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Life of Heber C. Kimball, an Apostle Part 1

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Life of Heber C. Kimball, an Apostle.

by Orson F. Whitney.

PREFACE.

In presenting this work to the public, I not only fulfill the desires of my own heart and those of my kindred who have undertaken to publish what is here written and compiled, but likewise, I am persuaded, the wish of our departed ancestor. Laying the foundation for such a work while living (as the copious selections from his own writings will testify), he left its bringing forth as a sacred legacy to his posterity.

For many years this duty, unenjoined in words, but accepted by all in the light of a behest, was permitted to lie dormant. The death of President Kimball, on the 22nd of June, 1868, was a calamity so sudden and heavy in its effect upon his family, as to almost paralyze thought and effort. Though trained to independence and self-reliance, under his wise government, and never pampered in ease and luxury, they had ever looked to him for guidance and support, and had never known the weight of responsibility resting upon him as their parent and provider, only as from time to time he had taken certain ones into his confidence and permitted them to share his burdens.

In his absence they were as sheep that had lost their shepherd. "Who will provide for us now, and what shall we do to earn a livelihood?"

Such were the thoughts presented to their minds, and the questions asked of their secret souls, as they looked around upon their temporal situation. The division of the parental estate had left them comfortable, though far from rich, None of his sons had trades, but all had been brought up to work. Realizing that a city life was no longer their lot, they resolved to separate, and, following the example of their ancestors for generations, go forth and colonize new regions. Some moved north, and others south, but few remaining in the city of their birth, and at the expiration of fifteen years, many had become almost as strangers to each other.

About the year 1883 a spirit of inquiry commenced to manifest itself among the members of the Kimball family, causing them to "feel after"

and evince more interest in each other's welfare. This sentiment increasing, some of the elder members at length opened a correspondence on the subject of a family reunion. By many this was deemed impracticable, owing to their scattered condition; some living in Idaho, some in southern Arizona, and others in California; and nearly all in circ.u.mstances which, it was thought, would hardly justify the necessary outlay. But the desire to meet and mingle with each other finally grew so urgent and so general among them--as though some unseen power were at work in their midst, with this object in view--that it was determined to hold the reunion, no matter what sacrifice it entailed.

During the summer of 1886, a number of the family met and appointed a Committee on Reunion, selecting for the day, June 14th, 1887, (the eighty-sixth anniversary of their father's birth) and as the place of meeting, Fuller's Hill Gardens, Salt Lake City. There came together on that memorable occasion, fully three hundred members and relatives of the Kimball family, with others who had been invited to take part in the celebration. A programme, previously arranged, consisting of speeches, recitations, readings, vocal and instrumental music, etc., was carried out to the satisfaction and enjoyment of all, and the remainder of the time spent in amus.e.m.e.nt, festivity and recreation. A spirit of peace and union, powerful and indescribable, pervaded the a.s.sembly and permeated the whole occasion, causing every heart to swell with love, and many an eye to glisten with tears of grat.i.tude and joy. As though, indeed, the spirits of the departed were there, bringing with them the sweet influences of the celestial world, to weld anew, as links of a broken chain, the souls of those so long separated. It was, in truth, a day never to be forgotten.

There were present, of the family of President Kimball, nineteen sons, six daughters, and several of his widows, besides grand-children, and many other relatives, near and remote.

One of the features of the programme was a sketch of the life of Heber C. Kimball, written for the occasion and read by his grandson, the author of this work. This incident determined and united the family on a project mooted by its members and partly executed several years before. It was the publication of the life of Heber C. Kimball. On the evening of the day of reunion the male members of the family met and appointed a committee of five on publication. Several thousand dollars of undivided property, still in the estate, was devoted to the purpose, and the author hereof solicited, and by unanimous voice chosen and engaged to write the history.

Such, in brief, were the immediate causes of the coming forth of this volume.

In the execution of my task, I have felt strongly moved upon by the spirit of my grandsire, and verily believe that his presence, though unseen, has hovered near me.

This book is written from the standpoint of a Latter-day Saint. It makes no apology for the honest expression of views, which, however false or fanatical they may seem to others, are in the opinion of the author only such as ought to be entertained by every sincere believer and defender of the faith. It is issued with the humble and earnest hope that it may go forth as a messenger of Truth to help prepare the way for greater things that shall glorify G.o.d and redeem Zion. The life of a man like Heber C. Kimball, with its lessons of faith and humility, of virtue, courage and devotion, cannot fail, if prayerfully read, to do something in this direction.

Wherever possible, I have allowed the subject to speak for himself. In lieu of converting facts found of record in his Journal into "original matter," I have presented them mostly in all their freshness and simplicity; as flowers of the field, with the dew and fragrance of their native meadow yet clinging to them. This has been done, not only out of deference to the wishes of his relatives, who desired that much of what their father had written should be incorporated in the book of his life, but because I have deemed it best to thus project upon the reader's mental vision, by means of the most superior process, the portrait of the man and his mission as painted by himself.

I cannot close this introductory without expressing my deep sense of indebtedness to the kind friends who have aided and encouraged me in the bringing forth of this, my first book. Their name is legion, but limited s.p.a.ce will only permit the mention of a few. To President Wilford Woodruff and others of the Apostles I am indebted for kind words and encouragement, and for the appointment of a committee, at my request, to read the ma.n.u.script and pa.s.s upon it critically, as to doctrinal and historical points, before placing it in the hands of the printer; to Elder George Reynolds, for his intelligent advice and labors as one of said committee; and to Edward W. Tullidge Esq., the veteran author, for a collection of facts relating to my subject, gathered during his extensive experience as historian and biographer.

Last, but not least, in this limited reference, I am under obligations of grat.i.tude to my uncle, Solomon F. Kimball, the chief promoter of this work, who first approached me on the subject of writing his father's life, and who, in all the toils incident to such an undertaking, has proved my staunch and faithful friend.

My labor, I need hardly say, in conclusion, has been one of love and duty. I have fulfilled, imperfectly I know, conscientiously I am as certain, what I considered a sacred trust; the result of which I now lay at the feet of an indulgent public.

ORSON F. WHITNEY.

NOVEMBER, 1888.

CHAPTER I.

A PRE-EXISTENT GLIMPSE--G.o.d'S n.o.bLE AND GREAT ONES--HEBER C. KIMBALL A PREDESTINED PROPHET--OPENING OF THE LAST DISPENSATION--HEBER'S BIRTH AND PARENTAGE--EARLY INCIDENTS OF HIS LIFE--CLOUDS AND SUNs.h.i.+NE.

Men like Heber C. Kimball are not accidents. They are emphatically and in the truest sense, children of destiny. If we seek their origin, and would know their truth, we must not halt beside the humble cradle which "lulled their infant cares to rest." We must rise on spirit wings above the mists and vapors of mortality, and survey them in the light of an eternal existence, a life without beginning or end. Says one of old:

"Now the Lord had shown unto me, Abraham, the intelligences that were organized before the world was; and among all these there were many of the n.o.ble and great ones; and G.o.d saw these souls that they were good, and he stood in the midst of them, and he said, 'These I will make my rulers'; for he stood among those that were spirits, and he saw that they were good, and he said unto me, Abraham, thou art one of them, thou wast chosen before thou wast born."

Again, unto Jeremiah:

"Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations."

What is true in this respect of ancient prophets, is true also of modern prophets, for verily are their origin, their mission and their destiny the same.

It devolved upon the subject of this writing to come forth at a time which has no parallel in all the ages of the past. The day of G.o.d's power and of Zion's glory was about to dawn. The Sun that set in blood behind Judea's hills was soon to rise o'er Zion's mountain-tops and flood the world with light. The latter-day dispensation was opening.

All things in Christ were to be gathered in one. The curtain of history had risen on the last act of the tragedy of Time.

Would G.o.d leave the world without "great and n.o.ble ones" at such an hour?

Heber Chase Kimball was born into this life June 14th, 1801. The same soil produced him that in colonial times brought forth an Ethan Allen, the hero of Ticonderoga, and in later years the wondrous twain of spirits known to the world as Joseph Smith and Brigham Young.

A far greater work than the capture of a British fortress was in the future of this Mormon triad of "Green Mountain boys," who went forth "in the name of the great Jehovah" to invade the strongholds of Satan, and plant the banner of gospel truth above the ramparts of his conquered citadels.

Heber's birthplace was the town of Sheldon, Franklin County, Vermont, ten miles from the sh.o.r.es of Lake Champlain. He was the fourth child and second son in a family of seven, the order of whose birth was as follows: Charles Spaulding, Eliza, Abigail, Heber Chase, Melvina, Solomon and Daniel Spaulding, the last named of whom died in infancy.

These were all born in Sheldon.

His father's name was Solomon Farnham Kimball, a native of Ma.s.sachusetts, where he was born in the year 1770. He was "a man of good moral character," and, though he professed no religion, taught his children correct principles. His mother's maiden name was Anna Spaulding; she was a strict Presbyterian, lived a virtuous life, and, according to her best knowledge, reared her family in the ways of righteousness. She was the daughter of Daniel and Speedy Spaulding, and was born in Plainfield, New Hamps.h.i.+re, on the banks of the Connecticut river.

The Kimb.a.l.l.s were of Scotch descent, their ancient name, it is believed, being Campbell. Heber's grandfather and a brother came from England, in time to a.s.sist in gaining the independence of the colonies. In America his ancestors and those of the Prophet Joseph Smith were related by marriage.

Heber derived his given name from a Judge Chase, of Ma.s.sachusetts, by whom his father was reared from a boy, and who chanced to visit his former protege soon after his son was born. The judge himself proposed the christening, and the parents being nothing loth, Heber Chase Kimball became the infant's name.

This Judge Chase, though presumably "learned in the law," like many of his cla.s.s in those primitive, common sense days was not above following the humbler pursuits of life. He was a blacksmith, and taught Heber's father that trade, and when he had married, helped him to establish his smithy in the town of Sheldon.

"At the close of the Revolutionary War," says Heber, "my father was thirteen years old, and I can remember his rehearsing to me some of the scenes of the war.

"He was captain of a company of militia in Sheldon, and wore a c.o.c.ked hat of the old English style, a straightbodied coat, and short breeches with a knee buckle, long stockings, and Suwarrow boots with a pair of ta.s.sels.

"He was partly bald, had dark-brown hair, blue eyes, sandy whiskers and light complexion; he was five feet, eleven inches high, and weighed two hundred pounds and upwards.

"He engaged in farming and clearing land, burning the wood into coal and ashes; he had also a forge and trip-hammer, in the manufacture of wrought iron.

"About the time of the embargo, before the last war with England, my father lost his property, as it was invested in salts, potash and pearlash; the embargo, having shut down the gate of commerce between the United States and England, left his property in his hands without much value."

In February, 1811, the Kimb.a.l.l.s migrated from Vermont, and settled in West Bloomfield, Ontario County, New York, five hundred miles from their former home, where the head of the family reengaged in his occupations of farmer and blacksmith, to which he now added that of builder. He was aided in his new venture by Judge Towsley, of Scipio, Cayuga County, who had employed him for several months as foreman in a blacksmith shop.

Heber thus describes the journey from Sheldon to West Bloomfield, with incidents of their subsequent experience in that then new country:

"My father took my mother and six children in a sleigh, with one span of horses, a change of clothing for each of us, and some blankets to wrap us in; when we reached St. Albans, my father bought each of his boys a hat, which was the first hat I ever had on my head. We traveled on Lake Champlain, on the ice, and the wind being very high, my hat was blown off and lost.

"We traveled on the ice up to Whitehall, a distance of one hundred and ten miles, where, spring being open, he traded his sleigh for a wagon and proceeded to West Bloomfield.

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