The following articles, on the Night of the Prophet's and Patriarch's Martyrdom, together with the suffering exit of the author's lamented wife, are inserted in this volume in order to perpetuate the memories of the "just," and render to the heavens a tribute of gratitude for their manifest interest in the tried condition of Saints on earth:

Twenty-seventh of June, 1844. Eventful period in the calendar of the 19th century! That awful night!! I remember it well—I shall never forget it! Thousands and tens of thousands will never forget it! A solemn thrill—a melancholy awe comes o'er my spirit! The memorable scene is fresh before me! It requires no art of the pencil, no retrospection of history to portray it. The impression of the Almighty Spirit on that occasion will run parallel with eternity! The scene was not portrayed by earthquake, or thunderings and lightnings, and tempest; but the majesty and sovereignty of Jehovah was felt far more impressively in the still small voice of that significant hour, than the roaring of many waters, or the artillery of many thunders, when the spirit of Joseph was driven back to the bosom of God, by an ungrateful and blood-guilty world. There was an unspeakable something, a portentous significancy in the firmament and among the inhabitants of the earth. Multitudes felt the whisperings of wo and grief, and the forebodings of tribulation and sorrow that they will never forget, though the tongue of man can never utter it. The Saints of God, whether near the scene of blood, or even a thousand miles distant, felt at the very moment the prophet lay in royal gore, that an awful deed was perpetrated. O, the repulsive chill! the melancholy vibrations of the very air, as the prince of darkness receded in hopeful triumph from the scene of slaughter! That night could not the Saints sleep, though uninformed by man of what had passed with the Seer and Patriarch, and far, far remote from the scene; yet to them sleep refused a visitation—the eyelids refused to close—the hearts of many sighed deeply in secret, and enquired why am I thus.

One of the Twelve Apostles, while travelling a hundred miles from the scene of assassination, and totally ignorant of what was done, was so unaccountably sad, and filled with such unspeakable anguish of heart, without knowing the cause, that he was constrained to turn aside from the road and give utterance to his feelings in tears and supplications to God. Another Apostle, twelve hundred miles distant, while standing in Fanuel Hall, Boston, Massachusetts, with many others, was similarly affected, and obliged to turn aside to hide the big tears that gushed thick and long from his eyes. Another, president of the high priests, while in the distant state of Kentucky, in the solitude of midnight, being marvellously disquieted, God condescended to show him, in a vision, the mangled bodies of the two murdered worthies, all dripping in purple gore, who said to him, we are murdered by a faithless state and cruel mob.

Shall I attempt to describe the scene at Nauvoo on that memorable evening? If I could, surely you would weep, whatever may be your faith or scepticism, if the feelings of humanity are lodged in your bosom; all prejudice and mirth would slumber, till the eye of pity had bedewed the bier, and the heart had found relief in lamentation. Before another day dawned, the messenger bore the tidings into the afflicted city; the picquet guards of the city heard the whisper of murder in silent amazement, as the messenger passed into the city. There the pale muslin signal for gathering the troops hung its drooping folds from the temple spire (as if partaking of nature's sadness), and made tremulous utterance to the humble soldiery to muster immediately. As the dawn made the signal visible, and the base tone of the great drum confirmed the call, fathers, husbands, and minor sons all seized the broken fragment of a dodger, or a scanty bone, for the service that might be long and arduous before their return, or swallowed some thickened milk (as might be the case) and fled to the muster ground; the suspicious mother and children followed to the door and window, anxious to see the gathering hosts emerge from their watch-posts and firesides, where rest and food were scanted to the utmost endurance. The troops continued to arrive, and stood in martial order, with a compressed lip and a quick ear. They waited with deathly but composed silence, to hear the intelligence that mournful spirits had saddened their hearts with during the night. The speaker stood up in the midst, not of an uniform soldiery of hirelings, for they had no wages; their clothing was the workmanship of the diligent domestic—the product of wife and daughters' arduous toil; their rations were drawn from the precarious supplies, earned in the intervals between preaching to the states and nations of the earth, and watching against the intrusions and violence of mobs. The speaker announced the martyrdom of the Prophet and Patriarch, and paused under the heavy burden of the intelligence.

But here I must pause; my pen shall touch lightly, as it must feebly, that hallowed—that solemn and ever memorable hour! The towering indignation; the holy and immutable principle of retribution for crime that dwells eternally in the bosom of God, insensibly impelled the right hand almost to draw the glittering sword, and feel the sharpness of the bayonet's point and its fixedness to the musket's mouth. But the well planted principle of self-command, and also of observing the order of heaven and the council of the priesthood, soon returned the deadly steel to the scabbard; and the victorious triumph of loyalty to God, in committing evil doers to Him that judgeth righteously, and who hath said, "vengeance is mine and I will repay," prevailed over the billows of passion; and in the transit of a fleeting moment the holy serenity of the soldiery, depicted by an occasional tear, showed to angels and men, that the tempest of passion was hushed, and wholly under the control of the spirit of wisdom and of God. It was the most unearthly and morally sublime scene that I ever witnessed. Contemplate a city and community of 20,000 people, whose love for their leader, the Prophet of the Lord, was warm and abiding as the love of David and Jonathan, in an evil moment betrayed by a sovereign State! Under his instructions they had been taught the ways of truth and salvation—they had been gathered from remote parts, even distant islands and continents, that they might hear the word of the Lord from his lips, and build up a city where gambling and lewdness, theft and drunkenness should have no admittance! And the life of Joseph was considered so necessary to the work of God and the welfare of the human family, that many thousands could readily have died in his stead, if that could have preserved his life. But the Governor of Illinois, the Commander-in-Chief of 80,000 organized militia, threatened the speedy demolition of the whole city of Nauvoo, if Joseph was not delivered up to him for trial on the antiquated charge of treason! He made the most solemn assurance, and pledged the sacred faith of the State, that he should be kept safe and unharmed until he could have a fair and impartial trial. But oh! the cruel perfidy of that modern Nero, the governor! and the bloody butchery of the soldiery (some of whom had been disbanded and others had not), that could deliberately murder innocent and helpless men, that had surrendered at discretion, after all the strongest assurances of protection! The soldiery in Nauvoo numbered near four thousand, while those in alliance with the bloody perpetrators in the country, were not more than one-half the number. They would have been an easy prey to the merited revenge of the outraged force at Nauvoo; but that force bore the outrages with coolness and wisdom that has never been equalled by uninspired men. They governed themselves under circumstances the most extraordinary, and hearkened calmly to the voice of wisdom, when their pain and grief were almost insupportable. The soldiery on the Temple square heard, but felt that there was no adequate victim for vengeance in the county, or even in the destruction of the whole State. Some, least tender in their hearts, found relief in tears. In the houses of the Saints, aside from the soldiery, females, less competent to bear the news than husbands and fathers, in some instances lost their sanity of mind for a season; but as the sun arose and the people congregated on the green, after being exhorted to give their enemies into the hands of Him that judgeth righteously, tranquillity and order ensued. But not so with the mob. During all the bloody night their houses were hastily deserted by men, women, and children. So great was the consternation and so precipitate the flight, that even females fled in their nightclothes, almost naked, and continued their flight amid imprecations and shrieks for the distance of even fifty miles, where, exhausted and frightened, they alarmed villages, and the city of Quincy to the ringing of bells, and the speedy gathering of every person that could bear arms for their defence; but no man pursued, though "the wicked fled."