Copied from the Autobiography(s) of Robert Lee Bybee. There are at least two versions of Robert Lee Bybee’s autobiography. Both versions of this event are copied below; differences are fairly minor.

[This event occurred sometime around October 4, 1857. Robert Bybee states that this happened in late August, but William Alpheas Simmons was killed on September 30, 1857. Bybee claims here that Bill Simmons’ body was brought to East Weber the day after his death, supposedly a Sunday, but the nearest Sunday fell on October 4th that year. After Robert Bybee reaches Echo Canyon, he continues on to join with Lot Smith at Ham’s Fork. The Nauvoo Legion under Lot Smith undertook several actions against the US Army during those first two weeks of October.]

Version 1:

President Young had immediately, on receiving the news of the army’s advance, started to make preparations to prevent the army entering Salt Lake Valley. He called for volunteers, and nearly every man was available at once. I departed from home about August 20th with the group of men who were offering their services from East Weber. We immediately proceeded to Echo Canyon where the main encampment was forming. The camp there was under the command of Colonel C. W. West, of Ogden. Here we subjected ourselves to military discipline and training. I remember here our drill sergeant, Dan Campbell, who was a very efficient man. He was perhaps 45 years old and about as quick witted as any Irishman that ever lived. He was always very considerate of his men.

During the latter part of August [September] I was allowed to return home on account of ill health. I remember the account I heard of the unfortunate killing of one of the volunteers named William Simmons. This happened a day or so after I departed for home [William Alpheas Simmons died on September 30]. Practically all the guns we had were muzzle loaders, and it was common belief among the camp that these guns would not throw a bullet over the highest cliff of the canyon facing the camp. One day in some leisure hours, Bill Simmons, and Henry and Larry Robinson climbed up the cliffs. In order to do so they had to go quite a way up the canyon and ascend `thru’ a small canyon that broke the line of cliffs. In the course of a few hours they showed themselves on a large rock on the highest point of the cliff, and noticing a small group of men standing around a tent door cleaning a gun, they started a conversation with them which ended with Bill Simmons offering the man with the gun a shot at him. I cannot recall the man’s name who did the shooting, but as soon as he could load the gun he aimed the gun at Simmons, who was standing in the middle of the three abreast of each other, and fired. No one ever dreamed of the possibility of the result of firing, but the bullet found its landing place in Simmons’ left temple, and he would have certainly fell face forward over the cliff had it not been for his companions. They immediately brought the body to camp. The two Robinson boys and Simmons were all members of East Weber Ward. Next day (Sunday) the body was wrapped in a wagon cover and placed in a wagon and brought to East Weber. Here I viewed the remains of the body the evening of the day it was brought home, a silent reminder of the uncertainties of life. We were on our way to evening meeting when the body arrived. The first impressions throughout the community were that the army had arrived and that there had been a battle, and excitement ran high for while until the particulars became known. I, somewhat overcome by a curiosity to see the body, went to the wagon and uncovered the body until I could see the head and shoulders, and there in his left temple I saw the wound. Believe me, in the course of the next 24 hours I wished I had mastered my curiosity.

Some few days previous to Simmons’ death, Col. West had turned the command of this camp over to a Col. Jones from Salt Lake. Col. West had then returned to Ogden. Bishop Osborn of East Weber had spent this Sunday in Ogden and before returning home had seen Col. West, who asked the Bishop if there was anyone available in East Weber with whom he could send a message to Col. Jones in Echo Canyon, and he informed Col. West that I was at home and would take the letter . I don’t believe that my eyes had been off Simmons’ body over 5 minutes when the Bishop found me and made known what I was wanted to do. I was furnished about the poorest excuse of a horse and saddle that ever anyone was asked to ride, and after taking my wife home I set out for Echo Canyon, the letter having been delivered to me by Bishop Osborn. When I set out, it was quite dark. The night was clear and starry but there was no moon, and the shadows of the canyons served to intensify the darkness. My instructions were to proceed to the upper end of Weber Valley and there make application to Ben Simonds, an old Delaware Indian who was very friendly toward us, for another horse. I was forced to cross the Weber River the second time soon after I reached Weber Valley. I never was so disgusted with a horse in all my life as I was with this one. I used about twenty different kinds of persuasion on him, and I couldn’t find a single one to impress in any way upon him the fact that I was trying to hurry. I coaxed and coaxed and whipped a little, and then a lot, and I could not make enough difference in the rate of speed to hardly notice it. I believe the only time I had him on a good, healthy gallop was once soon after I crossed the river up in the valley. I was just taking a great deal of satisfaction in the rate of speed I had attained, when a front foot of the old critter found a badger hole and threw me a distance ‘considerable’ farther than I could see in the dark. I have absolutely no knowledge of how long I lay there on the ground, but when I regained my senses sufficiently to gather myself up, I was still pretty well dazed, and for a short time I couldn’t get things straightened out in my mind. Finally I got things figured out and was ready to start on except for my horse. At first I couldn’t see him, but I located him very shortly. He was standing within an easy distance of me, perfectly still, as if wondering why we didn’t go on our way. It was now only a few miles to Ben Simond‘s place, and in a short time I was there. I had to arouse them out of bed, and when I had made known my wants, every effort was made to assist me. One of Simon’s men was detailed to get me the fastest and best horse he had, and I was fed while the horse was being brought, ready to go, all saddled and bridled.


I proceeded from Simon’s place on up `thru’ the Upper Weber Canyon. In all the experiences of my life, I know there has never been anything quite so lonely as that night. If I hadn’t seen Simmons, body and the wound, it perhaps would have been quite the same as any other night. It was simply impossible to make any speed on that old horse and I worried along as best I could; the time, as a result, dragged along and passed as if it really hated to go. I knew I was alone in the canyon, but the occasional flash into my mind of Simmons and the loneliness of the night served to make me quite uneasy and somewhat nervous, and I went along prepared for the worst at every turn.

I was pretty well along on my trip through upper Weber Canyon having just passed Devil’s Slide, when in the distance ahead of me, I noticed a faint light. Here again my imagination and the condition of my mind as a result of the other happenings of the evening served to make me wonder what was to be the next thing. The first thing I `thot’ of was a detachment of soldiers were there to prevent just such communications as I was bearing. I advanced cautiously and slowly, and as I neared the light, I found a few parties who had made camp. The light was a little to the left of the road, and so far as I could detect, the road beyond the light was clear. So when I `thot’ the proper place in the road had been reached, I spurred up my horse to a fair rate of speed and rode straight `thru’ their camp. They heard me but made no effort to stop me, and only remarked it was someone going `thru’ camp on a horse. I was surely glad when I did get past, and I went on up the canyon as fast as I could and be sure my horse would last. About day break I was within sight of my destination, and as I approached Col. Jones’ tent, I was met by the orderly, and there ended the most lonely night I ever spent in my whole life, and I was surely thankful it was over and had been no worse. My instructions had been to give the letter to Col. Jones personally, and when I approached, I made known to the orderly what my mission was and asked for Col . Jones, and in a few minutes I was presented to the Colonel and delivered the letter.

Version 2:

I left home about August 20 with the men from East Weber, for Echo Canyon where the main body of the men was forming. The camp there was under the command of Colonel C.W. West of Ogden, and we received the usual army discipline and training. Our drill Sergeant was Dan Campbell, who was a very efficient man. He was a quick-witted Irishman, and considerate of his men.

In the latter part of August [September] I was allowed to return home on account of poor health. About two or three days after I left the camp for home, I received word of the accidental shooting of one of the volunteers from East Weber, named William Simmons. Most of the guns we had were muzzleloaders, and their destructive force was rather under estimated by the men, they entertained the idea that a rifle would not throw a ball over the cliff facing the camp in Echo Canyon. During the quiet of the afternoon Bill Simmons and Henry and Larry Robinson climbed the cliff. This was accomplished by starting some distance up the canyon and finally passing through a ravine to the rear, then to the top. From here they could see over the surrounding country, and they noticed a small group of the boys in camp cleaning their guns, and they called to them what they would give them a shot at if they wanted it. I do not recall the man’s name that did the shooting, but as soon as the gun was loaded, he fired at William Simmons, who gave the dare and was standing between the Robinson boys. The bullet landed in Simmons left temple, and he would have fallen over the face of the cliff, had it not been for his companions. Next day, Sunday, the body was wrapped in a wagon cover and taken to East Weber in a wagon. Here I saw the body the evening of the day it was brought home, a silent reminder of the uncertainties of life. We were on our way to the evening meeting when the body arrived. The first reaction of the people was that the army had arrived and there had been a battle, and excitement ran high until the facts were known.

I was curious to see the body, so I went to the wagon where it was and uncovered it until I could see the head and shoulders, and I saw the wound on the left temple. Within the next 24 hours I wished I had mastered my curiosity.

A few days before Mr. Simmons death, Colonel West, who was in charge of the camp, turned the command over to Colonel Jones of Salt Lake City, and he returned to Ogden. Bishop Osborn, of East Weber, had spent the Sunday that the body had arrived in Ogden, and had see Colonel West, and he asked the Bishop if he had someone that he could trust to take a message to Colonel Jones at Echo Canyon. The Bishop told him I was at home and would take the message. It had not been more than a few minutes since I saw Mr. Simmons’ body when the bishop asked me to take the message to Colonel Jones. I was furnished about the poorest horse and saddle any one ever rode. I did not go to Sacrament Meeting, but took my wife home and set out for Echo Canyon. There was no moon, the sky was clear and the stars glistened but with it all, it was dark and the walls of the canyon only served to intensify that darkness.

I was instructed to go to the upper end of Weber Valley and there make application to Ben Simonds, an old Delaware Indian, who was very friendly, for a fresh horse. I was forced to cross the Weber River the second time before I reached the Weber Valley. My horse was terrible; I used about twenty kinds of persuasion on him and couldn’t impress him with the idea that I was trying to hurry. I coaxed a little, then a lot, then whipped a little and then a lot, but the difference in speed was negligible. I had him on a full gallop but once, soon after I crossed the river in the valley. I was just congratulating myself on my speed when the old critter centered a badger hole with his right front foot and threw me farther than I could see in the dark. I have no idea how long I laid there, but when I became conscious of myself, I was lost as to which way was which. I finally placed myself and was ready to go, but I had no horse. I located him nearby and he acted as if he was waiting for me for sometime. I regained the saddle and was on my way.

Within the hour I was at Mr. Simonds’ home, and though I had to call them from their beds, they showed me every attention, and with the help of one of his men I was soon on my way. While they made ready the horse, the folks at the house fed me so I was in fact, ready to accept the chances of the night. From Ben’s place I went up through the Upper Weber Canyon. In all the experiences of my life I know there has never been any time so completely lonely as that night. If I had not seen Mr. Simmon’s body at East Weber, it might have been much the same as any other night. My new horse was not much improvement over the old, but I constantly tried for speed, but the time seemed to hold as if it hated to desert me. Of course I realized I was alone in the canyon, and the remembrance I had of Mr. Simmon’s body, and the loneliness of the night served to make me quite uneasy and nervous, and I expected the worst at every turn.

I was well along with my trip through the upper Weber Canyon, having just passed the Devil’s Slide, when in the distance ahead of me I noticed a faint light. Here again my imagination and the conditions of my mind caused me to wonder what was to happen next. Naturally, the first thought was of a detachment of soldiers out to prevent just such communications as I was bearing. I advanced slowly and with caution. From what I could see there was a camp there of a few persons and off the road to the left. The light was dim but from what I could see the road was clear beyond the camp. When I rode as close as I thought proper, I urged my horse to the best speed possible, and rode straight through their camp. As I reached the opposite side I heard someone say that it was someone riding through camp but made no effort to stop me. I was surely relieved when I was well on my way and made all the speed I could consistent with my “power plant,” for he was to last me all the way.

As I approached Colonel Jones’ tent I was met by a guard and after I explained my mission and that I was cautioned to deliver the message to no one but Colonel Jones personally, I was soon presented to the Colonel and delivered my message.