At this time my father was residing one mile south of the temple. About twelve o'clock one bitter cold night he was startled by a knock at the door, and who should enter but Father Smith, the patriarch! A State's warrant had been served on him for an alleged crime, and the officer in whose custody he was placed, although an enemy to the church, knowing the old gentleman to be innocent, had preconcerted a stratagem by which he had been let down from a window in the room to which he had taken him, ostensibly for private consultation but purposely to set him at liberty, having previously prepared a way by which he could reach the ground uninjured. He also told him where to go for safety, directing him to my father's house. The officer returned to the court-room as though Father Smith followed in the rear, when, on a sudden, he looked back, and not seeing his prisoner, he hurried back to the private room, examining every point, and returned in great apparent amazement and confusion, declaring that the prisoner had gone in an unaccountable manner, saying, ludicrously, "This, gentlemen, is another Mormon miracle." No vigorous search was made—all must have been convinced that the proceedings were as unjust as illegal. To return to my father's house: We were proud of our guest, and all of the family took pleasure in anticipating and supplying his wants. He remained with us two weeks, and in the meantime settled up all his business matters, and, having been joined by his youngest son, Don Carlos, and five other brethren, whose lives had been threatened, he bade a final adieu to Kirtland, at one hour past midnight, on the 21st of December, 1837. The night was intensely cold, but, as they had no conveyance except one horse, they had sufficient walking exercise to prevent freezing. They found a few Latter-day Saints in a southern county of Ohio, where they stayed till spring, when they left for Missouri.
The pressure of opposition increased, and before spring the prophet and his brother Hyrum had to leave; and, in the spring and summer of 1838, the most of the church followed; leaving our homes, and our sacred, beautiful temple, the sanctuary of the Lord God of Hosts.
CHAPTER XIV.
AN ILLUSTRIOUS MORMON WOMAN—THE FIRST WIFE OF THE IMMORTAL HEBER C. KIMBALL—OPENING CHAPTER OF HER AUTOBIOGRAPHY—HER WONDERFUL VISION—AN ARMY OF ANGELS SEEN IN THE HEAVENS.
One of the very queens of Mormondom, and a woman beloved by the whole church, during her long eventful lifetime, was the late Vilate Kimball. To-day she sleeps by the side of her great husband, for Heber C. Kimball was one of the world's remarkable men. He soon followed her to the grave; a beautiful example she of the true love existing between two kindred souls notwithstanding polygamy. Her sainted memory is enshrined in the hearts of her people, and ever will be as long as the record of the sisters endures.
"My maiden name," she says, in her autobiography, "was Vilate Murray. I am the youngest daughter of Roswell and Susannah Murray. I was born in Florida, Montgomery county, New York, June 1st, 1806. I was married to Heber Chase Kimball November 7, 1822, having lived until that time with my parents in Victor, Ontario county.
"After marriage my husband settled in Mendon, Monroe county. Here we resided until we gathered in Kirtland in the fall of 1833.
"About three weeks before we heard of the latter-day work we were baptized into the Baptist Church.
"Five elders of the Church of Latter-day Saints came to the town of Victor, which was five miles from Mendon, and stopped at the house of Phineas Young, the brother of Brigham. Their names were Eleazer Miller, Elial Strong, Alpheus Gifford, Enos Curtis and Daniel Bowen.
"Hearing of these men, curiosity prompted Mr. Kimball to go and see them. Then for the first time he heard the fullness of the everlasting gospel and was convinced of its truth. Brigham Young was with him.