of goodby to his friends. Four miles from Carthage
they met a company of militia going to Nauvoo with an order from the
governor that the Nauvoo Legion give up its arms. Joseph rode back with
them to see that this was done. Twice he bade his family farewell. His face
was pale, and he was suffering.

"I am going like a lamb to the slaughter," he said, "but I am calm as a
summer morning."

At Carthage they were received with oaths and threats by the troops.
Apostates and soldiers swore that the brethren would never leave Carthage
alive.

The next day the governor paraded the prisoners before the troops, who
insulted them as they passed along. Then they were placed in the jail
awaiting their trial.

[Illustration: CARTHAGE JAIL.]

The day following, the prisoners were marched to the court house, guarded
by the troops; but the trial was postponed until the next day, and the
brethren were taken back to jail.

This was the 26th of June. That night Joseph was lying on the floor with
some of the brethren. Brother Dan Jones was on one side and Brother John S.
Fullmer on the other.

"Lay your head on my arm for a pillow, Brother John," said Joseph, and
then he talked with him in a low tone. Joseph expressed a desire to see his
family again and preach to the Saints once more.

To Brother Jones he whispered, "Are you afraid to die?" When Brother Jones
said he was not, Joseph replied, "You will yet see Wales, and fulfill the
mission appointed you, before you die." (Dan Jones did a wonderful
missionary work in Wales.)

The next morning the guards frequently told some of the brethren that if
they did not wish to be killed they had better get away from Joseph. This
was told to Governor Ford, but he paid no attention to it.

At 10:30 that morning, June 27, the governor with the most friendly of the
troops left for Nauvoo, and the brethren were left to their fate.

In an upper room of Carthage jail, Joseph, Hyrum, John Taylor, and Willard
Richards were spending their time in writing letters, singing, talking, and
praying. In the afternoon Joseph asked Elder Taylor to sing the hymn,
commencing:

"A poor wayfaring man of grief."

And when it was done he asked him to sing it again. Brother Taylor said he
could hardly sing it, he felt so sad, but he sang the hymn again.

About 5 o'clock in the afternoon a mob of about two hundred men surrounded
the jail. They had blackened their faces with powder and mud. Then the
firing be