The following account of Joseph Smith’s death is excerpted from Hubert Howe Bancroft’s History of Utah, 1540-1886 (pp. 175-183).
On the 24th of June1 Joseph and Hyrum Smith, the members of the council, and all others demanded, proceeded to Carthage, gave themselves up, and were charged with riot. All entered into recognizances before the justice of the peace to appear for trial, and were released from custody. Joseph and Hyrum, however, were rearrested, and, says Ford, were charged with overt treason, having ordered out the legion to resist the posse comitatus, though, as he states, the degree of their crime would depend on circumstances. The governor’s views on this matter are worthy of note. “The overt act of treason charged against them,” he remarks, “consisted in the alleged levying of war against the state by declaring martial law in Nauvoo, and in ordering out the legion to resist the posse comitatus. Their actual guiltiness of the charge would depend upon circumstances. If their opponents had been seeking to put the law in force in good faith, and nothing more, then an array of a military force in open resistance to the posse comitatus and the militia of the state most probably would have amounted to treason. But if those opponents merely intended to use the process of the law, the militia of the state, and the posse comitatus as cat’s-paws to compass the possession of their persons for the purpose of murdering them afterward, as the sequel demonstrated the fact to be, it might well be doubted whether they were guilty of treason.”
With the Nauvoo Legion at their back, the two brothers voluntarily placed themselves in the power of the governor who, demanding and accepting their surrender, though doubting their guilt, nevertheless declared that they were not his prisoners, but the prisoners of the constable and jailer. Leaving two companies to guard the jail, he disbanded the main body of his troops, and proceeding to Nauvoo, addressed the people, beseeching them to abide by the law. “They claimed,” he says, “to be a law-abiding people; and insisted that as they looked to the law alone for their protection, so were they careful themselves to observe its provisions. Upon the conclusion of my address, I proposed to take a vote on the question, whether they would strictly observe the laws, even in opposition to their prophet and leaders. The vote was unanimous in favor of this proposition.” The governor then set forth for Carthage, and such in substance is his report when viewed in the most favorable light.2
It is related that as Joseph set forth to deliver himself up to the authorities he exclaimed: “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offence toward God and toward all men. I shall die innocent, and it shall yet be said of me, He was murdered in cold blood.”3 Nevertheless, for a moment he hesitated. Should he offer himself a willing sacrifice, or should he endeavor to escape out of their hands? Thus meditating, he crossed the river thinking to depart. On reaching the opposite bank he turned and gazed upon the beautiful city, the holy city, his own hallowed creation, the city of Joseph, with its shining temple, its busy hum of industry, and its thousand happy homes. And they were his people who were there, his very own, given to him of God; and he loved them! Were he to leave them now, to abandon them in this time of danger, they would be indeed as sheep without a shepherd, stricken, and scattered, and robbed, and butchered by the destroyer. No, he could not do it. Better die than to abandon them thus! So he recrossed the river, saying to his brother Hyrum, “Come, let us go together, and let God determine what we shall do or suffer.”
Bidding their families and friends adieu, the two brothers set out for Carthage. Their hearts were very heavy. There was dire evil abroad; the air was oppressive, and the sun shot forth malignant rays. Once more they returned to their people; once more they embraced their wives and kissed their children, as if they knew, alas! that they should never see them again.
The party reached Carthage about midnight, and on the following day the troops were formed in line, and Joseph and Hyrum passed up and down in company with the governor, who showed them every respect—either as guests or victims—introducing them as military officers under the title of general. Present were the Carthage Greys, who showed signs of mutiny, hooting at and insulting the prisoners—for such in fact they were, being committed to jail the same afternoon until discharged by due course of law.
A few hours later Joseph asked to see the governor, and next morning Ford went to the prison. “All this is illegal,” said the former. “It is a purely civil matter, not a question to be settled by force of arms.” “I know it,” said the governor, “but it is better so; I did not call out this force, but found it assembled; I pledge you my honor, however, and the faith and honor of the state, that no harm shall come to you while undergoing this imprisonment.” The governor took his departure on the morning of the 27th of June. Scarcely was he well out of the way when measures were taken for the consummation of a most damning deed. The prison was guarded by eight men detailed from the Carthage Greys, their company being in camp on the public square a quarter of a mile distant, while another company under Williams, also the sworn enemies of the Mormons, was encamped eight miles away, there awaiting the development of events.
It was a little after five o’clock in the evening. Joseph and Hyrum Smith were confined in an upper room. With the prisoners were John Taylor and Willard Richards, other friends having withdrawn a few moments before. At this juncture a band of a hundred and fifty armed men with painted faces appeared before the jail, and presently surrounded it. The guard shouted vociferously and fired their guns over the heads of the assailants, who paid not the slightest attention to them.4 I give what followed from Burton’s City of the Saints, being the statement of President John Taylor, who was present and wounded on the occasion.
I was sitting at one of the front windows of the jail, when I saw a number of men, with painted faces, coming around the corner of the jail, and aiming toward the stairs. The other brethren had seen the same, for, as I went to the door, I found Brother Hyrum Smith and Dr Richards already leaning against it. They both pressed against the door with their shoulders to prevent its being opened, as the lock and latch were comparatively useless. While in this position, the mob, who had come up stairs, and tried to open the door, probably thought it was locked, and fired a ball through the keyhole; at this Dr Richards and Brother Hyrum leaped back from the door, with their faces toward it; almost instantly another ball passed through the panel of the door, and struck Brother Hyrum on the left side of the nose, entering his face and head. At the same instant, another ball from the outside entered his back, passing through his body and striking his watch. The ball came from the back, through the jail window, opposite the door, and must, from its range, have been fired from the Carthage Greys, who were placed there ostensibly for our protection, as the balls from the fire-arms, shot close by the jail, would have entered the ceiling, we being in the second story, and there never was a time after that when Hyrum could have received the latter wound. Immediately, when the balls struck him, he fell flat on his back, crying as he fell, “I am a dead man!” He never moved afterward.
I shall never forget the deep feeling of sympathy and regard manifested in the countenance of Brother Joseph as he drew nigh to Hyrum, and, leaning over him, exclaimed, “Oh! my poor, dear brother Hyrum!” He, however, instantly arose, and with a firm, quick step, and a determined expression of countenance, approached the door, and pulling the six-shooter left by Brother Wheelock from his pocket, opened the door slightly, and snapped the pistol six successive times; only three of the barrels, however, were discharged. I afterward understood that two or three were wounded by these discharges, two of whom, I am informed, died.5 I had in my hands a large, strong hickory stick, brought there by Brother Markham, and left by him, which I had seized as soon as I saw the mob approach; and while Brother Joseph was firing the pistol, I stood close behind him. As soon as he had discharged it he stepped back, and I immediately took his place next to the door, while he occupied the one I had done while he was shooting. Brother Richards, at this time, had a knotty walking-stick in his hands belonging to me, and stood next to Brother Joseph, a little farther from the door, in an oblique direction, apparently to avoid the rake of the fire from the door. The firing of Brother Joseph made our assailants pause for a moment; very soon after, however, they pushed the door some distance open, and protruded and discharged their guns into the room, when I parried them off with my stick, giving another direction to the balls.
It certainly was a terrible scene: streams of fire as thick as my arm passed by me as these men fired, and, unarmed as we were, it looked like certain death. I remember feeling as though my time had come, but I do not know when, in any critical position, I was more calm, unruffled, energetic, and acted with more promptness and decision. It certainly was far from pleasant to be so near the muzzles of those fire-arms as they belched forth their liquid flames and deadly balls. While I was engaged in parrying the guns, Brother Joseph said, “That’s right, Brother Taylor, parry them off as well as you can.” These were the last words I ever heard him speak on earth.
Every moment the crowd at the door became more dense, as they were unquestionably pressed on by those in the rear ascending the stairs, until the whole entrance at the door was literally crowded with muskets and rifles, which, with the swearing, shouting, and demoniacal expressions of those outside the door and on the stairs, and the firing of the guns, mingled with their horrid oaths and execrations, made it look like pandemonium let loose, and was, indeed, a fit representation of the horrid deed in which they were engaged.
After parrying the guns for some time, which now protruded thicker and farther into the room, and seeing no hope of escape or protection there, as we were now unarmed, it occurred to me that we might have some friends outside, and that there might be some chance to escape in that direction, but here there seemed to be none. As I expected them every moment to rush into the room—nothing but extreme cowardice having thus far kept them out—as the tumult and pressure increased, without any other hope, I made a spring for the window which was right in front of the jail door, where the mob was standing, and also exposed to the fire of the Carthage Greys, who were stationed some ten or twelve rods off. The weather was hot, we had our coats off, and the window was raised to admit air. As I reached the window, and was on the point of leaping out, I was struck by a ball from the door about midway of my thigh, which struck the bone and flattened out almost to the size of a quarter of a dollar, and then passed on through the fleshy part to within about half an inch of the outside. I think some prominent nerve must have been severed or injured, for, as soon as the ball struck me, I fell like a bird when shot, or an ox when struck by a butcher, and lost entirely and instantaneously all power of action or locomotion. I fell upon the window-sill, and cried out, “I am shot!” Not possessing any power to move, I felt myself falling outside of the window, but immediately I fell inside, from some, at that time, unknown cause. When I struck the floor my animation seemed restored, as I have seen it sometimes in squirrels and birds after being shot. As soon as I felt the power of motion I crawled under the bed, which was in a corner of the room, not far from the window where I received my wound. While on my way and under the bed I was wounded in three other places; one ball entered a little below the left knee, and never was extracted; another entered the forepart of my left arm, a little above the wrist, and passing down by the joint, lodged in the fleshy part of my hand, about midway, a little above the upper joint of my little finger; another struck me on the fleshy part of my left hip, and tore away the flesh as large as my hand, dashing the mangled fragments of flesh and blood against the wall.
It would seem that immediately after my attempt to leap out of the window, Joseph also did the same thing, of which circumstance I have no knowledge only from information. The first thing that I noticed was a cry that he had leaped out of the window. A cessation of firing followed, the mob rushed down stairs, and Dr. Richards went to the window. Immediately afterward I saw the doctor going toward the jail door, and as there was an iron door at the head of the stairs adjoining our door which led into the cells for criminals, it struck me that the doctor was going in there, and I said to him, “Stop, doctor, and take me along.” He proceeded to the door and opened it, and then returned and dragged me along to a small cell prepared for criminals.
Brother Richards was very much troubled, and exclaimed, “Oh! Brother Taylor, is it possible that they have killed both Brothers Hyrum and Joseph? It cannot surely be, and yet I saw them shoot them;” and, elevating his hands two or three times, he exclaimed, “Oh Lord, my God, spare thy servants!” He then said, “Brother Taylor, this is a terrible event;” and he dragged me farther into the cell, saying, “I am sorry I can not do better for you;” and, taking an old filthy mattress, he covered me with it, and said, “That may hide you, and you may yet live to tell the tale, but I expect they will kill me in a few moments.” While lying in this position I suffered the most excruciating pain. Soon afterward Dr. Richards came to me, informed me that the mob had precipitately fled, and at the same time confirmed my worst fears that Joseph was assuredly dead. It appears that Joseph, thus murderously beset and in dire extremity, rushed to the window and threw himself out, receiving in the act several shots, and with the cry, “O Lord, my God!” fell dead to the ground.6 The fiends were not yet satiated; but setting up the lifeless body of the slain prophet against the well-curb, riddled it with bullets.7
Further reading:
- Joseph Smith’s Death.
- Joseph Smith’s Death (excerpt from History of the Church, vol. 6, chps. 33, 34).
Illustration from Mormonism Unveiled; Or the Life and Confessions of the Late Mormon Bishop, John D. Lee, (St. Louis: Bryan Brand & Co.), 1877
Photos of Carthage Jail
Carthage Jail, 1855
(From The Fate of the Persecutors of the Prophet Joseph Smith
by N. B. Lundwall, 1952, p. 166. Color added.)
Views of Carthage Jail
Hubert Howe Bancroft
Footnotes:
- Report, ut supra, 10-11. In Times and Seasons, v. 560, it is stated that “on Monday, June 24th, after Ford had sent word that eighteen persons demanded on a warrant, among whom were Joseph Smith and Hyrum Smith, should be protected by the militia of the state, they in company with ten or twelve others start for Carthage.” ↩︎
- Message, ut supra. The above appear to be the facts of the case, so far as they can be sifted from a lengthy report, which consists mainly of apology or explanation of what the governor did or left undone. ↩︎
- Smith’s Doc. and Cov. [Doctrine and Covenants], app. [135]. The same morning he read in the [twelfth] chapter of Ether, “And it came to pass that I prayed unto the Lord that he would give unto the gentiles grace, that they might have charity. And it came to pass that the Lord said unto me, If they have not charity it mattereth not unto you, thou hast been faithful; wherefore thy garments are clean. And because thou hast seen thy weakness, thou shalt be made strong, even unto the sitting down in the place which I have prepared in the mansions of my father.” ↩︎
- Littlefield says the Carthage Greys were marched in a body, “within about eight rods of the jail, where they halted, in plain view of the whole transaction, until the deed was executed.” Narrative, 9. ↩︎
- “He wounded three of them, two mortally, one of whom, as he rushed down out of the door, was asked if he was badly hurt. He replied, ‘Yes; my arm is shot all to pieces by old Joe; but I don’t care, I’ve got revenge; and I shot Hyrum!’” Id., 11. ↩︎
- Joseph dropped his pistol, and sprang into the window; but just as he was preparing to descend, he saw such an array of bayonets below, that he caught by the window casing, where he hung by his hands and feet, with his head to the north, feet to the south, and his body swinging downward. He hung in that position three or four minutes, during which time he exclaimed two or three times, “O Lord, my God!” and fell to the ground. While he was hanging in that situation, Col. Williams halloed, “Shoot him! God damn him! shoot the damned rascal!” However, none fired at him. He seemed to fall easy. He struck partly on his right shoulder and back, his neck and head reaching the ground a little before his feet. He rolled instantly on his face. From this position he was taken by a young man who sprung to him from the other side of the fence, who held a pewter fife in his hand, was barefooted and bareheaded, having on no coat, with his pants rolled above his knees, and shirt-sleeves above his elbows. He set President Smith against the south side of the well-curb that was situated a few feet from the jail. While doing this the savage muttered aloud, “This is old Jo; I know him. I know you, old Jo. Damn you; you are the man that had my daddy shot”—intimating that he was a son of Boggs, and that it was the Missourians who were doing this murder. Littlefield’s Narrative, 13. ↩︎
- After President Taylor’s account in Burton’s City of the Saints, the best authorities on this catastrophe are: Assassination of Joseph and Hyrum Smith, the Prophet and the Patriarch of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; also a Condensed History of the Expulsion of the Saints from Nauvoo, by Elder John S. Fullmer (of Utah, U.S.A.), Pastor of the Manchester, Liverpool, and Preston Conferences. Liverpool and London, 1855; Message of the Governor of the State of Illinois, in relation to the disturbances in Hancock County, December 23, 1844. Springfield, 1844; Awful assassination of Joseph and Hyrum Smith; the pledged faith of the State of Illinois stained with innocent blood by a mob, in Times and Seasons, v. 560-75; A Narrative of the Massacre of Joseph and Hyrum Smith by an Outsider and an Eye-witness, in Utah Tracts, i.; and The Martyrdom of Joseph Smith, by Apostle John Taylor, a copy of which is contained in Burton’s City of the Saints, 625-67. Brief accounts will be found in Utah Pamphlets, 23; Lee’s Mormonism, 152-5; Remy’s Jour. to G. S. L. City, 388-96; Hall’s Mormonism Exposed, 15-16; Green’s Mormonism, 36-7; Tullidge’s Women, 297-300; Olshausen, Gesch. der Mor., 100-3; Tucker’s Mormonism, 189-92; Mackay’s The Mormons, 169-72; Smucker’s Hist. Mor., 177-9; Ferris’ Utah and Mormons, 120-5, and in other works on Mormonism. In the Atlantic Monthly for Dec. 1869 is an article entitled “The Mormon Prophet’s Tragedy,” which, however justly it may lay claim to Boston ‘smart’ writing, so far as the facts are concerned is simply a tissue of falsehoods. ↩︎