Recollections and reflections of an old itinerant. A series of letters originally published in the Christian advocate and journal and the Western Christian advocate

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Book. D^^A^ Gopyiigtrt]^"

CDEmCHT DEPOSIT.

Introduction

The following work, embracing as it does the autobiography of an old itinerant preacher, cannot but be deeply interesting to readers of every class ; but especially so must it be to the members and ministers of the Methodist Episcopal Church. A better conception of Methodism as it was, and as it is, in this country, as well as of the trials, the devotedness, and the usefulness, of the Methodist preachers of the past generation, will, in the judgment of the writer of these introductory remarks, be afforded by the Letters of Henry Smith, than by any other publication now extant.

^sTo attempt has been made to amend the style of the aged author — its artlessness is attractive and appropriate. The Letters remain as they were originally published, with the exception of a few slight corrections ; and even these were suggested or approved by the author himself. The reader, therefore, while engaged in the perusal of these pages, may imagine himself seated by the fireside in the lowly dwelling of this venerable minister of Christ, listening to the relation of the events of his past life, in his own simple language ; and to the reflections occasioned by the recital. If, as Dr. Johnson says, "there has rarely passed a life of which a judicious and faithful narrative would not be useful," surely the Recollections and

INTRODUCTION.

Reflections" now before us must furnish many profitable lessons, and be eminently worthy of attention.

It will be seen from the Letters themselves, that, at the time they were written, the author had no intention ever to repubhsh them. He had furnished a letter, embracing some interesting incidents relating to the introduction and progress of Methodism in the west, for the Western Christian Advocate — and this, which will be found in its appropriate place in this volume, excited so much interest, as to induce a formal application from the corresponding secretary of the Western Methodist Historical Society for further details, which were cheerfully given, and subsequently published. A letter was afterward written for the Christian Advocate and Journal; and in compHance ivith the solicitation of Dr. Bond, the senior editor of that Journal, the Letters followed which comprise the greater part of the series. They are now, in accordance with the wishes of esteemed and intelligent friends, presented to the public in the present form. " Such as they are," says the author, " they cost me much thought and labor, and many prayers and tears." They are sent forth with fervent prayer to God that they may be productive of good.

IN THE

CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE AND JOURNAL.

i

RECOLLECTIONS AND REFLECTIONS

OF AN

OLD ITINERANT.

Letter I

[Dear Brother, — I send you some sketches of my travels and labors in early times. I have thought they might be of some use to young preachers who complain of hard circuits, . rough fare, and poor pay ; but I may be mistaken.

Very respectfully yours, Henry Smith.

Pilgrim's Rest, Baltimore county, T)ec. 6, 1840.]

In August, 1793, I was licensed to preach at Milburn's meeting-house, then called Frederick, now Winchester circuit, Virginia ; P. Bruce, presiding elder ; J. Wells, preacher in charge. Early in the fall I was requested by Mr. Bruce to take Berkley circuit for about six weeks, while my much-esteemed brother T. Lyell was absent on a visit to his friends. This was a great cross ; but I went. Mr. Bruce pressed me to give myself up wholly to the work. I hesitated : but, after a few weeks, made up my mind, and wrote to him, according to his request ; and as I did not go to conference, he represented me in the Baltimore Annual Conference, held in Baltimore, October,

RECOLLECTIOJSrS OP

1793. Mr. Bruce was removed from the district, and Lemuel Green took his place ; and the preachers I met with could not tell whether I was received, or where my appointment was made. S. G. Roszel wrote to me some time in the winter, that Mr. Asburj had appointed me to Talbot circuit. Eastern Shore, Md. During this season of suspense, my mind was deeply exercised, but I was about setting off, when Mr. Green told me it was late, and now winter, and I had the bay to cross, &c., and he could employ me on Berkley circuit till spring. I attended a quarterly meeting at Kite's meeting-house, February 8, and from thence went into the work, under the direction of the presiding elder. Our last quarterly meeting was held at Payne's meeting-house, about the middle of May. Here the stewards offered me quarterage. I hesitated, but was urged to take it. As I still had a little money of my own, I doubted the propriety of receiving anything for my poor services. On this circuit I had many nursing fathers and mothers, who were very kind to me — but they are all gone to rest. It would afford me some gratification to record their names. Notwithstanding my great weakness, I had some fruit of my labors, and many happy meetings with my affectionate friends, and was sorry to part with them, but willing to go anywhere. I stayed on the circuit a few weeks after the quarterly meeting, and then sat out, in company with several of

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the preachers, for conference ; which began June 3d or 4th5 at Harrisonburg, Eockingham county, Virginia. Here I first saw Bishop Asburj. He was very poorly, with a bad cold and sore throat, and hardly able to sit in conference. They sat in rather a small room, with closed doors. About fifteen or twenty preachers present. I could give nearly all their names from memory. J. Wells, T. Fleming, S. G. Roszel, and myself, are the only four that are living, as far as I know.*

When I was called into conference the young preachers were under examination. They were called up, one by one, and gave in their religious experience, and assigned some reasons why they thought they were called to the ministry ; and the bishop asked them some questions on points of doctrine and discipline. He put some close questions to some, which alarmed me very much. I was the last that was called up. While I told my experience, &c., I trembled and wept ; the sympathies of the preachers were waked up in my favor, and the good bishop himself appeared to be touched ; for when I was done, he beckoned to me with his hand to sit down, and I was much relieved. And this was all the examination I ever passed through. At this conference we had a gracious work in the congregation, as well as love

=^ Since the original publication of this letter, my muchloved brethren T. Fleming and S. G. Koszel have finished their work, and are now reaping their reward.

EECOLLECTIONS OF and harmony among the preachers. We had but few preachers, and little business. I was appointed to what was then called Clarksburg circuit, on the Monongahela, Yirginia. The lower part of our circuit began at Martin's meeting-house, and extended up as high as Buchanan. The conference adjourned on the 5th. On the 6th I set out, in company with Charles Connaway, our presiding elder, James Fleming, my colleague, William Beauchamp, and others. My colleague and I hastened on to Morgantown, where we met with Thomas Barnes and his wife, from the mouth of Buffalo Creek, forty miles up the county. This was a providential meeting, for T now had a guide and good company. By the way we met with a rattlesnake, the first I had ever seen. It was in a terrible rage. It would raise itself from the ground, and pitch more than its length in every direction, rattling nearly all the time. It was well that I had company, or I should have been alarmed and fled from it : but brother Barnes, who understood more about such things, got down and soon dispatched it. I have seen a great many since, and killed a number, but never saw but one in such a rage afterward ; this was so much so, that it frightened my horse before I took notice of it. I threw stones at it till I disabled it, and then went near and crushed its head. While I am on this subject I would just remark, that I have conversed with a number of persons who

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had been bitten, either by the rattlesnake or copperhead, and the copperhead is nearly as venomous as the rattlesnake, and more apt to bite, for it bites without giving notice. The rattlesnake rattles first. Old brother Hacker, at whose house we preached, was bitten in the thigh by a rattlesnake, that year, when he was seeking his horses. I saw him before he was quite well, and asked him if he was not alarmed : he answered with a great deal of indifference, " O no ; it was a little scranny thing." "And what did you do?" « Why," said he, " I had a handful of salt in my pocket ; I spit some tobacco juice among it, and tied it on with my handkerchief, and walked home, when I applied something else ;" for they had several Indian cures. I knew a young man who was badly bitten in the foot by a large rattlesnake, when about half a mile from home. He was alone, and in the woods, and became alarmed at his situation, and ran for home with all his might. By the time he got home, the poison had circulated through his system, so that his tongue was swollen, and he fell over the door-sill, on the floor. His brothers immediately applied some Indian remedy, and saved their brother. But enough of this.

Brother Barnes and his pious wife conducted me to their home, and became as father and mother to me, and at their house I felt myself at home ; the more so as they had been acquainted with my father and family. Brother Barnes was an honest and industrious man, and, withal, a man of sound sense, and a good Christian. Sister Barnes I esteemed as one of the excellent of the earth. This was the first Methodist family that I had met with who catechised their children on Sunday evenings. Into this worthy family our brother Shinn afterward married. Here I met my colleague once in two weeks. In this neighborhood we had a good society, and held quarterly meetings at Calder Raymond's, about four miles oflP. ' During this summer I saw a man, said to be a hundred and thirteen years of age, ride to meeting to brother Barnes's, on a horse led by his son, himself an old man. He was a German, known by the name of Daddy Ice through all that country. He had been taken prisoner by the Indians, and suffered incredible hardships. I visited him in his last sickness, and found that his intellect had not failed him so much as might have been expected. I preached at his funeral ; and it was a solemn time while I preached to his children, then old gray-headed people, and his grandchildren and great grandchildren. From this place I pushed ahead through Clarksburg, and met my first appointment at Joseph Bennett's, about fifteen miles above Clarksburg, on the fourth Sunday in June. The people came to this meeting from four to five miles round ; for we had a good society here, and among them Joseph Chiveront, quite a respectable local preacher. They were

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all backwoods people, and came to meeting in backwoods style — all on foot ; a considerable congregation. I looked round and saw one old man who had shoes on his feet. The preacher wore Indian moccasins ; every man, woman, and child besides, was barefooted. Two old women had on what we then called short-gowns, and the rest had neither short nor long gowns. This was a novel sight to me, for a Sunday congregation. Brother Chiveront, in his moccasins, could have preached all round me ; but I was a stranger, and, withal, the circuit preacher, and must preach, of course. I did my best, and soon found if there were no shoes and fine dresses in the congregation, there were attentive hearers, and feeling hearts ; for the melting power of the Lord came down upon us, and we felt that the great Head of the church was in the midst of us. In meeting the class I heard the same humble, loving, religious experience, that I had often heard in betterdressed societies. If this scene did not make a backwoodsman of me outright, it at least reconciled me to the people, and I felt happy among them.

No doubt a great change has taken place since in that settlement ; but that was Methodism, and the state of society, as I found it then. Tovi^ard the latter part of the summer the Indians paid this settlement an unfriendly visit, and made an attempt on a brother Smith's family. It was

Sunday. The good man had just returned from a meeting in the evening, when he found some pigs in his garden, and told his children to drive them out. They took the dog; but instead of going after the pigs, he ran to some high weeds near the garden, where the Indians lay concealed, and began to bark fiercely at them. The Indians, finding themselves discovered, rose, and ran after the children. The children ran toward the house, and cried, " Indians ! Indians !" The father heard the cry, and met them at the corner of his cabin, near the door, and got them all in, and the door shut and barred, before the Indians came up. Had it not been for his faithful dog, the children could hardly have escaped, for the dog was still very fierce on them. They took shelter behind his corn-house, shot the poor dog, and then ran off. After killing two of the poor man's cattle, and taking some of the meat, they encamped that night in the hills not far from there. I have been at this house : it was within half a mile of father Bennett's. Brother Chiveront heard the guns, shouldered his rifle and ran, and was very near meeting the Indians. He went to the house, and found the family all safe, and took them to his own cabin, where there were two or three other cabins close together. The whole neighborhood was soon alarmed. All came to father Bennett's for safety, and there stayed till danger was thought to be over, Henry Smith.

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LETTER 11.

Dear Brother, — When we left Bennett's settlement, we went about twenty-five or thirty miles still higher up the Monongahela, and preached at the house of a brother Stortze. Within a short distance of this house, the same clan of Indians that had made an attempt on brother Smith's children took a young woman prisoner, as she was going to the spring one evening, and afterward murdered and scalped her. Some weeks after this, while my colleague was preaching in this place, a messenger came and injudiciously announced that her remains were found, and threw the whole congregation into consternation. Here I saw the men coming to meeting with their rifles on their shoulders, guarding their families, then setting their guns in a corner of the house till after meeting, and returning in the same order. In this settlement I met with a young man who had escaped from the Indians a few months before. He had been a prisoner for some time. He was young, active, and a first-rate hunter. He traveled eighteen days, or rather nights, through the wilderness, for he would lie concealed all day, and travel by night. One night he came near an Indian camp, but was not discovered. The moon and stars were his guide when clear ; when cloudy, he traveled by feeling the moss on the trees, as the moss grows on the north side : on the south the bark is rough and hard. Poor Cox's sufferings were great, and his narrative entertaining to me. He got near home in the evening, when he shouted ; his brother heard him, and knew his voice, and ran to meet him, and conducted him tG his father and mother. The joy I will not attempt to describe. His parents were both members of society. They had given up their son for dead. They knew that he was a good woodsman, and had little reason to hope that the Indians would spare his life. This, however, he kept concealed from them, by feigning himself ignorant of the use of the gun, or the art of hunting. They taught him (as they thought) how to shoot and hunt ; they then intrusted him with a gun, which he took care to bring with him. 0 what a poor chance these people had to be religious ! and yet I found some very pious people among them. They could give as clear and Scriptural an account of conviction for sin and conversion as any people. In conversation with some of these Christian hunters, I was told when they were under conviction they could take no game — hunt all day and take nothing. The game was always on the flight before they saw or heard it. The mind was absent, and the eye and ear would not answer the purpose.

From Stortze's we went to Edward West's, where we had a society, and preached regularly.

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This man's first wife was a daughter of John Hacker, Esq. One day while he was from home the Indians came and killed his wife, and scalped her sister Margaret, then a little girl, and left her for dead. Some time after they were gone she came to, and crept into the lap of a tree, where she was found. Margaret was a woman when I saw her, and a member of the society. One day while I was at her father's she showed me her head. The skin on the crown of the head was all taken olf, except a little about the forehead ; and a thin white skin had grown over the place, but no hair. She appeared to enjoy pretty good health. One night I lodged at West's. Toward evening we all went into the house, and barred the door. While at family prayer a great power of darkness fell upon my spirits. I felt as bad for a moment as if the Indians were at the door breaking in. Naturally I never was fearful, but rather the reverse ; but on a few occasions my fears were strongly excited. I preached one day at an old station, as it was called ; the house was inclosed by strong and high pieces of timber set deep into the ground, and close together. They had built a new house outside of the inclosure ; the doors and windows were cut out, and the lower floor laid with loose plank. In this new house they had a bed. After family prayer, I was conducted to that bed to sleep. After committing myself to

God I lay down, but before I got to sleep the dogs 2

BECOLLECTIONS OF raved round the house at a terrible rate, (and there were many of them.) I do not know that I was in danger ; but the Indians having but a little while before been through the country, and done mischief, and this being a frontier house, I did not feel myself secure in my exposed situation. My imagination was set in operation, and I felt uncomfortable, till balmy sleep came to my relief, and drove all my needless fears away.

From West's we went to John Hacker's, on Hacker's Creek. I believe this man could read, but not write ; and yet he was a magistrate and a patriarch in this settlement, and gave name to the creek, having lived here more than twenty years, and raised a large family, and never lost but one by the Indians, and one scalped and left for dead ; and every year when the Indians were troublesome they were in danger. He was a man of good common sense, and, I think, an honest man and a good Christian, and among the first that took in the Methodist preachers. His house had long been a preaching house, and the preachers' home, and also a place of refuge in time of danger. The same gang of Indians that had done the mischief lower down the river came to this settlement, and, within half a mile of Hacker's house, took four children prisoners, all boys, and, it was reported, killed them when they got them in the woods. Brother Sansome, one of the delegates to the General Conference, told me, last spring, that one of the boys had returned to his friends after many years. When this took place I was in the lower part of the circuit, but came to Hacker's a few weeks afterward. I arrived the evening before preaching, and found all the women and children in the neighborhood there, and the poor mother who had lost her children among the rest. I tried to comfort the poor woman, but she was inconsolable, fearing that her children were dead, and neither of them happy. She was a decided Calvinist. They were all glad to see me, but I was rather sorry, and somewhat alarmed, to find them alone, for there was not a man nor even a gun about the place. The men were all in the woods, some hunting, others digging ginseng and snakeroot, and did not come home that night ; so I had to guard and comfort the poor women and children— the house was crowded. Toward sunset we all went into the house, and barred the doors as well as we could. The next day the men came home before preaching. This was truly a solemn meeting to me, as well as to many others. In this place we had a pretty large society, and some very pious people. It is true they had but few books, but they had the Bible, and they read it ; and some had a few other books the preachers had supplied them with.

They lived, in the true sense of the word, in backwoods style. Their sugar they made out of the water from the sugar maple. Their tea they got out of the woods, or from their gardens. For coffee they also had a substitute, namely, rye or chestnuts. Money they had but little. They traded at Winchester, and other places, with ginseng, snakeroot, and skins, for salt, rifles, powder, lead, &c. All their produce was carried to market on pack horses. Their wearing apparel and bedding were mostly their own manufacture. Religion certainly did exert a happy influence on the morals of these uncultivated people, and I was often delighted with their artless simplicity. In their way, they appeared to be as happy and contented as falls to the lot of most people. Taking all things into consideration, our congregations were good ; for people made going to meeting a business, and trifles did not stop them. In the lower part of the circuit the people were more refined in their manners, and also lived more comfortably. On our return from the upper part of the circuit we preached at Ellsworth's. I think that the old brother's name was Moses. At any rate he was the Moses and patriarch of the neighborhood. This worthy family came from Greenbrier, where they embraced religion, and brought it with them as their best treasure.

In this family, and I think while living in their house, Lasley Mathews and Joseph Chiveront both got converted, and began to preach. One was a Frenchman, and fought, I think, under Lafayette, at Yorktown ; the other was an Irish-

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man — both Roman Catholics. By this family father Mathews' two daughters were raised from infants ; neither of them grown up, but both in society, when I was there, the youngest of them the very picture of her father, and also had some of his actions. Many of the old Methodists yet remembered the old saint, who uniformly rose about midnight to pray. I know this to be a fact, having slept in the same room and bed with him for nearly a week.

During this summer my mind was deeply exercised. A sense of the want of grace and gifts for the important work of the ministry rested with such weight upon my mind that I was truly oppressed. To brave dangers, encounter difficulties, and endure hardships, were mere trifles ; but to preach without strong faith, burning zeal, and other necessary qualifications, seemed worse than death to me. In this perplexed state of mind I came to father Ellsworth's, the evening before my appointment. In the morning I retired to the woods, to read, meditate, weep, and pray before the Lord. I mourned my sad condition ; and could not see how it could be that the Lord would employ such a poor, helpless, ignorant creature, as I saw myself to be, in so great a work. I was afraid I had mistaken my call, and was strongly inclined to go home. While upon my knees, it was suggested, Rise, and go to the house, and preach from such a text ; and if you cannot preach, recollectio:j^s of go home. I thought it was from the Lord, and went. I sung, prayed, and read out the text; but never was more in the dark. Indeed, I was so embarrassed that I could say but little ; and still less to the purpose. I felt as if my doom was now fixed, and I might go home. I thought, however, that I would meet the class before I started. I was led to tell some of my exercises to these simple-hearted people, and the conclusion to which I had come ; for hitherto none knew my sorrows. So soon as I began, the whole society burst into tears, and began to pray for me. In a moment the dark cloud broke, and a stream of love, yea, heaven itself, seemed to be poured into my soul ; the enemy was bruised under my feet, my head was lifted up, and my heart was cheered. I felt now, ignorant as I was, willing to go to the ends of the earth, to tell the wonders of redeeming love. The scene is this moment fresh before my mind ; and methinks X yet hear father Ellsworth abusing the devil for attempting to drive their preacher away from them. It is not likely that our better-informed young men have to pass through such exercises. May God bless them, and increase their number abundantly ! Perhaps for me it was necessary, and ultimately worked for good. But if these poor people should have waited till the church sent them educated ministers, such "as the spirit of the age" calls for — " sprightly and talented young men," such as our brother Summers wants in Texas, "and none

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other" — many of them must have perished for lack of such knowledge as even we had to communicate to them. Our first quarterly meeting was held at Martin's Chapel, below Morgantown, August the 17th. We had a very comfortable meeting. My own soul was very much refreshed and encouraged. My part of the quarterage was nine shillings, Pennsylvania money, and a little more I got afterward.