The life and religious experience of Hiram Munger...

Preface To The Second Edition

In issuing a second edition of this work the autobiographer has added an Appendix containing interesting details of some of the persecutions experienced by the pioneers in the Advent faith, together "with a concise narrative of subsequent labors hi the year just past and gone.

The good which the Lord has been pleased to accomplish through the instrumentality of this minister is indeed great ; and when we look at the wonderful revivals which have sprung up under the most discouraging circumstances wherever he went, we are ready to acknowledge that God has blessed his works abundantly in constraining sinners to come to Christ that they might have life.

The quaint originality of the style is characteristic of the man ; and those who are ac-

4 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

quainted with our brother will therein see the handiwork of the only Hiram Hunger which we

have, and, as Brother W , of Albany, once

said, the only Hiram Munger which we need.

The Appendix begins with a recital of a few of the trials with which our earliest preachers had to contend ; and the faith of Brother Mathewson, the sufferings of Baker, and the courage of Father Hastings are touched upon in a style peculiar to the author, the perusal of which will well repay the reader.

In addition to the above, there are added a number of valuable recipes, which, to those who are so unfortunate as to require their application, are of themselves worth the price of the book ; and their place there is a guaranty of their efficacy.

A lifelike portrait goes with this edition, for which we anticipate a rapid sale.

Jno. P. Cotton.

Boston, 1 January, 1861.

lUSGEE'S

LIFE AND EXPERIENCE.

Chapter I

In preparing this work, I must labor under many disadvantages ; first, from the fact that I cannot give but few correct dates, as I kept no journal, and most of these incidents must be given from memory for a number of years. But I will endeavor to give facts, and in some instances correct dates, and the sum and substance of circumstances, as nearly as possible.

Another difficulty which I must necessarily labor under is, omitting many names in this narrative, as many of the persons are living at this time, and many of the incidents are of such a nature, that the names of persons to whom they refer, being connected with the circumstances, might create sensitiveness and dissatisfaction.

This work is designed mostly to give a history of my experience in more than one hundred camp-meetings, and other religious meetings.

I have had the charge and oversight of the most of these meetings, either directly or indirectly, so that I felt a responsibility and duty to preserve good order. This position placed me where I necessarily came in contact with the " Cain family/' or " Children of the Devil" as our Saviour called them. So many curious and singular circumstances have occurred at these meetings, that are well known to my friends, that I have been requested to write them, as correctly and fully as I could recollect, that they might see them together, and have the privilege of relating them to others. I have objected for some years from a number of considerations : one good one was that I was not competent to produce a published work of any kind, to appear in this age of education and criticism ; another was, I was not able to raise the expense of publishing, and if others assisted me, I did not want any book in the community that was a drug to the people ; and fearing that it might not prove interesting, I had good reasons to doubt the propriety of the undertaking. But as we are all liable to be overcome, I will venture, therefore, to commence and proceed as my memory may serve me, hoping that neither religion nor morality will suffer on its account.

I was born in Monson, Mass., September 27, 1806, of poor parents. I was the oldest son of Stillman and Susan Hunger, who were the pa-

AXD EXPERIENCE. x 1

rents of five sons and six daughters, who have all, except one, lived up to the present time, this 9th day of August, 1855. I am consequently nearly 49 years of age. There is nothing remarkable in my experience of early life any more than in that of many others. But I can recollect so distinctly circumstances that took place when I was very young, that it may refresh my memory concerning later dates to note a few things as I passed from childhood up to where I now am ; and as memory is the most I have to depend upon, it needs refreshing, and this I offer as a reason to my friends for commencing my narration previous to what they or I expected at first. I recollect a number of circumstances that took place when I was less than two and a half years of age, while living in Monson. My father moved to Ludlow in the year 1809, and tended a grist-mill for a Mr. Putman, in the place then called " Put's Bridge/' since called Jenksville. While there I tended the toll-gate on the bridge. I recollect demanding the two cents of a colored man, who refused to pay me, and threatened me if I did not open the gate. I went for help, or to inform my father in the mill : when we came out in sight, he was on the gate (which was very high) getting over — my father shook him off, which so enraged him, that he cursed and swore at a great rate, which scared me for the first time in my life that I recollect. The same hour, and a short distance from that place, he committed a crime worthy of death, and was executed in Northampton. His name was Piner. — Many will recollect this circumstance as well as I do, for there was much excitement in that place at the time of his capture and trial.

The next work I remember doing was going into the small cotton factory over the grist-mill, started by Benjamin Jenks & Co., who came from Khode Island. This was the first factory of that kind in Massachusetts. The help necessary to carry it on was about twelve or fifteen hands. Here was where I was first made acquainted with American slavery in the second degree. The treatment of the help in those days was cruel, especially to poor children, of whom I was one. Although I was young, I recollect of thinking that life must be a burden if I was obliged to work in a factory under such tyrants as the Jenks' were then, and they never improved, unless it was when they failed and cheated the community out of $100,000, or more, and then left the parts.

In a few years, we moved to another mill three miles north, but in the same town, and lived there three years. Here I began my education with tending grist-mill. There being few inhabitants in the place, my mother was sent for when there was any sickness, and I, being the oldest of her four children, had all the care when my father was absent. I remember that my second sister was at play around the fire, and her dress took fire ; father and mother being gone, I tried in vain to put it out, 'till she was very badly burned, — her screams terrified the rest of the children, and no neighbors being near, I was in a straight place sure enough. I thought of the brook, and in an instant took the child, and amid the screams, confusion and fire, hastened down the bank a number of rods through bushes and weeds, and threw her in. The brook being large and high at the time, she went down some distance before I could get her out. This operation put the fire oat and stopped her crying, for she had strangled by rolling over so many times while going down to a place where I could get her out. She soon revived, to my joy, for I was afraid that my sudden remedy was fatal. But she got well, sooner probably by having the cold water bath. I must have been at that time about ten years of age. We next removed to Wilbraham, and lived a year or so. I worked that summer for Abner Cady, on a farm, for three dollars per month. — This was the cold summer of 1816. My summer wages bought my father a cow, which we kept until we moved to Chicopee, the town where I now reside.

I was now large enough to help in the mills, and was subject to my lather for a number of years : with him I struggled with poverty, the family now being large. My second brother and myself were all the help he had, to carry on a grist-mill, and some of the time two saw-mills ; and we were so poor that I had not clothes that were comfortable for winter or decent for summer much of the time. This was the misfortune of being very poor ; it was not caused by indolence nor intemperance of my father, for there is hardly a man that lives, or ever did live or ever will, that worked harder and more hours to support a family than he did, and my mother too. I was old enough to know that it was out of their power to do any better by their children. But, like other boys, I was often dissatisfied with staying at home without clothes to go to school or meeting but very little. I was nearly 16 years old before I could write, or read in a paper ; and I could not cipher at all. I was ashamed to go to school there then, and at last got rather headstrong and unruly, and determined to run away. I recollect setting a time to start : got my little all done up in a cotton handkerchief, and about 8 o'clock in the evening I started for Monson, to my uncle's — about fifteen miles. It looked like a great undertaking in those days. But I started, and had got about half a mile, when my attention was arrested by hearing some one praying up the river about one and a half miles from where I then was. I could hear distinctly what was said, and I staid nearly an hour and listened, until I concluded to go back home and put my goods in at the chamber window where

I got out. I went to bed thinking aboat that praying up the river : that turned my mind from running away. I staid at home peaceably for a year. I soon found out about that praying up the river. It was three old fashioned Methodists that could not have the privilege of praying in the tenement where they boarded ; this was in the upper village, now called Chicopee Falls, two miles from Cabotville. These men were men of God who went to work for him in good earnest. Their names were, Carter, Patton and Crocker. Their place of resort was half a mile down the river to a large, hollow button-ball tree where they went to pray after their day's work was done . Here was where they were when I heard them at Cabotville, which was at least one and a half miles distant. They prayed so loud and fervent that the " Cain family" found them, and commenced a violent persecution, even to the injury of their persons, but all to no purpose. These men of God were bent on something being done, and kept praying until some of their adversaries were struck like Saul of Tarsus ; some two or three in one evening.*** God began to work in power, and it

* While these men were praying, one of the " Cain family 5: procured a long pole, and inserting a sharp nail in the end of it. thrust it into the tree where they were praying. Instantly Patton cried out. K Lord ! that wicked sinner has pricked me — now. Lord, prick him to the heart." The indignity was repealed, and again he gradually and powerfully went on in the midst of persecution. It spread down the river, and some were converted there, and I among them felt the pardoning love of God and rejoiced. I never shall forget that time. But I soon went from there to Monson to work, and got in with wicked young men, and, like thousands, neglected duty and got back from God. I came back to Chicopee and staid a year or two. There I was made acquainted with the fact that I must pay a tax to the priest of the parish. This I never had heard of ; but so it was : and so, after all my flouncing, scolding and swearing, I had to pay to the deacon the only fifty cents I ever had had, or go to jail. That year a poor man's cow was taken for the parish tax, and a young man who was poor, had his boots attached while they were at the shoemaker's ; and many other similar specimens occurred in that region. — This sickened and disgusted me with the old fashioned way of supporting " the standing order" by law, against our will. I heard some talk about " signing off"* to get rid of paying a parish tax ; and I thought if there was a way

cried, " Lord, he has pricked me again, now prick him to the heart." The prayer was heard — awful conviction rested on the scoffing crowd, and several who were that night convinced of sin are now able ministers of the Gospel. Behold the power of prayer.

* Persons belonging to other churches could, by certifying the fact over their signature, avoid paying the regular tax.

AFD EXPERIENCE. 17

to get off, I should never pay Deacon Stedroan another fifty cents till I got ready. I began to doubt the Christianity of all professors. Aunt Ruel Van Horn's kind of religion I thought the best that I ever had seen, and would attend meeting where she did. She was a Methodist woman who had lately come into the place, and who lived her religion out, and has ever since. She was alive last week, and I called on her and talked over the old times that we had twenty-five or thirty years ago. I found her as strong in God as ever, though now nearly seventy years old. As there is nothing of importance from this time, I shall skip a few years to come more directly at the subject of Camp-meetings.

The year that I was married, I lived in South "Wilbraham and tended Wm, Moseley's mills. I heard of a Camp-meeting in Connecticut, about twelve miles from there ; and as I had never attended one, I concluded to go, and learning that the Methodists had put some into the preachers' stand for not obeying their rules, I proposed to a man of equal strength, named Goodale, to go with me, and see if the Methodists could put us into the preachers' stand. I had never seen a preachers' stand at this time. We arrived in sermon time, and got a sight at the stand, but concluded that it would not be a stand, or standing long, if they put another man into it. In the afternoon, while the committee was trying to get the men to take their side of the ground, we broke over their rules, determined to do as we pleased, and did, and were able to carry it out as far as masculine strength was necessary, for probably it would have needed a great number to have got either of us into the stand. Our conduct in disobeying and traveling where we pleased seemed to suit a class, that had been somewhat disturbed by the committee the day before, and seeing our determination to persist in our course, and break over their rules, these rowdies thought they had got additional strength ; so when evening came there was a mob assembled to tear down tents, and do other mischief. But Goodale and myself kept back. The mob assembled, expecting us to assist them in their operations, but as we had been treated better by the Methodists than we had treated them, we had no disposition to injure them.

The mob commenced their operations, and great confusion followed ; women and children were screaming, some were fighting, and Kilburn, the presiding elder, called on every man to help protect the encampment from this wicked mob, and all that were interested on either side came together ; but we looked on and had no part or interest on either side. But human nature is of such material that it will take sides in sympathy if nothing more, sooner or later. In a short time I saw the mob had began to use clubs, and had struck old father Henry (as he was called)— one of our townsmen — and the blood was running down his face. " Who struck you ? n said some one. " I don't know, but God knows/' said he. He called for help/and I couldn't be an idle spectator any longer. I told Goodale it was time for us to interfere. So we both agreed to take sides with the Methodists, as they had been shamefully treated and abused. We told them to come on, and some of them followed. The scuffle was near a bush-fence, and we went into the merits of the case very suddenly, and began throwing them oyer the bush-fence, and they soon saw something very different from what they had expected, for we made short work — took a number, and the rest ran — and we stayed on the ground and protected it during the rest of the night. The mob dare not return, and did not during the rest of the meeting. In this case, God turned the hearts of two wicked men to his glory.

So much for the first Camp-meeting I eyer saw or attended.

The next year I moyed back to Chicopee to a place called Willimansett, and took a saw-mill. There I heard Wilbur Fisk preach for the first time. I recollect people thought much of the preaching. I soon heard Fisk and Orange Scott preach at Hadley Falls, two miles north of Willimansett ; then I was conyinced of being a wicked backslider, but kept it to myself, and stopped going to meeting. Soon after,

Priest Phenix, (so-called), a Congregation alist, had an appointment in the school-house (near where I lived) for a temperance meeting. I was persuaded to go although I had a prejudice against him, for it was his deacon who took the fifty cents out of me for the parish tax, a year or two before. But I went to meeting and heard his argument in favor of temperance. — His reasoning was better than I expected. He was very zealous, and tried to get names on the temperance pledge. He failed in the first attempt, but he discovered that a number in the house referred to me, and said if he would get me to sign they would. The old man came to me and ventured to ask me to sign the pledge. I told him I was not a drunkard, and other arguments that caused him to give me up for that time. He kept trying others, and again came to me privately, and asked me if I knew that I stood in the way of his success in that place. I told him no ; they were all of age and could act for themselves. He persuaded and I argued. At last he wanted to know if I thought my signing the pledge would be the means of saving one man, I would do it. I told him I could not then, for I had got three gallons of rum at home which I must drink, and other like excuses. But the old man did not like to give it up without having one sign the pledge in that place, and so he tried me on another tack, to know if I would sign for one month. This was in July, and I thought it was necessary to keep out heat, and keep off sickness, &c. He did not give up then, but told me if I would sign the pledge, he believed others would be saved from a- drunkard's grave, if /was not, and appealed to my conscience to know if I would not make the small sacrifice of stopping drinking spirit for one month for the sake of others being saved from a drunkard's grave. I told him if I had any evidence that it would, I would stop. He said he had the evidence that it would. I finally told him that for his sake and his faith, I would sign that evening, with the understanding that if I could not stand it a month, I would take my name off in a week or two, if I chose. He agreed to it, and to the astonishment of others, I signed the pledge, then took the paper and demanded the names of those who agreed to sign if I would, and got them to sign. Anda good many signed the pledge that evening ; none, however, upon conditions but myself; this was a secret bargain between us alone. Next day I was called a " cold water man," &c. Time passed on one w r eek, and I did not drink any of my cherry rum that I had just made, although I expected to ; for I meant to get my name off the pledge soon. One day I thought I would take it off, but Priest Phenix had carried the pledge home with him : so I thought I would stand it till I could gee him without going three miles to his house ;

the cherry rum tempting me every day. I got

sick of my bargain, and meant to see him that day, but something hindered me. I heard that he was going to have a temperance meeting in lower Chicopee the next evening, and thought I would go, and then have my name taken off. The old man was there, full of zeal and faith that he should succeed in getting signers to the pledge. I could not see him till the meeting was over. Then, to my astonishment, he took out the pledge, and showed the people what he had done up at Willimansett, and my name was first. This looked bad to me, as I had come four miles to get my name off the pledge, but to have it exhibited in public, and in my old place of residence, was a set-back, sure enough. To go to him then to get my name off, was something that I would not do, if the cherry rum stood untouched till doomsday. A number signed that evening under my name, and there was a society formed on the spot, and three men were nominated to circulate the pledge, and I was the first, and was voted in. This was turning things about in a hurry. — What to do I did not know. There I was down for the purpose of getting out of the collar, but I had got into the harness sure enough. I had too much pride to let my business be known then, so I took the pledge and went to work, thinking, perhaps I might do somebody some good, and could erase my name when I pleased. I got a great number of names, many more than I expected. On going home, the cherry rum was in my way, and for me to be offering the pledge to others, and keeping the liquor in the house, looked to me hypocritical ; so I got rid of the three gallons at once, bidding it farewell forever.

I then felt better in every respect, for I had not drank a drop for about three weeks, and was conscious that it was doing no harm at least. I now had an inclination to attend meetings, which I had not done only occasionally for a number of years ; and I believe the hand of God was in this movement, and perhaps the man I was so much prejudiced against (for having received the fifty cents paid to him from his deacon) was the instrument in the hand of Grod of good to me. At any rate, I commenced with a pledge of a month, and have kept it twenty-five years. I have never seen him to speak to him since, for he soon moved off ; but if he should be living, and should see this book with this fact, he may know that his labor in the temperance cause has been blessed in some degree at least. All that I am acquainted with, who signed the pledge that first evening, have kept it to this day : and we have talked it over, and looked at it as being a great and wise step for us, for we are still willing to make a sacrifice for the cause of temperance in all its phases, and risk the stigma that may result therefrom. The next year I moved from Willimansett back to lower Chicopee, and added over two hundred names to the pledge, and felt justified in that, but condemned before God, for I was a backslider. The meeting was still kept up, and had been ever since the three men of God first assembled in the hollow tree, a few years before. By this time the Methodists had gained a foothold, and built a small chapel, and had meetings every Sabbath. I attended, and soon became interested in them, and had a desire, like David, to have God restore unto me the joys of his salvation. I tried every way to get relief, but was determined to keep my feelings to myself, until I got what I was seeking after ; and month after month I tried every possible way that I could think of to please God . I would get all the people that T could out to meeting, and often would take them into my boat and carry them there, hoping to do some good thing in this way to please God, and come into his favor by good works. I kept getting signers to the temperance pledge, and in fact I did penance enough in various ways to satisfy a Catholic priest, but all to no purpose ; things grew worse all the while. I was determined to get blessed before I let my feelings be known, even to my wife. I finally concluded that I would rise for prayers when a good and convenient opportunity presented itself. I attended all the meetings, and at this time the meetings were very interesting, as there was a revival going on all the while in the Methodist chapel. I heard different preachers, Scott, Fisk, White. Stephens, and many others, and did not find a convenient time to 2:0 forward all this time.

There was a great deal of persecution, for the " Cain family" acted like their father the Devil, and I made up my mind I would act as regulator, and keep order at the meetings at least, and defend God's people, for my sympathy was with them. I prosecuted some twelve or fifteen in a short time ; some were overseers in the factories, others were members of other churches. Some I pitched out of the house ; others who had been stoning the meeting-house I followed half a mile, and caught them, &c, thinking perhaps that I was in some way at work for God's people, if nothing more. Many a time I have stayed out in secret places to catch those who came to disturb the meeting ; and some will long recollect the brief interviews we had a short distance from the Methodist chapel. But enough on this point.

The reformation still continued, but I found no convenient time to go forward. I remember well the hardest time I ever had to keep my seat was when a vouns; convert testified, and told her simple story of what God had done for her, and the tears ran freely at the same time. This was one of the daughters of father Carter, so called, one of the first three who commenced working for God down under the old button-ball tree that I have mentioned before. She talked and cried, and talked till the sharp arrows of the Almighty stuck fast in many hearts, mine for one. None of the great guns that had been fired at me before touched the tender place as that small stone out of the little sling did. I then agreed, with two others, to go forward for prayers the next time there was an invitation. The time came, and the question arose who should start first. I mention this to show others the need of individual decision in matters of religion. Neither would be first, and so we all sat still that evening. The next evening some of my friends were present, and it was not convenient then, and I saw that the Devil would have something in the way as long as I was undecided ; and I made up my mind, that if all the whole world was present I would go forward the next evening. The time came, and I hoped that my friends would not be there, but it seemed that all of them knew what I had determined to do, and came to see if they could not laugh me out of it ; and they would have done it, had I not decided wholly that I would make the trial that night. I recollect that Bro. Josiah Litch called upon all to come forward who felt the need of prayers. My heart thumped and fluttered, until 1 thought every person in the house heard it. 1 finally arose and went to the front seat, and to my surprise, others whom I supposed had come in to hinder, came forward and took a seat with me, and some whom I had previously had hold of, all which helped to break me down before God. Brother Litch and others prayed fervently for us ; some came out clear, and I felt better at the close of the meetings. While going home, I determined to serve God if I was damned ; and while walking along in the road I lifted my heart to Him for His blessing. All at once I had such peace break in upon my mind that I stopped still. — I dare not shout, for the road was full of people, so I got away alone in some bushes, on the bank of the river, and if ever any body was happy it was me. I praised God, I laughed, I cried, I shouted, and then tried to pray, but I could not ask for any thing, for I had then got every thing, I never found so delightful a place before. I staid there until midnight, all alone, yet with the best company I ever had. I could not sleep after I got to my boarding place.