Unable to restrain their curiosity and impatient with waiting, the girls did not obey, but climbed out to do some exploring themselves.What they discovered sent them back to the wagon in terror, and the husbands returned to find them trembling and crying. The men who plotted and executed the massacre were not only members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but the prominent conspirators were local priesthood leaders. Haight was the mayor and stake president of Cedar City.
At the close of the massacre there was 18 children still alive, one girl, some ten or twelve years old they said was to big and could tell so they killed her, leaving 17. No, Lee, says the man, I know you, I recognise you [even] if you are painted[,] and you know the penalty of shedding innocent blood.
If you kill me you kill my child, I will part with the last drop of blood there is in my body before I give up my child.
I have personally studied the words of latter-day prophets for hours a day on average since I was about 12 years old. On September 11, 1857, over fifty men mercilessly slaughtered 120 men, women and children in what would become known as the Mountain Meadows Massacre. It was a crime for which there can be no apology or excuse, a thing treacherous and damnable in the extreme.
I have a great respect for the inspiration that has come from inspired leaders through the years. ” On a hot June day in Mesquite, Nevada, an old man lay dying. Tortured by memories of events “his eyes had witnessed but his tongue had never uttered”; his dying cries were “BLOOD! After cowardly luring the Baker–Fancher emigrant company from their defense with false promises of a truce, the assailants (primarily consisting of Mormons in good standing) massacred all but seventeen children deemed too young to expose the murderers. Thus did President Joseph Fielding Smith, Church Historian and later 10th President of the Church, describe the infamous tragedy that would come to be known as the “Mountain Meadows Massacre”. On September 5, 1857, the emigrants were ambushed by a band of Mormon militia and Paiute Indians.
Sarah Frances Baker remembered sitting on her wounded father George’s lap in one of the wagons when the same bullet that snuffed out his life took a nick out of her left ear. “But even when you’re that young,” she maintained more than eighty years later, “you don’t forget the horror of having your father gasp for breath and grow limp, while you have your arms around his neck, screaming with terror.” She recalled “the blood-curdling war-whoops,” “the banging of guns,” and “the screaming of the other children and the agonized shrieks of women” being killed. I saw them shoot the girl after we were gathered up.