During the three weeks the girls stood on guard, their father, who was desirous to get tidings of his sick son, came frequently to a thicket of underbrush, where the girls would bring his food and communicate with him concerning affairs at the house.
One evening during this season of guard duty, the girls discovered five armed men approaching. Running to the house, they gave the alarm. In a few moments every woman and child of the six families were hiding in the neighboring corn-field, excepting Louisa, her mother and her sick brother.
"Mother," said the boy, "you and Louisa run and hide. The mob will be sure to kill me. They will see how tall I am by the bed-clothes, and will think I am a man. You and sister Louisa escape or they will kill you too."
But the mother resolved to share the fate of her son, unless she could protect him by her presence, and soften the hearts of savage mobocrats by a mother's prayers for mercy; but she bade her daughter fly with the baby. Louisa, however, also determined to stay to defend both her brother and her mother. So they armed themselves—the mother with an axe, and Louisa with a formidable pair of old-fashioned fire-tongs, and stationed themselves at either door.
But it turned out that the men were a squad of friends, whom the father had sent to inquire after his family; yet the incident illustrates those days of universal terror for the Mormons in the State of Missouri. Worse, even, than the horrors of ordinary war must it have been, when thus women, children and the sick, when not a Mormon man was present to provoke the mob to bloodshed, looked for massacre upon massacre as daily scenes which all in turn might expect to overtake them.
After the fall of the city of Far West, it being decided that the Mormons should make a grand exodus from Missouri in the spring, Mr. Free determined to anticipate it. Gathering up what property he could save from the sacrifice, he started with his family for Illinois, abandoning the beautiful farm he had purchased and paid for, along with the improvements he had made.
In their flight to Illinois they were frequently overtaken and threatened by mobs, but fortunately escaped personal violence, as it was evident they were hastening from the inhospitable State. But the inhumanity of the Missourians in those times is well illustrated in the following incident:
Along with Brother Free's party were William Duncan and Solomon Allen, whose feet were so badly frozen one day that they were unable to proceed. At every house on the route the exiles called, soliciting permission to shelter and care for the disabled men; but at every place they were turned away, until at last, at eleven o'clock at night, they were graciously permitted to occupy some negro quarters. The grace, however, of Missouri was redeemed by a codicil that "No d—d Mormon should stop among white folks!"
This was mercy, indeed, for Missouri, and it is written in the book of remembrance.
The party stopped and occupied the negro quarters, nursing the men during the night, and so far restored them that they were enabled to go on the next day.