I was standing just behind the line of soldiers jostling
up with the crowd, and I heard the Governor say, 'I pledge you my
honour, and the faith and honour of this State, that no harm shall come
to you while undergoing this imprisonment.' So then they were shut in;
but the crowd and the soldiers remained in the streets, and I heard
enough to know that harm would come.

"The next morning the Governor went away from Carthage, to be out of it,
and that day, in the afternoon, a mob of men with faces painted like
Indians came out with guns, and we knew that their purpose was to murder
the prophet. I went to the gaol and sat upon the steps, and the militia,
which was called the Carthage Greys, came out, and halted, about eight
rods from the gaol, and I thought at first that they would fire on the
mob when they came, but they never moved, but stood and looked on. So
the murder was done by them all in cold blood as well as by the mob."

"Did you see him die?" asked Susannah with white lips.

"If he was a relation of yours, ma'am, I can tell you that he died like
a man. First I thought that I would spend what little strength I had
left in fighting the mob at the door, and that they should not go in
except over my body; but the gaoler opened the door in pretence of
finding out what was the matter, for he was in the plot; so I thought
that I would run up and give warning. But by the time I got to the door
of the upper room where the prophet was, the mob was up behind me, so I
never rightly knew what I did, for they knocked me down just within the
room. There were four or five men with the prophet and Mr. Hyrum, and
these kept the mob back for a few minutes at the door, but a bullet hit
Mr. Hyrum in the head, and I saw the prophet leaning over him, and he
said in a voice that was very sad, 'My dear, dear brother!'

"Then the prophet stood up quite calmly and pulled out a pistol and shot
at the mob until all its barrels were discharged. His firing made the
men hold back, for a good number of the mob were struck. Then they came
on again until the door was literally full with muskets and rifles, but
I was lying on the floor below the shots, so I saw them pass over my
head. The very walls were riddled with them, and the prophet stood in
the midst of the shots and threw up his hands towards heaven and cried,
'O Lord, my God.' Then, not knowing what he did, he staggered to the
window, dying from his wounds, and he fell outside the wind