A Night of Anxiety

A Night of Anxiety
Written by James H. Martineau

In the fall of 1852, Walker, the great Utah chieftain, “King of the Mountains”, as he called himself, came to Parowan, Iron County. He was on his way from the Colorado River to the settlements in Northern Utah and had with him his whole band of about four hundred warriors with their squaws and papooses. He made camp about ½ mile from Parowan Fort, and turned all his horses, nearly a thousand in number, into our fields of grain, some of which were cut and standing in shocks, while the most of the corn, oats, and wheat was still uncut. When we protested, he in a lordly manner replied: “All this land is mine. I will put my horses where I please.”

The president of the colony answered, “If the land is yours, the wheat and corn are not; we planted it, and your horses must not destroy it.”

But Chief Walker was stubborn and defiant; his force of “braves” outnumbered us four to one, and were far better armed, having many guns, others the deadly bow and flint headed arrows which were more to be dreaded than the rifle, as the arrowhead, moistened and loosed from it’s shaft, would remain in the body when the shaft was pulled out, causing often a more deadly wound than would a bullet.

It was a desperate case for the colonists; for they were more than 200 miles from the nearest settlement, and the entire distance was infested with savages. It was impossible for a messenger to reach help, and even if that were possible, before help could arrive, if hostilities occur, all would be over, and the rescuers would find only blackened ruins and mangled remains.
On the other hand, should we suffer our crops to be destroyed to avoid bloodshed, all sustenance would be cut off, and starvation face us, even should we be able to defend the fort. But even then, what could we do without teams and cattle, for they would no doubt be in the hands of the Indians.

All this was anxiously debated in council, and we finally decided to put on a bold front, and if necessary defend our families and property to the last. Accordingly an ultimatum was sent to the chief, as follows: “Take your horses out of our field and keep them out, or we will do so ourselves.”

Walker returned an answer, “I will not take them out. The land is mine, and I’ll put them where I please, and if you turn them out I will burn your houses and kill every man, woman and child. Not one shall be left alive.”

Again, after serious deliberation, it was decided to stand firmly by our last decision. Should we weaken now, we would always in future be outraged by them. It would be better to settle the matter now, once and for all, trusting in our Father to help us in our extremity.

Accordingly, a strong party, well armed, turned the horses out and drove them away a couple of miles. The few Indians guarding them made no resistance, but hastened to Walker with the tidings. The Indians rushed to recover their horses, yelling frightfully, firing their guns and making a fearful pandemonium.

Meanwhile the fort was a scene of bustle and preparation for what might happen would Walker undertake to execute his threat.

A few words now to describe what was called the “fort,” which was founded January 19, 1851, by Apostle George A. Smith, and about a hundred men and a few women. It was built around a square about the size of a Salt Lake City block. The houses all faced and opened toward the center. No windows and very few doors opened outward. The open spaces in the fort line between the houses were filled with a palisade of heavy twelve-foot high timbers set on end, sharpened at the top and placed closely together. Within was a corral large enough to contain all the cow herd and teams, into which they were brought for safety, at night fall. A gate way in each side of the fort was closed at night by strong doors and securely fastened, while sentinels, in military order, guarded the fort by night. In this manner was Parowan guarded for over three years.

In the Indian camp all was excitement and furious rage. The men began the war dance, varied at times by the scalp dance, keeping it up all the afternoon and night, making the night hideous with their frightful yells and screeches. Some, who could speak a little English, ventured near the fort and cried out: “We kill you quick! We cut you all pieces! We burn you—make you yell!”

But in the fort there was no excitement or confusion. While all knew how great was the danger, their trust in the Lord gave them calmness and courage. This was especially the case with the women. They, who so often shriek with real or assumed terror when a mouse happens near, can face death in hideous form with a calmness and courage not surpassed by man. And now, while all well understood the possibility of death, or, still more dreadful, the horrid torture the savages delight to witness, not one of them wept or cried out in fear; and while the writer and every other man was under arms all night, watching for possible attack, each woman calmly did what to her seemed most needful in her own habitation to prepare for what might happen.

As our little one room house had a door opening outward, my wife (Susan Ellen Johnson) barricaded it with furniture and bedding to keep out any bullets fired at the door, and then spent the most of the night melting lead and making bullets for me and for such others as desired her help. She sat at the fire as calm and unconcerned as if cooking a meal. She was then, not quite seventeen, but was as cool and brave as any man, not withstanding her youth. From the days of Kirtland she had passed through the persecutions and dangers of the Saints and had learned to put her trust in the Lord.

All night long the war dances continued, but when day appeared the Indians found the fort too strong for attack and left us in peace, having learned a lesson they never forgot; for never again did they attempt to over ride the colonies of Southern Utah. The colonists also, learned the value of the counsel always given by that wise pioneer George A. Smith, never to be the aggressor, but to be always prepared for defense. It was his motto, often repeated in my hearing. “Better carry a gun twenty years and not need it, than to want one two minutes and not have it.” He counseled us never to leave the fort for work in the field, the canyon, or to hunt cattle on the range without arms for defense. Obedience to his wise counsel was the temporal salvation of those weak colonies. Never less than two ever went to the canyon for wood; while one loaded the wagons, the other kept guard. In the field each man kept his gun ready for instant use, and the cow herd was guarded by well armed men. At times men took their rifles with them to Sunday meetings, each man sitting with his gun between his knees. This was done in order that the Indians could not visit the dwellings and take the guns while all were absent.
The present generation cannot understand such conditions, but these were the experiences of many of the early settlers of Utah. And it was the sturdy heroism of the men and women pioneers, their faith and endurance, perpetuated by their children, that has given Utah her proud standing as a state in the Union