Life of Knowles Shaw, the singing evangelist

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

XjIF^ of ! ■

THE

Chapter I

Birth and Parentage — Removal to Indiana — State of Society — A Disaster — Death of his Father — His Legacy — A Famous Fiddler— Jack of all Trades — Sowing Wild' Oats,

Knowles Shaw was born in Butler County, Ohio, on the 13th of October, 1834. His father, Albin Shaw, and mother, whose maiden name was Huldah Griffin, were of Scotch descent. A few weeks after the birth of Knowles, their first child, they removed to Rush County, Indiana. That portion of the State was at that time a new settlement ; indeed the whole State was then regarded as being **out West/* The population was a poor but hardy class of people, but, as the sequel has proved, possessing the elements necessary for growth and prosperity. The extent of this growth since the time of which we write is indeed marvelous; from a forest it has become a fruitful field; from a new country, destitute of nearly all the comforts and blessings of civilized life, it has become, within the memory of those yet living, dotted over with large towns and cities, alive with busy trade and the hum of manufactories, while its railways, like the arms of a giant, gather the products of all the lands between the oceans. Its advancement in mental and moral culture has kept pace with its material prosperity; the change from the almost unbroken forest to the cultivated farm has not been greater than that from the scanty, as well as rude facilities for instruction to those of every grade now so abundant, from the everywhere present common school to the university, rich in all the appliances of scientific and classic learning.

The parents of the subject of our story belonged to the humble hard-working class, which form the chief element of all new settlements, and his early days were spent amid the hardships and privations inseparable from a pioneer life. What he was in after life was not on account of any favorable surroundings in his earlier years, for the early settlers in this then new country had too hard a struggle in subduing the forest and gaining a scanty subsistence to pay much attention to either moral or intellectual culture. The means and helps to such improvements, as in all new localities, were either wanting or of the rudest description, nor were the schoolmasters and preachers of the time wholly unsuited to the somewhat unsightly buildings in which the elements of learning and religion were taught. During the summer and fall, religious meetings were often held under the shade of the beeches, or in a grove of tall shapely sugar-trees, the hearers finding natural seats on fallen trees, or on the green sward — usually, however, the rude log building; with its puncheon floor, clapboard roof, openings for windows, admitting at the same time light and air, and benches with unsteady legs and without backs ; which during the portions of the year that could not be profitably employed in out-door labor was used as a school-house, served as a church as often as some John the Baptist of a brighter dispensation not far distant was found to call the people to repentance or point them to a land, which to all seemed a better land because it was a land of rest.

In bad weather the leaky roof and open crannies, which permitted the cold blast to enter too freely, was a great cause of discomfort, and as stoves had not come into general use their place was sometimes supplied by huge iron sugar-kettles, in which charcoal fires were kept burning, making it more than warm enough for those who sat near them, while those more remote were often pinched with cold. Both heat and cold, however, were endured without complaint, for preaching was uncommon enough to be a luxury, no matter how cold or hot the house might be ; and there are those yet who go back in fond memory to those days, and think that heaven seemed nearer then, with only a roof that could not keep out the rain, than now, with frescoed ceilings, cushioned seats, light softened by stained glass, spire pointing heavenward, and the bell calling all to the house of prayer.

It was in this very region that Edward Eggleston laid the scene and found much of his material for the **Hoosier Schoolmaster/' and **The End of the World'' — novels and romances we call them — but many of the scenes are drawn from real life in Southeastern Indiana, less than forty years ago. The writer of these pages spent several days at a Millerite campmeeting in that region in the summer of 1843, when the ** End of the World, " the second coming of Christ, was looked for daily, nay hourly, and heard from the lips of those who were waiting and wishing for the coming of the Son of Man in the clouds of heaven, the wonderful dreams they had, and the strange portents written on the face of the midnight sky, which assured them beyond all doubt that the day of the Lord was at hand. The stirring exhortations and the sweet songs, which woke the forest echoes ever and anon during the night-watches, and which welcomed each dawn which might be the dawn of the last day of time, are still fresh in my memory, and the glad hopes of those who had given up all earthly interests in full assurance that the time was at hand, and the fears of those not fully convinced and wholly unprepared for such an event, made an impression on my mind of which none but those who mingled in those scenes can form the slightest conception.

It was not far from this locality that young Shaw, then a boy of some nine or ten years of age, was then living. His lot in life, as already intimated, was a lowly one : toil and privation came as soon as he was able to endure the one and feel the other. Nothing in his horizon seemed hopeful, nothing to indicate that he would be known beyond the very narrow circle in which he moved. A heart here and there among companions as humble as himself he might bind to his own in friendship or love, but beyond this nothing but a toiler and plodder, who would soon leave as little trace of himself in the great world around as the traveler whose footprints on the sea-shore are effaced by the first returning tide. In the meantime two other children, a boy and girl, had been added to the family, making greater the demands upon the labors of the father, which were freely given — for children are even more welcome in the cottage of the poor than the abode of wealth and luxury — in the former case being the greatest and almost only joy.

Albin Shaw loved his children, and made every effort in an honorable way to secure for them such advantages as would fit them for usefulness in after life, or to leave them and their mother a competency in the event of his being early called away. To this end he labored with his hands, as farmer and tanner, traded in cattle at one time, and finally engaged in selling goods in a small village in Rush County. He would sometimes collect the three children around him and prognosticate their future by examining their heads. That of his oldest son was a puzzle to him : his conclusion was that he would make a terrible bad man or a very good one ; that whatever he did he would do with all his might.

Knowles, though but a child, was always busy, and one of his early inventions came near proving a serious disaster. Like most boys he was fond of fire-arms; he made a wooden gun and loaded it, but all his efforis to make it go off were in vain. As a last resort he dropped a coal of fire into the muzzle, which produced the desired effect sooner than he expected, and his face was severely burned. Smarting with pain he got a coarse towel and rubbed off the blistered skin, to escape, as he afterward explained, being powder-marked. It is needless to say that this was an end to experiments in that direction.

But a sad and unlooked for calamity was at hand. The father, the bread-winner of the family, was taken sick, soon became worse, and one day feeling that the end was near, had Knowles called to his bed-side to give him his parting words. They were few and brief — little more than, "My son, be good to your mother, "and, ^'Prepare to meet your God." His last gift was a violin, which had often been a solace to him in his life of toil, and soon after the weary toiler closed his eyes on what had been a world of toil and care to open them on earth no more.

This event to the family was a great calamity, making their hard lot harder still, and brought upon young Shaw, then about twelve years of age, cares and responsibilities unknown before. Boy as h^ was, he strove to make his mother's burden Hghter, and labored to the full extent of his ability to aid her in raising her dependent family. He grew to be a stout, hearty youth, able when but a boy in years to do a man's work ; and this he did not only without complaint, but cheerfully, showing that the dying father's words, **Be good to your mother,'* had not been forgotten. Nor did he forget his father's legacy, the old violin. From infancy music had been a passion ; and now all his spare moments, when the toils of the day were over, were devoted to his father's gift, and he soon was able to play upon it with the ease and skill known only to a born musician. A talent like this could not be kept secret. The neighbors would often drop in to see the widow Shaw, but never left until Knowles had been called on for a tune — one only paved the way for another, and the evening would wear into night before the listeners were aware how the hours had sped by. It soon came to pass that he was invited to play at other places than at home ; and in a short time no social gathering or merry-making of any kind was complete unless enlivened by the merry strains of his violin.

But under all this there lurked a great danger; and when the circumstances are known there is little cause for wonder that he fell into the snare. One of the greatest evils of the times of which we write was intemperance. At all gatherings in a new settlement, no matter what the object might be, whisky seemed a necessity. A poHtical gathering without this stimulant to patriotism was unknown ; the candidate for office who was not wilHng to treat those whose votes he sought was very likely to obtain but few on election day, while he who furnished a good supply of the ardent did not lack a goodly number of ardent supporters. The harvest could not be gathered without liquor; a house or barn-raising, or corn-husking, generally ended in a drunken revel. At weddings and all merry-makings liquor was used without stint, and it was not even banished from funerals, for it seemed to possess the power of exciting mirth and assuaging the bitterness of grief. Large religious meetings were not entirely free from its presence, and if a preacher indulged in a little, he was thought none the less devout on that account. Whisky was indispensable at the meeting of friends, and a little was also deemed necessary at parting, and to refuse the proffered glass was a species of rudeness almost unheard of.

Brought up amid such surroundings it is not to be wondered at that young Shaw, who was of a social, lively and excitable temperament, should soon acquire a taste for strong drink. He was the life of every social gathering, a favorite especially with the young, his musical skill the admiration of the whole settlement, and it is not to be wondered at that he was often the soul of the revel and the gayest of the gay. Hundreds of young people in those days danced to his music; every year witnessed an increase of his skill, and with it was an increased demand for his presence and services. He sang a good song, had quite a vein of mimicry, and, though rude and unpolished, he seemed less so from his constant mingling in society than many of his rude companions, and, it must be added, came near being drawn into the vortex of dissipation beyond the power of successful resistance. In addition to what we have said above, there was another feature in the course he was pursuing that had a great tendency to keep and confirm him in it. His musical talent had become a source of profit. At every gathering where his services were in demand a sum of money, sometimes quite a handsome one, was the reward of his skill. This money he never wasted. He remembered well the injunction of his dying father: "Be good to your mother;" and into her hands went nearly all his gains. Even up to this period, when he was rapidly changing from boyhood to manhood, he seems to have thought of no higher career than that into which he had insensibly drifted. No one dreamed of him being very much different from what he was, and he had no higher ambition than that of being a good fellow and the best fiddler in the settlement.

Though content with this he had abilities in other directions ; none, however, so marked, or in such demand as his talent for music. In other respects many of his companions were his equals, but in music he bore away the palm. His father, as we have seen, was merchant, stock-dealer, tanner, farmer, and also possessed of some musical taste and skill. In this ability to turn his hand to almost anything his son not only resembled, but greatly excelled him. He learned to make shoes in a single week, made grain-cradles for the neighbors, was a carpenter, plasterer, and on one occasion greatly astonished a watchmaker from whom he obtained permission to use his tools, by taking his watch to pieces, cleaning it, and putting it together again in good order, as if cleaning a watch were an every-day affair with him. He knew so many things from the habit of close observation that he had cultivated, that one of the neighbors quaintly expressed the general sentiment in regard to him by saying that * * Knowles Shawns head was like a tar-bucket, for everything that touched it stuck to it.''

After he grew older he spent a short time as a clerk in a store, taught school several terms, and having at one time fallen in with a teacher who professed to be able to give instructions in Greek and Latin, he became a pupil, and in one month learned all his teacher knew. Whether this was due to the aptness of the pupil, or to the meager attainments of the teacher, tradition does not inform us. But we are anticipating the order of events, and must resume the thread of our narrative.

He was now nearly eighteen years of age, a man in size, tall, angular, somewhat awkward, but kindhearted, good-tempered, and industrious, which rendered him a general favorite.

As far as book-learning was concerned, he was extremely deficient. The few facilities for improvement that might have been used he was obliged to neglect, in order to meet the demands made upon him by the family, which regarded him as their chief dependence. To labpr for them seemed a pleasure, as well as a duty, and the self-denial he had to practice in order to provide for them was cheerfully endured.

It will not surprise the reader, in view of what has been said in regard to the company he kept and the habits he had learned, that he did not seem to be religiously inclined. His position to Christianity, however, was rather that of neglect and indifference than of dislike and opposition. The gay and thoughtless were his companions. Like himself, many of them were ** sowing their wild oats, " without stopping to ask the question, What shall the harvest be? And nothing doubtless, at this period, would have seemed more improbable to him and all who knew him than that he should become a Christian, and also a preacher of that faith to others.

Previous to this time the movement called the

Reformation, but more generally known as ''Camp-

bellism," had made considerable progress in Rush

County, being advocated with great zeal and ability

by several preachers whose names have long been

household words, not only in that locality but all 2 over the State and throughout the West — such as B. Franklin, H. R. Pritchard, B. K. Smith, and George Campbell. Several churches had been organized, and, among others, one known as the Flat Rock congregation, in the neighborhood where young Shaw was living.

The views of the new religious party of course had given rise to much discussion, and the controversial discourses of the ministers of other bodies, who disputed its claims, and those of that body, in turn in defense, gave more than usual interest to the preaching of that period, especially when a man of more than ordinary ability from either party w^as to hold forth. On such occasions large crowds were wont to assemble, and among them the young fiddler, not from any special interest, perhaps, in the subject under discussion, but because everybody was there.

CHAPTER 11.

Sudden Change — Scene in a Bali-Room — Mental Conflict — Battle with the Devil — His Baptis?n — Thirst for Knowledge — Marriage — Decides to be a Preacher,

But a nature like his was not to run wild and to waste ; a nobler career than that of ministering to the pleasures of the thoughtless and mirth-loving was soon to open before him ; instead of being the leader in every scene of gayety and folly, he was soon to enter upon a life of lofty purpose and toil, and to turn the feet of thousands into the way of righteousness and peace.

This great change in the current of his thoughts and life was sudden, and had a strange beginning. One night he was playing the violin for a large company of dancers, and in that most unlikely of all places for serious thought, there came into his mind the dying advice of his father, in the impressive words of the prophet: ** Prepare to meet thy God.'' They came unbidden ; they forced themselves upon him with a power that he could not resist; they seemed to him not only a voice from the grave but a message from heaven. Still the dance went on ; but the gayer the crowd became, the sadder grew the heart of the player, whose mirthful strains were at such variance with the solemn thoughts with which his mind was occupied.

A young lady observing the sadness of his look, and the abstraction of his manner, approached him and said: *'Knowly, what is the matter?" He told without reserve the state of his mind ; and it was with strange feelings that she resumed her place through the set, to music which she knew mocked the feelings of the sad-hearted player. The dance ceased ; another set was formed, and all were waiting for the music to begin. To the astonishment of all, Shaw, in response to the call to ''strike up,*' said he could not play any more. A dozen voices called on him to begin, when he gravely walked out into the middle of the floor and told all that had been passing through his mind; told of his father's dying words, neglected till then, and expressed his determination never to play for another dance. He expressed regret for his past course of life; that it was not such as it should have been ; that it might do if this life were all; but in view of the life to come, he must pursue another course. He then asked the company, about forty in all, to promise that they would throw no hindrance in the way of his attempt to lead a new life. His sadness, manliness, and earnestness reached their hearts. They gave the promise he asked ; and to their honor be it said, they not only kept it, but some of them even gave him help and encouragement to keep the resolve which under such strange surroundings he had made. This proved to be no passing fancy; it was the turning point in his life; and to the life which he had been leading he never from that hour longingly looked back.

It must be remembered that this was the act of a somewhat rough and uneducated country boy, but only the nobler and more remarkable on that account. It displayed a moral courage, heroic as well as rare, and showed the awakening of a great soul to the solemn duties and responsibiHties of life.

In a mood far different from his usual one on leaving such scenes of festivity, he reached his home "that night, and found his mother sitting up for him. But his manner was greatly changed ; instead of a lively description of the great dancing party, and imitations^of the various characters there, which his talent for mimicry often led him to indulge in, he was silent and thoughtful. He asked for a bowl of bread and milk, and when he had eaten asked for a blanket, and wrapped in this he passed the night on the floor. For several days he ate nothing but a little bread and milk, and spent the nights on the floor, wrapped in his blanket. During this time he seldom closed his eyes, and was evidently passing through a severe mental conflict. To his mother's frequent entreaties to tell her his trouble, he made reply that he was having a battle with the devil.

All the difficulties of the course he had entered upon came vividly before him ; the possibility of the family suffering for lack of the help his violin had enabled him to afford them ; the difficulty of providing for them by manual labor; the power of appetite to which he had yielded ; the associations which he had formed which must be broken, made those sleepless nights seem long and terrible. Any thought of yielding he regarded as the whispering of the devil; he struggled on and was victorious.

He now began to attend the services at the Flat Rock Church with a feeling and purpose far different from that which had taken him there before ; the clear scriptural views presented were like light from heaven to one who had long walked in darkness; and after a sermon from Gabriel McDuffie, and an exhortation by Elder George Campbell, he publicly confessed his faith in Jesus Christ, and was immersed by George Thomas, the elder of the church, on the 13th of September, 1852.

What a treasure now would be a full report of the doings of that bright autumn day ; the discourse of * 'Uncle Gabriel," as the preacher was affectionately called ; the exhortation of George Campbell, a Boanerges in zeal, and rising, as many still remember, when calling sinners to repentance, to the highest degree of tender and pathetic entreaty; the company gathered on the banks of the stream ; the words of prayer at the administration of the solemn rite ; the sweet song at the close, and the serene joy of the young convert, in the assurance that he was Christ's, and that Christ was his. All this must be left to the imagination. But one thing is certain : that there would have been even a deeper feeling and an intenser joy could the godly men who took part in the doings of that day have foreseen the multitudes the young convert should bring to the Master's feet. As it was, to young Shaw it was a day never to be forgotten. From that hour, life had to him a new meaning ; it was no longer to be a mere struggle for the bread that perishes, but an endeavor for a better life beyond the present — a race in which an immortal crown might be won.

Many predicted that he would soon be as careless and jolly as ever; and when they observed the attention paid him by Uncle Gabriel McDuffie, under whose ministry he had been converted, and who strove to help and encourage him all in his power, they said, with a sneering smile: **The old man is wasting his time on Shaw; he'll soon be back in the ball-room, fiddling as lively as ever." This came to Shaw's ears, and he said that he hoped to prove himself worthy of the old brother's attention and care ; he conducted himself toward him as a son in the gospel, and it cheered the old man's heart to find that the seed he had sown was not in vain.

He now felt more painfully than ever his lack of education, and at once set about to remedy that defect. In consequence of being compelled to labor constantly to supply the needs of those who were dependent upon him, his progress was slow; still he contrived to gather and retain much useful knowledge. He had an excellent memory, a quick and lively fancy, some readiness of expression ; and these all combined had the effect of making him seem better informed than many who had enjoyed far superior advantages, but who could not use as freely as he the stores which they possessed. It must not be inferred from the above that he had attained to any great degree of scholarship. Such was not the case. In even elementary training he was extremely deficient; but he^made the best possible use of what he heard and read, and thus laid up a magazine of facts which he was able to turn to a good account in after years.

His thirst for knowledge increased with every acquisition ; and while he had not the least idea at that time of entering public life, he was unconsciously preparing himself for such a work as that to which he afterward was providentially called. He was a faithful and consistent member of the church all this time, growing stronger every day, and highly esteemed by his fellow-members.

Over two years of such a life as we have described passed away, and we find him working as a farm hand for one of the neighbors, Mr. George R. Finley, for whose daughter Martha he in process of time conceived a high regard. This feeling was mutual, and ripened into something more than esteem ; and it was soon the old story, that has been repeated over and over again. They became more than all besides to each other, and they were married on the nth of January, 1855. He was at this time only a few months over twenty years of age, poor in this world's goods, but hopeful and buoyant in spirit. With a stout heart and strong hands, he saw no reason why life should not be a success.

Nearly four years of his married life passed, one of which was spent in Missouri, with little to mark it beyond what is common to an industrious, hard-working man. Each day brought its toil, and at the same time the simple home-born joys, which are the dearest heritage of the poor. During these years the young couple were blessed with two children, Georgie Anna, born on the 3d of June, 1856, and Mary Elizabeth, born on the 31st of October, 1858. All this time Knowles was faithful in the discharge of his religious duties ; would now and then take some humble part in the sacred services, but gave no special promise of future usefulness beyond that of a humble, godly life. On one occasion, at a grove meeting, he was called on to say something. He rose and said: "Brethren and sisters, I have not very much to say; but I am thankful to the Lord for the mercy he has shown me. When I first joined the church I thought that was all I had to do ; but one day Squire Layton said to me: *Shaw, if you were out of corn, and some kind, good man, would say, *' Come to my crib and get all the corn you want, and I will charge you nothing for it," would you take the corn and go away without thanking him?' I repHed, ^No, sir/ *Then, ' added he, ^when the Lord gives you the hope of everlasting hfe, will you not thank him?' I said, 'Yes.' And I do thank him from the depths of my heart."

As already intimated, he had made some efforts at self-improvement, and not wholly in vain ; but his knowledge was fragmentary, and as yet he was almost entirely without that training of the mind which alone deserves the name of education.

On the third Lord's Day of October, 1858, from some cause or other, he was called on to talk to the people who had gathered for worship. He made the attempt with some diffidence and confusion at first; but gradually gaining his self-possession, he made a brief address, marked by such good sense, and delivered with such unaffected earnestness, that his hearers were satisfied that they had before them one possessed of the elements of a successful preacher. As a trial sermon before an assemblage of ministers, it would doubtless have been regarded as greatly lacking in most of the elements of a popular address; but his hearers judged by their hearts, by what they felt, and the decision rendered .by nearly all was, that Knowles Shaw would make a preacher. No one was more surprised at the effect of the discourse than the speaker himself. In his deep regard and warm admiration for the men upon whose ministry he had attended with such profit and pleasure, he had not thought it possible that he could ever become such an instrument of good to his fellows as they. The ice, however, was fairly broken ; many were convinced that he possessed the elements of great usefulness. Frequent opportunities were afforded for the exercise of his newly-found talent, and each exercise of it served to confirm the first impression he had made.