THE LAST DAY—FORD'S ACTION AT NAUVOO—CONSPIRACY BETWEEN THE GUARDS AND THE MURDEROUS MOB MILITIA—THE PRISONERS LEFT TO THEIR FATE—"A POOR WAYFARING MAN OF GRIEF"—THE ASSAULT AND THE MURDER—THE END.

Governor Ford went to Nauvoo on the morning of the 27th of June, 1844, accompanied by a body of troops. When he arrived there he made a public speech before thousands of the Saints, in which he used this expression: "A great crime has been done by destroying the Expositor press, and placing the city under martial law, and a severe atonement must be made, so prepare your minds for the emergency."

Whether Ford was fully cognizant of the plot to murder the Prophet during his absence from Carthage is not altogether clear. He was unquestionably aware of the murderous feeling which existed among the Carthage Greys, and the men who were associated with Levi Williams and the Laws, Higbees, Fosters and others at Carthage. It has been stated upon good authority, and it has never been disputed, that he was informed of the intentions of the mob. But he ventured into Nauvoo. Would a cowardly man like he was have dared to risk himself in such a manner at such a time, if he was fully advised of the time the massacre was to take place? The presumption is that he was indifferent as to the fate which would befall the Prophet and his companions; but that he did not know, as some of his officers did, that the bloody deed was to be consummated while he was absent at Nauvoo. If Ford had been a man of greater daring, it might with certainty be assured that his visit to Nauvoo was a part of the conspiracy, and that he went there to avoid the appearance of complicity in the murder. This is certain, that while Ford was addressing the people, a sound like the distant firing of a cannon, or the slight sound of distant rumbling thunder, was heard by many in the audience, and by some of Ford's aides who stood near him, and that they whispered something to him, and without loss of time and in the greatest haste, he and his escort rode out of Nauvoo. Their departure was more like a flight than the decorous leave-taking of the executive of the state accompanied by a command of troops. A cannon was fired at a certain point distant from Carthage, as a signal that the massacre had been accomplished; but it was never known whether or not this was the sound which attracted attention at Nauvoo. Governor Ford's hasty flight at that time has always been deemed conclusive evidence that he had been informed by some of his companions—if he had not been fully advised of the plot and its details before—that Joseph Smith and his companions had been murdered.

Ford and his aides occupied a room in the Nauvoo mansion that day. Orrin P. Rockwell heard one of them at three o'clock say: "the deed is done before this time."

The governor and his company went to the temple. Some of the officers broke the horns from the oxen supporting the baptismal font, while Ford made rare sport of the sacred edifice.

One of his attendants remarked: "This temple is a curious piece of workmanship; and it was a damned shame that they did not let Joe Smith finish it."

Another said: "But he is dead by this time, and he will never see this temple again."

Brother William Gr. Sterrett stood by and replied: "They cannot kill him until he has finished his work."

At this Ford gave a significant smile and one of his aids standing by said: "Whether he has finished his work or not, by God, he will not see this place again, for he is finished before this time."

At Carthage, after the governor left, the external situation was this: The guarding of the jail had been left to General Deming who had the Carthage Greys under his command; but Deming retired during the day for fear of his life, as he saw the determination of the troops to connive at murder. The main body of the company was stationed in the public square, one hundred and fifty yards from the jail, awhile eight men were detailed, under the command of Sergeant Frank A. Worrell, to guard the prisoners. The disbanded mob militia had come up to Carthage to the number of two hundred, with their faces blackened with powder and mud. The Carthage Greys were informed that the assassin band was ready; and it was then arranged that the guard at the jail should load with blank cartridges and that the mob should attack the prison and meet with some show of resistance.

Within the jail, the brethren, Joseph and Hyrum, John Taylor and Willard Richards, were confined in a room upstairs and were busy, during the day, writing letters, conversing and praying and singing. Between three, and four o'clock at the Prophet's request, Apostle Taylor sang this sweet and comforting poem:

A poor wayfaring man of grief,
Hath often cross'd me on my way,
Who sued so humbly for relief
That I could never answer Nay.

I had not power to ask his name;
Whither he went or whence he came;
Yet there was something in his eye
That won my love, I know not why.

Once when my scanty meal was spread,
He entered—not a word he spake!
Just perishing for want of bread;
I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,

And ate, but gave me part again;
Mine was an angel's portion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,
The crust was manna to my taste.

I spied him where a fountain burst,
Clear from the rock—his strength was gone,
The heedless water mocked his thirst,
He heard it, saw it hurrying on.

I ran and rais'd the suff'rer up;
Thrice from the stream he drain'd my cup,
Dipped and return'd it running o'er;
I drank and never thirsted more.

'Twas night, the floods were out, it blew
A winter hurricane aloof;
I heard his voice, abroad, and flew
To bid him welcome to my roof.

I warm'd, I cloth'd, I cheer'd my guest,
I laid him on my couch to rest;
Then made the earth my bed, and seem'd
In Eden's garden while I dream'd.

Stripp'd, wounded, beaten nigh to death,
1 found him by the highway side;
I rous'd his pulse, brought back his breath,
Reviv'd his spirit, and supplied

Wine, oil, refreshment—he was heal'd;
I had myself a wound conceal'd;
But from that hour forgot the smart,
And peace bound up my broken heart.

In prison I saw him next—condemn'd
To meet a traitor's doom at morn;
The tide of lying tongues I stemm'd,
And honor'd him 'mid shame and scorn.

My friendship's utmost zeal to try,
He asked if I for him would die;
The flesh was weak, my blood ran chill,
But the free spirit cried, "I will!"

Then in a moment to my view,
The stranger started from disguise;
The tokens in his hands I knew,
The Savior stood before mine eyes.

He spake—and my poor name he nam'd—
"Of me thou hast not been asham'd;
These deeds shall thy memorial be;
Fear not, thou didst them unto me."

And when it was done, Joseph asked him to repeat it. He replied that he did not feel like singing. He was oppressed with a sense of coming disaster; but to gratify Hyrum, he sang the hymn again, with much tender feeling.

At four o'clock the guard was changed. A little after five, the jailor came in and said that Stephen Markham had been surrounded by a mob and driven from Carthage. A little later there was a slight rustling at the outer door of the jail, and a cry of surrender, then a discharge of three or four guns. The plot had been carried out: two hundred of the mob came rushing into the jail yard, and the guards fired their pieces over the heads of the assailing party.

Many of the mob rushed up the stairs while others fired through the open windows of the jail into the room where the brethren were confined. The four prisoners sprang against the door, but the murderers burst it partly open and pushed their guns into the room. John Taylor and Willard Richards, each with a cane, tried to knock aside the weapons. A shower of bullets came up the stairway and through the door. Hyrum was in front of the door when a ball struck him in the face and he fell back saying:

"I AM A DEAD MAN."

As he was falling, another bullet from the outside passed through his swaying form, and two others from the doorway entered his body a moment later. When Hyrum fell, Joseph exclaimed, "Oh, my dear brother Hyrum!" and opening the door a few inches he discharged his pistol into the stairway—but two or three barrels missed fire.

When the door could no longer be held, and when he could no longer parry the guns, Elder Taylor sprang toward the window. A bullet from the doorway struck his left thigh. Paralyzed and unable to help himself he fell on the window sill, and felt himself falling out, when by some means which he did not understand at the time he was thrown backward into the room. A bullet fired from the outside struck his watch and the watch saved his life in two ways, it stopped the bullet, which probably would have killed him, and the force of the ball in striking it threw him into the room. The watch stopped at sixteen minutes and twenty-six seconds past 5 o'clock. After he fell into the room three other bullets struck him, spattering his blood like rain upon the walls and floor.

Joseph saw that there was no longer safety in the room; and thinking that he would save the life of Willard Richards if he himself should spring from the room, he turned immediately from the door, dropped his pistol and leaped into the window. Instantly two bullets pierced him from the door, and one entered his right breast from without, and he fell outward into the hands of his murderers exclaiming:

"OH LORD, MY GOD!"

When his body struck the ground he rolled instantly upon his face—dead. As he lay there, one of the mob, bare footed and bare headed, wearing no coat, with his trousers rolled above his knees and his shirt sleeves above his elbows, seized the body of the murdered Prophet and set it against the south side of the well curb. Colonel Levi Williams then ordered four men to shoot Joseph. Standing about eight feet from his body they fired simultaneously. The body slightly cringed as the bullets entered it, and once more Joseph fell upon his face. He had smiled with sweet compassion in his countenance as he gazed upon his murderers in the last moment of his life; and this was the expression when the face was set in death.

The Missourians had offered a large reward for Joseph's head; and the ruffian who had set him against the well curb now approached with a glittering knife for the purpose of severing the head from the body. William M. Daniels who claims to have been an eye-witness to the proceedings says that as he was about to make the awful stroke a vivid light burst from the heavens upon the bloody scene. It passed between Joseph and his murderers, and they were struck with terror. The knife fell from the powerless hand of the ruffian, and he stood transfixed. The muskets dropped from the arms of Williams' four executioners, and they had not the power to move a limb.

Horrified, the mob scattered in all directions. Williams cried to them to come back and carry off the four men who still stood like marble statues, frozen with terror. They obeyed, and these men were lifted into the baggage wagons as inert as corpses.

When Joseph fell from the window the mob on the stairway rushed down and out of the building to find him; and it was this which saved the lives of Willard Richards, and John Taylor. Willard started to leave the room thinking all were dead but himself; but Elder Taylor called to him. He returned, took up the body of John, which was bleeding from four ghastly wounds, and carried him into an inner dungeon cell and placed him on a filthy mattress which was lying there, saying: "If your wounds are not fatal I want you to live to tell this story."

Nearly all the inhabitants of Carthage followed the mob in their flight of horror. The governor came to Carthage in the night, wrote an order for the citizens of Nauvoo to defend themselves, and then the miserable coward fled to Quincy.

Having provided as well as possible for the wounds of John Taylor, on the morning of the 28th of June Dr. Richards started for Nauvoo with the bodies of the martyrs. They were met by thousands of lamenting Saints whose wailings ascended into the ears of Almighty God. Ten thousand people were addressed by Apostle Richards, Colonel Markham and others who admonished them to keep the peace and trust to the law for a remedy for the awful crimes which had been committed, and when the law failed, to call upon God in heaven to avenge them of their wrongs.

The bodies of the martyrs were taken to the Mansion House and cared for by loving friends. The loved ones of the dead Prophet and Patriarch were first admitted and fell upon the dear faces and kissed them and begged for one more word of comfort.

Early the next morning the bodies were placed in coffins covered with black velvet, and the caskets were then placed in rough pine boxes. The doors were thrown open, and ten thousand people walked through the Mansion and gazed upon the martyred clay. All this time the people were in constant expectation of an attack by the mob army upon the defenseless city.

At night the house was closed and then the coffins were lifted out of the boxes and concealed in an apartment of the Mansion while bags of sand took their place in the outer caskets. A mock funeral was held; the boxes were carried in a hearse to the graveyard and there deposited in the earth with the usual ceremonies. The course seemed necessary, because the enemies of Joseph and Hyrum had taken a ghastly oath to steal the remains.

At midnight the bodies were taken in their caskets from the Mansion House by Dimick B. Huntington, Edward Hunter, William D. Huntington, William Marks, Jonathan H. Holmes, Gilbert Goldsmith, Alpheus Cutler, Lorenzo D. Wasson, Philip B. Lewis and James Emmett to the Nauvoo House, the foundation of which was then built, and they were interred in the basement. Immediately afterward, a terrific storm of rain came on accompanied by thunder and lightning. The tears of heaven obliterated all traces of the newly dug graves, and the bodies remained there in safe repose until a later time when they were removed elsewhere.

The woe of the Saints cannot be described. They were menaced with extermination. Their Prophet and Patriarch were dead. Only two of the Apostles were there, and one of these was supposed to be dying.

The enemies of truth were sure that they had now destroyed the work. And yet it lives, greater and stronger after the lapse of years! It is indestructible for it is the work of God. And knowing that it is the eternal work of God, we know that Joseph Smith, who established it, was a Prophet holy and pure.