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Brigham's Destroying Angel

Chapter VI conclusion

     The poor fellows, some thirteen of them, were sentenced to the penitentiary from two to fifteen years. Their friends got up a petition for their release, and most of the Gentiles signed it, but very few Mormons attached their names. The Governor asked me if I was going to sign it. I told him I was. He then asked me if I was not afraid of Brigham Young, knowing it was in opposition to his counsel to have any Mormon sign it. I told him no; that “Brigham Young was as afraid of me as I was of him,” meaning that we were not afraid of each other. But he has told and published it in the light that Brigham Young was more afraid of me than I was of him. But be this as it may, I would have signed it in the face of all the Brigham Youngs this side of Europe, regardless of all consequences.

     Shortly after this, General Connor sent for me-asked me a great many questions about the country, and the mountains, roads, rivers, &c., &c. After getting through, he told me he wanted to hire me as a guide, and might have other business for me to do; that I could stay at home when I was not wanted, but when wanted, would have to furnish my own horse, and be on hand. He wanted me to pilot him to Snake River to see the Indians there, see the country, and go from there to Soda Springs, on Bear River, and locate a military camp for the protection of the emigration. He also wanted to catch a small band of Indians that had been killing the emigrants, that he did not get the winter before.

     In the spring he, with two companions of cavalry, set out for Snake River, while one company of infantry with supplies, started to Soda Springs, at which place the General told them he would meet them. I went as guide.

     The General got to Snake River, found a good many Indians, and had a talk with them, and they promised to be good: and so they will—when they are dead. They gathered by request that night, and had a big dance. The General sent me with a lieutenant and twenty-five men up the Snake River fifty miles, and to strike from there south, to Soda Springs, where I was to meet him. I was to look out for a wagon road, as it would shorten the route fifty miles to the Montana mines, where most of the travel was going that summer, He found a good place on Snake River for a ferry, and then started across the mountains seventy miles without a trail, for Soda Springs. We met a party sent out to escort us in, but we would not have missed the Springs a mile. Then the General sent me with a party down Bear River on the north side, with a lieutenant and a party down the other side to look out the practicability of a wagon road down the river. When we returned, the company of infantry had arrived, and the General had located a military post. I continued in the business of guide, and in the fall following piloted the General to Goosecreek Mountain, some 300 miles northwest of Salt Lake City, and from there to Soda Springs eastward, where he had the spring before stationed a company of troops. He paid off those troops that were there, and sent me with Lieutenant Finnerty to the Snake River ferry to pay off a posse of troops, which had been kept there during the summer, for the protection of the ferry and emigration.

     We returned, after having paid off the soldiers, to Soda Springs, and started for home on a tremendous cold day. Had a canteen of whisky which we hung up on a bush when we camped. The next morning was as cold as blazes. The lieutenant proposed taking a drink; but no sooner had he filled his mouth than he spat it, in the fire, declaring there was sand in it, and said he would give the Commissary hell for putting sand in whisky for him. He poured some in a cup and found it had small particles of ice all through it, which the Lieutenant had mistaken for sand.

     General Connor asked me about mines, and said he knew it was not the wish of Brigham Young to have mines opened in this country. He asked me also if I had any scruples about it, on account of what Brigham Young had said—I told him I had not, and afterwards brought him a good piece of Galena ore from Bingham Cañon, which was the start of mining in Utah. Leads were located, work down, and prospecting by different parties continued, many laboring under great disadvantages; but it has continued until now, showing one of the greatest mineral countries in the world. I have located and helped others who have made nice sums of money; but many instances have been neglected, and after putting parties in possession of good leads, with the promise of having a show with them, have had my name scratched off the books, or the lead re-located. Miners, as a general thing. are honest and punctual men; but like all other classes of men have unprincipled dogs among them

     A goodly number of Gen. Conner’s men being Californians and miners, were, when they had nothing else to do, by permission, prospecting the country for precious metals. They made many good discoveries, and organized districts. They located leads in Stockton, the Cottenwoods, Bingham Cañon, East Cañon, and other places; and it can truly be said of the General that he was not only a good general, subduing the hostile Indians, and maintaining his dignity as a commander of the Utah district amidst many brawling outrages of the people of Utah, but was the main developer of the Utah mines against all opposition of the principal men. He in this, like all other business, took his own course quietly along, regarding them as a big dog would the barking of fists, or a locomotive the buzzing of flies.

     And here I will state that just before this I had my last break with Brigham Young. In the spring or early summer of 1863 I went in town, and Brigham Young sent for me. When I got to his place he said “That Gen. Conner is nothing but an Irish ditcher, and don’t belong in this country, and you are the man to get him out of it.” After some more talk he said: “If I would kidnap Connor and set him over into California, he would attend to the help and give me one thousand dollars, and all expenses paid.” I laughed at this, and made no reply. Nobody knew then how I stood, and I did not know how they looked on me. Six months after that Brigham Young repeated his previous conversation with me, and said Connor was a bad man, calculated to do a great deal of injury to this people, and ought to be used up. “Now,” said he, “you are the man to do it; you travel with him as pilot and guide, and you could easily do it, and it could be laid to the Indians. You can have an great deal more money than if you had kidnapped him and taken him to California.” Then I spoke up Brigham Young for the first time in my life, and said I would not do it; that General Conner was a good man, and the best officer ever in Utah, and I knew him to be an honorable man; “and what is more,” said I, “it shan’t be done; I will see to that myself. I will look out for that.” I was rash and stirred up, and spoke sharp, which had not been the way with us in talking to Brigham Young.

     The second winter I was in the General’s company he told me he had lost twelve head of mules from the Government reserve in Rush Valley, and wanted me to hunt them up, as I had done before when animals were lost or stolen. I searched several days, but no trace of them. I returned and made my report to him. He sent me again, saying to me, if any man could find them I could, and wished me spare no pains in hunting. He said I might resort to any stratagem I could, and he would back me up. I was satisfied in my mind who had stolen them, and employed men to assist who I knew they would not mistrust. I soon found where the mules were, and in learning this I soon found out that the same company had been committing burglaries for several months past, and then had in their possession several thousand dollars worth of stolen goods. I reported to the General. He sent and got the mules. I made known to the Captain of the Police in the city what I had found out about the burglaries, and who had committed them, and where the stolen goods were. He raised a posse of the sheriff, policemen, and others, and I accompanied them. We found the goods, arrested the men, and took all to the city. I went home supposing I had done a good deed and would get the reward that was offered for them - three hundred dollars by one man, and two hundred by another. But what did I find when I went to town a few days after? I found the reward-money drawn by their confederates, the police, and a writ in their hands for my arrest, made out on complaint of these burglars with whom the goods were found. I was arrested late in the afternoon, and took a good man with me to go my bail, who swore he was worth thirty thousand, liable to execution. The Probate Judge said it was not sufficient, and I would have to get another worth as much inside of an hour or go to the cells.

     Now, this dirty old villain knew I was innocent, but he was a confederate with this well-known clan, the so-called city officials, sheriff, and policemen. A blacker set of scamps I never knew. I got another man who swore he was worth one hundred thousand dollars, liable to execution. I then was reluctantly let go after giving one hundred and thirty thousand dollars bail. This may seem strange, but when you see their motives it will be plain. I was in the Government employ, stood fair with both city and military officials, and all hands had set to break me up, stigmatize, and even kill me for taking the course I did in rendering Government official help.

Pulpit Rock, mouth of Echo Cañon, where Brigham Young preached his first
sermon in Utah, and where Yates was murdered by Hickman.

     I had a long trial; but finally got out. They became alarmed, and after I had been in court five days I told the prosecuting attorney that I would give him just one hour to enter a enolic prosequi in my case, and write the facts about it, and give it to me to be published in the next day’s paper, or I would use up his thieving one-horse court with all its thieving officers. The consequences were my request was fully granted, in ample time. These villains from that time to this have sought my life. But I must tell you what they did with their chummies, the burglars; they let them go on promise of some time paying two hundred dollars apiece. It was only a few days after this they were caught in a cellar in the city. The officers having no one to lay their crime upon, they were sent to the penitentiary for three years each, not having done anything only being caught in a cellar where goods were stored away. But when caught with several thousand dollars’ worth of stolen goods in their possession, they were released without punishment. This was no uncommon thing for parties who were guilty of great crimes to go unpunished, while those of minor offences were given heavy sentences. This court was a gang that cut and dried many of their cases in the “counsel” before they would come into court, and then carry out their spite upon whom they pleased.

      About this time they caught me on a bail bond for two hundred dollars and costs. I had gone bail for the appearance of an man that I knew was not guilty of the charge against him; but when going to Montana, in ’62, I delivered him up to the court. They let him loose for some time without any recognizance, and he finally went to California. This old bond, which I had neglected taking up when I delivered up the prisoner, was sued on, after only four years with not a word said about it. But this was the day of vengeance on me, and this corrupt court had all power, and made me pay it with costs, saying, “If he does get money out of the Government, we will try and ease him of all we can.”

     I had a good stock of cattle—near two hundred head—when I went into the employ of Gen. Conner. I did not dispose of twenty head, and yet, when the war ended and Conner went out of office, I did not have twenty. My friends, or those who should have been my friends, had the good of them. I have been told by good honest people, that they heard their bishop say it was no harm to kill and eat my cattle.

     When the cattle were used up, then they commenced on my horses, and in two years I lost about three thousand dollars’ worth; and to show that it was all aimed for me, the last raid that was made I had five horses in the portion of the band that was stolen, that I had bought and had not put my brand on them, and they were all turned out of the band, and I found them some thirty miles from home. The balance were run into Nevada; but I did not hear this until it was too late to find them.

     Well, what next? I was one of those men who had a plurality of wives, and had children by them all. I had as quiet a family as any one I ever saw of that kind, and what I had done in that matter I had done in all good faith. I had not violated the Congressional law of ’62 prohibiting polygamy. Neither did I ever expect to, ’58 being the last year I had taken a wife. I felt under obligations to take care of my wives and children; but, to use their own language about me they seemed determined to use me up. The Bishop and others would say to my wives that I was a bad man, and commenced persuading them to leave me; and they would see that they took their children with them, and I should give them all they would ask. They soon got things going, but never had the pleasure of making me give them a dollar; for I told them to help themselves and take all they wanted. I many times would ask them what I had done, and what was wanted of me? Their reply was, “Oh! you have been with the Gentiles and their dirty Government officers and have betrayed us; it is you that has put Gen. Connor in possession of all the news that has gone to Washington about the Mormons.” I would tell them that I had not, and even went so far as to have the General say he had never heard me say anything about the Mormons that would be criminal; but all this seemed to do no good whatever.

     About this time, one of Joseph Smith’s sons, from Illinois, came to Utah and preached several times, always raking Brigham Young for his misconduct and digression from the principles of Mormonism. The general feeling was very bitter against him. I went to see him, as I told him, out of respect to his father, and we had a general social chat. This was enough: what I had not done before, I had done now, and I was in for what was called “Josephism,” and that was enough to damn anybody. I saw I could do nothing in this country, and concluded to leave. I sold my place, farming utensils, &c., prepared my wagons, and got teams ready to start. I was abused by every low dog that came along, for being an apostate. I tried to argue with some about the necessity of my going away under the circumstances, but it was of no use. A great many said they did not blame me, would go too, if they were treated as I had been. About the time I was ready to start, I got word from my friends that there was no use of my trying to get out of the Territory with my family and stock, for they were watching the roads, by order of Brigham Young, and I would be certain to be killed.

     Then I did not know what to do. I concluded 1 would go and see Brigham Young. I told him how I was treated, as I had before done. He made very strange of it. He wanted to know by whom. I told him the names of some of them; upon which he sent R. T. Burton, the sheriff, to make inquiry. Of course he knew nothing, he being Brigham’s dirty jobber, as he had been for eight or ten years. Brigham Young promised to have things looked to; but when I told him men had been prowling around my house several nights with guns and pistols in hand, he gave me strict orders not to shoot any of them. I begged him to give me the privilege of defending myself; but he said, “You must not hurt anyone,” the reason being, they were some of his men, and he knew it. He professed great ignorance; but I knew no such raids dare be made without his orders. I talked to him some time, watching him closely, and finally came to the conclusion that he would call off his dogs, or rather his murderers, and let me alone.

     I went home and all was quiet, even those whom I had seen watching my home came around and were very friendly. I still wanted to leave, but seeing the situation of my family—that I would have to leave my children in the hands of those I abhorred, I concluded to round up and live in this country, and see my children raised—hoping and praying that the day would come when I, with my children, could have our rights in this country, and do business for the Government, and be the friend of the Government officers, without losing all of our property, and then have a gang of murderers and robbers always seeking our destruction.

     About this time the Sweet-water mines were discovered, and I, in company with others, went to see them, it being in the same portion of the country I had prospected in 1855. I heard when I left home that a company of men followed me, learning I was going to leave the country. I staid at the mines about a week, the last day I was there in company with one man, I went some ten miles off prospecting, saw Indian signs, and two Indians hiding behind the rocks. We did not go near them, believing they intended hostilities, but kept a good lookout, leaving that place and taking a circuitous route for camp. After we had gone two or three miles we saw about a dozen Indians trying to get around ahead of us, but both being on the best of animals, we soon got out of all danger. I told at camp what I had seen, and that there would be trouble, but would get few to believe it. I then told them I had only a day or two longer to stay, There was then about one hundred and fifty men camped in squads up and down the creek, but no organization was gone into. The next morning I, in company with ten others, left for Salt Lake. The next morning the Indians made a raid on their camp, killed three men, and ran off near a hundred head of horses and mules, over half they had. We were overtaken by some of the fleeing party before we got to Green River, a distance of sixty-nine miles.

     I returned home, and thought I would get some cheap place, and do the best I could until things would have a change. I bought a small ranching place at the mouth of Bingham Cañon, moved my family and stock there, built a good corral, and commenced to improve. I bought seventy-five head of Spanish horses, and intended to do ranching and stock-raising business. But to my sorrow, I soon saw that I was again watched; men were prowling around day and night, some of Brigham’s jobbers. I understood it, knowing his motions so well. I commenced laying out in the brush. I saw two men go into the tent where I was in the habit of sleeping. They had a pistol in each of their hands. This was what I expected, and feared being shot in bed. Two nights after I saw two men go in the tent again, and two stood outside with guns in their hands. I concluded that there was no use for me to try to live here any longer. The day following I saw one of the party, a man to whom I had done several favors, and I rounded him up and demanded of him what was the cause of this. He agreed to tell me all provided I would not expose him. He said it was not believed I intended to stay in the Territory, and that I was confederate with the United States Judge and Marshal, and was assisting them to knowledge against the Mormons in the murder of Doc. Robinson and others; but if I would go and buy a good farm, and sell off some of those wagons and horses, and make a full showing that I intended staying here, would be let alone. I would have done this for the sake of seeing my children raised; but seeing there was no truth or honor in Brigham Young, and his promise amounted to nothing, there was but one show left for me, and that was to get away quick, and not be overtaken.

     The night before I left, one of my boys, being out, was chased by this same gang, thinking, I suppose, it was me. Now those watching me were men with whom I had never had any difficulty; but were of that kind that would kill father or son at the bidding of Brigham Young. This may seem strange, but there are plenty such in this country, that believe they would be doing God’s service to obey, if Brigham told them to kill their own son, or the son to kill the father. For two reasons: One for obeying the great command of Brigham, and having nerve enough to do the deed; another, that the man had done something that his blood should be shed to atone for his sins, and it thereby would be the means of salvation to the murdered man, and honor, and a promise of greater exaltation in the world to come to the slayer. But let me here say that this is all Brigham Young’s doctrine; I never heard of any such thing until I had been here several years. Those doctrines of shedding a man’s blood to save him,* Adam being God, and several other abominable things of like character, have originated solely from Brigham; obedience to the requirements of the Gospel, as set forth, taught, and understood heretofore by the Mormons, have almost entirely been set aside, and the general teaching is, and has been, to obey Brigham Young’s counsel and that of his bishop. Many is the time that at public meetings the people have been taught that the Bible, Testament, and other books of the former Mormon faith were of no use; that those things were good enough in the time of them; but now we had the living oracles with us, and that all divine record was of no more use to us than an old newspaper. Brother Brigham was our Saviour, and would lead us to Heaven; he held the power of salvation for all in his own hands, and had his officers, who administered, such as bishops, etc. The great and all-important teaching to the people is: Obey your bishops, and pay your tithings, and you are sure of being saved. This may seem strange to those who have never heard of such things before; but I assure you there are hundreds in this Territory who are sanguine in this belief even now—and as for Mormonism, there is no such thing in this country; it is all Brighamism, and should be called so.
(*See Appendix-L.)

     The morning before I left two of those dogs were at my place, very inquisitive about what I was going to do. I told them I was going to conference, and expected to attend every day. This seemed to ease them, and they left. I had also learned that the roads were watched in case I made an attempt to get away. I mounted one of my best horses, and, with a few days’ provisions in my saddle-pockets, struck across the mountain west, and did not strike a road for 150 miles. Meanwhile, these special friends called every day to know where I was. The answer was, that I was out hunting my stock; but they smelt the rat, and three men were after me, but were too late. I was not seen on the road until I got to Deep Creek, nearly two hundred miles west, at which place I stayed one night, telling them my business was two hundred miles further, to Austin, to search for some animals that were stolen the spring before. This place was six miles off the line between Utah and Nevada. I knew I was ahead of all the time they could make after me, even if they intended following me; so I took things easy from there to Austin. When I got there I found plenty of acquaintances and friends - the Marshal of the city, Hank Ney, and Benjamin Sanburn, the Sheriff, together with the mail agent, Len. Wines, whom I had known from a boy, Chancy Stebbins, and others. I was kindly received and well treated; had an introduction to most of the principal men of the city. I found in the city one mule I had previously lost; had him replevied, and, according to the best information that could be gotten, he, in company with some five or six head of other animals, were brought there by a Salt Laker. After I had been there about two weeks, a man came in town and told me I had been followed to Deep Creek by three policemen; but I had been gone five days when they got there, and they wished him, if he saw me anywhere, to telegraph to them to Salt Lake City. He asked then what charges they had against me, and they told him (he being a Gentile) that I had killed a Gentile close to the city some months before, and that was why they were after me. He told me he knew they were lying, for he had been there himself, and nothing of the kind had occurred. He said they swore if they caught me they would kill me without saying a word to me. They were beaten; and the dirty dog, who is one of Brigham Young’s blood-shedders, Sam Bateman, who was in charge of the party who were watching me, made great lamentation, saying he had lost three weeks watching me. and I had got away at last, and would bring great trouble on Brother Brigham.

     I got letters from home, in which I was advised to not come back until things took a change. I then concluded to go to California and spend a month or two. I went to San Francisco, found my old and true friend, Gen. Connor, and many other acquaintances; had an introduction to the Governor, and a great many others, and had a good sociable time. I told the General what situation I was in, and got a statement from him, with the signature to it, that I had never at any time made any disclosures to him on Brigham Young, which I sent home.* I then went over the mountain, back into Carson Valley, where ray old partner lived that I had mined with in California in ’51-’52. I got letters from home saving things had quieted down, and Brigham Young told my son to write for me to came home. But I had made up my mind never to return again, and intended to take shipping from San Francisco to New York, and from there take the cars to Western Missouri, and send for my family.
(*See Appendix-M.)

     But just at the time I got ready to start I was taken with typhoid fever; it fell into my lame thigh, and it swelled up as big as a common flour sack. I suffered all that a man could suffer and live. I was reduced to skin and bones, lying on my back for four months, run off from my family, amongst strangers and just alive, for no cause whatever, only the fears of my making statements of Brigham Young’s course in Utah. I cannot express my sufferings of both body and mind. Night after night I would lie, scarcely able to turn over, no one to speak to; and was given up to die by every one who saw me for weeks. Language would fail me to begin to tell my feelings. I was innocent of crime, only the obeying of Brigham Young’s orders, and would sometimes say, O my God, may the day come when his unjust reign shall have an end!

WASH-A-KIE, Peace Chief of the Shoshone Indians
See Page 105.

     Finally some of my old acquaintances, Mormon apostates, whom I had befriended while in Utah, came to my assistance, and took care of me until I got able to help myself. My old mining partner being a bachelor, and about that time taken sick himself, I had to stay with those whom I had never seen. Notwithstanding all this, I continued to take the part of Brigham Young in all conversations, with the exception of talks to a few confidential friends. I was down-hearted and disconsolate. and did not much care what became of me. I concluded to return home and take chances again. I went to Virginia City to take the stage for home, and there found Gov. Durkee—then Governor of Utah—who had been to California, and was on his way home. We procured the same seat in the coach, and had a general chat on Utah affairs. He seemed to know all about my situation, and advised me to take care of myself. He said if it was in his power, such a course of things as was going on in Utah should be stopped; but as he was unable to do anything, he would try and serve out his time quietly, and then leave the Territory.

     On reaching home, after resting a few days, which I very much needed, being weak and going on crutches, I, with my wife, went to see Brigham Young. He seemed to express great sorrow for me, made inquiry of the cause of my leaving, and, on my telling him how things had stood, he said I should have come to him. I told him I though I had said enough to him, and it all seemed to amount to nothing. We went to our home where my family had been moved to; some forty-five miles south of Salt Lake City, where they had purchased some houses and lots, and were in a tolerably comfortable situation.

     I then commenced looking after my scattered family. I had left three wives at home, besides my first, all living in as much peace as any family of the kind. I found one married to a black Spaniard. This woman had four children, the oldest being a daughter of eleven years. Another wife was just ready to marry, which she did in a few days after I got home. This was all right, as I had, after leaving the fall before, been disfellowshiped from the church. I was then left with two wives—the first and the last—the last having two boys, one six years old and the other four. I was disfellowshiped without any charge being preferred against me, and on inquiry learned it was for going away without permission.

      I went to mining. and attended to what stock I had left. I did not find half of I had left at home when I started away. I soon heard rumors of trouble on me. I went to see Brigham Young, and wanted to know what charges were against me. I found that the same old thing was up again. I was accused of telling Gen. Connor all I knew, and that the evidence had gone to Washington, and had come out in pamphlet form, and I was the cause of all of it. I reminded him of the letter I had sent him with the General’s signature to it. He denied ever seeing such a certificate, and I told him to wait until I could write to San Francisco, and I would have another. I wrote a letter to the General, read it to him, and gave it to one of his clerks to put into the post office. I soon got a answer, with the same statements in it that were in the one I had got before. I took it to him; he read it, and says: “Well, may be so.” I asked him if there were any other charges against me. He said yes, I had been intimate with the Smith boys, Joseph’s sons, of whom I have spoken. I told him I only went to see them out of respect to their father, and never had a private chat with them. This he was not disposed to believe. I went and brought John Smith, cousin to them, who is one of Brigham Young's officials, and had him state that nothing outside of a common conversation took place between us. I asked what more was against me, and he said he did not know. I asked him why I was disfellowshiped. He seemed beat, and was mad, and said, “If it was not right to have done it, it would not have been done,” and got up and left. I have not spoken to him but twice since, both times on business. He wanted to know the last I saw him if I was going to join the Church again. I told him I had for three years tried to find out what was against me, and could not; consequently, I expected to remain as I was. He said he would give me a recommendation to the bishop, and wanted me to be baptized again. I told him that would be an admission of guilt which he and all others had failed to show. “Well, well,” says he, “I will fix all that.” This was the last of it. I have not seen or spoken to him since. I have no desire to belong to his Church, but would have accepted a re-union for the purpose of having more peace and a better show to do business and raise my children.

     Bryant Stringham, the man who took care of what was called church stock, hired me to gather up what stock they had in Cedar Valley, the valley in which I lived. Stringham was a good, honest man, whom I had been acquainted with for more than twenty years. I went at it, got up his wild horses, and traded them off for cattle, and some I sold for money, doing as he had ordered, not charging half as much as others did, thinking when Brigham Young heard it he would be pleased. But to the reverse; he gave Stringham a blowing up, and made him go and advertise that I was not a church agent to gather up stock. Stringham settled with me, like a gentleman; but I could do no business that Brigham Young could prevent. This is only one of several things he hindered me in.