The trip to Salt Lake City occupied a week, and on the 12th the governor entered the Mormon metropolis, escorted by the city officers and other persons of distinction in the community, and was assigned as a guest to W. C. Staines, an influential Mormon elder. There Young immediately called on him, and was received with friendly consideration. Asked by his host, when the head of the church took his leave, if Young appeared to be a tyrant, Governor Cumming replied: "No, sir. No tyrant ever had a head on his shoulders like Mr. Young. He is naturally a good man. I doubt whether many of your people sufficiently appreciate him as a leader."* This was the judgment of a federal officer after a few moments' conversation with the reviler of the government and a month's coaching by Colonel Kane.
Three days later, Governor Cumming officially notified General Johnston of his arrival, and stated that he was everywhere recognized as governor, and "universally greeted with such respectful attentions" as were due to his office. There was no mention of any advance of the troops, nor any censure of Mormon offenders, but the general was instructed to use his forces to recover stock alleged to have been stolen from the Mormons by Indians, and to punish the latter, and he was informed that Indian Agent Hurt (who had so recently escaped from Mormon clutches) was charged by W. H. Hooper, the Mormon who had acted as secretary of state during recent months, with having incited Indians to hostility, and should be investigated! Verily, Colonel Kane's work was thoroughly performed. General Johnston replied, expressing gratification at the governor's reception, requesting to be informed when the Mormon force would be withdrawn from the route to Salt Lake City, and saying that he had inquired into Dr. Hurt's case, and had satisfied himself "that he has faithfully discharged his duty as agent, and that he has given none but good advice to the Indians."
On the Sunday after his arrival Young introduced Governor Cumming to the people in the Tabernacle, and then a remarkable scene ensued. Stenhouse says that the proceedings were all arranged in advance. Cumming was acting the part of the vigilant defender of the laws, and at the same time as conciliator, doing what his authority would permit to keep the Mormon leaders free from the presence of troops and from the jurisdiction of federal judges. But he was not all-powerful in this respect. General Johnston had orders that would allow him to dispose of his forces without obedience to the governor, and the governor could not quash the indictments found by Judge Eckles's grand jury. Young's knowledge of this made him cautious in his reliance on Governor Gumming. Then, too, Young had his own people to deal with, and he would lose caste with them if he made a surrender which left Mormondom practically in federal control.
When Governor Cumming was introduced to the congregation of nearly four thousand people he made a very conciliatory address, in which, however, according to his report to Secretary Cass,* he let them know that he had come to vindicate the national sovereignty, "and to exact an unconditional submission on their part to the dictates of the law"; but informed them that they were entitled to trial by their peers,—intending to mean Mormon peers,—that he had no intention of stationing the army near their settlements, or of using a military posse until other means of arrest had failed. After this practical surrender of authority, the governor called for expressions of opinion from the audience, and he got them. That audience had been nurtured for years on the oratory of Young and Kimball and Grant, and had seen Judge Brocchus vilified by the head of the church in the same building; and the responses to Governor Cumming's invitation were of a kind to make an Eastern Gentile quail, especially one like the innocent Cumming, who thought them "a people who habitually exercised great self-control." One speaker went into a review of Mormon wrongs since the tarring of the prophet in Ohio, holding the federal government responsible, and naming as the crowning outrage the sending of a Missourian to govern them. This was too much for Cumming, and he called out, "I am a Georgian, sir, a Georgian." The congregation gave the governor the lie to his face, telling him that they would not believe that he was their friend until he sent the soldiers back. "It was a perfect bedlam," says an eyewitness, "and gross personal remarks were made. One man said, 'You're nothing but an office seeker.' The governor replied that he obtained his appointment honorably and had not solicited it."** If all this was a piece of acting arranged by Young to show his flock that he was making no abject surrender, it was well done.***
Young's remarks on March 21 had been having their effect while Cumming was negotiating, and an exodus from the northern settlements was under way which only needed to be augmented by a movement from the valley to make good Young's declaration that they would leave their part of the territory a desert. No official order for this movement had been published, but whatever direction was given was sufficient. Peace Commissioners Powell and McCullough, in a report to the Secretary of War dated July 3, 1858, said on this subject: "We were informed by various (discontented) Mormons, who lived in the settlements north of Provo, that they had been forced to leave their homes and go to the southern part of the Territory.... We were also informed that at least one-third of the persons who had removed from their homes were compelled to do so. We were told that many were dissatisfied with the Mormon church, and would leave it whenever they could with safety to themselves. We are of opinion that the leaders of the Mormon church congregated the people in order to exercise more immediate control over them." Not only were houses deserted, but growing crops were left and heavier household articles abandoned, and the roads leading to the south and through Salt Lake City were crowded day by day with loaded wagons, their owners—even the women, often shoeless trudging along and driving their animals before them. These refugees were, a little later, joined by Young and most of his associates, and by a large part of the inhabitants of Salt Lake City itself. It was estimated by the army officers at the time that 25,000 of a total population of 45,000 in the Territory, took part in this movement. When they abandoned their houses they left them tinder boxes which only needed the word of command, when the troops advanced, to begin a general conflagration. By June 1 the refugees were collected on the western shore of Utah Lake, fifty miles south of Salt Lake City. What a picture of discomfort and positive suffering this settlement presented can be partly imagined. The town of Provo near by could accommodate but a few of the new-comers, and for dwellings the rest had recourse to covered wagons, dugouts, cabins of logs, and shanties of boards—anything that offered any protection. There was a lack of food, and it was the old life of the plains again, without the daily variety presented when the trains were moving.
In his report to Secretary Cass, dated May 2, Governor Cumming, after describing this exodus as a matter of great concern, said:—
"I shall follow these people and try to rally them. Our military force could overwhelm most of these poor people, involving men, women, and children in a common fate; but there are among the Mormons many brave men accustomed to arms and horses, men who could fight desperately as guerillas; and, if the settlements are destroyed, will subject the country to an expensive and protracted war, without any compensating results. They will, I am sure, submit to 'trial by their peers,' but they will not brook the idea of trial by 'juries' composed of 'teamsters and followers of the camp,' nor any army encamped in their cities or dense settlements."
What kind of justice their idea of "trial by their peers" meant was disclosed in the judicial history of the next few years. This report, which also recited the insults the governor had received in the Tabernacle, was sent to Congress on June 10 by President Buchanan, with a special message, setting forth that he had reason to believe that "our difficulties with the territory have terminated, and the reign of the constitution and laws been restored," and saying that there was no longer any use of calling out the authorized regiments of volunteers.
Governor Cumming's report of May 2 did not reach Washington until June 9, but the President's volte-face had begun before that date, and when the situation in Utah was precisely as it was when he had assured Colonel Kane that he would send no agent to the Mormons while they continued their defiant attitude. Under date of April 6 he issued a proclamation, in which he recited the outrages on the federal officers in Utah, the warlike attitude and acts of the Mormon force, which, he pointed out, constituted rebellion and treason; declared that it was a grave mistake to suppose that the government would fail to bring them into submission; stated that the land occupied by the Mormons belonged to the United States; and disavowed any intention to interfere with their religion; and then, to save bloodshed and avoid indiscriminate punishment where all were not equally guilty, he offered "a free and full pardon to all who will submit themselves to the just authority of the federal government."
This proclamation was intrusted to two peace commissioners, L. W. Powell of Kentucky and Major Ben. McCullough of Texas. Powell had been governor of his state, and was then United States senator-elect. McCullough had seen service in Texas before the war with Mexico, and been a daring scout under Scott in the latter war. He was killed at the battle of Pea Ridge, Arkansas, in 1862, in command of a Confederate corps.
These commissioners were instructed by the Secretary of War to give the President's proclamation extensive circulation in Utah. Without entering into any treaty or engagements with the Mormons, they were to "bring those misguided people to their senses" by convincing them of the uselessness of resistance, and how much submission was to their interest. They might, in so doing, place themselves in communication with the Mormon leaders, and assure them that the movement of the army had no reference to their religious tenets. The determination was expressed to see that the federal officers appointed for the territory were received and installed, and that the laws were obeyed, and Colonel Kane was commended to them as likely to be of essential service.
The commissioners set out from Fort Leavenworth on April 25, travelling in ambulances, their party consisting of themselves, five soldiers, five armed teamsters, and a wagon master. They arrived at Camp Scott on May 29, the reenforcements for the troops following them. The publication of the President's proclamation was a great surprise to the military. "There was none of the bloodthirsty excitement in the camp which was reported in the States to have prevailed there," says Colonel Brown, "but there was a feeling of infinite chagrin, a consciousness that the expedition was only a pawn on Mr. Buchanan's political chessboard; and reproaches against his folly were as frequent as they were vehement."*
The commissioners were not long in discovering the untrustworthy character of any advices they might receive from Governor Cumming. In their report of June 1 to the Secretary of War, they mentioned his opinion that almost all the military organizations of the territory had been disbanded, adding, "We fear that the leaders of the Mormon people have not given the governor correct information of affairs in the valley." They also declared it to be of the first importance that the army should advance into the valley before the Mormons could burn the grass or crops, and they gave General Johnston the warmest praise.
The commissioners set out for Salt Lake City on June 2, Governor Cumming who had returned to Camp Scott with Colonel Kane following them. On reaching the city they found that Young and the other leaders were with the refugees at Provo. A committee of three Mormons expressed to the commissioners the wish of the people that they would have a conference with Young, and on the 10th Young, Kimball, Wells, and several of the Twelve arrived, and a meeting was arranged for the following day.
There are two accounts of the ensuing conferences, the official reports of the commissioners,* which are largely statements of results, and a Mormon report in the journal kept by Wilford Woodruff.** At the first conference, the commissioners made a statement in line with the President's proclamation and with their instructions, offering pardon on submission, and declaring the purpose of the government to enforce submission by the employment of the whole military force of the nation, if necessary. Woodruff's "reflection" on this proposition was that the President found that Congress would not sustain him, and so was seeking a way of retreat. While the conference was in session, O.P. Rockwell entered and whispered to Young. The latter, addressing Governor Cumming, asked, "Are you aware that those troops are on the move toward the city?" The compliant governor replied, "It cannot be."*** What followed Woodruff thus relates:—
"'Is Brother Dunbar present?' enquired Brigham.
"'Yes, sir,' responded someone. What was coming now?
"'Brother Dunbar, sing Zion.' The Scotch songster came forward and sang the soul-stirring lines by C. W. Penrose."*
Interpreted, this meant, "Stop that army or our peace conference is ended." Woodruff adds:—
"After the meeting, McCullough and Gov. Cumming took a stroll together. 'What will you do with such a people?' asked the governor, with a mixture of admiration and concern. 'D—n them, I would fight them if I had my way,' answered McCullough. 'Fight them, would you? You might fight them, but you would never whip them. They would never know when they were whipped.'"
At the second day's conference Brigham Young uttered his final defiance and then surrendered. Declaring that he had done nothing for which he desired the President's forgiveness, he satisfied the pride of his followers with such declarations as these:—
"I can take a few of the boys here, and, with the help of the Lord, can whip the whole of the United States. Boys, how do you feel? Are you afraid of the United States? (Great demonstration among the brethren.) No. No. We are not afraid of man, nor of what he can do."
"The United States are going to destruction as fast as they can go. If you do not believe it, gentlemen, you will soon see it to your sorrow."
But here was the really important part of his remarks: "Now, let me say to you peace commissioners, we are willing those troops should come into our country, but not to stay in our city. They may pass through it, if needs be, but must not quarter less than forty miles from us."
Impudent as was this declaration to the representatives of the government, it marked the end of the "war". The commissioners at once notified General Johnston that the Mormon leaders had agreed not to resist the execution of the laws in the territory, and to consent that the military and civil officers should discharge their duties. They suggested that the general issue a proclamation, assuring the people that the army would not trespass on the rights or property of peaceable citizens, and this the general did at once.
The Mormon leaders, being relieved of the danger of a trial for treason, now stood in dread of two things, the quartering of the army among them, and a vigorous assault on the practice of polygamy. Judge Eckles's District Court had begun its spring term at Fort Bridger on April 5, and the judge had charged the grand jury very plainly in regard to plural marriages. On this subject he said:—
"It cannot be concealed, gentlemen, that certain domestic arrangements exist in this territory destructive of the peace, good order, and morals of society—arrangements at variance with those of all enlightened and Christian communities in the world; and, sapping as they do the very foundation of all virtue, honesty, and morality, it is an imperative duty falling upon you as grand jurors diligently to inquire into this evil and make every effort to check its growth.
"There is no law in this territory punishing polygamy, but there is one, however, for the punishment of adultery; and all illegal intercourse between the sexes, if either party have a husband or wife living at the time, is adulterous and punishable by indictment. The law was made to punish the lawless and disobedient, and society is entitled to the salutary effects of its execution."
No indictments were found that spring for this offence, but the Mormons stood in great dread of continued efforts by the judge to enforce the law as he interpreted it. Of the nature of the real terms made with the Mormons, Colonel Brown says:—
"No assurances were given by the commissioners upon either of these subjects. They limited their action to tendering the President's pardon, and exhorting the Mormons to accept it. Outside the conferences, however, without the knowledge of the commissioners, assurances were given on both these subjects by the Governor and Superintendent of Indian Affairs, which proved satisfactory to Brigham Young. The exact nature of their pledges will, perhaps, never be disclosed; but from subsequent confessions volunteered by the superintendent, who appears to have acted as the tool of the governor through the whole affair, it seems probable that they promised explicitly to exert their influence to quarter the army in Cache Valley, nearly one hundred miles north of Salt Lake City, and also to procure the removal of Judge Eckles."*
Captain Marcy had reached Camp Scott on June 8, with his herd of horses and mules, and Colonel Hoffman with the first division of the supply train which left Fort Laramie on March 18; on the 10th Captain Hendrickspn arrived with the remainder of the trains; and on the 13th the long-expected movement from Camp Scott to the Mormon city began. To the soldiers who had spent the winter inactive, except as regards their efforts to keep themselves from freezing, the order to advance was a welcome one. Late as was the date, there had been a snowfall at Fort Bridger only three days before, and the streams were full of water. The column was prepared therefore for bridge-making when necessary. When the little army was well under way the scene in the valley through which ran Black's Fork was an interesting one. The white walls of Bridger's Fort formed a background, with the remnants of the camp in the shape of sod chimneys, tent poles, and so forth next in front, and, slowly leaving all this, the moving soldiers, the long wagon trains, the artillery carriages and caissons, and on either flank mounted Indians riding here and there, satisfying their curiosity with this first sight of a white man's army. The news that the Mormons had abandoned their idea of resistance reached the troops the second day after they had started, and they had nothing more exciting to interest them on the way than the scenery and the Mormon fortifications. Salt Lake City was reached on the 26th, and the march through it took place that day. To the soldiers, nothing was visible to indicate any abandonment of the hostile attitude of the Mormons, much less any welcome.
Their leaders had returned to the camp at Provo, and the only civilians in the city were a few hundred who had, for special reasons, been granted permission to return. The only woman in the whole city was Mrs. Cumming. The Mormons had been ordered indoors early that morning by the guard; every flag on a public building had been taken down; every window was closed. The regimental bands and the creaking wagons alone disturbed the utter silence. The peace commissioners rode with General Johnston, and the whole force encamped on the river Jordan, just within the city limits. Two days later, owing to a lack of wood and pasturage there, they were moved about fifteen miles westward, near the foot of the mountains. Disregarding Young's expressed wishes, and any understanding he might have had with Governor Cumming, General Johnston selected Cedar Valley on Lake Utah for one of the three posts he was ordered to establish in the territory, and there his camp was pitched on July 6.
Governor Cumming prepared a proclamation to the inhabitants of the territory, announcing that all persons were pardoned who submitted to the law, and that peace was restored, and inviting the refugees to return to their homes. The governor and the peace commissioners made a trip to the Mormon camps, and addressed gatherings at Provo and Lehi. The governor bustled about everywhere, assuring every one that all the federal officers would "hold sacred the amnesty and pardon by the President of the United States, by G-d, sir, yes," and receiving from Young the sneering reply, "We know all about it, Governor." On July 4., no northward movement of the people having begun, Cumming told Young that he intended to publish his proclamation. "Do as YOU please," was the contemptuous reply; "to-morrow I shall get upon the tongue of my wagon, and tell the people that I am going home, and they can do as THEY please."*
Young did so, and that day the backward march of the people began. The real governor was the head of the church.
We may here interrupt the narrative of events subsequent to the restoration of peace in the territory, with the story of the most horrible massacre of white people by religious fanatics of their own race that has been recorded since that famous St. Bartholemew's night in Paris—the story of the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Committed on Friday, September 11, 1857,—four days before the date of Young's proclamation forbidding the United States troops to enter the territory—it was a considerable time before more than vague rumors of the crime reached the Eastern states. No inquest or other investigation was held by Mormon authority, no person participating in the slaughter was arrested by a Mormon officer; and, when officers of the federal government first visited the scene, in the spring of 1859, all that remained to tell the tale were human skulls and other bones lying where the wolves and coyotes had left them, with scraps of clothing caught here and there upon the vines and bushes. Dr. Charles Brewer, the assistant army surgeon who was sent with a detail to bury the remains in May, 1859, says in his gruesome report:—
"I reached a ravine fifty yards from the road, in which I found portions of the skeletons of many bodies,—skulls, bones, and matted hair,—most of which, on examination, I concluded to be those of men. Three hundred and fifty yards further on another assembly of human remains was found, which, by all appearance, had been left to decay upon the surface; skulls and bones, most of which I believed to be those of women, some also of children, probably ranging from six to twelve years of age. Here, too, were found masses of women's hair, children's bonnets, such as are generally used upon the plains, and pieces of lace, muslin, calicoes, and other materials. Many of the skulls bore marks of violence, being pierced with bullet holes, or shattered by heavy blows, or cleft with some sharp-edged instrument."*
More than seventeen years passed before officers of the United States succeeded in securing the needed evidence against any of the persons responsible for these wholesale murders, and a jury which would bring in a verdict of guilty. Then a single Mormon paid the penalty of his crime. He died asserting that he was the one victim surrendered by the Mormon church to appease the public demand for justice. The closest students of the Mountain Meadows Massacre and of Brigham Young's rule will always give the most credence to this statement of John D. Lee. Indeed, to acquit Young of responsibility for this crime, it would be necessary to prove that the sermons and addresses in the journal of Discourses are forgeries.
In the summer of 1857 a party was made up in Arkansas to cross the plains to Southern California by way of Utah, under direction of a Captain Fancher.* This party differed from most emigrant parties of the day both in character and equipment. It numbered some thirty families,—about 140 individuals,—men, women, and children. They were people of means, several of them travelling in private carriages, and their equipment included thirty horses and mules, and about six hundred head of cattle, when they arrived in Utah. Most of them seem to have been Methodists, and they had a preacher of that denomination with them. Prayers were held in camp every night and morning, and they never travelled on Sundays. They did not hurry on, as the gold seekers were wont to do in those days, but made their trip one of pleasure, sparing themselves and their animals, and enjoying the beauties and novelties of the route.**
Every emigrant train for California then expected to restock in Utah. The Mormons had profited by this traffic, and such a thing as non-intercourse with travellers in the way of trade was as yet unheard of. But Young was now defying the government, and his proclamation of September 15 had declared that "no person shall be allowed to pass or repass into or through or from this territory without a permit from the proper officer." To a constituency made up so largely of dishonest members, high and low, as Young himself conceded the Mormon body politic to be, the outfit of these travellers was very attractive. There was a motive, too, in inflicting punishment on them, merely because they were Arkansans, and the motive was this:—
Parley P. Pratt was sent to explore a southern route from Utah to California in 1849. He reached San Francisco from Los Angeles in the summer of 1851, remaining there until June, 1855. He was a fanatical defender of polygamy after its open proclamation, challenging debate on the subject in San Francisco, and issuing circulars calling on the people to repent as "the Kingdom of God has come nigh unto you." While in San Francisco, Pratt induced the wife of Hector H. McLean, a custom-house official, the mother of three children, to accept the Mormon faith and to elope with him to Utah as his ninth wife. The children were sent to her parents in Louisiana by their father, and there she sometime later obtained them, after pretending that she had abandoned the Mormon belief. When McLean learned of this he went East, and traced his wife and Pratt to Houston, Texas, and thence to Fort Gibson, near Van Buren, Arkansas. There he had Pratt arrested, but there seemed to be no law under which he could be held. As soon as Pratt was released, he left the place on horseback. McLean, who had found letters from Pratt to his wife at Fort Gibson which increased his feeling against the man,* followed him on horseback for eight miles, and then, overtaking him, shot him so that he died in two hours.** It was in accordance with Mormon policy to hold every Arkansan accountable for Pratt's death, just as every Missourian was hated because of the expulsion of the church from that state.
When the company pitched camp on the river Jordan their food supplies were nearly exhausted, and their draught animals needed rest and a chance to recuperate. They knew nothing of the disturbed relations between the Mormons and the government when they set out, and they were astonished now to be told that they must break camp and move on southward. But they obeyed. At American Fork, the next settlement, they offered some of their worn-out animals in exchange for fresh ones, and visited the town to buy provisions. There was but one answer—nothing to sell. Southward they continued, through Provo, Springville, Payson, Salt Creek, and Fillmore, at all settlements making the same effort to purchase the food of which they stood in need, and at all receiving the same reply.
So much were their supplies now reduced that they hastened on until Corn Creek was reached; there they did obtain a little relief, some Indians selling them about thirty bushels of corn. But at Beaver, a larger place, nonintercourse was again proclaimed, and at Parowan, through which led the road built by the general government, they were forbidden to pass over this directly through the town, and the local mill would not even grind their own corn. At Cedar Creek, one of the largest southern settlements, they were allowed to buy fifty bushels of wheat, and to have it and their corn ground at John D. Lee's mill. After a day's delay they started on, but so worn out were their animals that it took them three days to reach Iron Creek, twenty miles beyond, and two more days to reach Mountain Meadows, fifteen miles farther south.
These "meadows" are a valley, 350 miles south of Salt Lake City, about five miles long by one wide. They are surrounded by mountains, and narrow at the lower end to a width of 400 yards, where a gap leads out to the desert. A large spring near this gap made that spot a natural resting-place, and there the emigrants pitched their camp. Had they been in any way suspicious of Indian treachery they would not have stopped there, because, from the elevations on either side, they were subject to rifle fire. Their anxiety, however, was not about the Indians, whom they had found friendly, but about the problem of making the trip of seventy days to San Bernardino, across a desert country, with their wornout animals and their scant supplies. Had Mormon cruelty taken only the form of withholding provisions and forage from this company, its effect would have satisfied their most evil wishers.
On the morning of Monday, September 7, still unsuspicious of any form of danger, their camp was suddenly fired upon by Indians, (and probably by some white men disguised as Indians). Seven of the emigrants were killed in this attack and sixteen were wounded. Unexpected as was this manifestation of hostility, the company was too well organized to be thrown into a panic. The fire was returned, and one Indian was killed, and two chiefs fatally wounded. The wagons were corralled at once as a sort of fortification, and the wheels were chained together. In the centre of this corral a rifle pit was dug, large enough to hold all their people, and in this way they were protected from shots fired at them from either side of the valley. In this little fort they successfully defended themselves during that and the ensuing three days. Not doubting that Indians were their only assailants, two of their number succeeded in escaping from the camp on a mission to Cedar City to ask for assistance. These messengers were met by three Mormons, who shot one of them dead, and wounded the other; the latter seems to have made his way back to the camp.
The Arkansans soon suffered for water, as the spring was a hundred yards distant. Two of them during one day made a dash, carrying buckets, and got back with them safely, under a heavy fire.
With some reenforcements from the south, the Indians now numbered about four hundred. They shot down some seventy head of the emigrants' cattle, and on Wednesday evening made another attack in force on the camp, but were repulsed. Still another attack the next morning had the same result. This determined resistance upset the plans of the Mormons who had instigated the Indian attacks. They had expected that the travellers would be overcome in the first surprise, and that their butchery would easily be accounted for as the result of an Indian raid on their camp. But they were not to be balked of their object. To save themselves from the loss of life that would be entailed by a charge on the Arkansans' defences, they resorted to a scheme of the most deliberate treachery.
On Friday, the 11th, a Mormon named William Bateman was sent forward with a flag of truce. The other undisguised Mormons remained in concealment, and the Indians had been instructed to keep entirely out of sight. The beleaguered company were delighted to see a white man, and at once sent one of their number to meet him. Their ammunition was almost exhausted, their dead were unburied in their midst, and their situation was desperate. Bateman, following out his instructions, told the representative of the emigrants that the Mormons had come to their assistance, and that, if they would place themselves in the white men's hands and follow directions, they would be conducted in safety to Cedar City, there to await a proper opportunity for proceeding on their journey.* This plan was agreed to without any delay, and John D. Lee was directed by John M. Higbee, major of the Iron Militia, and chief in command of the Mormon party, to go to the camp to see that the plot agreed upon was carried out, Samuel McMurdy and Samuel Knight following him with two wagons which were a part of the necessary equipment.
Never had a man been called upon to perform a more dastardly part than that which was assigned to Lee. Entering the camp of the beleaguered people as their friend, he was to induce them to abandon their defences, give up all their weapons, separate the adults from the children and wounded, who were to be placed in the wagons, and then, at a given signal, every one of the party was to be killed by the white men who walked by their sides as their protectors. Lee draws a picture of his feelings on entering the camp which ought to be correct, even if circumstances lead one to attribute it to the pen of a man who naturally wished to find some extenuation for himself: "I doubt the power of man being equal to even imagine how wretched I felt. No language can describe my feelings. My position was painful, trying, and awful; my brain seemed to be on fire; my nerves were for a moment unstrung; humanity was overpowering as I thought of the cruel, unmanly part that I was acting. Tears of bitter anguish fell in streams from my eyes; my tongue refused its office; my faculties were dormant, stupefied and deadened by grief. I wished that the earth would open and swallow me where I stood."
When Lee entered the camp all the people, men, women, and children, gathered around him, some delighted over the hope of deliverance, while others showed distrust of his intentions. Their position was so strong that they felt some hesitation in abandoning it, and Lee says that, if their ammunition had not been so nearly exhausted, they would never have surrendered. But their hesitation was soon overcome, and the carrying out of the plot proceeded.
All their arms, the wounded, and the smallest children were placed in the two wagons. As soon as these were loaded, a messenger from Higbee, named McFarland, rode up with a message that everything should be hastened, as he feared he could not hold back the Indians. The wagons were then started at once toward Cedar City, Lee and the two drivers accompanying them, and the others of the party set out on foot for the place where the Mormon troops were awaiting them, some two hundred yards distant. First went McFarland on horseback, then the women and larger children, and then the men. When, in this order, they came to the place where the Mormons were stationed, the men of the party cheered the latter as their deliverers.
As the wagons passed out of sight over an elevation, the march of the rest of the party was resumed. The women and larger children walked ahead, then came the men in single file, an armed Mormon walking by the side of each Arkansan. This gave the appearance of the best possible protection. When they had advanced far enough to bring the women and children into the midst of a company of Indians concealed in a growth of cedars, the agreed signal the words, "Do your duty"—was given. As these words were spoken, each Mormon turned and shot the Arkansan who was walking by his side, and Indians and other Mormons attacked the women and children who were walking ahead, while Lee and his two companions killed the wounded and the older of the children who were in the wagons.
The work of killing the men was performed so effectually that only two or three of them escaped, and these were overtaken and killed soon after.* Indeed, only the nervousness natural to men who were assigned to perform so horrible a task could prevent the murderers from shooting dead the unarmed men walking by their sides. With the women and children it was different. Instead of being shot down without warning, they first heard the shots that killed their only protectors, and then beheld the Indians rushing on them with their usual whoops, brandishing tomahawks, knives, and guns. There were cries for mercy, mothers' pleas for children's lives, and maidens' appeals to manly honor; but all in vain. It was not necessary to use firearms; indeed, they would have endangered the assailants themselves. The tomahawk and the knife sufficed, and in the space of a few moments every woman and older child was a corpse.
When Lee and the men in charge of the two wagons heard the firing, they halted at once, as this was the signal agreed on for them to perform their part. McMurdy's wagon, containing the sick and wounded and the little children, was in advance, Knight's, with a few passengers and the weapons, following. We have three accounts of what happened when the signal was given, Lee's own, and the testimony of the other two at Lee's trial. Lee says that McMurdy at once went up to Knight's wagon, and, raising his rifle and saying, "O Lord my God, receive their spirits; it is for Thy Kingdom I do this," fired, killing two men with the first shot. Lee admits that he intended to do his part of the killing, but says that in his excitement his pistol went off prematurely and narrowly escaped wounding McMurdy; that Knight then shot one man, and with the butt of his gun brained a little boy who had run up to him, and that the Indians then came up and finished killing all the sick and wounded. McMurdy testified that Lee killed the first person in his wagon—a woman—and also shot two or three others. When asked if he himself killed any one that day, McMurdy replied, "I believe I am not upon trial. I don't wish to answer." Knight testified that he saw Lee strike down a woman with his gun or a club, denying that he himself took any part in the slaughter: Nephi Johnson, another witness at Lee's second trial, testified that he saw Lee and an Indian pull a man out of one of the wagons, and he thought Lee cut the man's throat. The only persons spared in this whole company were seventeen children, varying in age from two months to seven years. They were given to Mormon families in southern Utah—"sold out," says Forney in his report, "to different persons in Cedar City, Harmony, and Painter Creek. Bills are now in my possession from different individuals asking payment from the government. I cannot condescend to become the medium of even transmitting such claims to the department." The government directed Forney in 1858 to collect these children, and he did so. Congress in 1859 appropriated $10,000 to defray the expense of returning them to their friends in Arkansas, and on June 27 of that year fifteen of them (two boys being retained as government witnesses) set out for the East from Salt Lake City in charge of a company of United States dragoons and five women attendants. Judge Cradlebaugh quotes one of these children, a boy less than nine years old, as saying in his presence, when they were brought to Salt Lake City, "Oh, I wish I was a man. I know what I would do. I would shoot John D. Lee. I saw him shoot my mother."
The total number in the Arkansas party is not exactly known. The victims numbered more than 120. Jacob Hamblin testified at the Lee trial that, the following spring, he and his man buried "120 odd" skulls, counting them as they gathered them up.
A few young women, in the confusion of the Indian attack, concealed themselves, but they were soon found. Hamblin testified at Lee's second trial that Lee, in a long conversation with him, soon after the massacre, told him that, when he rejoined the Mormon troops, an Indian chief brought to him two girls from thirteen to fifteen years old, whom he had found hiding in a thicket, and asked what should be done with them, as they were pretty and he wanted to save them. Lee replied that "according to the orders he had, they were too old and too big to let go."
Then by Lee's direction the chief shot one of them, and Lee threw the other down and cut her throat. Hamblin said that an Indian boy conducted him to the place where the girls' bodies lay, a long way from the rest, up a ravine, unburied and with their throats cut. One of the little children saved from the massacre was taken home by Hamblin, and she said the murdered girls were her sisters. Richard F. Burton, who visited Utah in 1860, mentions, as one of the current stories in connection with the massacre, that, when a girl of sixteen knelt before one of the Mormons and prayed for mercy, he led her into the thicket, violated her, and then cut her throat.*