Silas Smith and Mountain Meadows

Silas Sanford Smith

I recently discovered that an ancestor, Silas S. Smith, was a valuable witness to the occurrences leading up to the Mountain Meadows massacre:

Know George A. Smith; saw him in August of 1857 at Parowan and traveled with him through the southern settlements, returning with him to Cedar Springs, Millard County. George A. Smith, in his speeches, referred to the necessity of saving grain and not feeding it to horses or stock; he disapproved of selling it for any such use. Heard nothing said to discourage the sale of provisions to emigrant trains for food. Witness camped at Corn Creek and found the Arkansas train in camp there on arrival. Some of them came over to witness’ fire and simply made inquiries. Nothing special was said. One of the party asked if the Indians would be likely to eat the flesh of an ox that lay dead near camp. Some said that they probably would.

Two days after, came to Beaver, passing the emigrants at Indian Creek, six or seven miles from here. Took supper with the emigrants there. Four days after this the emigrants passed through the town where witness lives, thirty miles south, and camped there. Spoke to some of the party; saw the leader; heard him called Mr. Fancher. Duke’s party followed several days after. They got into trouble with the Indians near Beaver and witness was sent over with ten men by Col. Dame, who called at his house to request witness to go to the relief of the emigrants. Reached Beaver at night, and in the morning found the train corraled and a rifle pit dug for their protection. Sent a runner, who brought in the chief, and witness placated the wrath of the red men by a liberal distribution of beef. The Indians claimed that some of their braves had been shot by men belonging to the train, and they must wash out the offense in blood. Witness understood that his intervention had settled the difficulty. Had no further connection with the emigrant trains.

Traveled with George A. Smith from Parowan to Santa Clara, I50 miles. Held five or six meetings on the way. George A. Smith invited witness to accompany him. The object of his visit was to preach to the people to lay up grain for their future support. Col. Johnston’s army was then approaching Utah. Heard nothing said against allowing emigrant trains to pass through the country.

It’s amazing how connected my ancestor was to this sad incident. Since I don’t have all the right words to say how I feel about this, I’ll quote the feelings of Elder Dallin H. Oaks from his interview with Helen Whitney for the PBS documentary The Mormons:

As a fourth- or fifth-generation Mormon growing up in Utah—but not in the area where the Mountain Meadow Massacre happened—I have learned about that tragic episode, and my heart has gone out to the descendants of those who perpetrated that atrocity and to the relatives of those who suffered it. I can only imagine the kind of pain that comes from contemplating the involvement of those that you love in such a tragic episode in the history of the West, so unexplainable. I have no doubt on the basis of what I have studied and learned that Mormons were prime movers in that terrible episode and participated in killing. What a terrible thing to contemplate, that the barbarity of the frontier and the conditions of the Utah War, whatever provocations were perceived to have been given, would have led to such an extreme episode, such an extreme atrocity perpetrated by members of my faith. I pray that the Lord will comfort those that are still grieved by it and I pray that He can find a way to forgive those who took such a terrible action against human beings.

Lost Luggage and a Link to the Past

We recently returned from a trip to Europe so I could meet some of my colleagues in Paris, London, Frankfurt, and Nuremberg. We lost our luggage when we decided to fly directly to London instead of trying to get to Paris when we missed our connection. We spent four days wearing the same clothes and hoping to see our luggage. It became very depressing on Thursday morning (having left Wednesday) when we realized we would probably not get it at all.

We complained quite a bit to each other and it affected our moods and the way we felt about the trip as a whole. It wasn’t until Friday afternoon and Saturday that we began to enjoy it a little. It was supposed to be a ten year anniversary and birthday trip because we left on Lauren’s birthday and we don’t have plans for August 12 this year since I’ll be at BYU.

Today, almost a month after we arrived back home, I was reading a book I’ve been chugging through for about a year or so. It’s The Journal of Jesse N. Smith, Six Decades in the Early West. I opened the book to read this from May 30, 1863:

My trunk was placed in the baggage car by a porter who reported it marked for Grimsby. At Retford I changed cars but did not go personally to look after my trunk. At Ulcery changed again, here my trunk went missing. As soon as I reached Grimsby the station master kindly telegraphed for it to Retford. Walked down to the docks; dined at the Royal Docks Hotel. Weighed 171 pounds (wouldn’t that be nice!). Returned to the station; the operator said my trunk was not at Retford, but would be telegraphed for from there to London. Waited for the 9:15 train. Still no tidings. Returned to the hotel and took lodgings. Meanwhile, the steamer I expected to take, sailed.

The next day, May 31, he wrote:

Called on one Isaac Freeman, a Pole in the employ of a forwarding company with whom I had become acquainted on former visits here. He assured me my luggage would come all right. Walked with him around the harbor; being near the railroad, a train came sweeping around a curve. The station master was on the engine; he beckoned, Freeman ran up and was informed that my trunk was on the train. We hastened up to the station; the trunk was there. I was glad to get it, for it contained papers of great value to me. Here I must wait till Wednesday for the next steamer.

It appears that this was a pretty major inconvenience for him since he had to wait three days to catch the next steamer. Yet, there wasn’t a single word of complaint. In fact, he complained more about the tobacco smoke on the boat when he did finally go, “annoyed by passengers who kept the cabin reeking with tobacco smoke” and “3 1/2 hours by rail, during which I endured a general smoking in the car.”

I enjoy catching a glimpse of what life was like for a missionary in 1863—130 years before I went on my mission to Europe. I can learn from ‘Uncle Jesse’ to complain less and work harder.

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