REMOVE TO MISSOURI—NATIONAL ANNIVERSARY AT FAR WEST—CORNER STONE OF A TEMPLE—INSURRECTIONS—DEFENCE—ATTACK ON DE WITT, CARROLL COUNTY—MOB CHAPLAIN—SURRENDER AND FLIGHT OF THE CITIZENS OF DE WITT—ACTION OF THE GOVERNOR—GENERAL DEFENCE—BATTLE OF CROOKED RIVER—DEATH OF COLONEL PATTEN—DEFENCE CONSTRUCTED INTO MURDER AND TREASON—MUSTER OF STATE FORCES AGAINST THE “MORMONS,” WITH ORDERS FOR EXTERMINATION—GENERAL LUCAS, WITH FOUR THOUSAND MEN, MENACES FAR WEST.
In April, 1838, I took leave of New York, and, with a small colony, emigrated once more to Missouri. We settled in Caldwell County in May. Here I again commenced anew; built a house and made a farm. I also devoted much of my time to the ministry; I visited many different neighborhoods, and was everywhere received with hospitality, and listened to with interest and attention.
On the 4th of July, 1838, thousands of the citizens who belonged to the Church of the Saints assembled at the City of Far West, the county seat of Caldwell, in order to celebrate our nation’s birth. We erected a tall standard, on which was hoisted our national colors, the stars and stripes, and the bold eagle of American liberty. Under its waving folds we laid the corner stone of a Temple of God, and dedicated the land and ourselves and families to Him who had preserved us in all our troubles. An address was then delivered by S. Rigdon, in which was portrayed in lively colors the oppression which we had suffered at the hands of our enemies. We then and there declared our constitutional rights as American citizens, and manifested our determination to resist, with our utmost endeavors from that time forth, all oppression, and to maintain our rights and our freedom, according to the holy principles of liberty, as guaranteed to every person by the Constitution and laws of our country.
This declaration was received with shouts of hosannah to God and the Lamb, and with many long cheers by the assembled thousands, who were determined to yield their rights no more, unless compelled by superior power.
Soon after these things the war clouds began again to lower with dark and threatening aspect. Those who had combined against the laws in the adjoining counties, had long watched our increasing power and prosperity with jealousy, and with greedy and avaricious eyes. It was a common boast that, as soon as we had completed our extensive improvements, and made a plentiful crop, they would drive us from the State, and once more enrich themselves with the spoils.
Accordingly, at an election held in Davies County, a portion of these bandits undertook to prevent the members of the Church of the Saints from voting—forcing them from the poll box, and threatening to kill whoever should attempt to vote. As some voters were attacked they defended themselves, knocked down several of their opponents, gained the victory, and cast in their votes.
This was a pretext for a general rising of the insurrectionists in all the adjoining counties. They were alarmed for fear the “Mormons,” as they called them, should become so formidable as to maintain their rights and liberties, insomuch that they could no more drive and plunder them. Public meetings were held in Carroll, Saline, and other counties; in which resolutions were passed and published, openly declaring the treasonable and murderous intention of driving the citizens belonging to the Church from their counties, and, if possible, from the State.
Resolutions to this effect were published in the journals of Upper Missouri, and this without a single remark of disapprobation. Nay, more: this murderous gang, when assembled in arms and painted like Indian warriors, and when openly committing murder, robbery, house burning, and every crime known to the laws, were denominated citizens, whites, etc., in most of the journals of the State. While those who stood firm to the laws of the land, and only defended themselves, and their homes and country, were denominated “Mormons,” in contradistinction to the appellation of “citizens,” “whites,” etc., as if we had been some savage tribe, or some colored race of foreigners.
In pursuance of the resolutions thus passed and published, a formidable banditti were soon assembled under arms, to the amount of several hundred, and rendezvoused in Davies County. Here they commenced firing upon our citizens, plundering, and taking peaceable citizens prisoners. The people of the Church made no resistance, except to assemble on their own ground for defence. They also made oath before the District Judge, Austin A. King, to the above outrages.
One thousand men were then ordered into service, under the command of Major-General Atchison, and Brigadier-Generals Parks and Doniphan. These marched to Davies County and remained in service thirty days. But, judging from the result, they had no intention of coming in contact with the mob, but only to make a show of defending one neighborhood, while the mob were allowed to attack another. The gang now withdrew from Davies County and proceeded to De Witt, Carroll County. Here they laid seige for several days, and subsisted by plunder and robbery, watching every opportunity to fire upon our citizens.
At this time they had one or more pieces of artillery, in addition to small arms and ammunition in abundance. A Presbyterian priest, “Rev.” Sashel Woods, served as chaplain to the gang, and said prayers in the camp evening and morning. They succeeded in killing a number of citizens in and about De Witt. They also turned a gentleman, named Smith Humphrey, and his wife and children out of doors, when sick, and setting fire to the house, burned it to ashes before their eyes. At length they succeeded in driving every citizen from the place, at the sacrifice of everything which they could not take with them.
This happened during a cold, stormy time in October; and, as many of the citizens were sickly, and robbed of shelter and everything comfortable, they came near perishing. Some of them, in fact, did perish before they arrived in Caldwell, a distance of sixty miles. Here the survivors were hospitably taken in by their brethren. The militia, under General Parks, made some show of trying to prevent these outrages; but all in vain. At length the General informed the citizens that his forces were so small, and many of them so much in favor of the insurrectionists, that it was useless to look any longer to them for protection.
Several messages were also sent to the Governor, Lilburn W. Boggs, the old mob-leader, imploring protection. But he was utterly deaf to everything which called for the protection of the “Mormons,” as he called us. But, on the contrary, he harkened to the insinuations of the mob which were without shadow of foundation. At one time he called out an army, and put himself at their head to march against the “Mormons.” But, as he approached the upper country with this formidable force of several thousand men, he was officially notified that the “Mormons” were not in a state of insurrection, but were the victims of those who were so, and that they needed his help.
His Excellency then disbanded his forces, and returned to Jefferson City, to await till the mobs should compel the “Mormons” to some act which might be considered illegal, which would give him some pretext for driving them from the State.
After the evacuation of De Witt, when our citizens were officially notified that they must protect themselves, and expect no more protection from any department of the State Government, they assembled in Far West to the number of one thousand men, or thereabout, and resolved to defend their rights to the last. A call was made upon every person who could bear arms to come forward in defence of our houses, homes, wives and children, and the cause of our country and our God. In the meantime the bandits, elated with success and emboldened by the negligence of every department of the State Government, were increasing in numbers daily. They were concentrating in Davies County, with artillery and military stores, with open threats that they would now drive the citizens from Davies and Caldwell Counties.
In their marauding expeditions they took a number of citizens prisoners. Among these was Mr. Amasa Lyman, a minister of the gospel, and an excellent citizen of Caldwell County. They kept him prisoner for a number of days, while his family were in suspense and knew not his fate. They abused him in various ways, and held frequent consultations to kill him; but at length he was set at liberty.
The people of Davies County assembled several hundred men for defence. Several parties of the banditti were met, disarmed and dispersed. A detachment under Colonel D. W. Patten, marched against their main body with a posse of about one hundred men, met and dispersed them, with the loss of their artillery and some military stores. Another party were dispersed and disarmed by the Sheriff of Caldwell County and his posse, as they were on the march through that county to reinforce the banditti of Davies.
While these transactions were going forward, small parties of the enemy were busily engaged among the settlements, in plundering and burning houses; driving women and children from their homes to perish with hunger and cold, and robbing them of beds, bedding, furniture, wearing apparel, etc., etc. Hundreds were thus compelled to flee to the cities and strongholds. Many women and children came in at the dead hours of the night, and in the midst of dreadful storms of rain and snow, in which they came near perishing.
While these things were transpiring in Davies, Caldwell was threatened from every quarter. Her citizens were driven from her frontiers, and came pouring into the town of Far West, from day to day, with women, children, goods, provisions, etc.; in short, with everything moveable which they had time to bring. Lands and crops were abandoned to the enemy. The citizens were under arms from day to day, and a strict military guard was maintained every night. Men slept in their clothes, with arms by their sides, and ready to muster at a given signal at any hour of the night.
During this state of alarm guns were fired and the signal drum beat in the middle of a dark and gloomy night of October. The citizens came running together with arms in hand. An express had arrived from the south part of the county, stating that a party of the enemy were plundering houses, carrying off prisoners, killing cattle, and ordering families out of their houses, on pain of having them burned over their heads. A portion of the militia, under Captain Durphy, went with a deputy sheriff to the scene of the riot. I was one of the posse, the whole consisting of about sixty men.
This company was soon under way, having to ride through extensive prairies a distance of some twelve miles. The night was dark, the distant plains far and wide were illuminated by blazing fires, immense columns of smoke were seen rising in awful majesty, as if the world was on fire. This scene of grandeur can only be comprehended by those acquainted with scenes of prairie burning; as the fire sweeps over millions of acres of dry grass in the fall season, and leaves a smooth, black surface divested of all vegetation.
The thousand meteors, blazing in the distance like the camp-fires of some war host, threw a fitful glearn of light upon the distant sky, which many might have mistaken for the Aurora Borealis. This scene, added to the silence of midnight, the rumbling sound of the tramping steeds over the hard and dried surface of the plain, the clanking of swords in their scabbards, the occasional gleam of bright armor in the flickering firelight, the gloom of surrounding darkness, and the unknown destiny of the expedition, or even of the people who sent it forth; all combined to impress the mind with deep and solemn thoughts, and to throw a romantic vision over the imagination, which is not often experienced, except in the poet’s dreams, or in the wild imagery of sleeping fancy.
In this solemn procession we moved on for some two hours, when it was supposed we were in the neighborhood of danger. We were then ordered to dismount and leave our horses with a guard. This done, we proceeded on foot for a mile or two in search of the enemy. We had not proceeded far when, as we entered the wilderness, we were suddenly fired upon by an unknown enemy in ambush. One of our little number fell at the first fire, being mortally wounded; his name was Obanyon. At a short distance we could now behold the camp-fires of the enemy. It was now dawn of day in the eastern horizon, but darkness still hovered over the scenes of conflict. Orders were issued to form in the brush, and under cover of the trees, which was instantly done. The fire now became general on both sides, and the whole wilderness seemed one continued echo of the report of the deadly rifle. After a few rounds of discharges, orders were given to charge the enemy in the camp. As we rushed upon them the strife became deadly, and several fell on both sides. At this instant a ball pierced the brave Colonel, David Patten, who was then at my side, and I saw him fall. Being on the eve of victory, I dared not stop to look after his fate, or that of others, but rushed into the enemy’s camp. This was located on the immediate banks of Crooked River, which was here several rods wide, and not fordable. The enemy, being hard pushed, flung themselves into the stream, and struggled for the other shore. Those who reached it soon disappeared.
The firing now ceased, and the wilderness resounded with the watchword, “God and Liberty.”
Our little band, which had been thrown into some disorder, were instantly formed, and their pieces reloaded. This done, a detachment surveyed the field, to look after the wounded. I turned to Gideon Carter, who was lying on his face, and saw him die. His face was so marred and disfigured with wounds and blood that I did not recognize him then, but learned afterwards that we had mistaken him for one of the enemy, and left him on the ground in mistake. I next found David Patten, whom, a few minutes previously, I had seen fall. He could speak, but was lying on his side, pale and almost dying, a ball having pierced the lower part of his body. Many others were wounded, and some dangerously.
The enemy had left their horses, saddles, camp and baggage, in the confusion of the flight. We harnessed some of their horses and placed them before a wagon, arranged blankets therein, on which we laid those who were not able to mount a horse; this done, our whole troop mounted the horses we had taken and formed in front and rear of the wagon which bore the wounded. We then moved slowly back to the guard and horses we had left. Here we halted and readjusted the wounded. It was an awful sight to see them pale and helpless, and hear their groans. There were about six of our men wounded, and one left dead on the ground. The enemy suffered a similar loss, besides their camp, and many of their arms and military stores.
We ascertained from the prisoners whom we rescued, that the enemy consisted of about sixty marauders, headed by a Methodist preacher, named Bogart. Our posse who were actually engaged, could not have been more than fifty. At the commencement of the engagement there were three of our fellow citizens held as prisoners in their camp; they had been kidnapped from their peaceful homes the day previous. Two of these made their escape at the commencement of the engagement; the third was shot through the body in attempting to run to our lines, but fortunately recovered.
Having now arranged everything to the best advantage for the wounded, we made slowly on towards Far West. When we came within five miles of the city our express had reached there with the news of the battle, and we were met by a surgeon and others for our relief. Among those who met us here was the wife of the pale and dying Patten. Our wounded were now taken into a house, and their wounds dressed. As Mrs. Patten entered the room, and cast her eyes upon the pale and ghastly features of her husband, she burst into tears, exclaiming: “O God! O my husband! How pale you look!”
He was still able to speak, but he died that evening in the triumphs of faith. The young Obanyon also died about the same time. The others recovered of their wounds, but one of them named Hendrix is still a cripple. Patten and Obanyon were buried together, under military honors; a whole people, as it were, followed them to the grave. All wept, whose feelings were not too intense to find vent in tears. He was the only member of the quorum of the Twelve who had as yet found a martyr’s grave. He was a great and good man, and one who chose to lay down his life for the cause of truth and right; for this privilege he had diligently sought and prayed; “for,” said he, “I had rather die than live to see it thus in my country.”
But, to return to the main thread of my narrative: having conveyed the wounded to their place of hospitality, the posse hastened to Far West, and delivered the spoils of the enemy to the colonel of the regiment, who afterwards delivered them to the higher civil or military authorities of the State.
These several defeats of the insurrectionists in Davies County, as well as in Caldwell County, checked for a time their ruinous ravages. They saw that it was impossible to conquer a people who were fighting for their homes, their wives and children, as well as for their country and conscience, unless they could come against them with some show of authority; for it had become an established fact that the people of the Saints never resisted authority, however abused.
The next exertion of the enemy was to spread lies and falsehoods of the most alarming character. All our acts of defence were construed into insurrection, treason, murder and plunder. In short, the public were deceived by bigotry, priestcraft, and a corrupt press, and made to look upon all our acts of defence precisely as they would look upon the same acts performed, without cause or provocation, upon peaceable citizens. Murderous gangs were construed into peaceable militia in the State service, and to resist them was, on the part of the Saints, murder, treason and robbery. And, finally, the whole was treated abroad as the “Mormon insurrection,”—“Mormon war,” etc.
And, as if this were not enough, parties set fire to their own houses, or that of their neighbors, and then laid it to the Saints. Whole neighborhoods were falsely alarmed, or rather really alarmed, by the doings of these bandits; and in their fright they fled to more distant places of security, and clamored loudly to the State authorities for protection from the “Mormons,” whom they represented as burning, plundering, and destroying all before them. While they were simply standing on their own ground and maintaining the defensive, and this, too, in the last extreme, and not till they were abandoned by every department of the State Government.
This flame was greatly assisted by several dissenters from the Church through fear, or for love of power and gain. These dissenters became even more false, hardened, and bloodthirsty than those who had never known the way of righteousness. Many of them joined the enemy, and were the leaders in all manner of lying, murder and plunder. The Governor and ex-mobber, Lilburn W. Boggs, who had long sought some opportunity to destroy us, and drive us from the State, now issued an order for some ten thousand troops to be mustered into service and marched to the field against the “Mormons.” He gave the command of this formidable force to General Clark, who lived, perhaps, a hundred and fifty miles or more from the scene of trouble. The order was expressly to exterminate the “Mormons,” or drive them from the State.
It said nothing of criminals; it made no allusion to punishing crime and protecting innocence; it was sufficient to be called a “Mormon.” A peaceable family just emigrating, or passing through the country; a missionary going or coming on his peaceable errand of mercy; an aged soldier of the American revolution on his death bed, or leaning on his staff in the chimney corner; a widow with her babes; the tender wife, or helpless orphan; all were included in this order of wholesale extermination or banishment. It was enough that they believed as Mormon did; or that they were members of the Church of the Saints.
So did the order read, and so it was construed by the officers and soldiers entrusted with its execution. On the other hand, all the bandits, murderers, robbers, thieves, and house burners who had mobbed our people for the five years previous, were now converted into orderly, loyal, patriotic State militia, and mustered into service under pay, or suffered to murder people of every age and sex, and plunder them on their own hook wherever they chose, provided they were considered “Mormons.”
While General Clark was mustering his forces for this wholesale murder and treason, Major General D. Lucas and Brigadier General Moses Wilson, who were well known as the old leaders of the former outrages in Jackson County, under this same Boggs—being nearer the scene of action, and wishing to share the plunder and immortalize their names—put themselves at the head of all the old mobbers of Jackson County they could muster, and all those bandits who had more lately infested the counties of Carroll, Davies and Caldwell, and such other militia as they could muster, and marched directly for the City of Far West, where they arrived while General Clark and his forces were several days’ journey from the scene of action. The army of Lucas, thus mustered and marched, consisted of some three or four thousand men.
In the meantime the Governor’s orders and these military movements were kept an entire secret from the citizens of Caldwell and Davies, who were suffering all this oppression from lawless outrages; even the mail was withheld from Far West. We had only heard that large bodies of armed men were approaching from the south, and we had sent a hundred and fifty men with a flag of truce to make inquiries. While they were absent on this mission an alarm came to town that the whole county to the south was filled with armed men, who were murdering, plundering, and taking peaceful citizens prisoners in their own houses. On the receipt of this intelligence every man flew to arms for the protection of our city.
It was now towards evening, and we had heard nothing from the reconnoitering company who went south in the morning. While we stood in our armor, gazing to the south in anxious suspense, we beheld an army of cavalry with a long train of baggage wagons advancing over the hills, at two miles distance. At first we conjectured it might be our little troop with the flag of truce; but we soon saw that there were thousands of them. Our next thought was that it might be some friendly troops sent for our protection; and then again we thought it might be a concentration of all the bandit forces combined for our destruction.
At all events, there was no time to be lost; for, although our force then present did not exceed five hundred men, yet we did not intend that they should enter the town without giving some account of themselves. We accordingly marched out upon the plains on the south of the city and formed in order of battle. Our line of infantry extended near half a mile. A small company of horses was posted on our right wing on a commanding eminence, and another small company in the rear of our main body, intended as a kind of reserve.
By this time the sun was near setting, and the advance of the unknown army had come within plain view, at less than one mile distant. On seeing our forces presenting a small but formidable front, they came to a halt, and formed along the borders of a stream called Goose Creek.
Both parties sent out a white flag, which met between the armies. Our messenger demanded to know who they were, and what were their intentions? The reply was: “We want three persons out of the city before we massacre the rest!” This was a very alarming and unexpected answer. But they were soon prevailed on to suspend hostilities till morning, by which time we were in hopes to receive some further and more satisfactory information. The enemy, under the command of Major General D. Lucas, of Jackson County mob memory, then commenced their encampment for the night. Our troops continued under arms during the night. The company of a hundred and fifty soon returned from the south, informing us that they had been hemmed in by the enemy during the day, and only escaped by their superior knowledge of the ground.
We also sent an express to Davies County, and by morning were reinforced by quite a number of troops, under the command of Colonel L. White. In the meantime a noted company of banditti, under the command of Cornelius Gillum, who had long infested our borders, and been notorious for their murders and daring robberies, and who painted themselves as Indian warriors, came pouring in from the West to strengthen the camp of the enemy.
Another company of murderers came in from Carroll County, and were taken into the ranks of Lucas, after murdering some eighteen or twenty of our citizens (men, women and children) at Haun’s Mill, of which particulars will be given hereafter. Thus both parties were considerably reinforced during the night. The citizens of Far West being determined, if attacked, to defend their homes, wives and children to the last, spent the night in throwing up a temporary breastwork of building timber, logs, rails, floor plank, etc.
In the morning the south side of the city was thus fortified, and also a considerable portion of the east and west sides—the whole line extending a mile and a half.
EXTERMINATING ORDER—BETRAYAL AND IMPRISONMENT OF JOSEPH SMITH AND OTHERS—CAMP OF THE ENEMY—HOWLINGS OF THE DAMNED—THE ENEMY BOAST OF THE HIGHEST CRIMES—SECRET INQUISITORY TRIAL OF THE PRISONERS—SENTENCE OF DEATH!—HOW REVERSED—A JUDAS—SURRENDER OF FAR WEST—ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE THE PRISONERS—FAREWELL SCENES—CAPTIVES REMOVED TO JACKSON COUNTY—GENERAL CLARK DEMANDS THE PRISONERS—REFUSAL TO SURRENDER THEM—CROSS THE MISSOUR! RIVER—VISITORS—PREACHING IN CAMP BY PRESIDENT SMITH—ARRIVE AT INDEPENDENCE—PUBLIC EXHIBITION OF THE PRISONERS.
October 31, 1838.—In the afternoon we were informed that the Governor had ordered this force against us, with orders to exterminate or drive every “Mormon” from the State. As soon as these facts were ascertained we determined not to resist anything in the shape of authority, however abused. We had now nothing to do but to submit to be massacred, driven, robbed or plundered, at the option of our persecutors.
Colonel George M. Hinkle, who was at that time the highest officer of the militia assembled for the defence of Far West, waited on Messrs. J. Smith, S. Rigdon, Hyrum Smith, L. Wight, George Robinson and myself, with a request from General Lucas that we would repair to his camp, with the assurance that as soon as peaceable arrangements could be entered into we should be released. We had no confidence in the word of a murderer and robber, but there was no alternative but to put ourselves into the hands of such monsters, or to have the city attacked, and men, women and children massacred. We, therefore, commended ourselves to the Lord, and voluntarily surrendered as sheep into the hands of wolves. As we approached the camp of the enemy General Lucas rode out to meet us with a guard of several hundred men.
The haughty general rode up, and, without speaking to us, instantly ordered his guard to surround us. They did so very abruptly, and we were marched into camp surrounded by thousands of savage looking beings, many of whom were dressed and painted like Indian warriors. These all set up a constant yell, like so many bloodhounds let loose upon their prey, as if they had achieved one of the most miraculous victories that ever graced the annals of the world. If the vision of the infernal regions could suddenly open to the mind, with thousands of malicious fiends, all clamoring, exulting, deriding, blaspheming, mocking, railing, raging and foaming like a troubled sea, then could some idea be formed of the hell which we had entered.
In camp we were placed under a strong guard, and were without shelter during the night, lying on the ground in the open air, in the midst of a great rain. The guards during the whole night kept up a constant tirade of mockery, and the most obscene blackguardism and abuse. They blasphemed God; mocked Jesus Christ; swore the most dreadful oaths; taunted brother Joseph and others; demanded miracles; wanted signs, such as: “Come, Mr. Smith, show us an angel.” “Give us one of your revelations.” “Show us a miracle.” “Come, there is one of your brethren here in camp whom we took prisoner yesterday in his own house, and knocked his brains out with his own rifle, which we found hanging over his fireplace; he lays speechless and dying; speak the word and heal him, and then we will all believe.” “Or, if you are Apostles or men of God, deliver yourselves, and then we will be Mormons.” Next would be a volley of oaths and blasphemies; then a tumultuous tirade of lewd boastings of having defiled virgins and wives by force, etc., much of which I dare not write; and, indeed, language would fail me to attempt more than a faint description. Thus passed this dreadful night, and before morning several other captives were added to our number, among whom was brother Amasa Lyman.
We were informed that the general officers held a secret council during most of the night, which was dignified by the name of court martial; in which, without a hearing, or, without even being brought before it, we were all sentenced to be shot. The day and hour was also appointed for the execution of this sentence, viz: next morning at 8 o’clock, in the public square at Far West. Of this we were informed by Brigadier-General Doniphan, who was one of the council, but who was so violently opposed to this cool blooded murder that he assured the council that he would revolt and withdraw his whole brigade, and march them back to Clay County as soon as it was light, if they persisted in so dreadful an undertaking. Said he, “It is cold blooded murder, and I wash my hands of it.” His firm remonstrance, and that of a few others, so alarmed the haughty murderer and his accomplices that they dare not put the decree in execution.
Thus, through a merciful providence of God our lives were spared through that dreadful night. It was the common talk, and even the boast in the camp, that individuals lay here and there unburied, where they had shot them down for sport. The females they had ravished; the plunder they had taken; the houses they had burned; the horses they had stolen; the fields of grain they had laid waste, were common topics; and were dwelt on for mere amusement, or, as if these deeds were a stepstone to office; and it is a fact that such deeds were so considered.
No pen need undertake to describe our feelings during that terrible night, while there confined—not knowing the fate of our wives and children, or of our fellow Saints, and seeing no way for our lives to be saved except by the miraculous power of God. But, notwithstanding all earthly hopes were gone, still we felt a calmness indescribable. A secret whispering to our inmost soul seemed to say: “Peace, my sons, be of good cheer, your work is not yet done; therefore I will restrain your enemies, that they shall not have power to take your lives.”
While thus confined, Wm. E. McLellin, once my fellow laborer in the gospel, but now a Judas, with hostile weapon in hand to destroy the Saints, came to me and observed: “Well, Parley, you have now got where you are certain never to escape; how do you feel as to the course you have taken in religion?” I answered, “that I had taken that course which I should take if I had my life to live over again.” He seemed thoughtful for a moment, and then replied: “Well—I think, if I were you, I should die as I had lived; at any rate, I see no possibility of escape for you and your friends.”
Next morning Gen. Lucas demanded the Caldwell militia to give up their arms, which was done. As soon as the troops who had defended the city were disarmed, it was surrounded by the enemy and all the men detained as prisoners. None were permitted to pass out of the city—although their families were starving for want of sustenance; the mills and provisions being some distance from the city.
The brutal mob were now turned loose to ravage, steal, plunder and murder without restraint. Houses were rifled, women ravished, and goods taken as they pleased. The whole troop, together with their horses, lived on the grain and provisions. While cattle were shot down for mere sport, and sometimes men, women and children fared no better. On the third morning after our imprisonment we were placed in a wagon, in order for removal. Many of the more desperate then crowded around, cocked their rifles, and singling us out presented them to our breasts, and swore they would blow us through. Some guns were snapped, but missed fire, and the rest were in a small degree restrained by the officers, and we still lived.
We were now marched to Far West, under the conduct of the whole army; and while they halted in the public square, we were permitted to go with a guard for a change of linen and to take final leave of our families, in order to depart as prisoners to Jackson County, a distance of sixty miles.
This was the most trying scene of all. I went to my house, being guarded by two or three soldiers; the cold rain was pouring down without, and on entering my little cottage, there lay my wife sick of a fever, with which she had been for some time confined. At her breast was our son Nathan, an infant of three months, and by her side a little girl of five years. On the foot of the same bed lay a woman in travail, who had been driven from her house in the night, and had taken momentary shelter in my hut of ten feet square—my larger house having been torn down. I stepped to the bed; my wife burst into tears; I spoke a few words of comfort, telling her to try to live for my sake and the children’s; and expressing a hope that we should meet again though years might separate us. She promised to try to live. I then embraced and kissed the little babes and departed.
Till now I had refrained from weeping; but, to be forced from so helpless a family, who were destitute of provisions and fuel, and deprived almost of shelter in a bleak prairie, with none to assist them, exposed to a lawless banditti who were utter strangers to humanity, and this at the approach of winter, was more than nature could well endure.
I went to Gen. Moses Wilson in tears, and stated the circumstances of my sick, heart-broken and destitute family in terms which would have moved any heart that had a latent spark of humanity yet remaining. But I was only answered with an exultant laugh, and a taunt of reproach by this hardened murderer.
As I returned from my house towards the troops in the square, I halted with the guard at the door of Hyrum Smith, and heard the sobs and groans of his wife, at his parting words. She was then near confinement; and needed more than ever the comfort and consolation of a husband’s presence. As we returned to the wagon we saw S. Rigdon taking leave of his wife and daughters, who stood at a little distance, in tears of anguish indescribable. In the wagon sat Joseph Smith, while his aged father and venerable mother came up overwhelmed with tears, and took each of the prisoners by the hand with a silence of grief too great for utterance.
In the meantime, hundreds of the brethren crowded around us, anxious to take a parting look, or a silent shake of the hand; for feelings were too intense to allow of speech. In the midst of these scenes orders were given, and we moved slowly away, under the conduct of Gen. Wilson and his whole brigade. A march of twelve miles brought us to Crooked River, where we camped for the night. Here Gen. Wilson began to treat us more kindly; he became very sociable; conversing very freely on the subject of his former murders and robberies committed against us in Jackson. He did not pretend to deny anything; but spoke upon the whole as freely as if he had been giving the history of other ages or countries, in which his audience had no personal concern. Said he:
“We Jackson County boys know how it is; and, therefore, have not the extremes of hatred and prejudice which characterize the rest of the troops. We know perfectly that from the beginning the Mormons have not been the aggressors at all. As it began in ’33 in Jackson County, so it has been ever since. You Mormons were crowded to the last extreme, and compelled to self-defence; and this has been construed into treason, murder and plunder. We mob you without law; the authorities refuse to protect you according to law; you then are compelled to protect yourselves, and we act upon the prejudices of the public, who join our forces, and the whole is legalized, for your destruction and our gain. Is not this a shrewd and cunning policy on our part, gentlemen?
“When we drove you from Jackson County, we burned two hundred and three of your houses; plundered your goods; destroyed your press, type, paper, books, office and all—tarred and feathered old Bishop Partridge, as exemplary an old man as you can find anywhere. We shot down some of your men, and, if any of you returned the fire, we imprisoned you, on your trial for murder, etc. Damn’d shrewdly done, gentlemen; and I came damn’d near kicking the bucket myself; for, on one occasion, while we were tearing down houses, driving families, and destroying and plundering goods, some of you good folks put a ball through my son’s body, another through the arm of my clerk, and a third pierced my shirt collar and marked my neck. No blame, gentlemen; we deserved it. And let a set of men serve me as your community have been served, and I’ll be damn’d if I would not fight till I died.
“It was repeatedly insinuated, by the other officers and troops, that we should hang you prisoners on the first tree we came to on the way to Independence. But I’ll be damn’d if anybody shall hurt you. We just intend to exhibit you in Independence, let the people look at you, and see what a damn’d set of fine fellows you are. And, more particularly, to keep you from that G—d damn’d old bigot of a Gen. Clark and his troops, from down country, who are so stuffed with lies and prejudice that they would shoot you down in a moment.”
Such was the tenor of the conversation addressed by Gen. Wilson to his prisoners. Indeed, it was now evident that he was proud of his prey, and felt highly enthusiastic in having the honor of returning in triumph to Independence with his prisoners, whom his superstition had magnified into something more than fellow citizens—something noble or supernatural, and worthy of public exhibition.
As we arose and commenced our march on the morning of the 3d of November, Joseph Smith spoke to me and the other prisoners, in a low, but cheerful and confidential tone; said he: “Be of good cheer, brethren; the word of the Lord came to me last night that our lives should be given us, and that whatever we may suffer during this captivity, not one of our lives should be taken.” Of this prophecy I testify in the name of the Lord, and, though spoken in secret, its public fulfilment and the miraculous escape of each one of us is too notorious to need my testimony. In the after part of the day we came to the Missouri River, which separated us from Jackson County. Here the brigade was halted and the prisoners taken to a public house, where we were permitted to shave, change our linen, and partake of some refreshment. This done, we were hurried to the ferry and across the river with the utmost haste in advance of the troops. This movement was soon explained to us. The truth was, Gen. Clark had now arrived near the scene of action, and had sent an express to take us from Gen. Wilson and prevent us from going to Jackson County—both armies being competitors for the honor of possessing the wonderful, or, in their estimation, royal prisoners.
Clark and his troops, from a distance, who had not arrived in the city of Far West till after our departure, were desirous of seeing the strange men whom it was said had turned the world upside down and of possessing such a wonderful trophy of victory, or of putting them to death themselves. On the other hand, Wilson and his brigade were determined to exhibit us through the streets of Independence as a visible token of their own achievements. Therefore, when demanded by Gen. Clark’s express, they refused to surrender us; and hurried us across the ferry with all possible despatch. Marching about a mile, we encamped for the night in the wilderness, with about fifty troops for our guard—the remainder not crossing the ferry till the next morning.
Some of the neighboring citizens visited us next morning—it being Sunday. One of the ladies came up and very candidly inquired of the troops which of the prisoners the “Mormons” worshipped? One of the guards pointing to Mr. Smith with a significant smile, said, “This is he.” The woman, then turning to Mr. Smith, inquired whether he professed to be the Lord and Saviour?
Do not smile, gentle reader, at the ignorance of these poor innocent creatures, who, by the exertions of a corrupt press and pulpit, are kept in ignorance and made to believe in every possible absurdity in relation to the Church of the Saints. Mr. Smith replied, that he professed to be nothing but a man, and a minister of salvation, sent by Jesus Christ to preach the gospel. After expressing some surprise, the lady inquired what was the peculiar nature of the gospel, as held by himself and his Church? At this the visitors and soldiers gathered around, and Mr. Smith preached to them faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, repentance towards God, reformation of life, immersion in water, in the name of Jesus Christ, for remission of sins, and the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands.
All seemed surprised, and the lady, in tears, went her way, praising God for the truth, and praying aloud that the Lord would bless and deliver the prisoners.
At ten o’clock the brigade had all crossed the river, and come up with us. We were then marched forward in our carriages, while the troops were formed into a front and rear guard, with quite a martial appearance. As we passed along through the settlements hundreds of men, women and children flocked to see us. General W. often halted the whole brigade to introduce us to the populace, pointing out each of us by name. Many shook us by the hand, and, in the ladies at least, there appeared some feelings of human compassion and sympathy.
In this way we proceeded till we arrived at Independence. It was now past noon, and in the midst of a great rain; but hundreds crowded to witness the procession, and to gaze at us as we were paraded in martial triumph through the principal streets, the bugles sounding a blast of triumphant joy.
TREATMENT OF THE PRISONERS—VISIT THE TEMPLE LOT—GAIN MY FREEDOM—TEMPTATION—VOLUNTARY RETURN TO BONDAGE—LEAVE INDEPENDENCE—CONDUCT OF THE GUARDS—FALL INTO THE HANDS OF COL. PRICE AND GUARDS—ARRIVE AT RICHMOND—CHAINS—INTERVIEW WITH GEN. CLARK—DIALOGUE—INCONCEIVABLE ABSURDITIES.
This ceremony being finished, a vacant house was prepared for our reception, into which we were ushered through the crowd of spectators which thronged every avenue.
The troops were then disbanded. In the meantime we were kept under a small guard, and were treated with some degree of humanity, while hundreds flocked to see us day after day. We spent most of our time in preaching and conversation, explanatory of our doctrines and practice. Much prejudice was removed, and the feelings of the populace began to be in our favor, notwithstanding their former wickedness and hatred. In a day or two we were at liberty to walk the streets without a guard. We were finally removed from our house of confinement to a hotel, where we boarded at the public table, and lodged on the floor, with a block of wood for a pillow. We no longer had any guard; we went out and came in when we pleased—a certain keeper being appointed merely to watch over us, and look to our wants.
With him we walked out of town to the westward, and visited the desolate lands of the Saints, and the place which, seven years before, we had dedicated for the building of a Temple. This was a beautiful rise of ground, about half a mile west of Independence centre. When we saw it last it was a noble forest, but our enemies had since robbed it of every vestige of timber, and it now lay desolate, or clothed with grass and weeds.
O, how many feelings did this spot awaken in our bosoms! Here we had often bowed the knee in prayer, in bygone years. Here we had assembled with hundreds of happy Saints in the solemn meeting, and offered our songs, and sacraments, and orisons. But now all was solemn and lonely desolation. Not a vestige remained to mark the spot where stood our former dwellings. They had long since been consumed by fire, or removed and converted to the uses of our enemies.
While at Independence we were once or twice invited to dine with General Wilson and some others, which we did.
While thus sojourning as prisoners at large, I arose one morning when it was very snowy, and passed silently and unmolested out of the hotel, and as no one seemed to notice me, or call me in question, I thought I would try an experiment. I passed on eastward through the town; no one noticed me. I then took into the fields, still unobserved. After travelling a mile I entered a forest; all was gloomy silence, none were near, the heavens were darkened and obscured by falling snow, my track was covered behind me, and I was free. I knew the way to the States eastward very well, and there seemed nothing to prevent my pursuing my way thither; thoughts of freedom beat high in my bosom; wife, children, home, freedom, peace, and a land of law and order, all arose in my mind; I could go to other States, send for my family, make me a home and be happy.
On the other hand, I was a prisoner in a State where all law was at an end. I was liable to be shot down at any time without judge or jury. I was liable to be tried for my life by murderous assassins, who had already broken every oath of office and trampled on every principle of honor or even humanity. Hands already dripping with the blood of aged sires, and of helpless women and children, were reaching out for my destruction. The battle of Crooked River had already been construed into murder on the part of the brave patriots who there defended their lives and rescued their fellow citizens from kidnappers and land pirates, while the pirates themselves had been converted into loyal militia.
To go forward was freedom, to go backward was to be sent to General Clark, and be accused of the highest crimes, with murderers for judge, jury and executioners.
“Go free!” whispered the tempter.
“No!” said I, “never, while brother Joseph and his fellows are in the power of the enemy. What a storm of trouble, or even of death, it might subject them to.”
I turned on my heel, retraced my steps, and entered the hotel ere they had missed me. As I shook the snow off my clothes the keeper and also brother Joseph inquired where I had been. I replied, just out for a little exercise. A walk for pleasure in such a storm gave rise to some pleasantries on their part, and there the matter ended.
There was one thing which buoyed up our spirits continually during our captivity: it was the remembrance of the word of the Lord to brother Joseph, saying, that our lives should all be given us during this captivity, and not one of them should be lost. I thought of this while in the wilderness vacillating whether to go or stay, and the thought struck me: “He that will seek to save his life shall lose it; but he that will lose his life for my sake shall find it again, even life eternal.” I could now make sure of my part in the first resurrection, as I had so intensely desired when about eleven years old. But, O, the path of life! How was it beset with trials!
At length, after repeated demands, we were sent to General Clark, at Richmond, Ray County. Generals Lucas and Wilson had tried in vain for some days to get a guard to accompany us. None would volunteer, and when drafted they would not obey orders; for in truth, they wished us to go at liberty. At last a colonel and two or three officers started with us, with their swords and pistols, which were intended more to protect us than to keep us from escaping. On this journey some of us rode in carriages and some on horseback. Sometimes we were sixty or eighty rods in front or rear of our guards, who were drinking hard out of bottles which they carried in their pockets.
At night, having crossed the Missouri River, we put up at a private house. Here our guards all got drunk, and went to bed and to sleep, leaving us their pistols to defend ourselves in case of any attack from without, as we were in a very hostile neighborhood. Next morning we rode a few miles, and were met by an express from General Clark, which consisted of one Colonel Sterling Price and a guard of soldiers. This company immediately surrounded us with poised pieces, in regular military order, as if we had been Bonaparte and staff on the way to St. Helena; thinking, perhaps, that if we should escape, the whole United States and all Europe would be immediately overthrown.
In this manner we were escorted to Richmond, the headquarters of General Clark and his army of three or four thousand men. Here, as usual, we had to endure the gaze of the curious, as if we had been a caravan of animals for exhibition. Troops were paraded to receive us, which, as we approached, opened to the right and left, thus forming a long avenue, through which we passed into a block house, and were immediately put in chains, under a strong guard, who stood over us continually with poised pieces, cocked and primed. Colonel Price continued in the superintendence of the prisoners and the guards.
General Clark at length called to see us. He seemed more haughty, unfeeling, and reserved than even Lucas or Wilson had been when we first entered their camp. We inquired of the general what were his intentions concerning us. I stated to him that we had now been captives for many days, and we knew not wherefore, nor whether we were considered prisoners of war or prisoners of civil process, or “prisoners of hope.” At the same time remarking, that all was wrapt in mystery; for, as citizens of the United States and of Missouri, in time of peace, we could in nowise be considered as prisoners of war; and, without civil process, we were not holden by civil authority; and as to being “prisoners of hope,” there was not much chance to hope, from our present appearances!
He replied that “we were taken to be tried.”
“Tried? By what authority?”
“By court martial.”
“What! Ministers of the gospel tried by court martial! Men who sustain no office in military affairs, and who are not subject by law to military duty; such men to be tried by court martial! And this in time of peace, and in a republic where the constitution guaranteed to every citizen the right of trial by jury?”
“Yes. This is in accordance with the treaty of stipulations entered into at Far West at the time of the surrender, and as agreed to by Colonel Hinkle, your commanding officer.”
“Colonel Hinkle, our commanding officer! What had he to do with our civil rights? He was only a colonel of a regiment of the Caldwell County Militia.”
“Why! was he not the commanding officer of the fortress of Far West, the headquarters of the Mormon forces?”
“We had no ‘fortress’ or ‘Mormon forces,’ but were part of the State militia.”
At this the general seemed surprised, and the conversation ended.
We were astonished above measure at proceedings so utterly ignorant and devoid of all law or justice. Here was a Major-General, selected by the Governor of Missouri, and sent to banish or exterminate a religious society. And then, to crown the whole with inconceivable absurdity, said religious society is converted by this officer and his associates into an independent government, or foreign nation. And last, and equally absurd, the State of Missouri assumed her independence of the Federal Government so far as to treat with this imaginary “Mormon Empire,” or foreign nation. A colonel of militia, subordinate to the general then in the field, is converted into a foreign minister, an envoy extraordinary, in behalf of the “Mormon Empire,” to enter into treaty stipulations with his Missouri majesty’s forces, under Generals Lucas, Wilson and Clark!
The City of Far West, the capital of “Mormonia,” is the “Ghent,” where this treaty of peace is ratified. The standing army of the conquered nation stack their arms, which are carried in triumph to Richmond. Preachers of the gospel are converted into “noble” or “royal prisoners,” chained to the car of the victorious champions to be led captive as sport for the Philistines, or to be shot or hung at pleasure, while the residue of the inhabitants of the fallen empire—men, women and children—are to have their real estate and all other goods confiscated, and themselves banished the State on pain of death. A few, however, are selected from among these exiles to be imprisoned or executed at the mere dictation of a Nero or a Nicholas.
Was this in America, in the nineteenth century? Were these scenes transacted in a constitutional republic? Yes, verily, and worse,—a tale of horror, of woe, of long years of lawless outrage and tyranny is yet to be told, of which this is a mere stepping stone or entering wedge.
MASSACRE AT HAUN’S MILL
We here introduce the testimony of Joseph Young, an eye witness of one of the most awful scenes which ever stained the annals of history in any age or country.
“The following is a short history of my travels to the State of Missouri, and of a bloody tragedy enacted at Haun’s Mill, on Shoal Creek, October 30, 1838:
“On the 6th of July last I started with my family from Kirtland, Ohio, for Missouri—the county of Caldwell, in the upper part of the State, being the place of my destination. On the 13th of October I crossed the Mississippi at Louisiana, at which place I heard vague reports of the disturbances in the upper country, but nothing that could be relied on.
“I continued my course westward till I crossed Grand River, at a place called Compton’s Ferry, where I heard for the first time that if I proceeded any further on my journey I would be in danger of being stopped by a body of armed men.
“I was not willing, however, while treading my native soil and breathing republican air, to abandon my object, which was to locate myself and family in a fine, healthy country, where we could enjoy the society of our friends and connections. Consequently, I prosecuted my journey till I came to Whitney’s Mills, situated on Shoal Creek, in the eastern part of Caldwell County. After crossing the creek and going about three miles we met a party of the mob, about forty in number, armed with rifles and mounted on horses, who informed us that we could go no further west, threatening us with instant death if we proceeded any further.
“I asked them the reason of this prohibition, to which they replied that we were ‘Mormons,’ and that every one who adhered to that religious faith would have to leave the State within ten days, or renounce their religion. Accordingly, they drove us back to the mills above mentioned.
“Here we tarried three days, and on Friday, the 26th, we recrossed the creek, and, following up its banks, we succeeded in eluding the mob for the time being, and gained the residence of a friend in Myers’ Settlement. On Sunday, October 28, we arrived at Haun’s Mill, where we found a number of our friends collected, who were holding a council and deliberating upon the best course for them to pursue to defend themselves against the mob who were collecting in the neighborhood under the command of Colonel Jennings, of Livingston, and threatening them with house burning and killing.
“The decision of the council was that the neighborhood should put itself in a state of defence. Accordingly about twenty-eight of our men armed themselves, and were in constant readiness for an attack, if any small body of mobbers might come upon them.
“The same evening, for some reason best known to themselves, the mob sent one of their number to enter into a treaty with our friends, which was accepted on the condition of mutual forbearance on both sides, and that each party, as far as their influence extended, should exert themselves to prevent any further hostilities.
“At this time, however, there was another mob collecting on Grand River, at William Mann’s, which was threatening us; consequently, we remained under arms on Monday, the 29th, which passed away without molestation from any quarter.
“On Tuesday, the 30th, that bloody tragedy was enacted, the scenes of which I shall never forget.
“More than three fourths of the day had passed in tranquility as smiling as the preceding one. I think there was no individual of our company that was apprised of the sudden and awful fate which hung over our heads like an overwhelming torrent, and which was to change the prospects, the feelings and sympathies of about thirty families.
“The banks of Shoal Creek, on either side, teemed with children sporting and playing, while their mothers were engaged in domestic employments. Fathers or husbands were either on guard about the mills or other property, or employed in gathering crops for winter consumption. The weather was very pleasant, the sun shone clearly, all was tranquil, and no one expressed any apprehension of the awful crisis that was near us, even at our doors.
“It was about 4 o’clock, P.M., while sitting in my cabin with my babe in my arms, and my wife standing by my side, the door being open, I cast my eyes on the opposite bank of Shoal Creek, and saw a large body of armed men on horses directing their course towards the mills with all possible speed. As they advanced through the scattering trees that bordered the prairie they seemed to form themselves into a three square position, forming a vanguard in front. At this moment, David Evans, seeing the superiority of their numbers (there being two hundred and forty of them, according to their own account), gave a signal and cried for peace. This not being heeded they continued to advance, and their leader, a man named Comstock, fired a gun, which was followed by a solemn pause of about ten or twelve seconds; when all at once they discharged about one hundred rifles, aiming at a blacksmith’s shop, into which our friends fled for safety. They then charged up to the shop, the crevices of which, between the logs, were sufficiently large to enable them to aim directly at the bodies of those who had there fled for refuge from the fire of their murderers. There were several families tented in the rear of the shop whose lives were exposed, and, amid showers of bullets, fled to the woods in different directions.
“After standing and gazing at this bloody scene for a few minutes, and finding myself in the uttermost danger, the bullets having reached the house where I was living, I committed my family to the protection of Heaven; and, leaving the house on the opposite side, I took a path which led up the hill, following in the trail of three of my brethren that had fled from the shop.
“While ascending the hill we were discovered by the mob, who immediately fired at us, and continued so to do till we reached the summit. In descending the hill I secreted myself in a thicket of bushes, where I lay till 8 o’clock in the evening. At this time I heard a voice calling my name in an undertone. I immediately left the thicket and went to the house of Benjamin Lewis, where I found my family—who had fled there in safety—and two of my friends, mortally wounded, one of whom died before morning. Here we passed the painful night in deep and awful reflections on the scenes of the preceding evening. After daylight appeared some four or five men, with myself, who had escaped with our lives from this horrid massacre, repaired as soon as possible to the mills to learn the condition of our friends, whose fate we had but too truly anticipated.
“When we arrived at the house of Mr. Haun, we found Mr. Merrick’s body lying in the rear of the house; Mr. McBride’s in front, literally mangled from head to foot. We were informed by Miss Rebecca Judd, who was an eye witness, that he was shot with his own gun after he had given it up, and then cut to pieces with a corn cutter by a man named Rogers, of Davies County, who keeps a ferry on Grand River, and who has since repeatedly boasted of this act of savage barbarity. Mr. York’s body we found in the house. After viewing these corpses we immediately went to the blacksmith’s shop, where we found nine of our friends, eight of whom were already dead—the other, Mr. Cox, of Indiana, in the agonies of death, who soon expired.
“We immediately prepared and carried them to the place of interment. This last office of kindness due to the remains of departed friends was not attended with the customary ceremonies nor decency; for we were in jeopardy, every moment expecting to be fired on by the mob, who, we supposed, were lying in ambush, waiting the first opportunity to despatch the remaining few who were providentially preserved from the slaughter of the preceding day. However, we accomplished without molestation this painful task. The place of burial was a vault in the ground, formerly intended for a well, into which we threw the bodies of our friends promiscuously.
“Among the slain I will mention Sardius Smith, son of Warren Smith, about nine years old, who, through fear, had crawled under the bellows in the shop, where he remained till the massacre was over, when he was discovered by one Glaze, of Carroll County, who presented a rifle near his head and literally blew off the upper part of it. Mr. Stanley, of Carroll County, told me afterwards that Glaze boasted of this fiendlike murder and heroic deed all over the country.
“The number killed and mortally wounded in this wanton slaughter was eighteen or nineteen, whose names, as far as I can recollect, were as follows: Thomas McBride, Levi Merrick, Elias Benner, Josiah Fuller, Benjamin Lewis, Alexander Campbell, Warren Smith, Sardius Smith, George Richards, Mr. Napier, Mr. Harmer, Mr. Cox, Mr. Abbott, Mr. York, Wm. Merrick (a boy eight or nine years old), and three or four others whose names I do not recollect, as they were strangers to me.
“Among the wounded who recovered were Isaac Laney, Nathan K. Knight, Mr. Yokum, two brothers by the name of Myers, Tarlton Lewis, Mr. Haun and several others. Miss Mary Stedwell, while fleeing, was shot through the hand, and, fainting, fell over a log, into which they shot upwards of twenty balls.
“To finish their work of destruction, this band of murderers composed of men from Davies, Livingston, Ray, Carroll and Chariton Counties, led by some of the principal men of that section of the upper country (among whom, I am informed, were Mr. Ashby, from Chariton, member of the State Legislature; Col. Jennings, of Livingston County; Thos. O’Bryon, Clerk of Livingston County; Mr. Whitney, Dr. Randall and many others), proceeded to rob the houses, wagons and tents of bedding and clothing; drove off horses and wagons, leaving widows and orphans destitute of the necessaries of life, and even stripped the clothing from the bodies of the slain!
“According to their own account they fired seven rounds in this awful butchery; making upwards of sixteen hundred shots, at a little company of men about thirty in number.
“I hereby certify the above to be a true statement of facts, according to the best of my knowledge.
“JOSEPH YOUNG.”
“STATE OF ILLINOIS,
County of Adams.
“I hereby certify that Joseph Young this day came before me, and made oath in due form of law, that the statements contained in the foregoing sheets are true, according to the best of his knowledge and belief. In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand, and affixed the seal of the Circuit Court at Quincy, this fourth day of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and thirty-nine.
“C. M. WOODS,
“Clerk of Circuit Court of Adams Co., Ill.”
SPEECH OF MAJOR-GENERAL CLARK, DELIVERED AT FAR WEST WHILE ITS CITIZENS WERE HELD AS PRISONERS, NOVEMBER, 1838.
“Gentlemen: You, whose names are not on this list, will now have the privilege of going to your fields to obtain grain for your families—wood, etc. Those that compose the list will go from thence to prison, to be tried, and receive the due demerits of their crimes. But you are now at liberty, all but such as charges may hereafter be preferred against. It now devolves upon you to fulfil the treaty that you have entered into—the leading items of which I now lay before you.
“The first of these items you have already complied with—which is, that you deliver up your leading men to be tried according to law. Second, that you deliver up your arms—this has been attended to. The third is, that you sign over your property to defray the expenses of the war; this you have also done. Another thing yet remains for you to comply with; that is: that you leave the State forthwith; and, whatever your feelings concerning this affair, whatever your innocence, it is nothing to me. General Lucas, who is equal in authority with me, has made this treaty with you. I am determined to see it executed.
“The orders of the Governor to me, were, that you should be exterminated, and not allowed to remain in the State. And had your leaders not been given up, and the treaty complied with before this, you and your families would have been destroyed and your houses in ashes.
“There is a discretionary power resting in my hands, which I shall try to exercise for a season. I did not say that you must go now, but you must not think of stopping here another season, or of putting in crops; for the moment you do the CITIZENS WILL BE UPON YOU. I am determined to see the Governor’s orders fulfilled, but shall not come upon you immediately. Do not think that I shall act as I have done any more; but if I have to come again because the treaty which you have made is not complied with, you need not expect any mercy, but extermination; for I am determined that the Governor’s order shall be executed.
“As for your leaders, do not think, do not imagine for a moment, do not let it enter your mind that they will be delivered, or that you will see their faces again, for their fate is fixed, their die is cast, their doom is sealed.
“I am sorry, gentlemen, to see so great a number of apparently intelligent men found in the situation that you are. And, oh! that I could invoke the Spirit of the unknown God to rest upon you, and deliver you from that awful chain of superstition, and liberate you from those fetters of fanaticism with which you are bound. I would advise you to scatter abroad and never again organize with bishops, presidents, etc., lest you excite the jealousies of the people, and subject yourselves to the same calamities that have now come upon you.
“You have always been the aggressors; you have brought upon yourselves these difficulties by being disaffected, and not being subject to rule; and my advice is, that you become as other citizens, lest by a recurrence of these events you bring upon yourselves inevitable ruin.”