Memoirs of Elder Edmund Botsford

Introduction

The early Founders of the Baptist Churches in the United States were extraordinary men. Though many of them were strangers to the refinements of genteel life, and the polish of literature and science ; though they had not frequented the groves of Academies, nor quaffed the springs of the "Aonian Mount ;" yet they were familiar with

« Zion's hill,

" Fast by the oracle of God. "

Great grace rested upon them. They were < good men, and full of the Holy Ghost and of faith.' They were distintinguished for a boldness and intrepidity of character, for a spirit of holy enteriY INTRODUCTION.

prise, of fearless self-denial, for a measure of zeal, disinterestedness, patience and perseverance, which rendered them preeminently useful, and secured for them a claim to the gratitude, respect and admiration of future ages. If in some respects many of them were rough men, they were suited to the roughness and peril of the times. If in a sense, * they had their raiment of Camel's hair, — and their meat was locusts and wild honey ;' they were also, ' the voice of men crying in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths strait. > Amidst toils, privations, and sufferings, of which we, who live in these days of ease and quietness, can form no adequate conception, did they lay a foundation on which is going up a superstructure of vast size, and fair proportions* They sowed in tears ; but the precious seed now shakes like Lebanon : it has ripened into a glorious harvest, which now waves in golden undulations over many a mountain and plain and valley in the land.

These men of God are no more. They have ascended in chariots of fire to the pre-

INTRODUCTION, Y

sence of the Lord God of Elijah. Their memories are dear; and we, that, have err tered into their labours, should often dwell upon their characters, that we may be inspired with a holy desire to become the followers of these men of God, ^ wbo^ through faith and patience have inherited the promises.' But many precious memorials of these npostolic men were doomed to 6 waste their sweetness on the desert air:' they have long since perished in the forests where they toiled 5 and many lhat still linger upon our sight, are fast fading away in evening's twilight, and will soon be wrapped in impenetrable shades. Whoever, therefore, may succeed in snatching from oblivion any of the still visible memorials of their piety, sufferings and toils, even if it should be done with a rude and unskilful hand, must be considered as conferring an important service on the church.

For the purpose of perpetuating the fragrance of a name deservedly dear, the following pages have been compiled. Mr- Botsford was one of the Fathers of tha Baptisl Church in \meri< Though n

VI INTRODUCTION, a person of great genius, nor extensive learning ; yet he was a man of such sterling integrity and worth, so rich in the experience of divine things, he passed through such an interesting variety of scenes, and aided so considerably in nourishing the infant cause of piety in our land, that the compiler feels fully justified in his present attempt. He has also been encouraged rn the undertaking by the approbation of those, whose judgment he prefers to his own.

Those who cannot patiently peruse the history of a plain, good man; who are pleased with nothing but a masterly delineation of great taienrs and splendid aehievemcnts, may find bat little to interest them in this unpretending volume. But if the learned and critical cannot find entertainment, it is to be hoped, that these pages may tend somewhat to amuse, edify and instruct, christians of a plainer stamp and humbler temper To the surviving relatives and acquaintances of Mr. Botsford, the compiler flatter? himself that he has rendered an acceptable service. This 'ittle volume may serve to revive their

INTRODUCTION. Vlt

fading recollections of one, who was clear (o them whilst living, and whose memory is still cherished with the most affectionate veneration.

To the young it is hoped that these pages will he found entertaining and useful* The subject of this biographical sketch delighted to communicate instruction to the young ; and it is proper to state, that one important motive which induced the compiler to send forth this work, was, that Mr. Botsford, though dead, mi^ht speak for the entertainment and instruction of that class, for whom, when living, he felt much concern.

The compiler has been much assisted, particularly as to facts and dates connected with the early part of Mr, Botsford's life, by some brief and hasty Memoirs, which he wrote of himself in the year 1807. Some of their pages have been incorporated in this work; more would have been presented in the author's own words, but for the imperfect state of the manuscript. Many particulars have been collected from Mr. Botsford's surviving friends, from his letters, and several other sources. The

Vlil INTRODUCTION.

reader will not find a great variety of incidents embodied in the narrative of his latter days; but for this, an equivalent w ; ll be found in copious extracts from his interesting correspondence.

The work would have been better done by better hands ; but the compiler flatters himself, that its imperfections will not be found so numerous, as to prevent entirely its usefulness; especially as Mr. BotsiorcJ is allowed, as far as practicable, to speak for himself.

The compiler now commends himself, the work, and the reader, to the care of Almighty God; beseeching him to dispose of all as shall best accord with his righteous will, and best promote his divine glory.

CONTENTS,

Page.

Introduction, - * - - iii

CHAPTER h

Mr. Botsford's birth — Early religious impressions- Youthful adventures— Embarks for America, IS

CHAPTER IT.

Mr. Botsford arrives in Charleston — His conversion — Commences learning a trade — Enters on his studies preparatory to the ministry, - 27

CHAPTER 111.

Mr. Botsford is licensed to preach— -Visits Georgia, and labors with acceptance — Anecdotes— Ordination- — Anecdote — Church constituted — Marries and settles on Brier Creek — Poetry — War rages, and he escapes to South -Carolina, - - 38

CHAPTER IV,

Mr. Botsford finds a refuse — Baptists patriotic He joins the army as Chaplain — Anecdotes — Rn-

X STENTS.

to Pedeeford lets offio sea~ch of him — They meet in North

Caro ioa After a sh:rt residence in Virginia,

tbev return to Pedee, - . 52

CHAPTER V.

Mr. Bots f ord fakes the pastoral charge of the Welsh Neck Church — Applies himself to study — Pays «ev eaten, and iabors w lb sae-

cess — Incorporation — Mrs. Botsford die- — A rei second wife— She dies — Removes to Georgetown, ... - 60

CHAPTER VI.

Various afflictions— Eye complaint — Visits ^;w-

Engiand— Lette.s to Mr. and Mrs. Evans, - 7$

CHAPTER VII.

Letters— Death of his son-in-law— Reviral — Letters

to Mr. Ingiesb^ — Conversion and death of his son, 94

CHAPTER VIII.

Some- accent of his writings, with extracts from the

CHAPTER IX.

Ex.- Letters, - - - - ISO

CB X.

Extracts from his Letter? condoned, - - r 151

CHAPTER XT.

Extracts Ba% - * 1"2

CONTENTS. XI

CHAPTER XII.

Extracts from his Letters continued, • 194

CHAPTER XIII.

Miscellaneous particulars — His death — Character by Dr. Furman, ~ - ' - >• -. . .- - 215 mSMOZES

OP

ELDER, EDMUND BOTSFORD

Chapter I

Jflr Botsford'' s birth — Early religious impressions—* Youtkjid adventures — Embarks for America.

Edmund Botsford, the second son of Edmund and Mary Botsford, was born on the 1st of November. 1745, in the Town of Wooburn, Bedfordshire, England. His father was reputably employed, for many years, as a Grocer and Ironmonger, and at one time was considered wealthy ; but having expended large sums of money to assist an unworthy brother, who had brought himself into distress by his imprudence and wickedness, he was reduced to poverty. Shortly after this, he was removed :rom time : Mrs. Botsford, a pious, godly woman, soon followed her husband, and their children were consequently left in a >tate of peculiar embarrassment. They left behind them three orphan children. William, the eldest, was eighteen years of age at the death of his patents : he V/as a discreet, sober youth. He followed the 2

14 MEMOIRS OF BOTSFORfc*

occupation of his father, was successful in business, and at his death (being then about loi ty years of age) he left a part of his estate to his brother Edmund, the subject of this narrative. His only sister was but five years of age at the death of her parents. She was brought up by one of her maternal uncles, afterwards married a Mr. IHnton, was ihe mother of several children, and (inally died the death of the righteous. Edmund was left an orphan at seven, a tender helpless age ; but that God who is "the helper of the fatherless," provided for him. He providentially came under the care of Mrs. Osborn, an aunt of his ; a circumstance, which was regarded by some «f his pious friends, as a special answer to his mother's prayers That he might enjoy the advantages of a school, M;s Osborn sent hira to board with a Mrs Barnes, who had been an intimate acquaintance of his mother's, and was an eminently pious woman In the family ol thi$ excellent female, he was treated with the great-* est kindness, and enjoyed the benefits of religious instruction and example. Through all his subsc quent life, Mr. Botsford cherished, with peculiar fondness, the memory of ;; the good Mrs. Barnes," and dwelt with lively interest and gratitude on the precious privileges, which he enjoyed in her hos* pitahb- dwelling.

Whilst living with Mrs. Barnes, he regularly attended meeting with the rest of the family at a Baptist Church, about two miles from Wooburn. The sermons which he heard made a deep irn* pression on his memory, which was naturally retentive, and he would not unfrequently entertain the company, on their return from worship, by repeating the most prominent parts of the minister's discourse. Buny tin's Pilgrim, and Holy War, afforded him much entertainment; several parts

MEMOIRS OP EOTSFORt). 15

of these interesting works he committed to mem-* ory as well as some of Watts' Hymns for Children, and many chapters in the Bible. " From my earliest childhood," says Mr. Botsford, M I bad a sjreat desire to be a minister. Even before the death of my parents, I would frequently go privately into the dining room, and put on an apron and black cloak of m\ mother's, as substitutes for surplice and gown ; then 1 would mount the high chair, on which I used to sit when at meals, and harangue my little play-fello v$."

Whilst quite young, Mr Botsford was the subject of frequent religious impressions. His convictions were much deepened by an extraordinary dream, which he had in the eighth or ninth year of his age. It was of such an uncommon character, that I cannot forbear presenting it to the reader, in the words of Mr. Botsford. wt I dreamed I was on a hill in the Duke of Bedford's park, called Priest Hill. I thought the sky had a very uncommon and awful appearance. Looking round and upward, I discovered something at a great height, descending slowly towards the place where I stood. When it drew near, it appeared to be> a transparent chariot, clear as crystal : in it was Jesus Christ, sitting in a very majestic attitude, yet his looks were mildness and love. Behind the chariot was a person clothed in white shining raiment, and in his hand something like a spear with a long thin blade. I thought the Lord called me by name, ' Edmund.' I went to him ; he gave* me a large sword, bright as the light, and asked me if I could read what was written on the blade. I said the words were, c Right Jerusalem Blade/ I thought it was the sword mentioned in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. Christ then said that we should have many and terrible enemies to encounter that we must not step nor look backwards,,

16 MEMOIRS OP BOTSFORfr.

and that when we made a stroke, we must cry* out, c In the name of the Lord we will destroy thee.' If at any time our strength failed, we must look to the chariot, and our strength would return ; and whenever we saw the person behind the chariot waive the weapon he had in his hand, we must begin the battle. The chariot then, in a very majestic manner, ascended pretty high. I now found myself with several of my school-fellows, one of whom I was very intimate with, William But field. I perceived that all of them bad such swords as myself, and the directions given were for them, as well as for myself. I presently saw an army of men advancing towards us ; but such monsters of men I had never seen in my life: some very large and tall, some with noses as long as rny arm, some with heads as big as a bushel. We now looked at the chariot, and became men ; and our swords, which we could hardly lift when first given us, we could now wield with ease. When these frightful creatures advanced within a few steps of us, we all, as one man, sprang on them, and cried out as loud as we possibly could, € In the name of the Lord we will destroy thee.' I remember the voice seemed as one, and sounded round the hill in a most sonorous and delightful manner. A most dreadful battle ensued ; we but a handful, and they thousands ; but in a few hours we cut them all down, and I remember I felt as though I could kill as many more. I was surprised to see amongst us one boy, who was very wicked: I wondered the Lord should have given him a sword. In a short time, a second numerous army came marching from the same place whence the first advanced. These all appeared stout men, but not deformed. As they drew near, they appeared very fierce, and we felt dejected, till one of the company mentioned the chariot ; we looked

MEMOIRS 07 BOTSFOR-D. IT

up to it, and felt ourselves men, and crying out with great vehemence, l In the name of the Lord wo will destroy thee,' we began the battle. These men fought like lions ; the battle was long, but in the end we slew every one, heaps upon heaps, like the dung in the field. When we had obtained the victory, I remember that 1 felt as though covered with dust, and sweat, and blood ; and yet my heart within me was stoat. Before* we were well rested, a third army presented themselves, to revenge the blood of those we had slain. As they drew near, I looked up to tht> chariot, which was now very high, and whilst I was gazing at it, I felt such pleasure as I cannot describe. I observed the person behind the chariot waive the weapon he held in his hand ; I understood the meaning very well, but I was so happy, that I felt unwilling to return again to the charge. However, turning my head, I discovered the enemy so close, that we could only punch them in the face with the hilt of the sword, till we made room to take a full stroke ; for we were not allowed to step backwards. Then we cried out as before, c In the name of the Lord we will destroy thee.' The combat was furious, far more so than the two preceding ones. At length, on j of the strongest threw me flat on my back, and my sword flew out of my hand. I saw the chariot, and just as the man was about to despatch me, I made a hard struggle and regained my sword ; aud crying out, 4 Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy, when I fall I shall rise again, 7 1 gave a spring, and slew my adversary. To my surprise, this was the last man, and the battle was over. lit the mean time, the chariot descended as at the first, and the Lord called, l Edmund.' I went to the side of the chariot, and how pleasant I thought the Lord looked ! lie now held a sword in one hand, and with the other wiped it up ami down, and said three times, ' Keep your sword bright,' and then added, 'You have many more enemies to encounter ; I am going up with the chariot, which will leave a streak of light to your view. "When your strength fails you, look to that light, and it will be renewed ; and when you have conquered all your enemies, I will come- down with this chariot and carry you to heaven.' The chariot then ascended till it appeared exceeding small, and then a streak of light darted from it, and came down to the earth. After several efforts, I got my face into the light, which shone so bright, that I awoke. I was in a profuse sweat, and felt as weary as though I had really acted what I dreamed. As soon as I arose, I related my dream to Mrs. Barnes. ' Edmund,' said she, 'you will be a minister of the gospel."

Dreams-, it must be acknowledged, are generally vain and frivolous things ; but it cannot be denied that the one above related was somewhat extraordinary, especially when viewed in connection with subsequent events. It was not a little singular that several years after Mr. Botsford had engaged in the ministry, he received a letter from the same William Butfield, mentioned in the dream, from which be learnt that he had become a minister of the gospel. He afterwards received a printed sermon from England, which was preached at the ordination of a Mr. Faulkner, Tvho, it appears, was the successor of Mr. Butfield in the pastoral office in a church in Thorn, Bedfordshire. It was also stated, that Mr. Botfield died of the small pox, in the year 1776.

Mr. Botsford professes to have been much impressed with the conversation of a pious old lady 1>y the name of Leaper, who happened to pay a •visit to Mrs. Barnes^ aoout the time of which we are now speaking. " I was very Fond of her," says fee, Ci as I thought she was a very holy woman; and as she was old, I thought she would soon be in heaven. She frequently calked to me about heaven, death and judgment. One night, Mrs. Barnes and she sat up very late, conversing about heaven, the company, the employment, and happiness of that holy place. That night was a night of wonders to me. i seemed to understand all they conversed about. I never before was so affected. 0, I thought what an unspeakable happy place must heaven be, if all the people there were like these godly women. I thought I could endure any thing while on earth, if I might, at last go to heaven and be with such people, who so much loved Christ. Many a time since, in the midst of all my sin, a remembrance of my feelings that night, would bring tears into my eyes ; and sometimes I felt a secret hope that I should become a good man, and at last be happy with these good women."

Young Botsford continued to reside with Mrs. Barnes, and to attend a school in the same town, until he was about twelve years of ag'^. After he left the family of this pious lady, untij the last two years which he spent in England, to use his own words, " he played many mad pranks." His conduct appears to have been such, as to give great offence to his friends ; and at one time they all seemed to have cast him off, except his faithful and well tried friend, " the good Mrs. Barnes." " She, good woman," says Mr. Botsford, "never did. She would often lament my situation, and give me good advice ; and at a certain time, when I had no place which 1 could call home, no relative, nor friend that would notice me, she took me in and was a mother to me. She had a singular regard for my mother ; and the remarkable dream I bad when young, so impressed her mind id my favour, that she could not give me up, but would still continue to hope for the best "

Mr. Botsford, at one time, seemed to have had a strong desire for a sea-faring life ; " not," says he, " to fight, but to see the world." His mind received a bias in this direction from a trifling incident, which he thus relates. " It was common for children to try their fortunes, as it is called, by melting lead and pouring it into water. One day, several of us procured borne lead, in order to melt for the above purpose. When my turn came, I poured out my lead in such a hurry, thai I spilled it beside the cup of water on the floor, and behold ! it was almost as much like a ship, as though it had been poured into a mould. From that accident, myself and playfellows always concluded, that I should certainly go to sea. As there was no appearance of guns, I was to go on a trading voyage. About this time," Mr. Botsford adds, u our friends used to talk much about America, and I frequently felt as certain that I should go there, as if I had already engaged my passage." This little incident, though apparently so trifling and unimportant, seems to have had no small influence in giving a direction to his future life. What insignificant events may shape the characters, and influence the destinies of man.

Impelled by his strong thirst for going to sea, he set off at a certain time, on foot and alone, for London. It does not appear at what age this occurred, but it must have been when he was quite young. To lighten, as much as possible, the fatigue of his journey, he would occasionally lay hold of carriages as they passed, and run along behind them several miles. At night he found himself twenty four miles from home. And what now was young Botsford to do ? He was afraid to call

JIEM0IRS OF BOTSFORD. 21

at an inn for lodgings, and the idea of sleeping un* der a hedge was not very agreeable; however, as th<* night was pleasant, he finally resolved oa the latter expedient Passing over a stile, he approached a hedge that was near, but as he was about to lie down, he was all at once, annoyed With a nauseous stench, which seemed to proceed from something like a dead corpse. This induced him to proceed further, until he supposed himself beyond the reach of the offensive object ; he then laid himself down and slept till sunrise. But what was his supprise, when, on awaking, he found himself quite near a human body which was suspended in chains from a gibbet. " Never m my life," says Mr. Botsford, "was I so much frightened." He did not stand long to gaze at the frightful corpse ; neither did he think it propel* to pursue his journey. He hastened back as fast as he could, assuring himself that he was in a fair way of coming to a similar end. He now abandoned for a time, the idea " of travelling to see the world."

His mind, however, was still unsettled. Being disappointed in his maritime adventure, he must needs make experiment of the charms and toils of a soldier's life : so off he goes to join the army. It was this " mad pranks" which gave peculiar offence to his friends. There was war with France, and great preparations were making to repel an expected invasion. The regiment, to which young Botsford belonged, was marched into Scotland ; there it was separated into three divisions, and the one to which he was attached, was sent to Dundee, afterwards to Aberdeen It would seem that he had not been long in the ranks, before an officer, who took a liking to Botsford, selected him for his waiting-man. l>v this change, he was exempted from military duty, and lived well ; but he had

22 MEMOIRS OP BDTSFORB.

enough to do, however, to keep him busy, tfe cleaned shoes, knives and forks, was frequently employed as a cook, and in short, attended to all kinds of household and kitchen drudgery, except washing. But whilst at Aberdeen, the officer on whom he waited, was stationed at another place, and in consequence of this, he was again thrown back into the ranks, and compelled to attend to the duties of a common soldier. — On two occasions, he very narrowly escaped severe correction Once, whilst stationed as a sentinel, he was found asleep at his post : for this short nap, he expected nothing less than 500 lashes ; but the corporal very kindly neglected his duty and did not report him, so poor Botsford escaped. At another time, he overslept himself, and w r as too late at parade. For this offence, he was put under guard ; but promising to be attentive In future, his lieutenant dismissed him without inflicting any further punishment. " These escapes, 55 says Mr, Botsford, u had a better effect on ine, than a flogging had on many, or perhaps would have had on myself."

The army was at length disbanded, and young Botsford once more sets his face towards home. cc Home!" says he, " alas, I had no-home ; nor did I know that I had a friend in the world. I, however, travelled for Mrs. Barnes' : I thought that she, if any body, would show me kindness." On his way to Mrs. Barnes', some very affecting incidents occurred, which are thus related by Mr. Botsford. " I called at a house, in which was a gentleman, a Doctor, w T ho seemed to eye in e very steadily for some time. At length, he asked my name. On my telling him, he could scarcely refrain from tears, as it reminded him of my parents, * Is it possible,' said he, 4 that this can be Edmund Botsford, whom I so often carried in my arms <

MEMOIRS OF BOTSFORB. 23

What would be the feelings of your parents, if they knew that you were a foot-soMier ! young man, I am sorry for you ; you must have behaved yourself badly indeed, or.your friends would never have suffered you to remain in this station.' I replied, that I had been foolish and wild, but that 1 bad paid for my folly, and was now returning to be sober and orderly. He gave me good advice, and also some money to help me on my journey ; but one day, meeting a townsman of mine, who was anxious to show his good will to me, he caused me to drink too freely ; a vice, however, that I very rarely feel into. After I parted with him, 1 sat down by the side jf the road, and at length fell asleep. When I awoke, I found I had been robbed of my money, yid some of my shirts. I was now sixty or seventy miles from home, and all I had to live upon was one penny and a half. 5 '

Poor Edmund ! his condition was now pitiable indei d. Friendless, moneyless, and almost shirt- Jess ; on foot, alone, and no doubt burdened with self-reproaches for his past follies, and perhaps with fears that the "good Mrs. Barnes," whose kindness he had so often abused, would not show pity to the returning prodigal. And here as I pass along, I cannot avoid recording my solemn protest against that most idle and pernicious practice of treating friends 44 to show our good will." The awful wo of inspiration should ring in our ears, as we reach out the accursed token of friendship; 14 VVo unto him that giveth his neighbour drink, that puttest ihy bottle to him, and paakest him drunken also." When will friends cease to destroy one another by this murderous civility !

" So 1 returned to Mrs. Raines," says Mr. Botsford, lt as poor as I could be. She, good woman, was glad tos< e me, as were all the family.' 1 Through the influence of this inflexible friend,

Mr. Botsford found employment in the family of a Mr. Shelby, which he says was kk a good place. " H^ was employed as a groom in the gentleman's hunting stcible, and he would probably have continued longer at Mr. Shelby's, had he not been so severely bUten by an unruly horse, as to endanger his lite. u At this place," he observes, " I was much troubled about my soul." At the expiration of the year, he left his employer ; but such had been his behaviour, that he had retrieved, in a good degree, his character, regained the good will of his friends, and was enabled to procure from Mr. fchelby a recommendation to another reputable place, "' which suited his turn much better." His second employer was a Mr. Freeman, who resided in Wooburn.^ " My pride," says he, " was so much humbled, uiat I cheerfully served in my native town." He now lived near Mrs. Barnes, who continued to show him much affection and kindness, and gave him good counsel. By shunning bad company, and attending with great fidelity to his various duties, he became more and more respected and esteemed by his friends : 4 indeed," says he, u I was esteemed by every body." He informs us. that he now had an opportunity of seeing something of high life, as he frequently attended his master do his visits to several of the nobility. Indeed, Mr. Botsford, the waiting-man, seems, by his good behaviour, to have established for hiuaself a kind of kitchen nobility. u My hands," says he M were now full ; I never had a servant that ever did half the work that I did, while I lived at Captain Freeman's. I was remarked for three things, viz, sobriety, being a fine shoe black, and keeping sharp an4 clean knives.