposed a change. He wanted a High Priest to preside instead of a Seventy. I was tired of my position and consented to the change. A man by the name of Fuller was selected by Kennedy to rule over the people. Father Morley put the question to a vote of the people, and said that all who wished a change of rulers should hold up their hands. Only two hands were raised. Then he said that all who wished me to remain in charge should raise their hands, when every person present but two voted that I should still be the ruler at Summer Quarters.

Father Morley called upon the two brethren who had voted for a change to get up and tell what they had against me. They could give no good reason for wanting a change. They said they had never lived by a better neighbor or kinder man than I was, but that I was too kind. I let the people run over me; and they voted for a change believing it would tend to unite the people and satisfy those who had been raising a fuss and finding fault.

Father Morley told them it was wrong to vote against a good man for such reasons. He talked to the people on the principles of their religion for some time, and advised them to forsake their evil ways, for they were going in a road that led to hell. This ended my troubles for a time, but I soon found that my enemies had only let go their hold to spit on their hands and get a better one.

They asked to be allowed to organize a Danite force for the protection of the settlement. This was to be entirely apart from me. I granted their request. It was next decided to build an estray pound. A meeting was called and it was agreed that each man should build fence in proportion to the amount of stock he owned, and that the public corral should be used for the estray pound. But no stock was to be put into the pound until all the fencing was done and the gates set up. I at once completed my fencing, but the grumblers had no time to work; they were too busy finding fault. The whole thing was a subterfuge, and was meant to bother me. There was no need of a pound, as our cattle were herded in daytime and corralled at night. But I submitted, for I knew I could live by their laws as well as they.

One evening, as my cattle were being driven up for the night, one of the oxen broke through a brush fence and got into a patch of corn. The herdsman ran him out in a moment. Instead of holding the herder responsible for the damage, or coming to me to make a complaint and demand pay for the wrong, they took my ox out of the corral, and, contrary to the vote of the people, tied him up in Wm. Pace's private corral. I was the only man who had made his fence, as ordered by the meeting. I did not know that they had my ox tied up (for work had not been done to justify putting any stock in the pound).

Next morning I sent one of my boys to yoke up my oxen; he returned and informed me that one of my oxen was missing. I soon found the ox, and demanded its release. I was told I must pay twenty dollars before I could have the ox, and pay it in money. I saw this was done to worry me, and sent word that I would pay in any kind of property I had.

They refused everything but money or butter. I had neither to spare, and they well knew it. I was still weak from my recent sickness, but I walked over and had a talk with Wm. Pace and tried to reason with him, but to no purpose. I told him he ought to take pay for damage done by stock in the kind of property that the stock had injured, but no, I must pay money or butter, or lose my ox. I reflected a moment and concluded that forbearance had ceased to be a virtue; that unless I defended my rights I would soon be without anything worth protecting. I then walked into the yard, untied the ox, and told my boy to drive him home. Pace stood by the gate with a large cane, but made no resistance; in fact, he was not a bad man, but was being misled by evil company.

Kennedy, Busby, Dunn, and others were a little way off. They saw me, and came running up. Kennedy was the bully of the camp, and the leader of those against me. He came up and said:

"If I had been here you would not have turned that ox out. I would have switched you if you had tried it."

"Kennedy," I said, "I have lost property enough without your oppressing me any more."

He shoved his fist under my nose. I parried his blow, and told him that he would do well to keep at a proper distance from me. He again made a pass at me. I then threw down my hat and said:

"If you attempt that again you must take what follows."

He came at me the third time, and as he did so I aimed to spoil his face, but he dropped his head as I struck; the blow took effect on his eyebrow, and badly sprained my thumb. We were on a little knoll, full of stumps of small trees that had been cut down. Kennedy caught hold of me and commenced shoving me back.

I knew that my strength would not last long. I did not wish to risk having a tussle among the stumps, so I backed towards the cleared ground. I fastened my left hand in his long black hair to steady myself, and as I reached the flat ground I suddenly leaped back, breaking his hold by tearing my shirt. I then jerked him forward at an angle of forty-five degrees, and planted my fist in his face; stepping back, and drawing him after me, I kept feeding him in the face with my fist, the blood spurting over me.

The crowd saw their bully getting the worst of it, and ran in to help him. Brother Teeples caught me around the arms, to prevent me striking any more. My Rachel, who was standing by, called to her brother, James Woolsey, and he came and took hold of Kennedy and separated us. I was sorry that this fight took place, for I had severely punished the bully, and his face was badly bruised.

This suited the people; I had shown violence, and now they could lay a charge against me that they thought would stand. I was cited to appear before the High Council, and be dealt with according to the rules of the Church, for a breach of the peace and for unchristian conduct.

The whole people were not against me, only a few; but there were enough of them to keep up a constant broil. They began consecrating my property to their own use; killed my cattle, and ate them, and stole everything that was loose. They stole wheat from my graneries, had it ground, and ate it, and bragged about it.

Kennedy, by the evil influences he commanded, induced my young wife, Emeline, to leave me and go to his house, and she went with his family to the winter quarters. That was the reason that I turned her away and refused to take her back. She repented, and wished to come back, but I would not receive her.

Similar influences were brought to bear on all of my family, but without success. Such treatment was not calculated to bind me to such a people, whose only aim appeared to be to deprive me of every comfort and enjoyment that made life endurable. I was in great trouble; in place of friends I had found enemies. There was a struggle in my mind to decide what I should do. I looked upon those of my family that remained true and shared my persecutions, and knew that if I left the Church I could not keep or live with them; that if I left I must part with all but my first wife and her children, and to do so was worse than death. I did not know what to do. I finally appeared before the High Council to meet my accusers, who had formed a combination to destroy me. I had few friends to defend me, and they were in a measure powerless. They dared not speak their mind in my behalf.

Father Morley was true to the last, although he was becoming unpopular on account of having so long supported me. Lieut. Gully was another true friend of mine; he said he would never turn against me until I had done something wrong, even if Brigham should desire him to do so. This lost him his influence in the Council.

The most willful and damnable lies were brought up against me. Many things which had been said and done in moments of amusement and jocularity were remembered, as though I had said and done those things for wicked purposes. Everything that could be discovered or invented to injure me was laid to my charge. All who were against me had a full chance to talk.

Brother Johnson, who was there, but not as a member of the Council, was called upon to fill a vacancy occasioned by the absence of some member. He made a speech to the Council, and showed where I had acted well; he then voted for my acquittal. Brother Cummings, who had been a member of the Council when I was first tried in the summer, and who then took my part, now thought he would make himself popular with the people, so he volunteered his evidence and bore false witness against me. This man's action was wrong and uncharitable. I had been more than a brother to him in the past; I had supplied his family with food when they would have suffered but for the help I gave them.

The result of the trial was that I was ordered to confess I had been in fault; that I was alone to blame, and must ask the people to forgive me. If I refused I was to be cut off from the Church.

To a man in my situation it was equivalent to death to be cut off from the Church; my wives would be taken from me, my property consecrated to the Church, and I turned adrift, broken and disgraced, and liable to suffer death at the hand of any brother Danite who wished to take my life to save my soul. I replied that in justice to myself I could not make such confession, but, if nothing else would do, I would say as the Council commended me to say - that is, I would make the confession. I was told that this would not do; that no whipping of the devil around a stump would do them; my confession must be full and unconditional.

What the result would have been I cannot say, for just then a messenger returned, saying that Brigham was near at hand, on his return with the pioneers who had gone out with him to look for a resting place for the Saints. This stopped proceedings.

The majority of the people rushed forth to meet Brigham. I returned home, conscious of my innocence and willing that the people should have the first show to talk to Brigham and give him their side of the case. I did this so that I might see how much he could be stuffed.

The people told their story and misrepresented me in every way; they told Brigham how I had divided the land, and said that I and Father Morley both declared that he had ordered me and my family to take the cleared land.

Brigham sided against me.

After that there was nothing left undone by many of the people to irritate or injure me or my family.

My property was stolen, my fences broken down, and everything that vile men could imagine or work up by studying deviltry was done to make life a burden to me. I had raised over seven thousand bushels of corn, and everyone had a good crop. I had a large lot filled up in the husk, and I let my cattle run to it so as to keep them fat during the winter, that I might drive them over the plains in the spring. My enemies took advantage of my position, and drove my cattle from my own corn pile and put them into the estray pound. I offered to put all the corn I had into their hands as security, until I could have a meeting called to examine into the charge. I wanted my cows at home, for we needed the milk. I had a large family, and many little children that would suffer without milk. Half the men in the settlement offered to go my security, but to no purpose. I sent Lieut. Gully to Brigham with a statement of the case, but he paid no attention to it. Gully was well acquainted with Brigham, and a fine man too. He insisted on giving Brigham the story in full, and demanded that he should go in person and see to the matter. But Brigham was immovable.

Things stood this way until Emeline, one of Brigham's wives, took the matter to heart, and begged him to look into the affair. She asked him to bring her to my house, to visit her sister Louisa, then one of my wives. He came, but said little of the trouble, and soon left.

Two days afterwards I wrote Brigham a kind letter, and invited him to come to my house and eat a turkey dinner with me. I sent this by Brother Stewart. He met Brigham on his way to my house and gave him my letter. I did not expect he would come to see me, but he was there. He treated me most kindly. When supper time came he said to one of my wives:

"Sister, I have come for a bowl of good milk, but skim the cream off."

"We have no milk," she replied.

"How is that?" said he. "I thought Brother John always had milk." I then told him that the Danites had my cows in the pound.

"What on earth are they doing with your cows?" he asked.

Then I told him the whole story in a few words. He scarcely waited to hear me, but called to his carriage driver, Grant, and said:

"Come, George, I will go and see about this matter."

He soon returned, saying:

"Your cows will presently be here."

Brigham then asked me where my turkey was. I told him Kennedy had robbed me of all my turkeys, but perhaps I could borrow one from him. I then sent Brother Gully to ask Kennedy to loan me a couple of fat turkey's; that I had Brigham at my house and wanted them for his supper. He sent word that Brigham was welcome to all the turkeys he wanted, at his house. I then told Brigham I would go hunting and get him a nice one for dinner the next day. I went out that night with Gully and hunted some time, but the snow was a foot deep or more, and a crust had frozen, so that it was difficult hunting. At last we found a large flock of turkeys at roost in the tall Cottonwood timber. I shot two by starlight; one fell in the river, and we lost it, but the other fell dead at the roots of the tree. This was a large and fat turkey. I considered that it would do, and we returned home with it. We had been gone only a little over an hour.

Brigham stayed at my house. We sat by the fire and talked until midnight. I unbosomed myself to him. I told him of my ill treatment, and asked if I had failed in any respect to perform the duties of the mission he gave me before starting with the pioneers across the plains. I told him of the great crop we had raised; that we had it in abundance to feed the poor and for every purpose; so much, in fact, that there was no sale for it. He said:

"You have done well, and you shall be blessed for it."

To this I replied that I hoped my blessings would be different from those I had been receiving. He replied:

"Jesus has said, In this world you shall have tribulation, but in Me you shall have peace - that is, if you bear these things patiently, without murmuring."



CHAPTER XVIII - THE DANITE AND HIS DUTY

While my mind is running in that direction let me tell of certain of the doings of the Danites. These stories I relate will illustrate the purpose and uses of the Danite in the work of the Mormon Church, and show how the sword of Gideon was wielded in cases smaller than the affair at Mountain Meadows, still to be written down. What follows are instances of thousands of like kind.

In the fall of 1859 two young men on their way to California stopped at the Santa Clara fort to recruit their jaded animals. Expecting that while doing so they might be so fortunate as to meet with a train of people going to the same place, and have company to San Bernardino, the young men stayed at the fort over two months. Hamblin, one of the Danites, assured them that they could go alone through the country with perfect safety. At the same time he had his plans laid to take their lives as soon as they started. This was by direction of the Mormon leaders. The Indians around the fort wanted to kill the men at once, but Hamblin objected, and told the Indians to wait until the men got out in the desert.

At last these young men started from the fort. Hamblin told the Indians that the right time had come, and wanted the Indians to ambush themselves at a point agreed on near the desert, where the men could be safely killed. The Indians obeyed Hamblin's orders, and as the men approached the place of ambush fired upon them, killing one of the men. The other returned the fire, and shot one of Hamblin's pet Indians through the hand; this Indian's name was Queets, which means left-handed. By wounding this Indian he managed to escape, with the loss of the pack animals, provisions, and the riding animal of his partner, who lay dead upon the desert. The survivor stayed with Mr. Judd for a few days, when a company of emigrants came that way, and, departing with them, he succeeded in making his escape from the death that Hamblin still planned for him.

One day, this was in 1857, an emigrant train was passing through the Mormon settlements. Hamblin, the Danite at Santa Clara, made arrangements with Nephi Johnson, who was to act as their guide, how and where to relieve this company of the large herd of stock that belonged to the train. They had a number of horses and cattle, more than five hundred head in all. Several Indian interpreters were sent ahead of the train. One of these was Ira Hatch, a Danite. They were ordered by Hamblin to prepare the Indians for a raid upon the stock.

About 10 o'clock, a. m., just after the train had crossed the Muddy, and was a few miles beyond it on the desert, at the time and place settled on by Hamblin, over one hundred Indians made a dash on the train and drove off all the stock to the Muddy.

The emigrants fired at the Indians, but Nephi Johnson their guide, rushed out and told them that if they valued their own lives they must not fire again, for if they did he could not protect them from the cruelty of the savages - that the Indians would return and massacre them.

The acting of Johnson and the other Danites who were with him was so good that after a consultation the emigrants decided to follow his advice. The conclusion was that, as Johnson was friendly with the Indians, and could talk their language, he should go and see the Indians and try and get the stock back.

The emigrants waited in the desert, and Johnson went to the Indians, or pretended to do so. After a few hours he returned, and reported that the Indians were hostile, and threatened to attack the train at once; that he was afraid he could not prevent it, and the only chance for the emigrants lay in their instant departure; that while the emigrants were gaining a place of safety he would, at the risk of his life, make an effort to keep the Indians back and pacify them. Also that he would report to Hamblin as soon as possible, and raise a force of men at the fort and get back the stock, if it could be done, and write to the company, giving an account of his success. They were to get his letter at San Bernardino, and if he recovered the stock the emigrants could send back a party to receive it and drive it to California.

Under the circumstances the company adopted his plan, and he left them on the desert, with all their stock gone; but the danger was over, for the stock was what Hamblin and Johnson had been working for.

Johnson returned and ordered the Indians to drive the stock to the Clara. The Indians acted like good Mormons, and obeyed orders. Hamblin gave them a few head of cattle for their services in aiding him to capture the drove. The remainder of the cattle and horses Hamblin took charge of for the benefit of the Mission. As the cattle became fat enough for beef, they were sold or butchered for the use of the settlers. Some were traded to nearby settlements for sheep and other articles.

In the winter of 1857-8 John Weston, a Danite, took an Irishman who had been stopping with him as his guest on a hunt, and when he got him to the brush and timber four miles west of Cedar City he cut his throat and left the body unburied. He had received orders to kill the man, because Brother Haight considered him a spy.

Near the same time Philip Klingensmith, a Danite, laid in ambush to kill Robert Keyes (now a resident of Beaver City, Utah Territory), while Keyes was irrigating his field. Klingensmith decided to kill Keyes because Keyes refused to give testimony when requested to do so by Klingensmith, who was then a bishop of the Church. When Keyes came within a few feet of his hiding place Klingensmith raised his gun and took aim at Keyes' heart; but the cap burst without exploding the powder, and Keyes escaped.

After the Mountain Meadows massacre Haight reported that I was the big captain who had planned, led, and executed it; that the honor of such a deed for avenging of the blood of the Prophets would lead to honor, immortality, and eternal life in the Kingdom of God. In this way it became a settled fact that I was the leader in that affair. Year by year the story has gained ground and strength, until I am now held responsible, and am to die, to save the Church.

As I have stated in other places in my writings, the people in Utah who professed the Mormon religion were at and for some time before the Mountain Meadows massacre full of wildfire and zeal, anxious to do something to build up the Kingdom of God on earth and waste the enemies of the Mormon religion. At that time it was a common thing for small bands of people on their way from California to pass through Cedar City. Many of these people were killed. When a Gentile came into a town he was looked upon with suspicion, and most of the people considered every stranger a spy from the United States army. The killing of Gentiles was a means of grace and a virtuous deed. I remember an affair that took place at the old distillery in Cedar City, just before the massacre.

Three men came to Cedar City one evening; they were poor, and much worn by their long journey. They were on their way to California. The authorities believed they were dangerous men; that they were spies from Johnston's army; and ordered the Danites to devise a plan to put them out of the way decently and in order.

That the will of God might be done, these men were coaxed to go to the old distillery and take a drink. They went in company with Danites John M. Higbee, John Weston, James Haslem, and Wm. C. Stewart, and another man, whose name I have forgotten. The party drank considerable, and when the emigrants got under the influence of the whisky the brethren attacked them and knocked the brains out of two with the kingbolt of a wagon. The third man was powerful and muscular; he fought valiantly for his life, but after a struggle he was overcome and killed. They were buried near Cedar City.

Some time in the fall of 1857, not long after the Mountain Meadows massacre, it was decided by the authorities at Salt Lake City that Lieut. Tobin must be killed. Tobin had left a train in Salt Lake, joined the Church there, and afterwards married a daughter of Brother Charles C. Rich, one of the twelve apostles. Tobin was a smart man, and soon after his marriage he was sent to England on a mission.

While preaching in England, it was reported that he had committed adultery, and he was ordered home. On his arrival in Salt Lake he was cut off from the Church, and his wife taken from him by order of Brigham. He made several efforts to get out of the Territory.

Finally he joined a company and left Salt Lake, intending to go to California. After he had been gone a few days the Destroying Angels were put on his trail, with orders to kill him before they returned.

Two desperate Danites were selected, who knew nothing but to obey orders: Joel White and John Willis were the Danites. They started on the trail, determined to kill Tobin when they found him.

White and Willis overtook the company that Tobin was traveling with at a point near the crossing of the Magottsey. They found where he was sleeping, and, going to him as he lay on the ground rolled up in his blanket, they shot him several times. Although thinking him dead, they concluded to shoot him once more to make certain that he would not escape, so they put a pistol against his eye and fired; the ball put out his eye, but did not kill him. The Angels made their escape and returned to Salt Lake City, and reported that their orders were obeyed. Severely wounded as he was, Tobin recovered, and was, when I last heard from him, in the Union army.

At Parowan, in 1855 or 1856, there was a man by the name of Robert Gillespie. He was a member of the Church, had one wife, and owned a fine property. Gillespie wanted to be sealed to his sister-in-law, but for some reason his request was denied. He had known of others obtaining wives by committing adultery and then being sealed to avoid scandal. So he tried it, and went to Apostle Smith, and again asked to be sealed to the woman. But Brother Smith refused to seal him or let him be sealed, giving as his reason for refusing, that Gillespie had exercised the rights of sealing without first obtaining orders to do so. A warrant was issued and Gillespie was arrested and placed under guard; he was also sued in the Probate Court, before James Lewis, Probate Judge, and a heavy judgment rendered against him, and all of his property was sold to pay the fine and costs. The money was put into the Church fund and Gillespie was broken up.

The fate of old man Braffett, of Parowan, was a peculiar one, and, as it afterwards led me into trouble, I will give the story briefly. Old man Braffett lived at Parowan, and in the fall of 1855 a man by the name of Woodward came to Braffett's house and stopped to recruit his teams before crossing the deserts. Woodward had two wives. He had lived in Nauvoo, and while there had been architect for the Nauvoo House. While Woodward and his family were stopping with Braffett, one of his wives concluded that she would be damned if she went to live in California, - leaving the land of the Saints, - and she asked to be divorced from Woodward and sealed to Braffett.

At first Braffett refused to take her, but she was a likely woman. She made love to the old man in earnest. Mrs. Braffett made a fuss about it. The authorities were informed of Braffett's transgressions, and he was arrested and taken before the Probate Judge and tried for the sin. He made a bill of sale of some of his property to me, for which I paid him before his trial.

After hearing the case, the Probate Judge fined him one thousand dollars, and ordered him to be imprisoned until fine and costs were paid. Ezra Curtis, the then marshal at Parowan, took all of Braffett's property that could be found and sold it for the purpose of paying the fine; but the large amount of property which was taken was sold for a small sum, for the brethren will not bid much for property taken from one who has broken his covenants.

Being unable to pay the fine, the old man was ordered to be taken to Salt Lake City, to be imprisoned in the prison there. I was selected to take him to Salt Lake. I took the old man there, and, after many days spent in working with Brigham, I succeeded in securing a pardon for him.

Braffett was put to work at Salt Lake by Brigham. He dared not return home at that time. His property was gone, and he was ruined. The part I took to befriend the old man made several of the brethren at Parowan angry with me, and they swore they would have revenge against me for interfering where I was not interested.

After Braffett's pardon I stayed in Salt Lake some time, and when I started home there were quite a number of people along. All the teams were heavily loaded; the roads were bad, and our teams weak. We all had to walk much of the time. After we had passed the Severe River the road was very bad. My team was the best in the whole company, and I frequently let some of the women who were in the party ride in my wagon.

One evening, just about dark, I was asked by a young woman named Alexander to let her ride, as she was very tired walking. I had her get into the wagon with my wife Rachel, and she rode there until we camped for the night. I got into the wagon after dark and drove the team. We had ridden in this way an hour or so, when Rachel said she was going to ride a while in the next wagon, which was driven by son-in-law Dalton.

Soon after Rachel got out of the wagon a couple of my enemies rode by. I spoke to them, and they rode on. As soon as these men reached the camp they reported that I had been taking privileges with Sister Alexander. I was told to consider myself under arrest, and that when we reached Parowan I would be tried by the Council for violating my covenants. I was surprised and grieved at the charge, for I was innocent, and the young woman was a virtuous woman. As God is soon to judge me, I declare that I never knew of her committing any sin.

When we reached Parowan there was a meeting called by the Priesthood to try me. This Council was composed of the President of that Stake of Zion and his two Counselors, the High Council, and the leading men of Parowan. It was a general meeting of the authorities, Church and civil.

The meeting was held in a chamber that was used for a prayer circle. It was called a circle room, because the people met there to hold prayer in a circle, which was done in this way: All the brethren would kneel in a circle around the room, near enough to each other for their arms to touch, so that the influence would be more powerful.

When the meeting was called to order, all the lights were put out; and I was taken into the darkened room and placed on trial. I could not see my hand before my face. The charge was stated to me and I was ordered to confess my guilt. I told them I was innocent; that I had committed no crime - in fact, had not thought of wrong. I told the truth, just as it was. I was then ordered to stand one side.

The young woman was then brought into the room, and as she came in a pistol was placed to my head and I was told to keep silent. She was questioned and threatened at length, but not all the threats they could use would induce her to tell a falsehood. She insisted that I was entirely innocent.

Next her father, an old man, was introduced and questioned. He told the Council that he had diligently inquired into the matter, and believed I was innocent. Neither the young woman nor her father knew who was in the room. All they knew was that they were being examined before the secret tribunal of Utah, and that a false oath in that place would insure their death.

When the evidence had been received, and the witnesses retired, the candles were again lighted. Then speeches were made by most of the men present, and every one but two spoke in favor of my conviction. Without taking a vote, the meeting adjourned, or rather left that place and went somewhere else to consult. I was left in the dark, the house locked and guards placed around the building. I was told that my fate would soon be decided, and I would then be informed. I knew so well the manner of dealing in such cases that I expected to be killed in the dark, but for some reason it was not done.

Next morning some food was brought to me, but I was still kept a prisoner and refused the liberty of consulting with friends or any of my family. Late that day I looked out of the window of the chamber where I was confined, and saw a man by the name of John Steel. He was first Counselor to the President of that Stake of Zion. I called to him and asked him to secure my freedom. After stating the case to him, he promised to see what could be done for me, and went away.

Through his exertions I was released. I was told to go home and hold myself subject to orders - that my case was not yet decided. I went home, but for months I expected death every day; for it is the usual course of the authorities to send an Angel after men who are charged with or suspected of having violated their covenants.

Nothing further was done about the case, but it was held over me as a means of forcing me to live in accordance with the wishes of the Priesthood and to prevent me from again interfering with the Church authorities when they saw fit to destroy a man, as they destroyed old man Braffett; and it did have the effect of making me more careful.

In 1854 (I think that was the year) there was a young man, a Gentile, working in Parowan. He was quiet and orderly, but was courting some of the girls. He was notified to quit, and let the girls alone, but he still kept going to see them. This was contrary to orders. No Gentile is allowed to keep company with or visit any Mormon girl or woman.

The authorities decided to have the young man killed, so they called two of Bishop Dames' Destroying Angels, Barney Carter and old man Gould, and told them to take that young Gentile "over the rim of the basin." That was a term used by the Danites when they killed a person. The Destroying Angels made some excuse to induce the young man to go with them on an excursion, and when they got close to Shirts' mill, near Harmony, they killed him and left his body in the brush.

The Indians found the body, and reported the facts to me soon afterwards. I was not at home that night, but Carter and Gould went to my house and stayed there all night. Rachel asked them where they had been. They told her they had been on a mission to take a young man, a Gentile, over the rim of the basin, and Carter showed her his sword, which was bloody, and said he used it to help the Gentile over the edge. Rachel knew what they meant when they spoke of sending him "over the rim of the basin." It was at that time a common thing to see Danites going out of Cedar City and Harmony, with suspected Gentiles, to send them "over the rim of the basin," and the Gentiles were always sent.

This practice was supported by the people, and everything of that kind was done by orders from the Council, or by orders from some of the Priesthood. When a Danite or a Destroying Angel was placed on a man's track, that man died, certain, unless some providential act saved him, as in Tobin's case.

The Mormons believe in blood atonement. It is taught by the leaders, and believed by the people, that the Priesthood are inspired and cannot give a wrong order. It is the belief of all that I ever heard talk of these things - and I have been with the Church since the dark days in Jackson County - that the authority that orders is the only responsible party and the Danite who does the killing only an instrument, and commits no wrong. In other words, if Brigham or any of his apostles, or any of the Priesthood, gives an order to a Danite, the act is the act of the one giving the order, and the Danite doing the act only an instrument of the person commanding - just as much an instrument as the knife used to cut the throat of the victim. This being the belief of all good Mormons, it is easily understood why the orders of the Priesthood are so blindly obeyed by the people.

In 1857 there was an emigrant, a Gentile, who worked a number of months for Captain Jacob Huffine, at Parowan. This man wanted his pay; it was not convenient to pay him; he insisted on being paid, but not getting his wages, determined to leave. He started for the settlement at Summit, about seven miles from Parowan. The Indians were sent for and ordered to overtake and kill the man. They did so, and shot him full of arrows. The man called to the Indians and told them he was a Mormon and that they must not kill him. The Indians replied by saying:

"We know you; you are no Mormon, you are a Mericat."

They beat his head with rocks, and cut his throat, and then went back to Parowan and reported what they had done.

Brother Lancy had formed the acquaintance of the family of Aden while on a mission to Tennessee, and was saved by Mr. Aden from a mob that threatened his death because he was a Mormon preacher. When Fancher's train reached Parowan, Brother Laney met young Aden and recognized him as the son of the man who had saved his life. Aden told him he was hungry, and that he and his comrades had been unable to purchase supplies from the Mormons ever since they left Salt Lake City.

Brother Laney took young Aden to his house, gave him his supper, and let him sleep there that night. The next day Laney was accused by leading men of being unfaithful to his obligations. They said he had supported the enemies of the Church and given aid and comfort to one whose hands were still red with the blood of the Prophet. A few nights after that the Destroying Angels, doing the bidding of Bishop Dame, were ordered to kill Brother Laney to save him from his sins, he having violated his endowment oath and furnished food to a man who had been declared an outlaw by the Mormon Church.

The Angels were commanded by Barney Carter, a son-in-law of Bishop Dame. The Angels called Laney out of the house, saying that Bishop Dame wished to see him. As Laney passed through the gate into the street he was struck across the back of the head with a club by Barney Carter. His skull was fractured and for many months Laney lay at the point of death, and his mind still shows the effect of the injury he then received, for his brain has never quite settled since. I have frequently talked with Laney. He is still strong in the Mormon faith, and believes that Dame had the right to have him killed. Punishment by death is the penalty for refusing to obey the orders of the Priesthood. About this time the Church was in the throes of a "reformation."

One of the objects of the reformation was to place the Priesthood in possession of every secret act and crime that had been committed by a member of the Church. These secrets were obtained in this way: a meeting would be called; some Church leader would make a speech, defining the duties that the people owed the Priesthood, and instructing the people why it was necessary that the Priesthood should control the acts of the people; it was preached that to keep back any fact from the knowledge of the Priesthood was an unpardonable sin.

After one or more such discourses the people were called upon by name, commanded to rise from their seats, and standing in the midst of the congregation publicly confess their sins. If the confession was not full and complete, it was made the duty of the members of the Church, or any one of them who knew that the party confessing had committed a crime which he or he had not divulged, to then make public the same.

Unless the party then confessed, a charge was preferred against him or her for a violation of covenants, and either full confession and repentance immediately followed, or the sinful member was slain for the remission of sins - it being taught by the leaders, and believed by the people, that the right thing to do when a sinner did not repent and obey the Council, was to take the life of the offending party and thus save his or her everlasting soul. This was called Blood Atonement. The members who fully confessed their sins were again admitted into the Church and rebaptized, taking new covenants to obey any and all orders of the Priesthood and refuse all manner of assistance, friendship, or communication with those who failed of strict obedience to the authorities of the Church. The most deadly sin among the people was adultery, and many men were killed by the Danites for that crime.

Brother Rosmos Anderson was a Danish man who had come to Utah with his family to receive the benefits arising from an association with the Latter-day Saints. He had married a widow lady somewhat older than himself; and she had a daughter who was fully grown. The girl was anxious to be sealed to her stepfather. Anderson was equally anxious to take her for a second wife, but Bishop Klingensmith had set his eye on her, and desired her for himself.

At one of the meetings Anderson and his stepdaughter confessed they had committed adultery, believing that if they did so that Brigham would allow them to marry when he learned the facts. Their confession being full, they were rebaptized and received into full membership. They were then placed under covenant that if they again committed adultery Anderson should suffer death.

Soon after this a charge was laid against Anderson before the Council, accusing him of adultery with his stepdaughter. This Council was composed of Bishop Klingensmith and his two counselors; it was the Bishop's Council. The Council voted that Anderson must die for violating his covenants. Bishop Klingensmith went to Anderson and told him the judgment was that he must die by having his throat cut, so that the running of his blood would atone for his sins.

Anderson, being a firm believer in the doctrine of Blood Atonement and the teachings of the Mormon Church, made no protest, but asked half a day to prepare for death. His request was granted. His wife was ordered to prepare a suit of clean clothing, in which to have her husband buried, and informed that he was to be killed for his sins, she being directed to tell those who inquired after her husband that he had gone to California.

Bishop Klingensmith and Danite James Haslem dug a grave in a field near Cedar City, and that night, about twelve o'clock, went to Anderson's house and told him to make ready to obey the Council. Anderson got up, dressed himself, bid his family good- by, and without remonstrance accompanied those he believed were carrying out the will of Almighty God. They went to the place where the grave was prepared, Anderson kneeling by the side of the grave and praying. Bishop Klingensmith then cut Anderson's throat and held him so that his blood ran into the grave.

As soon as he was dead they dressed him in his clean clothes, threw him into the grave and buried him. They then carried his bloody clothing back to his family, and gave them to his wife to wash, when she was again instructed to say that her husband was in California. She obeyed their orders.

No move of that kind was made in Cedar City unless by order of the Council or of the High Council. Anderson was killed just before the Mountain Meadows massacre. The killing of Anderson was a religious duty and a just act. It was justified by the people, for they were bound by the same covenants, and the least word of objection to thus treating the man who had broken his covenant would have brought the same fate upon the person wicked enough to raise his voice against the Church authorities.

Brigham knew that I was not a man who liked to take life. I was well known as one that stood high in the confidence of Brigham, and was close-mouthed and reliable. I knew of many men being killed in Nauvoo by the Danites. It was then the rule that all the enemies of the Prophet Joseph should be killed, and I know of many a man who was quietly put out of the way by the orders of Joseph and his apostles while the Church was there. It has always been a well understood doctrine of the Church that it is right and praiseworthy to kill every person who speaks evil of the Prophet. This doctrine was strictly lived up to in Utah, until the Gentiles arrived in such numbers that it became unsafe to follow the practice; but the doctrine is believed, and no year passes without one or more of those who have spoken evil of Brigham being killed, in a secret manner. Springfield, Utah, was one of the Church hotbeds, and more men were killed there, in proportion to population, than in any other part of Utah. In that settlement it was certain death to say a word against the authorities, high or low.

Brother Warren Snow was bishop of the Church at Manti, San Pete County, Utah. He had several wives, but there was a fair young woman in the town that Snow wanted for a wife. He made love to her with all his powers, went to parties where she was, visited her at her home, and proposed to make her his wife. She thanked him for the honor offered, but told him she was engaged to a young man, a member of the Church, and consequently could not marry the old priest.

This was no sufficient reason to Brother Snow. He told her it was the will of God that she should marry him, and she must do so; that the young man could be got rid of - sent on a mission or dealt with in some way so as to release her from her engagement; that, in fact, a promise made to the young man was not binding when she was informed that it was contrary to the wishes of the authorities.

The girl continued obstinate.

The "teachers" of the town visited her and advised her to marry Bishop Snow. Her parents, under the orders of the Counselors of the Bishop, also insisted that their daughter marry the old man.

She still refused.

Then the authorities called on the young man and directed him to give up the girl. This he steadfastly declined to do. He was promised Church preferment, celestial rewards, and everything that could be thought of - all to no purpose. He said he would die before he would surrender his intended wife.

This resistance of authority by the young people made Bishop Snow more anxious than ever to marry the girl. The young man was ordered on a mission to some distant locality. But the mission was refused.

It was then determined that the rebellious young man should be forced by harsh treatment to respect the advice and orders of the Priesthood. His fate was left to Bishop Snow.

It was decided to call a meeting of the people who lived true to counsel, to be held in the schoolhouse in Manti, at which the young man should be present, and dealt with according to Snow's will. The meeting was called. The young man was there, and was again requested to surrender the young woman to Snow, but he refused.

The lights were then put out. An attack was made on the young man. He was tied down with his back to a bench, when Bishop Snow took a bowie knife and slashed and mutilated him. They left the young man weltering in his blood. During the night he succeeded in releasing himself from his confinement, and dragged himself to some haystacks, where he lay until the next day, when he was discovered by friends. The young man has been an idiot or quiet lunatic ever since.

Bishop Snow took soon occasion to get up another meeting at the schoolhouse, so as to have the people of Manti and the young woman that he wanted to marry attend the meeting. When all had assembled the old man talked to the people about their duty to the Church, their obligation to obey counsel and the dangers of refusal; and called attention to the case of the young man. The young woman was sealed to Bishop Snow.



CHAPTER XIX - THE MOUNTAIN MEADOWS

My time I find is getting short. To continue as I have the story of the little details and what befell as we crossed the plains for the promised land of Utah would need more days than I have left me. I will go then direct to the story of the Mountain Meadows troubles for which I am to die, as I desire that the facts as they occurred should be known. As a duty to myself, I purpose to give a statement of all I know in that affair. I did not act alone; I had many to assist me at Mountain Meadows.

Those who were connected with the massacre, and took part in the transaction, were moved by a religious duty. All were acting under the orders and by command of their Church leaders. The immediate orders for the killing of the emigrants came from those in authority at Cedar City. I and those with me moved by virtue of positive orders from Brother Haight and his associates.

Before I started on my mission to the Mountain Meadows I was told by Brother Haight that his orders to me were the result of full consultation with Bishop Dame and all in authority. The massacre was decided on by the head men of the Church.

To approach this subject properly I must step backward several years. After the destruction of Nauvoo, when the Mormons were driven from the State of Illinois, I shared the fate of my brethren, and partook of the hardships and trials that befell them from that day until the time of the settlement of Salt Lake City, in the then wilderness. After reaching Salt Lake I stayed but a short time, when I went to live at Cottonwood, where the mines were afterwards discovered by General Connor and his men during the late war. I was just getting fixed to live there, when I was ordered to go into the interior and aid in forming new settlements and in opening up the country. I had no wish or desire, save to know and do the will of Brigham, since I had become his adopted son. I believed that Brigham spoke by direction of the God of Heaven, and I would have suffered death rather than disobey any request of his.

At the command of Brigham, I took one hundred and twenty-one men, went in a southern direction from Salt Lake City, and laid out and built up Parowan. George A. Smith was the leader and chief man in authority in that settlement. I acted under him as historian and clerk of the Iron County Mission, until January, 1851. I went with Brigham, acted as a committeeman, and located Provo, St. George, Fillmore, Parowan, and other towns, and managed the location of many of the settlements in southern Utah.

In 1852 I moved to Harmony, and built up that settlement. I remained there until the Indians declared war against the whites and drove the settlers into Cedar City and Parowan, for protection, in the year 1853. I removed my then numerous family to Cedar City, where I was appointed Captain of the Danites, and commander of Cedar City.

After I had commanded at Cedar City about one year I was ordered to return to Harmony and build the Harmony Fort. This order, like all other orders, came from Brigham. When I returned to Harmony and commenced building the fort, the orders were given by Brigham for the reorganization of the Danites at Cedar City. The old men were requested to resign and younger men were appointed in their places.

About the 7th of September, 1857, I went to Cedar City from my home in Harmony, by order of Brother Haight. I did not know what he wanted of me, but he had ordered me to visit him, and I obeyed. If I remember correctly, it was on Sunday evening that I went there.

When I got to Cedar City I met Haight on the public square of the town. Haight was then President of that Stake of Zion, and the highest man in the Mormon Priesthood, and next to Bishop Dame in southern Utah, and in the command of the Iron District. The word and command of Haight were the law in Cedar City at that time, and to disobey his orders was death; be they right or wrong, no Saint was to question them; it was obedience or death.

When I met Haight I asked him what he wanted with me. He said he must have a long talk with me on private and particular business. We took blankets and went over to the old Iron Works, and lay there that night, so that we could talk in safety.

After we got to the Iron Works Haight told me about the train of emigrants. He said that the emigrants were a rough and abusive set of men. That they had, while traveling through Utah, been abusive to the Mormons. That they had insulted many of the Mormon women. That the abuses heaped upon the people by the emigrants during their trip from Provo to Cedar City had been constant and shameful; that they had burned fences and destroyed growing crops; that they had poisoned the water, so that all people and stock that drank of the water became sick, and many had died from the effects of the poison. That these vile Gentiles publicly proclaimed that they had the very pistol with which the Prophet Joseph was murdered, and had threatened to kill Brigham and all of the apostles. That, when in Cedar City, they said they would hang Brigham by the neck until he was dead, before snow fell in the Territory. They also said that Johnston was coming with his army from the East, and they were going to return from California with soldiers, as soon as possible, and desolate the land and kill every Mormon man, woman, and child they could find in Utah. That they violated the ordinances of the town of Cedar, and had, by armed force, resisted the officers who tried to arrest them for violating the law. That after leaving Cedar City the emigrants camped in the company, or cooperative field just below Cedar City, and burned the fencing, leaving the crops open to the herds of stock. Also that they had given poisoned meat to the Corn Creek tribe of Indians, which had killed several of them, and that they and their Chief, Konosh, were on the trail of the emigrants, and would soon attack them. These things, and much more of like kind, Haight told me as we lay in the dark at the old Iron Works.

Brother Haight said that unless something was done to prevent it the emigrants would rob every one of the outlying settlements in the south, and that the whole Mormon people were liable to be butchered by the troops the emigrants would bring back with them from California. I was then told that the Council had held a meeting that day, to consider the matter, and it had been decided by the authorities to arm the Indians, give them provisions and ammunition, and send them after the emigrants. The Indians were to give them a brush, and if they killed part or all of them, so much the better.

"Brother Haight, who is your authority?" I said.

"It is the will of all in authority," he replied. "The emigrants have no pass to go through the country, and they are to be killed as common enemies, for the country is at war now. No man has a right to go through this country without a written pass."

We lay and talked much of the night, and during that time Haight gave me instructions as to what to do, and how to proceed in the affair. He said he had consulted with Bishop Dame, and everyone had agreed to let the Indians use up the whole train if they could. Haight then continued:

"I expect you to carry out your orders."

Then I knew I must obey, or die. I had no wish to disobey, for my superiors in the Church are the mouthpieces of Heaven, and it is an act of godliness to obey any and all orders given by them, without asking questions.

My orders were to go home to Harmony and see Carl Shirts, my son- in-law, an Indian interpreter, and send him to the Indians in the south, to notify them that the Mormons and Indians were at war with the "Mericats" (as the Indians called all whites that were not Mormons), and bring the southern Indians up and have them join with those from the north, so their force would be sufficient to make a successful attack on the emigrants.

It was agreed that Haight would send Nephi Johnson, another Indian interpreter, to stir up what other Indians he could find, so that we might have a large enough force to give the emigrants a good hush. In conclusion Haight said to me:

"These are the orders that have been agreed upon by the Council, and it is in accordance with the feelings of the entire people. Some of the Indians are now on the warpath, and all of them must be sent out; all must go, so as to make the thing a success."

It was then intended that the Indians should kill the emigrants, and make it an Indian massacre, and not have any whites interfere with them. No whites were to be known in the matter; it was to be done by the Indians, so that it could be laid to them, if questions were asked. We agreed upon the whole thing, how each should act, and left the Iron Works, and went to Haight's house and got breakfast. After breakfast I made ready to start, and Haight said to me:

"Go, Brother Lee, and see that the instructions of those in authority are obeyed; and as you are dutiful in this, so shall your reward be in the Kingdom of God, for God will bless those who willingly obey counsel, and make all things fit for the people in these last days."

At this time the Mormons were at war with the United States, and the orders to the Mormons were to kill and waste away our enemies, but lose none of our own people These emigrants were from the section of country most hostile to our people, and it was the will of every true Mormon that the enemies of the Church should be killed as fast as possible, and inasmuch as this lot had men among them that had helped kill the Prophets in the Carthage jail, the killing of them would be keeping our oaths and avenging the blood of the Prophets. I will give my talk with Brother George A. Smith.

In the latter part of the month of August, 1857, about ten days before the people of Capt. Fancher, who met their doom at Mountain Meadows, arrived at that place, Gen. George A. Smith called on me at one of my homes in Washington City, Washington County, Utah Territory, and wished me to take him round by Fort Clara, via Pinto Settlements, to Hamilton Fort and Cedar City. He said:

"I have been sent down here by Brigham, to instruct the brethren of the different settlements not to sell any of their grain to our enemies. And to tell them not to feed it to their animals, for it will all be needed by ourselves. I am also to instruct the brethren to prepare for a big fight, for the enemy is coming in force to attempt our destruction. But Johnston's army will not be allowed to approach our settlements from the east. God is on our side, and will fight our battles for us, and deliver our enemies into our hands. Brigham has received revelations from God, giving him the right and the power to call down the curse of God on all our enemies who attempt to invade our Territory. Our greatest danger lies in the people of California - a class of reckless miners who are strangers to God and His righteousness. They are likely to come upon us from the south and destroy the small settlements. But we will try and outwit them before we suffer much damage. The people of the United States who oppose our Church are a mob, from the President down, and as such it is impossible for their armies to prevail against the Saints who have gathered here in the mountains."

Gen. Smith held high rank as a military leader. He was one of the twelve apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and an inspired man. His orders were sacred commands, which it was my duty to obey, without question or hesitation.

The day we left Fort Clara, then the headquarters of the Indian missionaries under the presidency of Jacob Hamblin, we stopped to noon at the Clara River. While there the Indians gathered around us in numbers, and were saucy and impudent. Their chiefs asked me where I was going and whom I had with me. I told them that he was a big captain.

"Is he a Mericat captain?"

"No," I said, "he is a Mormon."

The Indians then demanded to know more. They wanted to have a talk. The General told me to tell the Indians that the Mormons were their friends, and that the Americans were their enemies, and the enemies of the Mormons, too; that he wanted the Indians to remain the fast friends of the Mormons, for the Mormons were all friends to the Indians; that the Americans had a large army just east of the mountains, and intended to come over the mountains into Utah and kill all the Mormons and Indians in Utah Territory; that the Indians must get ready and remain ready for war against the Americans, keep friendly with the Mormons and do what the Mormons told them to do - that this was the will of the Great Spirit; that if the Indians were true to the Mormons and helped them against their enemies, the Mormons would keep them from want and sickness and give them guns and ammunition to hunt and kill game with, and also help the Indians against their enemies when they went into war.

This talk pleased the Indians, and they agreed to all that I asked them to do. I saw that Gen. Smith was nervous and fearful of the Indians, notwithstanding their promises of friendship. To relieve him of his anxiety I hitched up and started on our way as soon as I could do so without rousing the suspicions of the Indians. We had ridden along about a mile or so when Gen. Smith said:

"Those are savage fellows. I think they would make it lively for an emigrant train if one should come this way." Then the General fell to a deep study for some time, when he said: "Suppose an emigrant train should come along through this southern country, making threats against our people and bragging of the part they took in killing our Prophets, what do you think the brethren would do with them? Would they be permitted to go their way, or would the brethren pitch into them and give them a good drubbing?" I reflected a few moments, and then said:

"You know the brethren are now under the influence of the late reformation, and red-hot for the gospel. The brethren believe the Government wishes to destroy them. Any train of emigrants that may come through here will be attacked and destroyed. I am particularly sure they will be wiped out if they have been making threats against our people. Unless emigrants have a pass from Brigham, they will never get safely through this country."

My reply pleased him, and he laughed heartily, and then said:

"Do you believe the brethren would make it lively for such a train?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, "I know they will, unless protected by a pass, and I wish to tell you, and you must inform Brigham, that if he wants emigrants to pass without being molested he must send orders to that effect to Bishop Dame or Brother Haight, so that they can give passes to the emigrants; their passes will insure safety, but nothing else will, except the positive orders of Brigham, as the people are bitter against the Gentiles, full of religious zeal, and anxious to avenge the blood of the Prophets."

The only reply he made was to the effect that on his way down from Salt Lake he had had a long talk with Haight on the same subject, and that Haight had assured him, and given him to understand, that emigrants who came along without a pass from Brigham could not escape from the Territory. We then rode along in silence for some distance, when he again turned to me and said:

"Brother Lee, I am satisfied that the brethren are under the holy influence, and I believe they will do just as you say they will with the wicked emigrants that come through the country, making threats and abusing our people."

Thereupon I repeated my views to him, but at much greater length. I went into a statement of the wrongs of our people, and told him that the people were under the blaze of the reformation, full of wildfire, and that to shed the blood of those who would dare speak against the Mormon Church or its leaders would be doing the will of God, and the people would do it as cheerfully as they would any other duty. That the Apostle Paul was not more sincere than was every Mormon who lived in southern Utah. My words served to cheer up the General; he was delighted, and said:

"I am glad to hear so good an account of our people. God will bless them for all they do to build up His Kingdom in the last days."

On my way from Cedar City to my home in Harmony I came up with a band of Indians under Moquetas and Big Bill, two Cedar City chiefs; they were in their paint, and fully equipped for battle. They halted when I came up and said they had had a big talk with Haight, Higbee, and Klingensmith, and got orders from them to follow up the emigrants and kill them all, and take their property as a spoil.

These Indians wanted me to go with them and command their forces. I told them I could not go with them that evening; that I had orders from Haight, the Big Captain, to send other Indians on the warpath to help them kill the emigrants, and must attend to that first; that I wanted them to go where the emigrants were and camp until the other Indians joined them; that I would meet them the next day and lead them. This satisfied them, but they wanted me to send my little Indian boy, Clem, with them. After some time I consented to let Clem go with them, while I returned home.

When I got home I told Carl Shirts what the orders were that Haight had sent to him. Carl being naturally cowardly was not willing to go, but I told him the orders must be obeyed. He started that night, or early next morning, to stir up the Indians of the south, and lead them against the emigrants. The emigrants were then camped at Mountain Meadows.

The Indians did not obey my instructions. They met, several hundred strong, at the Meadows, and attacked the emigrants Tuesday morning, just before daylight, and at the first fire killed seven and wounded sixteen of the emigrants. The latter fought bravely, and repulsed the Indians, killing many of them and breaking the knees of two chiefs, who afterwards died.

The news of the battle was carried over the country by Indian runners, and the excitement was great in all the small settlements. I was notified of what had taken place early Tuesday morning, by an Indian who came to my house and gave me a full account of what had been done.

The Indian said it was the wish of the Indians that I lead them, and I must go back with him to the camp. I started at once, and taking the Indian trail over the mountain I reached the camp by going twelve miles. To go round by the wagon road would have been between forty and fifty miles.

When I reached the camp I found the Indians in a frenzy of excitement. They said they had been told that they could kill the emigrants without danger to themselves, but they had lost numbers of their bucks, and others were wounded, and unless they could kill all the "Mericats," as they called them, they would declare war against the Mormons and kill everyone in the settlements. I did as well as I could under the circumstances. My talk served to increase their excitement. I told them I would go south and meet their friends, and hurry them up to help them.

At first the Indians would not consent, but they finally said I might go and meet their friends. I then got on my horse and left the Meadows and went south. I had traveled about sixteen miles when I met Carl Shirts with one hundred Indians and a number of Mormons from the southern settlements. They were going to the scene of conflict. How they learned of the emigrants being at the Meadows I never knew, but they did know it, and were coming armed, and determined to obey orders.

Among those that I remember to have met there were Brothers Samuel Knight, Oscar Hamblin, William Young, Carl Shirts, Harrison Pearce, James Pearce, John W. Clark, William Slade, Sr., James Matthews, Dudley Leavitt, William Hawley, William Slade, Jr., George W. Adair, and John Hawley.

The Mormons camped that night with me, but most of the Indians rushed on to their friends at the camp on the Meadows. I reported to the brethren what had taken place at the Meadows, but none were surprised in the least. I spent much of the night in prayer. I wrestled with God for wisdom to guide me.

In the morning we agreed to go on to Mountain Meadows and camp there, and then send a messenger to Haight. We knew that the original plan had been for the Indians to do the work, and the Mormons to do nothing beyond plan for and encourage them. Now we saw the Indians could not do the work, and we were in a fix. I did not then know that a messenger had been sent to Brigham for instructions. Haight had not mentioned it to me; James Haslem, a Danite, was sent to Brigham.

We went to the Meadows and camped at the springs, about half a mile from the emigrant camp. There were a larger number of Indian there - fully three hundred, and I think as many as four hundred of them. The two chiefs who had been shot were in a bad way. The Indians had killed a number of the emigrants' horses, and about sixty or seventy head of cattle were lying dead on the Meadows, which the Indians had killed for spite and revenge.

Our company butchered a small beef for dinner, and after eating a hearty meal we held a council and decided to send a messenger to Brother Haight. The messenger started for Cedar City, from our camp on the Meadows, about 2 o'clock, p. m. We stayed on the field, and I tried to quiet and pacify the Indians, by telling them that I had sent to Haight, the Big Captain, for orders, and when he sent his order I would know what to do. This appeared to satisfy the Indians, for said they:

"The Big Captain will send you word to kill the Mericats."

Along toward evening the Indians again attacked the emigrants. This was Wednesday. I heard the report of their guns, and the screams of the women and children in the corral. I ran with Brothers William Young and John Mangum, to where the Indians were. While on the way to them they fired a volley, and three balls from their guns cut my clothing. One ball went through my hat and plowed through my hair. Another ball went through my shirt and leaded my shoulder, another cut my clothes across my bowels. I thought this was rather warm work, but I kept on until I reached the place where the Indians were in force.



CHAPTER XX - THE MUSTER OF THE DANITES

On Thursday, about noon, several Danites joined us from Cedar City. I cannot remember the order in which the brethren came to the Meadows, but I do recollect that at this time and in this company were Brothers Joel White, William C. Stewart, Benjamin Arthur, Alexander Wilden, Charles Hopkins, and James Tate. These men said little, but everyone seemed to know what he was there for. As our messenger had gone for further orders, we moved camp about four hundred yards further up the valley on to a hill, where we made a camp as long as we stayed there.

The emigrants' wagons were corralled after the Indians made the first attack. On the day following our arrival the emigrants drew their wagons closer together and chained the wheels one to the other. While they were doing this there was no shooting going on. Their camp was about one hundred yards above and north of the spring. They generally got water from the spring at night.

Thursday morning I saw two men start from the corral with buckets, and run to the spring and fill them with water, and go back again. The bullets flew around them thick and fast, but they got into their corral in safety.

The Indians made a determined attack on the train on Thursday morning about daylight. At this attack the Clara Indians had one buck killed and three wounded. This so enraged them that they left for home, driving a number of cattle with them. During the day I said to Brother John Mangum:

"I will cross the valley and go up on the other side, on the hills to the west of the corral, and take a look at the situation."

As I was crossing the valley I was observed by the emigrants, and as soon as they saw that I was a white man they ran up a white flag in the middle of their corral or camp. They then sent two little boys from the camp to talk to me, but I could not talk to them at that time, for I did not know what orders Brother Haight would send to me, and until I had his orders I would not know how to act. I hid, to keep away from the children. They came to the place where they had last seen me and hunted all around for me, but being unable to find me they turned and went back to the camp in safety. It is false what has been told about little girls being dressed in white and sent out to me. There was nothing of the kind done. I stayed on the west side of the valley for about two hours, looking down into the emigrant camp.

While I was standing on the hill looking into the corral I saw two men leave the corral and go outside to cut wood; the Indians and Mormons kept up a busy fire all the time, but the two paid no attention to danger, and stuck to their work until they had it done; then they went back to camp. The men acted so bravely that it was impossible to keep from respecting them. After staying there and looking down into the camp awhile I returned to my company.

On Thursday evening Higbee, Chief of the Iron Danites, and Klingensmith, Bishop of Cedar City, came to our camp with two or three wagons and a number of Danites all well armed. I can remember the following as a portion of those who came to take part in the work of death which was so soon to follow, viz.: Brothers John M. Higbee, Chief of the Iron Danites, and also first Counselor to Brother Haight; Philip Klingensmith, Bishop of Cedar City; Ira Allen, of the High Council; Robert Wiley, of the High Council; Richard Harrison, of Pinto, also a member of the High Council; Samuel McMurdy, one of the Counselors of Klingensmith; Charles Hopkins, of the Counselors of Cedar City; Samuel Pollock; Daniel McFarland, a son-in-law of Haight; John Ure, of the City Council; George Hunter, of the City Council; Samuel Jukes; Nephi Johnson, with a number of Indians under his command; Irvin Jacobs; John Jacobs; E. Curtis, a Captain of Ten; Thomas Cartwright, of the City and High councils; William Bateman, who afterwards carried the flag of truce into the emigrant camp; Anthony Stratton; A. Loveridge; Joseph Clews; Jabez Durfey; Columbus Freeman. There were others whose name have slipped me. I know that our total force was fifty-four Danites and three hundred Indians. As soon as these gathered around the camp I demanded of Brother Higbee what orders he had brought. I then told all that had happened at the Meadows, so that every person might understand the situation. Brother Higbee reported as follows:

"It is the orders that the emigrants be put out of the way. President Haight has counseled with Bishop Dame, and has orders from him to put the emigrants to death; none who is old enough to talk is to be spared."

Brother Higbee then said substantially that the emigrants had come through the country as our enemies, and as the enemies of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. That they had no pass from anyone in authority permitting them to leave the Territory. That none but friends were permitted to leave the Territory, and as these were our sworn enemies they must be killed. That they were nothing but a portion of Johnston's army. That if they were allowed to go on to California they would raise the war cloud in the West and bring destruction upon all the settlements in Utah. That the only safety for the people was in the utter destruction of the whole rascally lot.

The Danites then in Council now knelt down in a prayer circle and prayed, invoking the Spirit of God to direct them how to act in the matter. After prayer Brother Higbee said:

"Here are the orders," and handed me a paper from Haight.

The paper read in substance that we were to decoy the emigrants from their position and kill all that could talk. This order was in writing. Brother Higbee handed it to me and I read it. The orders were that the emigrants should be decoyed from their stronghold, and exterminated, and no one left to tell the tale. Then the authorities could say it was done by Indians. Haight told me the next day that he got his orders from Bishop Dame.

After the Council I retired and bowed in prayer before God. Brother Hopkins, a man in whom I had great confidence, came to me from the Council, saying that he believed it was right, for the brethren and the Priesthood were united in the thing. At the solicitation of Brother Hopkins I returned with him to the Council. When I got back the Council again prayed for aid. The Council formed a prayer circle, and kneeling down, so that elbow touched elbow, the Danites prayed for Divine instructions. After prayer Brother Higbee said:

"I have the evidence of God's approval of our mission. It is God's will that we carry out our instructions to the letter." He then said to me: "Brother Lee, I am ordered by President Haight to inform you that you shall receive a crown of celestial glory for your faithfulness, and your eternal joy shall be complete." I was much shaken by this promise.

The meeting was then addressed by me. I spoke in about this language:

"Brethren, we have been sent to perform a duty. It is a duty that we owe God and our Church and people. The orders are that the emigrants must die. Our leaders speak with inspired tongues, and their words come from the God of Heaven. We have no right to question what they have commanded us to do; it is our duty to obey. On Wednesday night two of the emigrants got out of camp and started back to Cedar City for assistance to withstand the Indian attacks; they had reached Richards' Springs when they met Brothers William C. Stewart, Joel White, and Benjamin Arthur, three of our Danite brethren from Cedar City. The men stated their business to the brethren, and as their horses were drinking at the spring Brothers Stewart, feeling for the glory of God and the upbuilding of the Kingdom of God on earth, shot and killed one of the emigrants, a young man by the name of Aden. When Aden fell from his horse Brother Joel White shot and wounded the other Gentile; but he got away, and returned to his camp and reported that the Mormons were helping the Indians in all they were doing. Now the emigrants will report these facts in California if we let them go. We must kill them all, and our orders are to get them out by stratagem if no other thing can be done to put them in our power."

The plan of action had been agreed upon, and it was this: The emigrants were to be decoyed from their stronghold under a promise of protection. Brother Bateman was to carry a flag of truce and demand a parley, and then I was to go and arrange the terms of surrender. I was to demand that all the children who were so young they could not talk should be put into a wagon, and the wounded were likewise to be put into another. Then the arms and ammunition of the emigrants must be put into a third; I agreeing that the Mormons would protect the emigrants from the Indians and conduct them to Cedar City in safety, where they would be safe until an opportunity came for sending them to California.

It was understood that when I had made the treaty the wagons would start for Hamblin's Ranch with the arms, the wounded, and the children. The women were to march out on foot and follow the wagons in single file; the men were to follow the women, they also to march in single file.

Brother Higbee was to stand with his Danites about two hundred yards from the camp, double file, open order, with about twenty feet space between the files so that the wagons could pass between them. The drivers were to whip along, and not stop. The women were not to stop, but to follow the wagons. The Danites were to halt the men for a few minutes, until the women were some distance ahead and among the cedars, where the Indians were in ambush. Then the march was to be resumed, the troops to form in single file, each Danite to walk by an emigrant, and on the right-hand side of his man, the Danite to carry his gun on his left arm, ready for instant use. The march was to continue until the wagons had passed beyond the ambush of the Indians, and the women were in their midst. Brother Higbee was then to give the order:

"Do Your Duty to God!"

At this the Danites were to shoot down the men; the Indians were to kill the women and larger children, and the drivers of the wagons and I were to kill the wounded and sick men that were in the wagons. Two men were to be placed on horses near by, to overtake and kill any of the emigrants that might escape the first assault. The Indians were to kill the women and large children, as we desired to make certain that no Mormon would be guilty of shedding innocent blood - if it should happen that innocent blood was in the company that were to die. Our leading men all said, however, there was no innocent blood in the whole company.

The Council broke up a little after daylight on Friday morning. All the horses, except two for the men detailed to overtake those who might escape, and one for Brother McFarland to ride, so that he could carry orders from one part of the field to another, were turned out on the range. Then breakfast was eaten, and the brethren prepared for the work in hand.

The Mormons were then at war with the United States, and we believed all Gentiles should be killed as a war measure, to the end that the Mormons, as God's chosen people, hold and inhabit the earth and rule and govern the globe.

Soon after breakfast Brother Higbee ordered the two Indian interpreters, Carl Shirts, and Nephi Johnson to inform the Indians of the plan of operations, and place them in ambush, so that they could not be seen by the emigrants until the work of judgment should commence. This was done in order to make the emigrants believe that we had sent the Indians away. The orders were obeyed, and in five minutes not an Indian could be seen on the Meadows. They secreted themselves and lay still as logs of wood, until the order was given them to rush out and kill the women.

Brother Higbee called the people to order and directed me to explain the plan to them. I did so, explaining how every person was expected to act during the whole performance. Brother Higbee then gave the order for his men to advance. They marched to the spot agreed upon, and halted there. Brother William Bateman was then selected to carry a flag of truce to the emigrants and demand their surrender; I was to go and make the treaty after someone had replied to our flag of truce. The emigrants had kept a white flag flying in their camp ever since they saw me cross the valley.

Brother Bateman took a white flag and started for the emigrant camp. When he got about halfway to the corral he was met by one of the emigrants. The two talked some time, but I never knew what was said between them.

Brother Bateman returned to the command and said that the emigrants would accept our terms, and surrender as we required them to do. I then started for the corral to negotiate the treaty and superintend the business. I was to make certain and get the arms and ammunition into the wagons. Also to put the children and the sick and wounded in the wagons, as agreed upon in Council. Brother Higbee said to me:

"Brother Lee, we expect you to faithfully carry out the instructions that have been given you by our Council."

Two Danites, Samuel McMurdy and Samuel Knight, were then ordered to take their teams and follow me into the corral to haul off the children and arms. The troops formed in two lines, as had been planned, and were standing in that way, with arms at rest, when I left them. I walked ahead of the wagons to the corral. When I reached it I met Mr. Hamilton, one of the emigrant leaders on the outside of their camp.



CHAPTER XXI - THE BLOOD FEAST OF THE DANITES

It was then noon, or a little after. I found the emigrants strongly fortified; their wagons were chained to each other in a circle. In the center was a rifle-pit, large enough to hold the entire company. This had served to shield them from the constant fire which had been poured into them from both sides of the valley and a rocky range that served as a breastwork for their assailants.

The valley at this point is not more than five hundred yards wide, and the emigrants had their camp near the center of the valley. On the east and west there is a low range of rugged, rocky mountains; it afforded a splendid place for the protection of the Indians and Danites, leaving them in comparative safety while they fired upon the emigrants. The valley at this place runs nearly due north and south.

When I entered the corral I found the emigrants engaged in burying two men of note among them, who had died but a short time before from the effect of wounds received from the Indians at the time of the first attack on Tuesday morning. They wrapped the bodies in buffalo robes, and buried them in a grave inside the corral. I was told by some of the men that seven men had been killed and seventeen wounded in the first attack made by the Indians, and that three of the wounded men had since died, making ten of their number killed during the siege.

As I entered the fortifications men, women, and children gathered around me in wild consternation. Some felt that the time of their happy deliverance had come, while others, though in deep distress, and all in tears, looked upon me with doubt, distrust, and terror. I told the people they must put their arms into the wagon, so as not to arouse the animosity of the Indians. I ordered the children and wounded, some clothing, and the arms to be put into the wagons. Their guns were mostly Kentucky rifles of the muzzle-loading style. Their ammunition was about all gone - I do not think there were twenty rounds left in their whole camp. If the emigrants had had a good supply of ammunition they never would have surrendered, and I do not think we could have captured them without great loss, for they were brave men, very resolute and determined.

Just as the wagons were loaded Brother McFarland came riding into the corral and said that Brother Higbee had ordered haste to be made, as he was afraid the Indians would return and renew the attack before he could get the emigrants to a place of safety. I hurried the people, and started the wagons off towards Cedar City. As we went out of the corral I ordered the wagons to turn to the left, so as to leave the Danites on the right.

Brother McFarland rode before the women and led them out to the Danites, where they still stood in open order as I had left them. The women and larger children were walking ahead, as directed, the men following them. The foremost man was about fifty yards behind the last woman.

The women and children were hurried on by the Danites. When the men came up they cheered the Danites. Brother Higbee then gave orders for his men to form in single file and take each his place at the right hand of an emigrant. I saw that much, then our wagons passed out of sight of the troops, over the hill.

It was my duty, with the two drivers, to kill the sick and wounded who were in the wagons, and do so when we heard the guns. I was walking between the wagons; the horses were going at a fast walk, and we were fully a half mile from Brother Higbee and his men when we heard the firing. As we heard the guns I ordered a halt and we proceeded to do our part. I here pause and ask myself the question: Am I not a traitor to my people, to my friends and comrades who were with me on that holy day when the work of the Church was carried on in God's name?

Heretofore I have said that the small children were put into the wagons; that was wrong, for one little child, about six months old, was carried in its father's arms. It was killed by the same bullet that entered its father's breast. It was shot through the head. I was told by Brother Haight afterwards that the child was killed by accident. I saw it lying dead when I returned to the place of judgment.

When we had got out of sight, as I said before, and just as we were coming into the main road, I heard a volley of guns at the place where I knew the Danites and emigrants to be. Our teams were then going at a brisk walk. I first heard one gun; then a volley followed.

Brothers McMurdy and Knight stopped their teams at once, for they were to help kill the sick and wounded who were in the wagons, and do it as soon as they heard the guns of the Danites. Brother McMurdy was in front; his wagon was mostly loaded with the arms and small children. Brothers McMurdy and Knight got out of their wagons; each one had a rifle. Brother McMurdy went up to Brother Knight's wagon, where the sick and wounded were, and raising his rifle to his shoulder, said:

"O Lord, my God, receive their spirits; it is for Thy Kingdom I do this."

He then shot a man who was lying with his head on another man's breast; the ball killed both men.

Then I went up to the wagon to do my part of the killing. I drew my pistol and cocked it, but it went off prematurely, and shot Brother McMurdy across the thigh, my pistol ball cutting his buckskin trousers. Brother McMurdy turned to me and said:

"Brother Lee, keep cool. Keep cool, there is no reason for being excited."

Brother Knight then shot a man with his rifle; he shot the man in the head. He also brained a boy that was about fourteen years old. The boy came running up to our wagons, and Brother Knight struck him on the head with the butt end of his gun and crushed his skull.

By this time many Indians had reached our wagons, and the rest of the sick and wounded were killed almost instantly. I saw an Indian from Cedar City, called Joe, run up to the wagon and catch a man by the hair, raise his head up and look into his face; the man shut his eyes, and Joe shot him in the head. The Indians then examined the wounded in the wagons, and all of the bodies, to see if any were alive, and any that showed signs of life was shot through the head.

Just after the wounded were killed I saw a girl, some ten or eleven years old, running towards us from the place where the Danites had attacked the main body of emigrants; she was covered with blood. An Indian shot her before she got within sixty yards of us.

After all were dead I ordered Brother Knight to drive one side and throw out the dead bodies. He did so, and threw them out of his wagon at a place about one hundred yards from the road, and then came back to where I was standing. I then told Brothers Knight and McMurdy to take the children that were saved alive (sixteen was the number), and drive to Hamblin's ranch. They did as I ordered them to do.

Before the wagons started Nephi Johnson came up in company with the Indians that were under his command, and Carl Shirts I think came up too. I then considered Carl Shirts a coward, and afterwards made him suffer for being a coward. Several Danites joined me, but I cannot tell their names, as I have forgotten who they were.

After the wagons with the children had started for Hamblin's ranch, I turned and walked back to where the brethren were. While returning to the brethren I passed the bodies of several women. In one place I saw six or seven bodies near each other; they were stripped naked. I walked along the line where the emigrants had been killed, and saw many bodies dead and naked on the field. I saw ten children; they had been killed close to each other; they were from ten to sixteen years of age. The bodies of the women and children were scattered about the ground for quite a distance. Then I came to where the men were killed. I do not know how many were killed, but I thought then that there were fifteen women, ten children, and forty men killed, but the statement of others with whom I have since talked about the massacre makes me believe there were fully one hundred and ten justified that day on the Mountain Meadows. The ten who had died in the corral, and young Aden killed by Brother Stewart at Richards' Springs, would make the total number one hundred and twenty-one.

When I reached the place where the dead men lay, I was told how the orders had been obeyed. Brother Higbee said:

"The boys have acted admirably; they took good aim; and all of the Gentiles but three fell at the first fire."

Brother Higbee said that three or four got away some distance, but the men on horses soon overtook them and cut their throats. He said the Indians did their part of the work well, that it did not take over a minute to finish up when they got fairly started. Three of the emigrants did get away, but the Indians were put on their trail and overtook and killed them before they reached the settlements in California. I found Brothers Higbee, Klingensmith, and most of the brethren standing where the largest number of the dead men lay. Brother Higbee said: