CHAPTER XVIII - THE DANITE AND HIS DUTY
While my mind is running in that direction let me tell of certain of the doings of the Danites. These stories I relate will illustrate the purpose and uses of the Danite in the work of the Mormon Church, and show how the sword of Gideon was wielded in cases smaller than the affair at Mountain Meadows, still to be written down. What follows are instances of thousands of like kind.
In the fall of 1859 two young men on their way to California stopped at the Santa Clara fort to recruit their jaded animals. Expecting that while doing so they might be so fortunate as to meet with a train of people going to the same place, and have company to San Bernardino, the young men stayed at the fort over two months. Hamblin, one of the Danites, assured them that they could go alone through the country with perfect safety. At the same time he had his plans laid to take their lives as soon as they started. This was by direction of the Mormon leaders. The Indians around the fort wanted to kill the men at once, but Hamblin objected, and told the Indians to wait until the men got out in the desert.
At last these young men started from the fort. Hamblin told the Indians that the right time had come, and wanted the Indians to ambush themselves at a point agreed on near the desert, where the men could be safely killed. The Indians obeyed Hamblin's orders, and as the men approached the place of ambush fired upon them, killing one of the men. The other returned the fire, and shot one of Hamblin's pet Indians through the hand; this Indian's name was Queets, which means left-handed. By wounding this Indian he managed to escape, with the loss of the pack animals, provisions, and the riding animal of his partner, who lay dead upon the desert. The survivor stayed with Mr. Judd for a few days, when a company of emigrants came that way, and, departing with them, he succeeded in making his escape from the death that Hamblin still planned for him.
One day, this was in 1857, an emigrant train was passing through the Mormon settlements. Hamblin, the Danite at Santa Clara, made arrangements with Nephi Johnson, who was to act as their guide, how and where to relieve this company of the large herd of stock that belonged to the train. They had a number of horses and cattle, more than five hundred head in all. Several Indian interpreters were sent ahead of the train. One of these was Ira Hatch, a Danite. They were ordered by Hamblin to prepare the Indians for a raid upon the stock.
About 10 o'clock, a. m., just after the train had crossed the Muddy, and was a few miles beyond it on the desert, at the time and place settled on by Hamblin, over one hundred Indians made a dash on the train and drove off all the stock to the Muddy.
The emigrants fired at the Indians, but Nephi Johnson their guide, rushed out and told them that if they valued their own lives they must not fire again, for if they did he could not protect them from the cruelty of the savages - that the Indians would return and massacre them.
The acting of Johnson and the other Danites who were with him was so good that after a consultation the emigrants decided to follow his advice. The conclusion was that, as Johnson was friendly with the Indians, and could talk their language, he should go and see the Indians and try and get the stock back.
The emigrants waited in the desert, and Johnson went to the Indians, or pretended to do so. After a few hours he returned, and reported that the Indians were hostile, and threatened to attack the train at once; that he was afraid he could not prevent it, and the only chance for the emigrants lay in their instant departure; that while the emigrants were gaining a place of safety he would, at the risk of his life, make an effort to keep the Indians back and pacify them. Also that he would report to Hamblin as soon as possible, and raise a force of men at the fort and get back the stock, if it could be done, and write to the company, giving an account of his success. They were to get his letter at San Bernardino, and if he recovered the stock the emigrants could send back a party to receive it and drive it to California.
Under the circumstances the company adopted his plan, and he left them on the desert, with all their stock gone; but the danger was over, for the stock was what Hamblin and Johnson had been working for.
Johnson returned and ordered the Indians to drive the stock to the Clara. The Indians acted like good Mormons, and obeyed orders. Hamblin gave them a few head of cattle for their services in aiding him to capture the drove. The remainder of the cattle and horses Hamblin took charge of for the benefit of the Mission. As the cattle became fat enough for beef, they were sold or butchered for the use of the settlers. Some were traded to nearby settlements for sheep and other articles.
In the winter of 1857-8 John Weston, a Danite, took an Irishman who had been stopping with him as his guest on a hunt, and when he got him to the brush and timber four miles west of Cedar City he cut his throat and left the body unburied. He had received orders to kill the man, because Brother Haight considered him a spy.
Near the same time Philip Klingensmith, a Danite, laid in ambush to kill Robert Keyes (now a resident of Beaver City, Utah Territory), while Keyes was irrigating his field. Klingensmith decided to kill Keyes because Keyes refused to give testimony when requested to do so by Klingensmith, who was then a bishop of the Church. When Keyes came within a few feet of his hiding place Klingensmith raised his gun and took aim at Keyes' heart; but the cap burst without exploding the powder, and Keyes escaped.
After the Mountain Meadows massacre Haight reported that I was the big captain who had planned, led, and executed it; that the honor of such a deed for avenging of the blood of the Prophets would lead to honor, immortality, and eternal life in the Kingdom of God. In this way it became a settled fact that I was the leader in that affair. Year by year the story has gained ground and strength, until I am now held responsible, and am to die, to save the Church.
As I have stated in other places in my writings, the people in Utah who professed the Mormon religion were at and for some time before the Mountain Meadows massacre full of wildfire and zeal, anxious to do something to build up the Kingdom of God on earth and waste the enemies of the Mormon religion. At that time it was a common thing for small bands of people on their way from California to pass through Cedar City. Many of these people were killed. When a Gentile came into a town he was looked upon with suspicion, and most of the people considered every stranger a spy from the United States army. The killing of Gentiles was a means of grace and a virtuous deed. I remember an affair that took place at the old distillery in Cedar City, just before the massacre.
Three men came to Cedar City one evening; they were poor, and much worn by their long journey. They were on their way to California. The authorities believed they were dangerous men; that they were spies from Johnston's army; and ordered the Danites to devise a plan to put them out of the way decently and in order.
That the will of God might be done, these men were coaxed to go to the old distillery and take a drink. They went in company with Danites John M. Higbee, John Weston, James Haslem, and Wm. C. Stewart, and another man, whose name I have forgotten. The party drank considerable, and when the emigrants got under the influence of the whisky the brethren attacked them and knocked the brains out of two with the kingbolt of a wagon. The third man was powerful and muscular; he fought valiantly for his life, but after a struggle he was overcome and killed. They were buried near Cedar City.
Some time in the fall of 1857, not long after the Mountain Meadows massacre, it was decided by the authorities at Salt Lake City that Lieut. Tobin must be killed. Tobin had left a train in Salt Lake, joined the Church there, and afterwards married a daughter of Brother Charles C. Rich, one of the twelve apostles. Tobin was a smart man, and soon after his marriage he was sent to England on a mission.
While preaching in England, it was reported that he had committed adultery, and he was ordered home. On his arrival in Salt Lake he was cut off from the Church, and his wife taken from him by order of Brigham. He made several efforts to get out of the Territory.
Finally he joined a company and left Salt Lake, intending to go to California. After he had been gone a few days the Destroying Angels were put on his trail, with orders to kill him before they returned.
Two desperate Danites were selected, who knew nothing but to obey orders: Joel White and John Willis were the Danites. They started on the trail, determined to kill Tobin when they found him.
White and Willis overtook the company that Tobin was traveling with at a point near the crossing of the Magottsey. They found where he was sleeping, and, going to him as he lay on the ground rolled up in his blanket, they shot him several times. Although thinking him dead, they concluded to shoot him once more to make certain that he would not escape, so they put a pistol against his eye and fired; the ball put out his eye, but did not kill him. The Angels made their escape and returned to Salt Lake City, and reported that their orders were obeyed. Severely wounded as he was, Tobin recovered, and was, when I last heard from him, in the Union army.
At Parowan, in 1855 or 1856, there was a man by the name of Robert Gillespie. He was a member of the Church, had one wife, and owned a fine property. Gillespie wanted to be sealed to his sister-in-law, but for some reason his request was denied. He had known of others obtaining wives by committing adultery and then being sealed to avoid scandal. So he tried it, and went to Apostle Smith, and again asked to be sealed to the woman. But Brother Smith refused to seal him or let him be sealed, giving as his reason for refusing, that Gillespie had exercised the rights of sealing without first obtaining orders to do so. A warrant was issued and Gillespie was arrested and placed under guard; he was also sued in the Probate Court, before James Lewis, Probate Judge, and a heavy judgment rendered against him, and all of his property was sold to pay the fine and costs. The money was put into the Church fund and Gillespie was broken up.
The fate of old man Braffett, of Parowan, was a peculiar one, and, as it afterwards led me into trouble, I will give the story briefly. Old man Braffett lived at Parowan, and in the fall of 1855 a man by the name of Woodward came to Braffett's house and stopped to recruit his teams before crossing the deserts. Woodward had two wives. He had lived in Nauvoo, and while there had been architect for the Nauvoo House. While Woodward and his family were stopping with Braffett, one of his wives concluded that she would be damned if she went to live in California, - leaving the land of the Saints, - and she asked to be divorced from Woodward and sealed to Braffett.
At first Braffett refused to take her, but she was a likely woman. She made love to the old man in earnest. Mrs. Braffett made a fuss about it. The authorities were informed of Braffett's transgressions, and he was arrested and taken before the Probate Judge and tried for the sin. He made a bill of sale of some of his property to me, for which I paid him before his trial.
After hearing the case, the Probate Judge fined him one thousand dollars, and ordered him to be imprisoned until fine and costs were paid. Ezra Curtis, the then marshal at Parowan, took all of Braffett's property that could be found and sold it for the purpose of paying the fine; but the large amount of property which was taken was sold for a small sum, for the brethren will not bid much for property taken from one who has broken his covenants.
Being unable to pay the fine, the old man was ordered to be taken to Salt Lake City, to be imprisoned in the prison there. I was selected to take him to Salt Lake. I took the old man there, and, after many days spent in working with Brigham, I succeeded in securing a pardon for him.
Braffett was put to work at Salt Lake by Brigham. He dared not return home at that time. His property was gone, and he was ruined. The part I took to befriend the old man made several of the brethren at Parowan angry with me, and they swore they would have revenge against me for interfering where I was not interested.
After Braffett's pardon I stayed in Salt Lake some time, and when I started home there were quite a number of people along. All the teams were heavily loaded; the roads were bad, and our teams weak. We all had to walk much of the time. After we had passed the Severe River the road was very bad. My team was the best in the whole company, and I frequently let some of the women who were in the party ride in my wagon.
One evening, just about dark, I was asked by a young woman named Alexander to let her ride, as she was very tired walking. I had her get into the wagon with my wife Rachel, and she rode there until we camped for the night. I got into the wagon after dark and drove the team. We had ridden in this way an hour or so, when Rachel said she was going to ride a while in the next wagon, which was driven by son-in-law Dalton.
Soon after Rachel got out of the wagon a couple of my enemies rode by. I spoke to them, and they rode on. As soon as these men reached the camp they reported that I had been taking privileges with Sister Alexander. I was told to consider myself under arrest, and that when we reached Parowan I would be tried by the Council for violating my covenants. I was surprised and grieved at the charge, for I was innocent, and the young woman was a virtuous woman. As God is soon to judge me, I declare that I never knew of her committing any sin.
When we reached Parowan there was a meeting called by the Priesthood to try me. This Council was composed of the President of that Stake of Zion and his two Counselors, the High Council, and the leading men of Parowan. It was a general meeting of the authorities, Church and civil.
The meeting was held in a chamber that was used for a prayer circle. It was called a circle room, because the people met there to hold prayer in a circle, which was done in this way: All the brethren would kneel in a circle around the room, near enough to each other for their arms to touch, so that the influence would be more powerful.
When the meeting was called to order, all the lights were put out; and I was taken into the darkened room and placed on trial. I could not see my hand before my face. The charge was stated to me and I was ordered to confess my guilt. I told them I was innocent; that I had committed no crime - in fact, had not thought of wrong. I told the truth, just as it was. I was then ordered to stand one side.
The young woman was then brought into the room, and as she came in a pistol was placed to my head and I was told to keep silent. She was questioned and threatened at length, but not all the threats they could use would induce her to tell a falsehood. She insisted that I was entirely innocent.
Next her father, an old man, was introduced and questioned. He told the Council that he had diligently inquired into the matter, and believed I was innocent. Neither the young woman nor her father knew who was in the room. All they knew was that they were being examined before the secret tribunal of Utah, and that a false oath in that place would insure their death.
When the evidence had been received, and the witnesses retired, the candles were again lighted. Then speeches were made by most of the men present, and every one but two spoke in favor of my conviction. Without taking a vote, the meeting adjourned, or rather left that place and went somewhere else to consult. I was left in the dark, the house locked and guards placed around the building. I was told that my fate would soon be decided, and I would then be informed. I knew so well the manner of dealing in such cases that I expected to be killed in the dark, but for some reason it was not done.
Next morning some food was brought to me, but I was still kept a prisoner and refused the liberty of consulting with friends or any of my family. Late that day I looked out of the window of the chamber where I was confined, and saw a man by the name of John Steel. He was first Counselor to the President of that Stake of Zion. I called to him and asked him to secure my freedom. After stating the case to him, he promised to see what could be done for me, and went away.
Through his exertions I was released. I was told to go home and hold myself subject to orders - that my case was not yet decided. I went home, but for months I expected death every day; for it is the usual course of the authorities to send an Angel after men who are charged with or suspected of having violated their covenants.
Nothing further was done about the case, but it was held over me as a means of forcing me to live in accordance with the wishes of the Priesthood and to prevent me from again interfering with the Church authorities when they saw fit to destroy a man, as they destroyed old man Braffett; and it did have the effect of making me more careful.
In 1854 (I think that was the year) there was a young man, a Gentile, working in Parowan. He was quiet and orderly, but was courting some of the girls. He was notified to quit, and let the girls alone, but he still kept going to see them. This was contrary to orders. No Gentile is allowed to keep company with or visit any Mormon girl or woman.
The authorities decided to have the young man killed, so they called two of Bishop Dames' Destroying Angels, Barney Carter and old man Gould, and told them to take that young Gentile "over the rim of the basin." That was a term used by the Danites when they killed a person. The Destroying Angels made some excuse to induce the young man to go with them on an excursion, and when they got close to Shirts' mill, near Harmony, they killed him and left his body in the brush.
The Indians found the body, and reported the facts to me soon afterwards. I was not at home that night, but Carter and Gould went to my house and stayed there all night. Rachel asked them where they had been. They told her they had been on a mission to take a young man, a Gentile, over the rim of the basin, and Carter showed her his sword, which was bloody, and said he used it to help the Gentile over the edge. Rachel knew what they meant when they spoke of sending him "over the rim of the basin." It was at that time a common thing to see Danites going out of Cedar City and Harmony, with suspected Gentiles, to send them "over the rim of the basin," and the Gentiles were always sent.
This practice was supported by the people, and everything of that kind was done by orders from the Council, or by orders from some of the Priesthood. When a Danite or a Destroying Angel was placed on a man's track, that man died, certain, unless some providential act saved him, as in Tobin's case.
The Mormons believe in blood atonement. It is taught by the leaders, and believed by the people, that the Priesthood are inspired and cannot give a wrong order. It is the belief of all that I ever heard talk of these things - and I have been with the Church since the dark days in Jackson County - that the authority that orders is the only responsible party and the Danite who does the killing only an instrument, and commits no wrong. In other words, if Brigham or any of his apostles, or any of the Priesthood, gives an order to a Danite, the act is the act of the one giving the order, and the Danite doing the act only an instrument of the person commanding - just as much an instrument as the knife used to cut the throat of the victim. This being the belief of all good Mormons, it is easily understood why the orders of the Priesthood are so blindly obeyed by the people.
In 1857 there was an emigrant, a Gentile, who worked a number of months for Captain Jacob Huffine, at Parowan. This man wanted his pay; it was not convenient to pay him; he insisted on being paid, but not getting his wages, determined to leave. He started for the settlement at Summit, about seven miles from Parowan. The Indians were sent for and ordered to overtake and kill the man. They did so, and shot him full of arrows. The man called to the Indians and told them he was a Mormon and that they must not kill him. The Indians replied by saying:
"We know you; you are no Mormon, you are a Mericat."
They beat his head with rocks, and cut his throat, and then went back to Parowan and reported what they had done.
Brother Lancy had formed the acquaintance of the family of Aden while on a mission to Tennessee, and was saved by Mr. Aden from a mob that threatened his death because he was a Mormon preacher. When Fancher's train reached Parowan, Brother Laney met young Aden and recognized him as the son of the man who had saved his life. Aden told him he was hungry, and that he and his comrades had been unable to purchase supplies from the Mormons ever since they left Salt Lake City.
Brother Laney took young Aden to his house, gave him his supper, and let him sleep there that night. The next day Laney was accused by leading men of being unfaithful to his obligations. They said he had supported the enemies of the Church and given aid and comfort to one whose hands were still red with the blood of the Prophet. A few nights after that the Destroying Angels, doing the bidding of Bishop Dame, were ordered to kill Brother Laney to save him from his sins, he having violated his endowment oath and furnished food to a man who had been declared an outlaw by the Mormon Church.
The Angels were commanded by Barney Carter, a son-in-law of Bishop Dame. The Angels called Laney out of the house, saying that Bishop Dame wished to see him. As Laney passed through the gate into the street he was struck across the back of the head with a club by Barney Carter. His skull was fractured and for many months Laney lay at the point of death, and his mind still shows the effect of the injury he then received, for his brain has never quite settled since. I have frequently talked with Laney. He is still strong in the Mormon faith, and believes that Dame had the right to have him killed. Punishment by death is the penalty for refusing to obey the orders of the Priesthood. About this time the Church was in the throes of a "reformation."
One of the objects of the reformation was to place the Priesthood in possession of every secret act and crime that had been committed by a member of the Church. These secrets were obtained in this way: a meeting would be called; some Church leader would make a speech, defining the duties that the people owed the Priesthood, and instructing the people why it was necessary that the Priesthood should control the acts of the people; it was preached that to keep back any fact from the knowledge of the Priesthood was an unpardonable sin.
After one or more such discourses the people were called upon by name, commanded to rise from their seats, and standing in the midst of the congregation publicly confess their sins. If the confession was not full and complete, it was made the duty of the members of the Church, or any one of them who knew that the party confessing had committed a crime which he or he had not divulged, to then make public the same.
Unless the party then confessed, a charge was preferred against him or her for a violation of covenants, and either full confession and repentance immediately followed, or the sinful member was slain for the remission of sins - it being taught by the leaders, and believed by the people, that the right thing to do when a sinner did not repent and obey the Council, was to take the life of the offending party and thus save his or her everlasting soul. This was called Blood Atonement. The members who fully confessed their sins were again admitted into the Church and rebaptized, taking new covenants to obey any and all orders of the Priesthood and refuse all manner of assistance, friendship, or communication with those who failed of strict obedience to the authorities of the Church. The most deadly sin among the people was adultery, and many men were killed by the Danites for that crime.
Brother Rosmos Anderson was a Danish man who had come to Utah with his family to receive the benefits arising from an association with the Latter-day Saints. He had married a widow lady somewhat older than himself; and she had a daughter who was fully grown. The girl was anxious to be sealed to her stepfather. Anderson was equally anxious to take her for a second wife, but Bishop Klingensmith had set his eye on her, and desired her for himself.
At one of the meetings Anderson and his stepdaughter confessed they had committed adultery, believing that if they did so that Brigham would allow them to marry when he learned the facts. Their confession being full, they were rebaptized and received into full membership. They were then placed under covenant that if they again committed adultery Anderson should suffer death.
Soon after this a charge was laid against Anderson before the Council, accusing him of adultery with his stepdaughter. This Council was composed of Bishop Klingensmith and his two counselors; it was the Bishop's Council. The Council voted that Anderson must die for violating his covenants. Bishop Klingensmith went to Anderson and told him the judgment was that he must die by having his throat cut, so that the running of his blood would atone for his sins.
Anderson, being a firm believer in the doctrine of Blood Atonement and the teachings of the Mormon Church, made no protest, but asked half a day to prepare for death. His request was granted. His wife was ordered to prepare a suit of clean clothing, in which to have her husband buried, and informed that he was to be killed for his sins, she being directed to tell those who inquired after her husband that he had gone to California.
Bishop Klingensmith and Danite James Haslem dug a grave in a field near Cedar City, and that night, about twelve o'clock, went to Anderson's house and told him to make ready to obey the Council. Anderson got up, dressed himself, bid his family good- by, and without remonstrance accompanied those he believed were carrying out the will of Almighty God. They went to the place where the grave was prepared, Anderson kneeling by the side of the grave and praying. Bishop Klingensmith then cut Anderson's throat and held him so that his blood ran into the grave.
As soon as he was dead they dressed him in his clean clothes, threw him into the grave and buried him. They then carried his bloody clothing back to his family, and gave them to his wife to wash, when she was again instructed to say that her husband was in California. She obeyed their orders.
No move of that kind was made in Cedar City unless by order of the Council or of the High Council. Anderson was killed just before the Mountain Meadows massacre. The killing of Anderson was a religious duty and a just act. It was justified by the people, for they were bound by the same covenants, and the least word of objection to thus treating the man who had broken his covenant would have brought the same fate upon the person wicked enough to raise his voice against the Church authorities.
Brigham knew that I was not a man who liked to take life. I was well known as one that stood high in the confidence of Brigham, and was close-mouthed and reliable. I knew of many men being killed in Nauvoo by the Danites. It was then the rule that all the enemies of the Prophet Joseph should be killed, and I know of many a man who was quietly put out of the way by the orders of Joseph and his apostles while the Church was there. It has always been a well understood doctrine of the Church that it is right and praiseworthy to kill every person who speaks evil of the Prophet. This doctrine was strictly lived up to in Utah, until the Gentiles arrived in such numbers that it became unsafe to follow the practice; but the doctrine is believed, and no year passes without one or more of those who have spoken evil of Brigham being killed, in a secret manner. Springfield, Utah, was one of the Church hotbeds, and more men were killed there, in proportion to population, than in any other part of Utah. In that settlement it was certain death to say a word against the authorities, high or low.
Brother Warren Snow was bishop of the Church at Manti, San Pete County, Utah. He had several wives, but there was a fair young woman in the town that Snow wanted for a wife. He made love to her with all his powers, went to parties where she was, visited her at her home, and proposed to make her his wife. She thanked him for the honor offered, but told him she was engaged to a young man, a member of the Church, and consequently could not marry the old priest.
This was no sufficient reason to Brother Snow. He told her it was the will of God that she should marry him, and she must do so; that the young man could be got rid of - sent on a mission or dealt with in some way so as to release her from her engagement; that, in fact, a promise made to the young man was not binding when she was informed that it was contrary to the wishes of the authorities.
The girl continued obstinate.
The "teachers" of the town visited her and advised her to marry Bishop Snow. Her parents, under the orders of the Counselors of the Bishop, also insisted that their daughter marry the old man.
She still refused.
Then the authorities called on the young man and directed him to give up the girl. This he steadfastly declined to do. He was promised Church preferment, celestial rewards, and everything that could be thought of - all to no purpose. He said he would die before he would surrender his intended wife.
This resistance of authority by the young people made Bishop Snow more anxious than ever to marry the girl. The young man was ordered on a mission to some distant locality. But the mission was refused.
It was then determined that the rebellious young man should be forced by harsh treatment to respect the advice and orders of the Priesthood. His fate was left to Bishop Snow.
It was decided to call a meeting of the people who lived true to counsel, to be held in the schoolhouse in Manti, at which the young man should be present, and dealt with according to Snow's will. The meeting was called. The young man was there, and was again requested to surrender the young woman to Snow, but he refused.
The lights were then put out. An attack was made on the young man. He was tied down with his back to a bench, when Bishop Snow took a bowie knife and slashed and mutilated him. They left the young man weltering in his blood. During the night he succeeded in releasing himself from his confinement, and dragged himself to some haystacks, where he lay until the next day, when he was discovered by friends. The young man has been an idiot or quiet lunatic ever since.
Bishop Snow took soon occasion to get up another meeting at the schoolhouse, so as to have the people of Manti and the young woman that he wanted to marry attend the meeting. When all had assembled the old man talked to the people about their duty to the Church, their obligation to obey counsel and the dangers of refusal; and called attention to the case of the young man. The young woman was sealed to Bishop Snow.