The City of the Saints, and Across the Rocky Mountains to California

by Sir Richard Francis Burton

These reflections and a thousand others flashed upon my mind. I thought, Why must the good perish, and the virtuous be destroyed? Why must God’s nobility, the salt of the earth, the most exalted of the human family, and the most perfect types of all excellence, fall victims to the cruel, fiendish hate of incarnate devils?

The poignancy of my grief, I presume, however, was somewhat allayed by the extreme suffering that I endured from my wounds.

Soon afterward I was taken to the head of the stairs and laid there, where I had a full view of our beloved and now murdered brother Hyrum. There he lay as I had left him; he had not moved a limb; he lay placid and calm, a monument of greatness even in death; but his noble spirit had left its tenement, and was gone to dwell in regions more congenial to its exalted nature. Poor Hyrum! he was a great and a good man, and my soul was cemented to his. If ever there was an exemplary, honest, and virtuous man, an embodiment of all that is noble in the human form, Hyrum Smith was its representative.

While I lay there a number of persons came around, among whom was a physician. The doctor, on seeing a ball lodged in my left hand, took a penknife from his pocket and made an incision in it for the purpose of extracting the ball therefrom, and having obtained a pair of carpenter’s compasses, made use of them to draw or pry out the ball, alternately using the penknife and compasses. After sawing for some time with a dull penknife, and prying and pulling with the compasses, he ultimately succeeded in extracting the ball, which was about a half ounce one. Some time afterward he remarked to a friend of mine that “I had nerves like the devil to stand what I did in its extraction.” I really thought I had need of nerves to stand such surgical butchery, and that, whatever my nerves may be, his practice was devilish.

This company wished to remove me to Mr. Hamilton’s hotel, the place where we had staid previous to our incarceration in jail. I told them, however, that I did not wish to go; I did not consider it safe. They protested that it was, and that I was safe with them; that it was a perfect outrage for men to be used as we had been; that they were my friends; that it was for my good they were counseling me, and that I could be better taken care of there than here.

I replied, “I don’t know you. Who am I among? I am surrounded by assassins and murderers; witness your deeds! Don’t talk to me of kindness or comfort; look at your murdered victims. Look at me! I want none of your counsel nor comfort. There may be some safety here; I can be assured of none any where,” etc.

They “God damned their souls to hell,” made the most solemn asseverations, and swore by God and the devil, and every thing else that they could think of, that they would stand by me to death and protect me. In half an hour every one of them had fled to the town.

Soon after a coroner’s jury were assembled in the room over the body of Hyrum. Among the jurors was Captain Smith, of the “Carthage Grays,” who had assisted in the murder, and the same justice before whom we had been tried. I heard the name of Francis Higbee as being in the neighborhood; on hearing his name mentioned, I immediately rose and said, “Captain Smith, you are a justice of the peace; I have heard his name mentioned; I want to swear my life against him.” I was informed that word was immediately sent to him to leave the place, which he did.

Brother Richards was busy during this time attending to the coroner’s inquest, and to the removal of the bodies, and making arrangements for their removal from Carthage to Nauvoo.

When we had a little leisure, he again came to me, and at his suggestion I was removed to Hamilton’s tavern; I felt that he was the only friend, the only person, that I could rely upon in that town. It was with difficulty that sufficient persons could be found to carry me to the tavern; for immediately after the murder a great fear fell upon all the people, and men, women, and children fled with great precipitation, leaving nothing nor any body in the town but two or three women and children, and one or two sick persons.