I ■& Xf^/k^ty^ tuy %Cr£*SLJ-^ V RECOLLECTIONS OF MY LIFE. FIFTY YEARS OF ITINERANCY IN THE NORTHWEST BY CHAUNCEY HOBAET, D. D. BED WING: RED WING PRINTING OO. 1885. .5 H 3i" fO the friends whose generosity has made the publication of these Recollections possible; and to my dear wife and youngest son, who have encouraged me to believe that their perusal will strengthen the faith and inspire the hope of the reader; this book is affectionately dedicated by THE AUTHOR. Red Wing, Minn., April 2, 1885. CONTENTS. CHAPTEK I. Ancestry — Early Recollections — St. Albans — Essex — Home Life — Going to Mill— First School — Early Religious Impressions Page 9 CHAPTER II. First Camp-meeting — Second Camp-meeting 21 CHAPTER III. Starting for the West — All Aboard — Westward Ho ! — Ohio School — Journeyings — Pocket Bible — Camping — Our Cabin Home — Kickapoos — Sickness — Be-kik-a-nin-ee 25 CHAPTER IV. Mother's Faith— Levin Green 47 CHAPTER V. Bee Hunting — Indian Visitors — Indian Stores — First School — New Settlers — First Marriage — First Birth — First Sunday School 51 CHAPTER VI. Desire for Knowledge — Circulating Library — Religious Convictions — Band Mill — Rafting — First Rifle — Busy Days — Change of Residence — Horse Mill — More New Settlers — Circuit Preaching — First Quarterly Meeting — Going to St. Louis — Man in the River — Hunting — Ague 56 6 'contents. CHAPTER VII. Black Hawk War Page 73 CHAPTER VIH. Sugar Creek Mill— Father's Death 78 CHAPTER IX. Second Black Hawk War— Skirmishing— My Mother's Marriage 82 CHAPTER X. A Meteoric Display — My Conversion — Joining the Church — Pulaski Camp-meeting — Local Preachers — Marriage — Cholera 86 CHAPTER XL Steward— Study — Licensed to Exhort — Call to Preach — Revivals and Conversions — Licensed to Preach 93 CHAPTER XII. Rushville Conference — Received on Trial — Peter R. Borein — Rockingham Circuit — Circuit Riding — Hunting a Bed — Meeting a Universalist — Watch-night Meeting at Rock Island — Taking a Plunge — A Congregationalist Tunis Methodist — Great Camp-meeting 103 CHAPTER XIII. Jacksonville Conference — Knoxville Circuit — My Col- league — Swimming for Life — Ellison Camp Meeting — Frank Snapp — Bro. Mings— My Little Calvin — Conference of 1838 130 CHAPTER XIV. Macomb Circuit — Warner Oliver — Unitarianism at La Harpe — Dr. Peter Akers — Bilious Fever — A Rich Bless- ing — Going to Conference '. 144 CHAPTER XV. Sent to Quincy — Revival — Bro. Clowse — Mormon Contro- versy — Religious Interest — Volunteer Camp-meeting . . . 152 CONTENTS. 7 CHAPTEE XVI. Springfield Conference — Returned to Quincy— Earnest Work— Mother Murphy— Conference Sermon — Rush ville Station— Revival— Tug of War Page 167 CHAPTER XVII. Two Days' Meeting at Sugar Creek— Stationed at Peoria — Building a Parsonage— Stationed at Jacksonville— Billy Milburn— Eulogy on Gen. Jackson— Returned to Jackson- ville — Stationed at Springfield — China 190 CHAPTER XVIII. Clark Street Church, Chicago — A Troublesome Presiding Elder— Good Meetings — A Strange Death — Great Conven- tion—Sunday at the Pavilion 211 CHAPTER XIX. Racine District — Miss Frances E. Willard — Catfish and Indian Ford — Volunteering for Minnesota 225 CHAPTER XX. St. Paul, Minnesota— A Little Trip— Chaplain of the First Legislature — Beloit Conference — Quarterly Meeting — Poor Dave — Baraboo — Through the Wilderness — Porcupine Feast — Great Camp-meeting — Waukesha Conference — General Conference, 1852, at Boston — Trip to New York — Begging — Sandy Lake 233 CHAPTER XXI. Stationed in Milwaukee — Burned Out — Conference at Janesville — Milwaukee District — Stationed at Red Wing — General Conference at Indianapolis — My Willie — Lake City — Prescott District — A Spiritist Mad — District Work — Con- ference at Prescott — A Steep Ride — General Conference at Buffalo, 1860 — A Colored Preacher — Judge Gale — Sawing the Chippewa — War — Chaplain of Third Minnesota — Illness —Return Home— Winona— Thomas Simpson and wife. . 268 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXn. Sioux Massacre — Stationed at Prescott — Ride with Bishop Ames — Christian Commission — Colored Class-meeting — General Conference at Philadelphia — Little Johnny Doughty — Stationed at Market Street, St. Paul — Little Jenny Mur- ry — Member of the General Mission Committee — Board of Church Extension — Horrors of War — Assassination of President Lincoln — Red Wing Circuit — Peace — Camp-meet- ing — Winona District — Death of my Wife Page 323 CHAPTER XXIII. Rochester Conference — Bishop Simpson — Visit to New York — Protracted Meeting — Brothers Norton — Valuable Gift— General Conference at Chicago — House-keeping— St. Paul District — Trip to Pembina — Hobart Chapel — Harrison Brothers— Red Wing Circuit 365 CHAPTER XXIV. Centennials — American Independence — Methodism— "Re- tiring from Active Service — Chaplain to the Legislature — Winter in California — Red Wing Circuit — Sickness — Dun- can's Mills — Temperance Work — Ranche at Chico — Last Word 402 EKEATA. On page 10, seventh line from top, read, 1781 instead of "1728." On page 273, third line from top, read, P. S. Bennett, I. M. Leihy, C. Hobart, E. Cook and E. Yocum, instead of "I. M. Leihy, C. Hobart and H. Summers." On page 369, ninth line from the bottom, read, built largely with, instead of "built with." I yecollecfiorjs • ©p lT/y • lilfe. CHAPTEK I. rf7HE name which I inherit is probably as old as the Norman conquest — and is alluded to in English history as "highly respected in the county of Norfolk for many generations before 1611, — when a baronetcy was conferred on Sir James Hobart — Knight, — Attorney-General, and of the Privy Council of Henry VII. " "Sir Henry Hobart — Knight, — Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas" — is also mentioned as a man of note in the 17th Century. Sir Miles Hobart, Member of Parliament in the stormy ses- sion of 1627-8, when he helped to hold the Speaker in the chair, while certain strong resolutions were passed, and afterwards locked the door, while they were being published, — and for which he was im- prisoned. My immediate ancestor, Edmond Hobart, emi- grated from England in 1632, — made his home in Hingham near Boston in 1633 — and was joined by his son Peter in 1636. 10 RECOLLECTIONS. Peter Hobart was a graduate of Westminster University. He was a Puritan minister at Hing- ham, Eng., and with some forty of his flock emi- grated and settled at Hingham, Mass. My father, Calvin Hobart, the fifth in descent from Peter — was born in New Hampshire, May 28, 179&?lMy mother, Sallie Norris, daughter of Capt. Benjamin Norris, of Dorchester, N. H., was born, in Dorchester, April 1, 1785. My paternal and maternal grandfathers were soldiers in the Eevolutionary war, in which each lost a brother. My parents were married by Elijah Heckling, at the residence of the bride's father, March 12, 1809. Both being at the time members of the M. E. church. They immediately removed to St. Al- bans, Vt., and settled on the beautiful shore of Lake Champlain, six miles from the village. Here I was born on June 9, 1811, the youngest of twin sons, named respectively Norris and Chauncey. At the breaking out of the war of 1812, at the earnest solicitation of my grandparents, who feared an Indian foray from Canada, on the eastern shore of Lake Champlain, where my parents lived, they removed to the town of Essex, twenty miles in the interior, My first recollections begin with the summer of 1813, when but little over two years old. On one occasion my mother sent me to take a sieve to her aunt, Mrs. Samuel Hazeltine, twenty-five rods distant, and had pinned a little red shawl over my head and shoulders. Just before reaching the house an old turkey gobbler, attracted by my red KECOLLECTIONS. 11 costume, began to strut and gobble around me at a fearful rate. I stopped a moment — hesitating as to whether I should fight, run or cry — when my good aunt ended the difficulty by coming out, driv- ing off my persecutor and taking me into the house. I also remember, the following spring, of at- tending a quarterly meeting, held in the barn be- longing to my mother's uncle, Samuel Hazeltine. During the service, myself and brother sat on the floor, and as the service was rather tedious for little folks, we began to amuse ourselves, and Norris began to talk. The presiding elder, Kev. Bromley, seeing my mother's anxiety to quiet the child and also to hear the sermon, undertook to assist her, and supposing that he could awe the little fellow into quietness, stopped, and looking at him said sternly: "Little boy, you must not talk!" Norris straight- ened himself back, and fixing his eyes, as black as Erebus, on the elder, said in about the same measured distinct tones: " I will talk!" At which an almost audible smile stole over the faces of the audience, while my mother took up the youngster and carried him out of doors. Another memory of these early days is, that myself and little brother were sent to bring home a pair of shoes, left at Grandpa Stockwell's, to be re- paired. As we started home we were greatly de- lighted to find a nice baked apple in each shoe. To suit more fastidious tastes than were ours that day, we will suppose that each apple was daintily wrapped in tissue paper, yet, as a matter of fact, I have no such recollection. 12 RECOLLECTIONS. On one occasion, in September, 1814, while our parents attended a quarterly meeting at Jericho, fifteen miles away, we (N orris and myself) were left at the home of Peter Hobart during their ab- sence. On that Sunday afternoon I very distinctly remember hearing a heavy distant sound as of thunder, and of being told by the boy and girl who had us in charge : " Hark ! Do you hear? That is the cannon where they are fighting over in Plattsburg!" My parents returned to St. Albans in the spring of 1815. For beauty and picturesqueness nothing to my mind excells the landscape as viewed from this point of the eastern shore of Lake Champlain. Two miles to the west lies Butler's Island, and a little to the left Ward's Island, each containing about two hundred acres. Two miles still further west stretches that gem of beauty known as Grand Isle. While twelve miles to the northwest through the gap between the north end of Grand Isle and the west end of Hog Island lie the clear, blue waters of the main lake. Where the road through my father's land touched the shore from the east, ran a beautiful gravelly beach, with an irregular line of rocks along the water's edge, affording one of the most con- venient and attractive places for angling. Here, on the shore of this beautiful lake, in sight of the far-off Adirondacks in the west, and the snow- capped peaks of the Green Mountains, on the east, the pleasant days of my early boyhood were passed. From the spring of 1815, until my father started for the west in 1821, I have no recollection of a EECOLLEC.TIONS. 13 sorrow or care, save when parental faithfulness or pedagogical prerogative held me responsible for juvenile indiscretions. My parents were in my estimation models of everything good. I thought my father the wisest, strongest and hand- somest man in the world, and my mother the em- bodiment of all that was noble in womanhood, and I had no idea that there was anything knowable that they did not know. As they had each been teachers before their marriage, devoutly and prac- tically religious, and were sincerely devoted to each other, I think now as then, that there are but few households which furnished more of real enjoy- ment than did theirs. My father was a carpenter and joiner as well as farmer; my mother, the daughter of a New England farmer, and a model housekeeper after the models of that day; both were good singers and above their neighbors in intelligence. They were the peace-makers of the neighborhood, and in church and social life succeeded in retaining the esteem and confidence of all who knew them. My first attendance at school was in the winter of 1816-17. My father being the teacher. Nothing unusual occurred until the winter before I was eight years old, when my father took my twin brother and myself in his sleigh to the mill in Swanton, six miles distant, and across the Missisco river, in order that we might do the milling for the future. Accordingly, the next spring I was mounted on the top of three bushels of grain thrown over the back of an old, bay mare, and rode away 14 EECOLLECTIONS. to mill, walked my horse all the way there, got my grist ground and was home again before sun- down, being warmly congratulated on my return by my mother as having accomplished quite a feat. The next grist was taken by my brother, and this alternation of going to mill was continued until our tenth year. I remember also that about the time of our first going to mill, a neighbor, whose son was a year older than we were, asked my mother to allow me to go to mill for her. In very clear, decided Anglo-Saxon words, yet with nothing unfriendly in look or tone, mother replied: "No; your boy is older than mine. It is bad enough to have the child go for ourselves!" On one of my milling trips, about this time, I was asked by the miller if my father and mother were dead. He affected surprise when I told him they were both living. No doubt the feat of crossing the river on a ferry with our old horse and riding the twelve miles with our sacks of grain or flour seemed to the old man quite an exploit, for two little fellows of our size and age. During the winter that part of the lake near our home was a fine place for skating. The anchor ice would form along the shore until some two or three hundred feet wide, outside of which the ice would be as smooth as glass and twenty to thirty inches thick. On this all, from boys of ten to veterans of seventy, were in the habit of enjoying them- selves in the manly art of skating. Tales of won- derful speed were common. It was said that feats of a mile a minute had been performed. EECOLLECTIONS. 15 The following story I heard then, and have learned since was a fact: During the war of 1812 the British had a fort at St. Johns at the lower end of the lake, while the Americans had one at Whitehall at the head of the lake. The forts being one hundred and twen- ty-five miles apart. In the winter of 1813 a number of American prisoners were kept at St. Johns. One pleasant day, the Indians obtained permission to take a prisoner out on the ice, in order to enjoy themselves at his expense, supposing it likely that he knew nothing of the art of skating, and promising that he should not escape. Accordingly, when on the ice a good pair of skates were given to him, these he put on awkward- ly, pretending he could scarcely stand, staggering slipping and falling. This the Indians enjoyed supremely. But after straining, fixing and refix- ing his skates, until the fit was perfect, he began to improve in gait and to get off a little distance from his tormentors going to and fro near them several times until the wary Indians were actually off their guard. Then finding himself about ten rods from the nearest of them — he struck out boldly for the Lake. Raising the war whoop his captors started in hot pursuit. Whatever of muscle or skill was pos- sessed by either party was brought into immedi- ate requisition. Pursuit was vain. In less than half an hour the prisoner who was an old Cham- plain skater was half a mile ahead. The pursuers were distanced, gave up the chase, and the escaped 16 BECOLLECTIONS. prisoner in about four hours reported at Whitehall for duty. My first summer school was in 1817, taught by Miss Jane Todd, whom I think of as wise, kind and good, and who succeeded in very sensibly managing the forty juveniles, she assisted in climbing the hill of science. Morals and manners were a part of our daily routine. We were taught that we must go to and return from school in a quiet, orderly way. If we met any one older than ourselves, to politely step aside, the boys to take off their caps and bow, and the girls to courtesy as the stranger passed. The work of my brother and' myself about this time during our ninth and tenth years was, in the spring, to assist in sugar making, commencing about the 25th of March, and continuing until late in April. Then plowing, planting and making garden, etc., until hoeing time. After this we went into the haying; afterwards the small grain was to be harvested, and then the harvest of fruit. Most of the farmers in the fall and winter were occu- pied in making potash from the ashes produced in the burning of the huge logs which accumulated in clearing the land. Stock raising, especially in the line of cattle and sheep was followed to a limit- ed extent, and in these varied pursuits we assisted. In the spring of 1816 my grandfather, Jonas Hobart, came with his family to live with my father occupying adjoining houses. After his coming "Grandpa" took the direction in planting and hoe- ing. And in our busy out door life we were con- RECOLLECTIONS. 17 tinually plying him with questions about the Bev- olutionary war: about the wound he had received in the fighting just before Burgoyne's surrender; of his brother Isaac's death at the battle of Bunker Hill ; and innumerable other questions as they were suggested by childish curiosity. And I have a grateful recollection that he was always pleased to talk with us and tell us all that he knew. I said to him on one occasion, "Grandpa, if you could find the man that killed your brother Isaac, and knew, that he was the very man would you kill him ?" His answer was "Yes!" with such an arousement of energy and flashing of eye that, to this hour, I not only hear but see the answer. It was soon after this that during the summer we were first permit- ted to fish; an enjoyment which we improved dur- ing the successive summers that we lived on the lake shore, and it Avas not unusual for us to bring home from three to a dozen fine pan fish. Black bass, pickerel, perch, shiners, bullheads, catfish, eels, and other kinds, we caught with hooks; while sturgeons, muscalunge and many other kinds the men caught with seins. I well remember finding a large pin which I bent into a hook, tied it to a short line, ob- tained a stick about five feet long for a pole, and dropping my line into a hole between two rocks — pulled out eleven large perch in less than twenty minutes. I was then about eight years old and carried my perch home and presented them to my mother with about as much consciousness of self- importance as had Wellington, probably, on his re- turn from Waterloo. 18 EECOLLECTIONS. The winters then, as I remember them, were long and cold. The snow often coming and hiding out of sight fences and stumps. The summers were enjoyable and full of delight. The forests and fields verdant and gay, alive with thousands of birds of every hue, who sought a northern clime in which to rear their young, and whose many notes rendered both field and forest a vast orchestra. The social life of the community was vigorous and pleasant. The ladies had their quiltings and other parties. The men their "bees," trainings, elec- tions and "Fourth of July." I also remember hearing of a certain class who patronized balls and dances ; but of these we knew nothing definite as the people called Methodists frequented no such gath- erings. Drunkenness was considered disgraceful, but moderate drinking was almost universal. Quarrelling sometimes occurred but fighting never. A man's person was deemed sacred but his repu- tation might be assailed with impunity. To ques- tion a man's veracity was hardly considered an of- fense, but to touch one's person or property was a crime which must be settled by the courts. In my seventh year there came to me my first remembered conscious impressions of personal re- ligious obligation. I had been taught to pray from my cradle, the "Lord's Prayer" and other petitions, by my dear mother, and I thought that all was well with me — and I have no doubt it was. At this time there came to visit us several of my mother's cousins, all warm hearted zealous Metho- dists, not only converted but anxious to "tell to RECOLLECTIONS. 19 sinners round, what a dear Savior they had found." One of these, a young lady, took me on her knee and told me of God, of Christ, of the Savior's death and of my obligation to pray to him in secret. She also obtained from me a promise, that I would pray in secret, which promise I kept. These extra re- ligious observances satisfied my conscience and gave me no small amount of satisfaction. We were as a family, including myself and twin brother, my brother Truman, aged four and Elizabeth K. aged two years, in the habit at this time of attending preaching, prayer and class meetings and love feasts. From these means of grace I began to acquire a correct idea of conversion and of the duties, obliga- tions and privileges of religious life. Indeed, my impression then, was that I was doing all that the Lord required of a little boy, and enjoying about all that a little boy had a right to expect. I confi- dently believed that when I reached the age of ten or twelve I should be "called" in some special and satisfactory manner, and that I would then ex- perience religion as my father and mother had ex- perienced it, and after that, should enter fully into all those enjoyments of which I had heard others speak. This impression of a special call before conver- sion arose, from the fact, that previous to their con- version to Methodism my grandfathers and grand- mothers, all four of them, had been members of the Calvinistic Baptist church and that my parents were educated under that influence. This conviction had a benificial influence on my 20 EECOLLECTIONS. conduct. I was kept from profanity and from Sab- bath breaking and if I found myself at any time be- trayed into anger I could get no rest until I found some place to pray, and had made an humble con- fession, and asked forgiveness of the Lord for my sin. When ministers and other religious people came to our house, and began to talk of their experience — their trials, conflicts and victories, I used to get as near to them as I could and listen with the greatest interest to their conversation. It seemed to me that I had some relation to them, and that when the Lord should give me the expected "call," I, too, would find all that these so joyfully narrated. Our circuit preaching was on Friday — once in two weeks. And the preachers on the St. Albans circuit then were men of strength. Among these I remember Beman, Stratton, Covel, Bromley, Good- sell and Dunbar. All of these were men of re- nown afterward most of them presiding elders. And in those days and for years after to be a pre- siding elder was Methodistically "to be greater than a king." RECOLLECTIONS. - 21 CHAPTEE II. 7VT Y first camp-meeting to which I was taken by L) -*- my parents,was held in Peru, New York, on the west side of Lake Champlain. The ministers pre- sent were Key's Beman, Mitchell, Bromley and others, men of power. Instead of having an altar before the stand there was arranged a circle for prayer, out in the middle of the camp ground about one hundred feet in diameter. This circle was made by the members taking each other by the hand and all who desired to take part in the meeting or to as- sist their friends who were seeking salvation were permitted to enter and the exercises were kept up within, almost continuously, when there was no public preaching. In the centre of this prayer circle, and standing about twenty feet apart, were two trees. Between these trees, for about three days and nights, no one could pass without falling, losing their strength and becoming unconscious to all outward things. This now strange phenomenon, called by some "having the power," by others "fanaticism," was regarded by the pious then, as the work of the Holy Spirit and an agency used by the Almighty, to wake up a sleeping church and community, to the great facts of revelation and religion. The second camp-meeting which I attended, was 22 RECOLLECTIONS. held in Georgia, Franklin County, Vt., in the sum- mer of 1821, J. B. Stratton presiding elder and, I think, Eev's Covel and Dunbar, circuit preachers. There was some little friction here growing out of the fact, that the elder, who had married into a Presbyterian family, had made it the standing rule of the meeting, that all exercises should cease, and the lights be extinguished at 10 p. m." This, it was alleged, was done to please his wife's friends, who had been induced to attend the camp-meeting — it was contrary to previous usage, and Elder Bromley, who had had charge of the District, the year before, was so "tried" that he would not preach. In vain did the preachers and people urge ; — he would not preach with a gag in his mouth, nor while the people were restrained in any way from the enjoyment of the largest relig- ious liberty. This unpleasantness was rather calculated to dampen the enthusiasm of the meeting, when at last, on Saturday evening, Elder Stratton probab- ly to prevent a failure, said to Elder Bromley — "All the brakes are taken off" and that he, (Elder B. ) — must preach on the coming Sunday at 10, A. M. I distinctly remember that my father said to me, that Sunday morning as we took our seats — (myself at the root of a tree) — "Now my son, you must hear every word, and tell me something of what the preacher said after the service!" This quickened my attention and I remember now, after sixty-four years, that the text was Isaiah XII, containing six verses — the whole of which RECOLLECTIONS. 23 was used as the text that morning. The sermon was an earnest one, and spoke of the wrath of God, the turning away of that wrath, the mighty com- fort secured, and of the Water of Life drawn from the well of salvation. During the earlier part of the sermon, the tide of feeling was evidently ris- ing, as attested by responses from every portion of the great congregation; but it was the last part, while the preacher was commenting on the sixth verse — "Cry out and shout, thou inhabitant of Zion, for great is the Holy One of Israel in the midst of thee," that interested me most; and this, it was that I repeated to my father after the ser- vice — as he inquired, what I remembered ? In the earnest tone and impassioned manner of the preacher and imitating his style as nearly as I could I exclaimed: "Away with your pop gun re- ligion! — Give us a six pounder! — A twelve pound- er! — A twenty-four pounder! — The bigger the bet- ter!!" In the earlier part of the meeting and preced- ing the removal of the 10 o'clock p. m. limit, per- haps on Friday evening, there was a very warm prayer meeting in progress at my father's tent, during which several were converted and some re- claimed. The meeting was going on with increas- ing interest when the hour of ten arrived, a few minutes after which, one of the preachers came in and reminded those present that the meeting must close, and the lights be extinguished." This was done, much to the regret of all, and es- pecially of my mother, but would have been borne, 24 RECOLLECTIONS. probably without expostulation, had not the same preacher, with one or two others come the next morning, and said rather facetiously; "Now sisters you may shout as much as you please!" This was too much for my mother to bear, and turning to the speaker she said: "Now Brother, I am tried! I am hurt deeply at two things which you have done! Last night when the Lord was preciously near, and some of our dear neighbors were being reclaimed and others converted, you came, and in- sisted on closing the meeting, telling us that we must put out the lights and retire. Now this morning, when we are all busy with our breakfast, you come and say, 'Now sisters you may shout!' What would you think of us if we should begin to shout now, just because you told us we might?" This put the matter in a rather strong light and ended anything like levity on the subject, espec- ially as my mother was known to be no shouter, though she did not object to others shouting when they felt like it. RECOLLECTIONS. 25 CHAPTEK III. T^vUKING the summer of 1814, when it was ex- *& pected that the war with England would con- tinue, several regiments had been enlisted in New England, composed principally of young men ; with the intention of carrying the war into Canada the next year. But as the war closed in December, these recruits were sent to the west and stationed at dif- ferent forts, along the Mississippi, Missouri and other frontier posts. They were discharged in 1819 and returned to their New England homes, bringing wondrous reports of the west. They stated, that, in Illinois and Missouri, hundreds of tons of hay could be cut for nothing; that corn grew so high, that many of the ears, could not be reached by a man standing on the ground; that from eighty to one hundred bushels of corn could be raised on an acre; that the soil was more than two feet deep and inexhaustibly rich, and, that in many places you could plow a furrow six miles long without touching a stone, stump or tree. They told that the climate was mild and delight- ful, and that cattle could live without being fed or sheltered during the winter, in the southern part of Illinois and anywhere in Missouri. Many of the people regarded these reports as 26 RECOLLECTIONS. unreliable, exaggerated and altogether of the Mun- chausen school. But with my father it was differ- ent. He knew several of these men and believed their statements to be true. The consequence was, he determined to sell out, and find a home in Illi- nois. Accordingly he sold his house and farm for three quarter sections of land, situated in the "Military Bounty Tract." This tract lies between the Illinois and Mississippi rivers, and extends from the mouth of the Illinois river to near the mouth of Rock river, thence east to the Illinois. The land which he purchased all lay within Schuyler county. Preparations for the journey were made during the summer, by gathering his harvests and turning personal property into teams, wagons and money. In the meantime while these were being carried out, an old friend of my father's, a friend of his youth, Mr. Enock Danforth, with wife, determined to join him in his expedition to the west. To. facilitate matters, Mr. Danforth and family moved into a part of our house and the friends were mu- tually helpful in getting ready for the long journey. The summer passed pleasantly and on the 25th of August, 1821, teams and wagons being provided, goods packed and everything in order, we were "all aboard" about two o'clock in the afternoon and ready to start. I well remember the occasion, about two hun- dred of our friends and neighbors had gathered. Friends who had known and loved my parents from childhood were there. Many tears were shed, RECOLLECTIONS. 27 many kind wishes expressed, many prayers uttered and many blessings invoked. After my father had stepped into the wagon, and had taken the reins in his hand, he stood up and made a little speech. He expressed his appreciation of their kindness, as neighbors and friends in the years that had passed, and said, that if life and health were spared, and he should prosper he hoped in ten years to come back on a visit. The last good-byes were said, the word was given and we started for the far west. The first afternoon, we only made the short stage of about three miles to the Bay, where we stopped over night, with an old friend, Elijah Dunton, whom we children knew as "Uncle Lijah." The next day we reached Essex in the neighborhood of which we had lived from 1812 to 1814. From Essex we moved westward via Burlington and Ver- gennes. At the last point named we learned some- thing more of a Mr. Spencer, father of Judge Spencer of Rock Island and grandfather of Eev. Spencer, of Rock River Conference. Of this gentleman my father had had some knowledge, and learned that he had started for Illinois in the early summer of 1821, two months previous. About the tenth day we arrived at the home of my uncle, Amos Hobart, who lived in the eastern part of New York. Here we rested three days, passing the Sabbath. Proceeding westward, we passed through Utica, crossed Cayuga Lake on a long bridge, and going 28 EECOLLECTIONS. through Batavia, came to Buffalo. At Buffalo we rested two days with Mr. Folsom and wife, who were old New Hampshire friends of my father and mother. This city, now one of such wealth and importance, was then but a small village. From Buffalo we traveled along the shore of Lake Erie, over a very rough and muddy road, for many miles, immediately on the brink of a precipice, over four hundred feet deep, which constituted the shore of the lake. Towards the last of October, we reached Painesville, Ohio. Here we rested about a week with my mother's oldest brother, Benjamin Norris, Jr., a well-to-do farmer who had been there several years. Here it was thought best, in view of the near approach of winter and the bad condition of the roads, which from freezing and thawing were near- ly impassable, and as we must go through this then new and but little improved country, to find, soon, some neighborhood, where work could be obtained and living would be cheap, for the winter. For this purpose, we drove on to Hudson, Portage county, and stopped three miles west of that vil- lage, in the D arrow neighborhood. The country around here, had been settled about twenty years, and the people were generally thrifty, intelligent and pious. We were soon comfortably situated for the winter, plenty of work for my father, and a good school for us near by. The most of the peo- ple in that vicinity were Presbyterians from Con- necticut, but my parents were greatly pleased to learn, that there was also a class of Methodists, RECOLLECTIONS. 29 and that there was preaching in the school house once in two weeks — Billings O. Plympton, circuit preacher, and William Swayzie, presiding elder. The school for the winter term soon opened, with Leander Sackett, teacher. And for the next four months, we little folks were about as contented and happy as it falls to the lot of most mortals to be. Father and mother, busily at work and my brothers Norris and Truman, sister Lizzie and my- self going to school. Our grandparents and Mr. and Mrs. Danforth, who had traveled in company with us, also found comfortable dwellings near us. The winter proved a mild and open one, so that the time passed very swiftly. The school which we attended numbered about fifty pupils, and was of about the same grade as the one we had left in St. Albans, except that, be- sides the spelling book, Geography and New Tes- tament, we here found, and for the first time saw, the English Reader. In the course of the winter, having, as we our- selves and as our teacher supposed, developed our ability very considerably in spelling, a proposition was sent from our school to a school two miles east of us, to meet in a spelling match. To our invita- tion they did not respond, but in a week or so sent their teacher down to visit our school, one Friday afternoon, in time to hear the exercises of our spelling class. He was courteously received by our teacher, Mr. Sackett, and when the "first- class," of which I had the honor to be a member, was called to take its place, the book was handed 30 RECOLLECTIONS. to the visiting teacher, with the request that he would give out the spelling lesson. As he took the book, Webster's old spelling book, he inquired of Mr. Sackett where the lesson was. "Anywhere you please," was the reply. The gentleman hesi- tated a moment, then turned, I think, to the twen- ty-sixth table, consisting of words in which the hard sound of ch is found, beginning with Christ, chyle, scheme, ache, &c, and he announced the first word. This word, "Christ," was spelled by the first boy, when without waiting for the giving out of another word, the class, one after another, spelled each successive word in the table of some two hundred of the most difficult words of that style. It was done promptly round and round, without any mistake or trepidation. When the last word had been spelled, the visitor, turning to Mr. Sackett, remarked: "You have given some special attention to this table, have you not?" "No, sir!" replied Mr. Sackett, "no more than to any other part of the book!" This was indeed true. However, we never succeeded in getting an invitation after that, to go up and spell with our visitor's school, nor in getting them to accept an invitation to come down and spell with us. Thus for four months, our school progressed, not without the usual admixture of fun and frolic, mischief and meanness, and a fair amount of good hard study; then it was closed with a turn out of a large number of the patrons of the school to wit- ness our closing exercises, and dismissed with kind words of commendation. EECOLLECTIONS. 31 In the spring, the first Sunday school ever held in that neighborhood was organized, which, we also, for the first time attended. There was no literature extant for Sunday schools at that time; frit we had our Bibles, and with these and good, pious teachers, no difficulty was found in making and keeping up an interest. Our program was: first singing, then prayer, next the Bible lesson and the recitation of verses, which we were re- quired to memorize. Afterwards the superintend- ent catechised the school on the lesson studied, and closed with singing and the benediction. At the first meeting of our new Sunday school, it was announced, that a pocket Bible would be given as a reward to the scholar, who, at the end of two months, had learned and recited the great- est number of verses, from the New Testament. Of course, this was the occasion of much excite- ment. Such a prize was rare, indeed, and many started in to obtain it, if possible. On the next Sabbath, I recited three chapters, and was among the foremost that day. This success added to my already fixed purpose, to earn the prize, others beside myself being equally determined to win. But on the third Sabbath there appeared a new contestant, a stranger lately come to the place, Julia Burnett, a girl of about thirteen, who re- peated, on that day, for her first effort, seven chap- ters in Matthew's Gospel. On the following Sun- day, she completed the Gospel of Matthew and recited several chapters in Mark; on the fourth Sunday, she finished Mark, and could have re- 32 RECOLLECTIONS. peated nearly all of Luke, had her teacher had sufficient time to hear her. This settled the mat- ter; she walked through the Gospels, and finished the New Testament. She took the prize, obtaining the much desired pocket Bible, bound in red mo- rocco, all the rest of us having thrown up our hats, and retired from the contest, long before the expi- ration of the two months. What the subsequent history of Julia Burnett was, I never knew, but she excelled in her ability to memorize any one of her age whom I have ever known. My father's intention, when he stopped in Ohio, in the fall of 1821, was to move on in the early spring. But in March, 1822, he was attacked with a slow debilitating fever, which continued until past-midsummer and prevented our going for- ward until the latter part of August. This delay discouraged Mr. Danforth, who concluded to go no further west but to find a home in that part of Ohio where we had wintered. During our stay in Hudson, my father had learned that an uncle of his, William Hob art, had settled in that part of Ohio, a few years before, and that his home was some twenty miles away, and made it convenient to visit him. He found that his uncle was dead, that his sons were scattered and that his daugh- ter Prudence was the only one of his uncle's family left there. She had married a Mr. Taylor. Her second son William Hobart Taylor, then just twenty-one years old, was at home with her and agreed to accompany my father to Illinois. But in consequence of his continued poor health we RECOLLECTIONS. 33 did not leave Hudson until the first of September. Then we were all in readiness, and started again with two teams, one driven by my father, the other, containing my grandparents and Miss Ruth Powers their granddaughter, was driven by our cousin, W. H Taylor. The country over which we traveled was new, and the roads rough and heavy. Roots and stumps were abundant and corduroy roads, of indefinite length continuous. Our route lay from Hudson, through Medina and parallel with Lake Erie, leaving Sandusky, twenty miles to the right, thence to Columbus, and then on to Dayton, where we turned south, and went to Cincinnati, where an uncle of my mother, Andrew Norris, had settled a few years before. We stopped in Cincinnati two days with a son of Uncle Andrew and then drove out twelve miles and stayed four days with Uncle Andrew Norris. On our arrival at the home of this uncle, who had had no intimation of our coming, we were wel- comed with a heartiness that I now recall very vividly. This visit was to our relations a most pleasant surprise, and a source of much joy. I remember our Aunt Norris, clasping my mother in her arms, then holding her off, clasping her closely again, and exclaiming "Why this is Ben's Sally!" While resting in this friendly home we assisted in gathering in the apple harvest. Before leaving, on Monday morning, we were well supplied with tubs and sacks full of fine apples, which we en- joyed during the remainder of our journey, and 34 EECOLLECTIONS. which were the last apples that we tasted for about nine years, or until we raised them ourselves on the prairies of Illinois. Our next drive was to Brookville in Indiana where we spent the night. After this, for ten nights and days we were in a densely wooded country without any regular roads, only such as travelers and frontier-men had improvised for their own immediate necessity. Neither was there any inn or place of shelter, so that we were obliged to camp out. This was a novel experience. There was no difficulty in finding a good camping place under the great beech trees and the beds of dry leaves that had been accumulating for years, but the trouble was to find good water. Hence every brook was noted as the spot in which to camp, and except on two occasions, we succeeded in finding camps well supplied with water, and in these in- stances we gathered an aromatic herb, known as spice brush, and knowing that the water was bad, boiled it and made spice brush tea to drink. Around these camping places, on the bark of the smooth beech trees, we found registered the names of many travelers, who had preceded us — with the date of their advent there, and the place from whence they came and where they were going. With special delight my father found the names of our friends, the Spencer's from Yergen- nes, who had taken the same route about a year previous. These ten days were especially wearisome and full of hardships. They served however, to de- RECOLLECTIONS. 35 velop one feature of American character, the ability to accomodate one's self to his environment. These clays of toil brought us to Terre Haute, where we crossed the Wabash river, and entering Illinois we drove to Colonel Austin's, near where Paris has since been built. His home was situated on the eastern border of that wonderful plat of fertility and beauty. "The Grand Prairie." This was the first prairie that we had seen in its natural state, and it is no exaggeration to say that in those lovely October days the sight to us was a grand one far beyond our expectations. We had looked to find "a prairie where a furrow could be plowed six miles long without striking stump, tree or stone," but here we beheld a prairie where a furrow one hundred miles long might have been plowed without the least obstruction. We had come to a halt at this spot late at night. Early the next morning, long before day light my father was up and had walked out a mile or two. After taking a good view of the country around he returned and informed us all, with much de- light, that if there were a more beautiful country or one more promising on earth or in heaven, he would like to see it! At this point we laid in "provisions for man and beast" for four days, as it was more than one hun- dred miles to the next house. Setting out again we drove on about twenty- eight miles and camped for the night at a small grove on the head waters of the "Okaw." We proceeded forward the second and third days stop- 36 RECOLLECTIONS. ping only to camp. This we were obliged to do at "the Groves," as in crossing the prairie these were the only places where wood and water could be found. As we approached these they looked in the distance like islands in an ocean of wavy grass, beautiful beyond description. On the morning of the fourth day at about 10 o'clock we came to a place where a few poles had been laid across the road, and a row of stakes ran off angling to the right, and on a board fastened to a stake were these words, "Twelve miles to Steven's." Not having learned yet the language of cross poles and angling stakes, instead of following the "stakes," as we should, we drove round the poles and followed the trail. This trail which we kept, was in fact the track of a lost Dr. Somebody, who had been the first to cross the prairie about four months before, and had been lost, as had been the travelers who followed him. This error led us about twenty-five miles out of our way, and was the hardest experience of our journey so far, nothing for ourselves or horses to eat, a road through slashes, creeks and mud. We camped at night not knowing where we were nor when we should get through. However, we started on the next day and reached Mr. Steven's about noon, glad enough to find food and shelter. Mr. Stevens lived about three miles west of the present site of the city of Decatur. His nearest neighbor on the east being Colonel Austin, whom KECOLLECTIONS. 37 we had left, and on the west Colonel Eogers who lived twenty-five miles distant. Here we remained three days to recruit, and the following Monday morning moved on, reaching the Colonel Eogers settlement that night. The next morning we drove on, crossing the Sangamon leaving Springfield several miles to the south and camped at the head of "Clary's grove," and the following day crossed "Richland creek" and kept the road on the south side of the grove as far as Harrison's at the head of the creek. We then set out for "Job's settlement" sixteen miles west across the prairie, hoping to get there before dark. In this, however, we were disappointed, as night overtook us when about half way across. To add to our trouble it began to rain, so that we could not see the road, and the only way to keep the trail, was for W. H. Taylor to pull of his boots and fol- low the path in his "stocking feet," guided by the sense of feeling. This was done, and by about 10 o'clock p. M. we came to Mr. Archibald Job's, and were comfortably housed for the night. This set- tlement consisted of four families, Thomas and David Blair, Arch. Job and Jacob White. The next day a drive of twelve miles brought us to the cabin of Timothy Harris, living at the foot of the Illinois Bluffs, and six miles east of the Illi- nois river. Here was the Ultima Thule of settle- ment. Beyond this or west of it, except a deserted cabin at Downing' s Landing, (now Beardstown) there was not a shanty that side of the Rocky Mountains, 38 KECOLLECTIONS. and north of it, not a resident nearer than Hud- son's Bay. Mr. Harris' cabin was about twelve feet square, and was already occupied by himself, a Mr. Brown, Ephram Eggleston, wife and six children. But stop there we must, and stop we did. To add to the novelty and strangeness of this situation there were about three hundred Potawatamie Indians camped along the creek just above the house. These with about as many dogs as there were peo- ple swarmed out to greet the new-comers, giving us a noisy welcome, and appearing as much aston- ished as if we were an embassy just arrived from the moon. That night the floor of the little cabin was ac- tually covered with beds, and these only accommo- dated about half of the company. The other half finding shelter in the wagons. To add to the em- barrassment of the crowded situation, the second day after our arrival Mr Nathan Eels, wife and seven children made their appearance at the cabin door. Two things now demanded immediate attention. First, bread — something must be had to eat! Secondly, shelter — a place must be made ready to live in! To meet the first necessity we gathered about twenty bushels of corn and shelled it. My mother took one of our teams and with my brother Norris went back sixty miles to where there was a horse mill to get it ground. While mother was gone on this expedition all RECOLLECTIONS. 39 hands turned out to cut and haul logs to build cabins for the coming winter. It happened that in getting the corn ground mother had succeeded better than father could have done had he taken it to the mill. When she arrived there were enough there waiting who had come before her to keep the miller busy for three days. But because she was a woman and had come so far, the generous hearted Illinoisians kindly waived their claim and allowed her to have her grist ground immediataly. On the fourth day she returned safely with her wagon load of meal, and found a kind of double log cabin well ad- vanced towards completion. In another day or two the cabins were ready for occupancy. Floors, made of basswood puncheons hewed; doors, and roof made of shakes, called boards, four feet long six to eight inches wide and half an inch thick, split with a froe, from white, black and burr oak. The process was to find a tall straight grained oak, three or four feet through, saw it into blocks four feet long, split it into bolts, and then "rive" it into boards. An experienced man could make boards enough in a day to cover a house, if the timber was good. The house being built we moved in, after which things were soon arranged so as to be comfortable for the winter. After this my father and Mr. Eels took the lat- ters' oldest son Nathan, and myself and went back to Clary's grove, forty or fifty miles to buy grain for 40 RECOLLECTIONS. the winter and coming summer. Here we found a job of gathering corn on the shares — one third for harvesting. We took twenty acres, which gave us about three hundred bushels for our share, as the team belonged to my father. Taking a wagon load to mill we returned with a supply of meal for the winter. The next thing was for my father to make a trip across the river to see the land he had bought. He was much pleased with the country; but not quite so well with his purchase, so far as the quarter section which he saw was concerned — it being heavily timbered and hilly. Still he determined to move over as soon as pos- sible. For this preparations must be made. Ac- cordingly he went back to the older settlements and traded a wagon, watch, etc. for a yoke of oxen, plough, chain, two cows and seven hogs. Another trip back to the settlement secured enough of meal and corn to last until mid-summer. All things being in readiness, goods packed and teams harnessed, on the 22d of February, 1823 we vacated the first cabin built and which we had oc- cupied about three months, drove six miles to the Illinois river, and staid with Mr. Eggleston, who had lately moved into the deserted cabin at Downing' s Landing. Here we were feasted on honey, taken from "bee trees" found in the neigh- borhood. The next morning, the 23d, we crossed the river on the ice. We proceeded up the river three miles when we crossed the bottom, drove up the bluff and stopped to cook and eat our dinner. While here we noticed bees flying around in EECOLLECTIONS. 41 various directions. With a little effort a bee tree was soon found, cut down, and the honey secured. A drive of ten miles then brought us to the prairie, we found a camp of basswood puncheons, which had been made a week before by two young men, Orris McCartney and Samuel Gooch, and in this we stopped. These young men had brought three hundred head of hogs from the neighborhood of Jackson- ville to fatten them on the "mast," (nuts and acorns) which was abundant. In three days we had a log cabin ready to occu- py, and were soon settled in it. This being neces- sarily hastily completed, my father, W. H. Taylor and S. Gooch, who had joined us, proceeded to build a more substantial house for our family about sixty rods west of the first house. This for three years was our home ; while the first cabin built, after be- ing made more comfortable, was occupied by my grandparents and their granddaughter, Miss Ruth Powers, who crossed the river about two weeks after us. This location was on the southwest quarter of the southeast quarter of section sixteen town two north of range one west, of the fourth principal me- ridian, school land, open for settlement. And we began to feel that our wanderings of eighteen months were ended. On the second day after our arrival, and while still in camp and the men busy in building, we were visited by about one hundred Indians, ( Kick- apoos) who were returning from their southern 42 RECOLLECTIONS. winter hunt, and had camped just across the prai- rie, about a mile south of us, this being one of their favorite camping grounds in their semi-an- nual migrations north and south. Their summer village and corn fields were at the head of Hender- son river, seventy miles north, just where the vil- lage of Henderson has been since built. These Kickapoos gave us their idea of aristo- cratic rank by saying: — "A Potawatamie lives on the river, rides in a canoe, and eats muskrats and mud-turtles; while a Kickapoo, lives on the high lands, rides on horse back, and eats venison." The Indians were very friendly with us from the first. They called my father "Postonie," or Boston man, to distinguish him from the men from the south, whom they called, Chemo-co-mon, or long knife. These people were around us more or less every day while they were in camp, and many of them were present and witnessed our exit from camp to cabin. When we had time to look about us, we found that our new home was located on a beautiful prai- rie, extending only about one mile east, but run- ning off west and northwest indefinitely. Fortu- nately, too, we had chosen a healthy situation, with no local causes of sickness in the vicinity. The springs of which we drank, ran north into Sugar Creek. One mile south, similar springs ran south into Crane Creek; and two miles west, the waters ran southwest into Crooked Creek. Had my father been a western frontier-man, he could scarcely have found a place in all respects more desirable. RECOLLECTIONS. 43 Game was abundant, bears, panthers, wolves, lynxes, wildcats, foxes, raccoons, 'possums, minks and. muskrats were plenty and were heard and seen in all directions. Deer, turkeys, prairie hens and quails swarmed in thousands. And what was not so pleasant, the snake family was fully and numerously represented. Those most to be dread- ed, were yellow rattle-snakes, prairie rattle-snakes, copper-heads and moccasins — the last the most feared and venomous of all. But our father was no hunter, and he never killed either a deer or turkey, although they many times came very near the house. Spring soon came, and all who could work were busy in preparing to plant as extensively and as early as possible. As the wild prairie land in that latitude produces but little the first year, we cleared and planted fifteen acres of timber land, besides, breaking twenty-five acres of prairie. From the timber land we had a yield of one hundred bushels of corn to the acre, and from the breaking a fair crop of corn, pumpkins, melons and turnips. Mr. Eggleston, whom we left at Downing's Land- ing, moved over with the help of our team about the first of April, and settled about a mile west of us. As the river was very high the family came up four miles to the "upper landing," where they were met by my father and myself. We camped in the bottom all night, and in the morning the horses were turned out to eat the fresh grass which was abundant. After eating breakfast, I was dis- 44 RECOLLECTIONS. patched to bring up the horses, which had wan- dered off about fifty rods. When I came to where they were feeding, my attention was attracted by a steady, dull, buzzing noise, which seemed to proceed from a spot near them. Approaching with great caution I discov- ered a huge rattlesnake coiled on a large moss covered log, giving notice to all intruders not to come too near. I had yet to learn that a snake could not rise from the ground in its attempt to strike an enemy, but supposed they could actually jump several feet. Hence, in order to be safe, I procured a dry pawpaw pole about twenty feet long. Coming within reach I struck him so as to break my pole, and knock him from the log. Yenturing a little nearer I multiplied my blows, and soon had the pleasure of fully bruising the serpent's head. This was the first yellow rattle- snake I had seen, and he measured over four feet. This was the beginning of a war of extermina- tion, by me, on this enemy of our race, and which eventuated in the lessening the numbers of the rattle-snake family, copper-heads and vipers thrown in, by probably a thousand. The third cabin built in the settlement was by Mr. Eggleston, on the southwest quarter of section sixteen. The next settlers were Samuel and James Turner, from St. Clair county, 111. They came in quest of health, having lived in the American bottom until they two were all who were left of the entire family, and they had suffered with chills and EECOLLECTIONS. 45 fevers until life was almost a burden. And these gentlemen built the fourth house. They never occupied their house, as intended. They returned to St. Clair county with the expectation of coming back in the spring to stay, but in this they were disap- pointed, as James sickened and died in the sum- mer of 1824, and Samuel returned alone in the spring of 1825. About the last of June, 1823, my mother and myself were taken violently ill with what we then called billious fever. Physicians were out of the question; there were none within a hundred miles. My parents, however, had considerable skill them- selves as nurses, knew something of the use of ordinary medical remedies, with several of which we were provided ; and they had in addition brave, trustful hearts and quite an amount of good com- mon sense. My father's treatment of the patients was successful, and in about two weeks I began to recover, and mother shortly after. During our sickness, our Indian friends were down from their village on their summer hunt, and camped near our house, and of course came to visit us. We had been greatly annoyed by the injury of our garden by deer, whose depredations were committed in the night. Knowing the skill of the Indians in detecting trails, my father took two of our Indian visitors into the garden, and pointed out to them the damage done. The two men walked through the garden looking carefully at the tracks, consulted together a moment, and then said: "There are two; one has gone north, the other east," point- 46 RECOLLECTIONS. ing in the different directions. Mounting their ponies they rode away in the directions indicated, and in less than an hour each had returned with a deer. This ended the poaching on the garden. The day following, the head of the clan, a sub- chief called Be-kik-a-nin-ee, came bringing a deer just killed. After selling us one quarter, he care- fully took out the tenderloin, and presented it to my father saying: "It for sick squaw." He directed that it should be well boiled, and some of the soup made from it given to my mother, remark- ing in a plaintive way: "May-be she get well." This Indian had been in the British army, and had been wounded in the battle of the river Baisin. This accounted for his being able to speak English. I may say here that the following fall while my father was in the woods, bee hunting, and about three miles from home, he met our old friend Be- kik-a-nin-ee on horseback, hunting deer. As soon as they came in sight of each other, the Indian wheeled his pony and came dashing up rapidly, jumped off and saluted him, by extending both hands and exclaiming: "How-te-too! How-te-too! How-te-too!" He then asked: "Keene-squaw- Nepoo?" (Did your wife die?) "No," replied my father; "she is nearly well." "Yeep! Yeep! Yeep!" he shouted, "Me go see her." And mounting his pony he laid whip for our house, which he reached on a quick run. When he saw my mother up and busy around the house, this manly fellow appeared as much pleased as if he were conscious of some relationship be- tween them. EECOLLECTIONS. 47 CHAPTEE IV. HIHE fall of 1823, following my mother's recov- ery, was one of special religious anxiety with her. It had been her earnest prayer, ever since leaving Vermont, that the Lord would enable the family in that new country to maintain a true, religious life. Now she began to plead still more earnestly, that there might also be public worship in the settlement, and an acknowledgment of God in the neighborhood. To this end she saw that a preacher must be sent, and a preaching place estab- lished, and for this she prayed. Late in the afternoon of a day in the early No- vember, while busy as she was wont to be, in her household care, a stranger knocked at the door. Before my mother there stood a tall, straight, gaunt man. He was clad in well worn Kentucky jeans, deer skin moccasins, coon skin cap and a rifle in his hand. A few moments' conversation gave to my mother the information that he was a Methodist local preacher, that his name was Levin Green, that he and his family, with his brother-in-law, George Stewart and family, were camped on Dutchman's creek, sixteen miles above on the Illinois river, that he was looking for a settlement, and that he 48 BECOLLECTIONS. and Mr. Stewart would proceed at once to put up a house for winter. Judge of my mother's delight and surprise at this direct answer to her prayers. Here was the preacher — and she quickly had it all arranged, and an appointment for preaching in my father's log cabin was given out for the next Sunday. In her eighty-ninth year my dear mother would joyfully tell of this circumstance — of God's goodness and faithfulness, as the hearer and answerer of prayer — and of her anxiety then, that her boys should not grow up without the public means of grace ; and of Levin Green's preaching and the good influence resulting therefrom. The arrangements for settling his family were soon made. They had traveled by canoe from be- low St. Louis, and with the assistance of my father's team and our united help, they were brought safely from our landing, (Fredericks- burgh). The two families were accommodated for the winter, in the house built by the Turners. On that first Sabbath in November, 1823, the Avhole settlement of thirty souls turned out, and we had a warm, earnest, pointed sermon. This was the first sermon preached west of the Illinois river. I well remember, that my heart was much moved under that sermon and that when, after it, he be- gan to sing: "There is a fountain filled with blood," and to pass around shaking hands with all in the house, I ran out of doors fearing that my emotions would overcome me, should I remain. Another appointment was made for preaching RECOLLECTIONS. 49 in two weeks, and thereafter was regularly con- tinued. Levin Green belonged to that remarkable class of men, so well known on the frontier line of ad- vancing civilization, previous to the advent of steam, as pioneers. Born where the howl of the wolf and the war-whoop of the savage were well- known sounds ; accustomed to supplying the larder from the chase, and to eating bread made of meal manufactured by the "hominy mortar" or hand mill; men, whose perceptive faculties were keenly developed, by the new and strange surroundings of their exposed lives, and whose resources, men- tal and physical, were by the very exigencies pressing upon them, nearly always equal to the demand. Our preacher, Levin Green, sprang from an an- cestry which had been on the frontier from the set- tling of Maryland and Virginia. He had stopped for a time in Kentucky; then on to southern Illinois; and thence to Missouri, leaving that state on its becoming slave territory; he now sought a home on the frontier of western Illinois. He could barely read intelligently, having had no literary or scholastic opportunities, but his natural ability, to memorize and to use what little he had acquired, was above the average. It made but little difference to him that the "King's Eng- lish" was murdered, in almost every sentence, he did not know it; and but few of his hearers were any wiser than he. To him, God, eternity, death, the resurrection, 50 RECOLLECTIONS. the judgment, Heaven and hell, were vivid and solemn realities. In many of his discourses, he spoke as if these were actually present, being seen and felt by him. EECOLLECTIONS. 51 CHAPTEE V. TO EE hunting, by which the settlers obtained J^ marketable honey and bees-wax which when taken to St. Louis could be traded for tea, sugar and other necessaries, was largely pursued, and it was the only way of obtaining supplies. Money was not to be had. There was none, ab- solutely none, in the country. Mr. Eggleston and my father went into partner- ship in this business, while another firm was formed by the three unmarried men, McCartney, Gooch and Beard, the latter afterwards became the proprietor of Beardstown. This firm sent, that fall, twenty-seven barrels of honey and several thousand pounds of bees-wax to market. Bees were then so abundant that it was no un- usual thing to find ten swarms in a day, and six- teen had been found. The yield of honey varied from one quart to thirty-six gallons per tree. In the spring of 1824 our settlement was still further and very pleasantly increased by the mov- ing over of Mr. Nathan Eels and family. This, my brothers, my sister and myself, con- sidered a most fortunate addition, as Mr. Eels' fam- ily included six boys and two girls. We now num- bered with those already named as settlers, and 52 RECOLLECTIONS. Mr. Thomas McKee and Willis O'Neal, the two last were about six miles south of us, all told, ten families in the Hobart settlement. On their annual winter hunt, the Indians, who occupied their camping ground one mile south of us, were frequent visitors. One day our old friend Be-kik-a-nin-ee called and stated, that the next day he intended to bring over his two wives on a visit to my mother. And the following day they came in good season, arrayed in their very best style — paints, brooches, broadcloth and calico. As Be- kik-a-nin-ee talked some English and we had learned a little Indian, we could and did keep up quite a conversation. In the course of the visit mother inquired of the chief, which of his wives he loved the best. This was a poser, and brought a very serious ex- pression to his face. The squaws meanwhile look- ing on and listening with evident interest. The husband of these two wives, however, proved himself equal to the occasion. He looked at them fixedly a moment, then turn- ing to my mother said with a solemnity of manner that was quite impressive: "They are both good, very good; they chop wood, dress the skins, cook the meat and build the ivigwam; that one, (the oldest) very good to take care of pappoose; that one, pointing to the other, very good, too ; she work, but she tee-hee-hee too much." Before leaving for the hunt, Be-kik-a-nin-ee brought some sacks of dried corn and beans, and asked to leave them in our loft or attic, until his KECOLLECTIONS. 53 return in the spring. Permission was readily granted and they were carried up the ladder and carefully stored away. On the return of the band in the spring, we were first made aware of their arrival by seeing their horses turned out on the prairie. The day following Be-kik-a-nin-ee, with others came to our house to inquire about the sacks which he had left. Father told him they were all right, and sent me up to hand them down. The Indian received them with evident satisfaction; took them out into the lane and placing them down in a pile, while the other Indians formed a circle around them, he made the following speech: "There," said he, "you said last fall, when I left these sacks of corn and beans here, that I would never see them again; that 'Postonie's' pappooses would eat them all up. I told you that they would not. Now you see they have not touched them. You have eaten your corn and beans all up, and you have none; I left mine here and now I have plenty." "Yeep! Yeep! Yeep!" said he as he swung his arm over his head and uttered his exclamations of triumph. The result of this was that the next fall, our loft was packed with more than fifty sacks: the corn and beans of most of the band. This practice of voluntary storage, and trust in my father's honor, was continued until the tribe removed to the Indian Territory. In the fall of 1823 a school was opened in the 54 KECOLLECTIONS. settlement, and W. H Taylor employed as teacher. This was the first school west of the Illinois river, We had about this time among us a young man, Isaac M. Bouse, a famous turkey hunter. He boarded with us and at my mother's suggestion he would, on almost any day, after an absence of an hour, bring in two or three fine turkeys. So that, during his stay with us, we fared sumptuously. Accessions to the settlement were now becoming numerous. David E. and Thomas Blair, Jacob White, Wil- liam, Jeol and Biggs Pennington, John Beeves, Samuel and Manlove Horney, J. D. Manlove and others came. These attracted their relatives and friends, and soon arrivals were no longer a novelty. A ferry was established at Downing' s landing, by Thomas Beard & Co., and the name was changed to Beardstown. In the meantime Cupid had been busy at his old trade in the hearts of Mr. Samuel Gooch and my cousin Miss Buth Powers, and in due time, our first wedding, in what is now Schuyler Co., was solemnized by Bev. Levin Green. About the same time a new wonder arrived. In the home of Mr. and Mrs. Ephraim Eggle- ston, a baby was born, and this little girl was the first white child born in Schuyler county. In the spring of 1824, my father organized and superintended the first Sunday school in the coun- ty. It numbered about fifteen members, and had a salutary influence in the community. RECOLLECTIONS. 55 It has been stated by another chronicler of these early days, that the first Sunday school in Schuy- ler, was organized by David Manlove; this is a mistake, as at this time D. Manlove had not yet come into that part of the country. So that when- ever credit appertains to the organization of the first Sunday school in Schuyler Co., belongs to Calvin Hobart, my honored father. 56 RECOLLECTIONS. CHAPTEE VI. 71 T the time of which I am now about to speak, fa) I was in my thirteenth year. From our first coming west, I had been conscious of what I can- not better describe than by calling it a hunger for knowledge. This wide world, that was lying all about me; its great rivers and mountains, its mil- lions of people, its kings and countries. What were they? Who were they? How did they acquire power ? What was the history of all these things ? These and a thousand other questions clamoring for an answer within me, led me to devour our own limited assortment of books and to long for more. It had been my practice, to call upon each family so soon as they moved into the neighborhood, and to borrow all the books they posessed, which I had not already read. This I continued to do until 1826, when up to that time, I believe, I had read every book which had been brought into the coun- ty- ' This primitive "circulating library" although it had many dificiencies, was in many respects of great advantage to me. It however led me off, in- to too great an extreme in some directions, while, in others, it left me in ignorance of many things KECOLLECTIONS. 57 which I needed to know. On the whole, it largely increased my world of thought, and improved my stock of knowledge. Pilgrim's Progress, I read in my tenth year as a veritable history, and thought, when Christian and Faithful had been imprisoned by Giant Despair, and almost murdered — and, then after, when Chris- - tian said, "I have a key in my bosom, which will un- lock any door:" — "What a simpleton! It would be no great matter if you were killed, when you knew you had a key to let you out and didn't use it!" Weem's Marion, I almost knew by heart, so also his life of Washington, Goldsmith's histories of Greece, Rome and England were devoured. A fine work on Heathen mythology, was much enjoyed. Guthrie's Geography of fifteen hundred pages, only stimulated my appetite for more of the same de- finite information, and which was gratified soon after, by the perusal of a still larger work combin- ing Geography and History, borrowed from Squire Davis. The last named work gave me the best idea of the political changes in Europe, from the fifth to the fif- teenth century, that I think I have ever had. Lo- renzo Dow's Cosmopolite, bound with Peggy Dow's vicissitudes, gave me much pleasure. The burning zeal of Dow, and the fervent piety of Peggy, made impressions upon my heart and life that have not and never will be erased. Many times, while reading, I was blinded by the tears which I could not keep from flowing. An increasing earnest- ness in prayer and desire to have my life right in 5 58 RECOLLECTIONS. the sight of the Lord, were the beneficial results produced. During the summers, thunder storms were fre- quent, and of great severity. Though I did not like to acknowledge it, I had a great dread of them. So to protect myself, I had a habit on these occasions of taking my Bible, and sitting down as closely as possible by my dear mother's side and reading until the storm was over; thinking that if killed with lightning while reading God's Word, it would be bettter with me than otherwise, and also that God would, if I were so employed, be less likely to permit the lightning to injure me. In my thirteenth and fourteenth years my reli- gious convictions were deep, and my heart tender. Thoughts of eternity, Heaven and hell, so im- pressed me that I could find relief only in secret prayer, then the burden would for a time be lifted ; many a night, during these years, I have lain awake weeping and praying until my pillow was wet with my tears. And yet through all this, such was my pride, or sensitiveness, bashfulness or cowardice, or all combined, that I would not permit any one to speak to me on the subject of personal religion, without in some way antagonizing it. Nor did I let any one know during those years what my real feelings were. This condition, which was known only to my- self, and which, it ought to have been overcome, either by admonition, or consciousness of duty, was an occason of loss, and deprived me of the RECOLLECTIONS. 59 great privilege of serving God in my boyhood, with an assurance then that I was His child re- deemed by the blood of the Son of God. I feel on reviewing the past, as if I had by a strange willfulness, or obstinacy or bashfulhess, cheated myself of, at least five years of earnest re- ligious life. To meet the growing necessities of our growing settlement, father had built a band mill, a primi- tive affair, driven by horse power, which would grind two or three bushels of corn an hour. This was of much benefit to the neighborhood, though it proved of but little pecuniary advantage to its owner. Before its construction, we had been dependent on hominy mortars, tin graters or hand mills, for our bread. This was the first mill in the county, and my father the first millwright. His next enterprise was in company with two other men, to get out a raft of logs. These were cut along the Illinois river. Upon the raft were placed several thousand staves — intended for the St. Louis market. In April they were taken down and sold, which sale procured a supply of goods and groceries for the season. During these years, had the opportunity been afforded, my brother Norris and myself would have become expert hunters, the game was so very abundant. As it was, we took the barrel out of an old musket stock — (Queen's Arms') and tied in, an old rifle barrel, brought up by the Turners — improvised a pair of bullet molds, and with this 60 RECOLLECTIONS. unsightly affair, furnished a plentiful supply of prairie chickens. In the spring of 1824 we enlarged the farm by breaking about thirty acres and putting the whole, into corn and oats. The crops were good and food abundant, but there was no cash value for anything. Corn was, in trade, valued at five cents a bushel, oats so plenty that there was nobody to buy. Good cows with calves, eight dollars in trade, and every thing else cheap in proportion. We procured our amunition by hunting racoons and foxes, and selling their skins at St. Louis. This for my brother and myself was fine sport, and at it we became quite successful. Father, during the winter and spring, was mostly occupied, either by working at his trade in Beards- town, rafting, hunting bees, or disposing of the re- sults of his labor at St. Louis; while the enlarging of the farm, plowing, hoeing, etc., was done by my twin brother and myself, under the supervision of our mother. Before the sickly season came, my father re- turned home, as it had been ascertained that but few could remain on the river during June and July without running the risk of being taken down with some form of bilious disease, usually chills, shaking ague or bilious fever. Father's return home, was joyfully hailed by us all, but by no one, I fancied, more than by myself. There had been from my earliest recollection a feeling of companionship between my dear father EECOLLECTIONS. 61 and myself which was to me a source of great de- light. From the fact that I had always been larger and stouter than my twin brother, I had been usually the one selected to go with him when help was needed; and so had come to be depended on, in our early boyhood, when the work required of us was expected to be done. In my father's absence, I was "the miller" at the band mill, so his coming home during the winter released me from this duty, and was improved by Norris and myself in trapping quails and rabbits, and in preparing flax for spinning. Another oc- cupation, at that time, was in assisting mother in her part of the labor of preparing material for the clothing of the family. This consisted in preparing the flax, carding the tow, helping to put in the web, and an occasional hour at the spinning wheel, at which, I must con- fess I was, in my own estimation, an awkward hand. But we were brought up to be industriously occupied, and to contribute, so far as we were able, to the welfare and comfort of the family. Even our recreations, and of these we had an abund- ance, and all that our childhood and growing years demanded, were to be made conducive to our own and others' advantage. We knew almost nothing of fun and nonsense, which means too often a getting rid of time, be- cause we were little folks. And to habits of in- dustry, acquired in youth, and to some proper val- uation of the importance of time, I am indebted for whatever I have been able to accomplish in 62 RECOLLECTIONS. after years, that has been of service to others, and satisfaction to myself. The associations of these days of boyhood and early yonth were in some sense peculiar. Around us mingled two tides, or essentially different types of life. The New Eng- land, or Puritan, called Yankee, and the Southorn. The latter, especially, were of that class, who, from their abhorrence of slavery, sought a home free from its influences. The Yankee, with his characteristics of thrift, shrewdness and enterprise, regarded the person of another as sacred. His differences, if settled at all, must be settled by law. He could talk, scold, or even quarrel, but never did he think of defend- ing his rights vi ei armis. The Southorn, with his generosity and hospi- tality, thought nothing sacred except his reputa- tion and his word. He never questioned a man's veracity, unless he intended to fight him the next moment; nor did he allow his own word to be dis- puted by any one, without like Eoderick Dhu, set- ling that matter on the spot. Growing out of these differing peculiarities, the settlers in our community were formed, ere long, into two social circles; the one composed of Yankees of strictly moral and religious habits ; the other given to various excesses, among which were drinking, gambling, dancing, &c. Hence our associates were selected from the families of the religious, and were, in the main, free from vicious habits. To this, which must be attributed to the sterling integrity of our parents, I owe it, that I RECOLLECTIONS. 63 was preserved from the vices, which ruin so many young lives, and lead so rapidly to their destruc- tion. Now, in my seventy-fourth year, I take pleasure in recording that, through the grace of God and the avoidance of contaminating influences in youth and early manhood, I have the pleasure of looking back on a life of social purity — not stained or marred by dancing, swearing, drinking or gam- bling. From all these evil practices, which swarmed around our young settlement, my life has been free. To me, as I regard it, this experience is full of encouragement to parents and guardians, who in humble dependence upon God and the promises of His holy word, are adding to their example, their own earnest faithful efforts to train their children in the fear of the Lord. As is the sowing, so is the reaping, and this is eminently applicable to parents who permit their children to form vicious habits, or who allow them to mingle with improper associates in their youth. Children taught obedi- ence to parental law, are prepared to render obedi- ence to the laws of God and man, and they only are likely to have a prosperous and useful life. In the fall of 1825, my father sold the farm on which we had lived two years, and from which we had gathered three harvests, and then estimated to be the best farm in the county. At the same time he purchased the southeast quarter of seventeen, and immediately adjoining it on the east, the im- 64 EECOLLECTIONS. provements on the southwest quarter of sixteen, first settled by Mr. Eggleston. We now began to enlarge the farm on sixteen and also to open and build on seventeen. Pushing matters as rapidly as possible, in the spring of 1826, we moved on to section seventeen. At the same time we arranged for my grandparents, who had for some time, indeed, since the marriage of their granddaughter, Ruth Powers, to Mr. Gooch, lived with them, hereafter to make their home with us. We also commenced to build a horse mill, to be run by a forty-four foot wheel. To do this it was necessary to manufacture the mill-stones from boulders in the neighborhood. This was done dur- ing the winter, and the only "smith's" shop where tools could be repaired was six miles south of us. It was therefore necessary that my brother and myself should travel this distance every other day, to keep the tools in repair. This we did on foot, not a house on the way. On these trips, which were mostly through the forest, it was no uncom- mon thing to see hundreds of turkeys, and scores of deer, while wolves, foxes and smaller game abounded. A fall of snow would often reveal the fact that all our former calculations of their plen- tifulness was an under-estimate. The following spring, immigration increased largely, and new settlers arrived in swarms. In August Rev. Wm. See, then stationed on the Peoria circuit, which extended a hundred miles along the east side of the Illinois river, came on EECOLLECTIONS. 65 an exploring expedition across to the west side, down by way of Lewiston to my father's house. In some way, notice had been received of his com- ing, and a two days' meeting had been appointed. Quite a number of Methodist people were now in the settlement, and a church was on this occa- sion organized of over twenty members. All joined by letter except W. H. Taylor, who united on probation, and was converted a few days after- wards. This was the first conversion in the coun- ty, and I think the first west of the Illinois river. In the spring of 1827, my father moved his build- ings from his first location on section seventeen to the west side where there was a fine spring of water, and more desirable surroundings. The house which he then built, and which he occupied while he lived, was built of logs. It was forty-five feet long, and contained three apartments. The east room was occupied by my grandparents, and the middle one was our parlor and guest chamber. The mill, on which we had been working, was started in the spring and was of great value to the adjoining country, as an inducement to hundreds to settle. It was also a financial success. Peo- ple living at a distance of forty and sixty miles came with corn and wheat to be ground; for to its other conveniences was added a "bolt," turned by hand, as wheat was now raised in abundance. Our house, which had been the preaching place from the time of the first sermon by Levin Green, was now the regular place for preaching by the circuit preachers, who came once in three weeks; 66 EECOLLECTIONS. the intervening Sabbath's service being held in the same place by Levin Green and others. One beautiful Sunday in August, after a search- ing sermon by Levin Green, when the congrega- tion had all dispersed, a young man named Joseph Reno, remained seated in the back part of the room. My mother observing him, with his face buried in his hands, spoke to him, when with trembling voice and flowing tears he said: "Aunt Sally, I want you and Uncle Calvin to pray for me." These were the names by which my parents were known througout that part of the country. Young Reno's request was immediately complied with. Earnest prayer commenced, not only for his conversion, but for a general reformation in the neighborhood. This was the beginning of one of the most sweeping revivals I have known. It con- tinued for over two years ; spread through all the settlement, and hundreds were converted. During the meetings of those two years, the cries of seekers, the prayers of Christians, and the songs and exultant shouts of the converted might have been heard at a great distance. Nearly all who were converted, united with the church and were steadfast, proving the genuineness of their con- version by upright lives, or glorious and triumph- ant deaths. During these stirring times, my own religious life was to me then, and is to me still, an unsolved enigma. My heart was in the work — I was pleased to see it prosper. I was in the habit of attending all the meetings, and when I saw a "sinner" begin RECOLLECTIONS. 67 to tremble, and endeavor to hide his tears, I would quietly slip around to some of the "brethren" and ask them to go and talk to such and such a one. Then I would watch while these were being led to the mourner's bench, observing them with the keenest interest, and finally when they had strug- gled through and were converted, I was almost as ready to shout as the converts themselves. And yet I did not yield, nor confess to any one that I wanted to be a Christian, though keeping up all the time in secret a form of prayer. My brother Norris became an earnest seeker for many months, but refusing to join the church when he knew that it was his duty to do so, he did not find the blessing which he sought. Our first quarterly meeting in Schuyler county was held in 1827, by the renowned Peter Cart- wright, at the house of Levin Green. At this quarterly meeting occurred the first baptism in the county, and we now considered the Methodist Episcopal church as established in the county. The first class organized by William See, at our house, had now grown into three classes. Regular circuit preaching, first by Rev. William Medford and then by Asa D. West, the present cir- cuit preacher, and our settlement a regular ap- pointment on the Atlas circuit. And of all those who rejoiced in this progress of the church and spread of the truth, there was not one so delighted as my dear mother. • In the fall of 1827, I accompanied my father to St. Louis. We went down the river in a skiff, 68 EECOLLECTIONS. camping out and shooting geese and ducks in abundance. The day after our arrival, father went down to Carmi, about a hundred miles further on, to attend to some business matters, leaving me for several days in the city with friends. While there, I soon fell in with a lad of about my own age, and together we took a job of cleaning out a keel-boat, and taking care of it while it was being loaded for the Missouri river fur trade, earning about two dollars apiece. While engaged in this work, one day, the steamboat, "America," the best then on the river, came in from Pittsburg, and landed immediately below our keel-boat. At night we built a large fire on the shore, around which soon gathered ten or a dozen lads of about our own age. When there, enjoying ourselves, we were startled by a splash in the water and the sight of a man just disappearing under the guards of the boat, and sinking in water about fifty feet deep, where was a perpendicular lime-stone bank. The largest boy of the company, and who happened to be near- est to the river, rushed down and fortunately caught the man by his clothes and pulled him out. Dripping, and as we soon found drunk, as well, we helped him to the fire. While the poor, unfor- tunate was there warming and drying himself, he said to his rescuer in a hiccoughing way, for his plunge had not quite sobered him: "I am very much obliged to you, my young friend, for pulling me out of the river." "Yes, I guess you are, or ought to be," returned the boy. "If I had not caught you just as I did, I expect you would have EECOLLECTIONS. 69 been in hell now, and the old devil would have had you on a big pitchfork, and would have been roast- ing you." To this sentiment, the wretched man appeared to assent, while the company of boys around the fire, by their seriousness and gravity seemed to appreciate the point. On my father's return we made a fine sail up the river, making thirty miles the first day. On this trip when near the mouth of the Illinois, father shot an immense grey eagle, measuring be- tween seven and eight feet from tip to tip. About this time he also bought for my brother and me, our first rifles. My earnings in boat cleaning while in St. Louis procured the ammuni- tion, and we felt, that at last, we were well equiped for hunting. Thus prepared, we took good heed that what- ever time could be spared that winter and afterwards from caring for stock and our usual winter work, should be devoted to hunting. We looked mostly for turkeys, raccoons, foxes and similar game, and of these we killed a great many, and considered ourselves quite expert hunters. On one afternon, when we had each killed a tur- key and were nearing home, just about dark, we saw a large owl fly into the dense top of a lofty elm tree. "Stop!" said my brother, who stood ready to discharge his gun. "Let me shoot him!" Instantly he fired into the tree top, when to our surprise down fell the owl, shot as centrally as if Norris had known just where he sat, when the fact was, it was too dark to see anything clearly. 70 RECOLLECTIONS. A good opportunity was, this winter, afforded us of exercising our skill as marksmen. We were then wintering a herd of cattle in the Illinois bottom, and were in the habit of salting them every two weeks. During that season I killed fifty-five turkeys, six being the largest number killed in any one day. In the spring of 1828 Norris and I told father that he might consider himself excused hereafter from farm work; that he might employ himself as he thought fit and that we would attend to the stock and the work. This agreement, which gratified father very much, was faithfully adhered to by us as long as the family remained unbroken, and was a helpful arrangement to all. The next spring we were early at work, putting in the crop and enlarging the farm. We pushed business so far ahead, that we also found time to attend school three months during the summer. But in order to do this, and keep everything up, it was necessary to plow and hoe from four until eight in the morning, and from five until eight in the evening. This we considered no bur- den and accomplished it with satisfaction, glad of an opportunity for self improvement, and literary culture. In July I was attacked with the ague, and had seventy-two shakes in seventy-two days. This re- duced my strength very much and released me for a time from labor. But nobody on this account thought me entitled RECOLLECTIONS. 71 to much sympathy or attention, nor considered that I was very sick. It was only «the "ager" — which everybody had, and which would end when frost came, which I found that it did to my great relief. The next fall I made a very pleasant trip to St. Louis with my father, in a large canoe or pirogue, and which trip resulted in making me somewhat skilled as a waterman. In the fall and winter of twenty-eight and twen- ty-nine, A. W. Dorsey taught the school in our neighborhood which I then attended. From Mr Dorsey I first heard of Abraham Lin- coln, who had been one of his pupils the previous winter. Mr. Dorsey remembered young Lincoln kindly, spoke of him frequently, and would say, "Abraham Lincoln is one of the noblest boys I ever knew and is certain to become noted if he lives." I might be permitted to add here, although it may be considered to savor of egotism, that Mr. Dorsey also spoke of my resemblance to Lincoln on several occasions. He would some- times natter my vanity, by saying, "that he would be greatly mistaken if Chauncey Hobart and Abra- ham Lincoln would not each be heard from in this world," after a while. The July following, both of my brothers were laid aside with the ague. This sickness of theirs, afforded me an oppor- tunity for a playful retaliation of their boyish pranks on me the previous year, when I had been 72 RECOLLECTIONS. similarly laid aside from work. Then when too feeble to run, they would amuse themselves by throwing squashes or other missiles at me, just to laugh at my awkwardness — in trying to avoid them. But I was merciful in my fun at their expense, as I could appreciate their feelings, from my own, the year before, and preferred to do what I could to make their confinement endurable, rather than miserable. KECOLLECTIONS. 73 CHAPTEK VII. 71 BOUT the first of May 1831, the community ©'I was startled with the announcement that the Indians, at and near Bock Island, under the leader- ship of their chief Black Hawk, were threatening the destruction of the whites in that vicinity; that the few regulars at Fort Armstrong, were un- able to bring them to order; and that a brigade of mounted volunteer riflemen, was to be raised, and marched immediately to the scene of action. This news was soon followed by the Governor's Proc- lamation and call for men. As soon as the call was issued I, announced my determination to go, as a volunteer. To this father at first was rather unwilling to assent, but when the time came, he not only consented that both my brother Norris and myself should go, but indeed felt strongly inclined to accompany us him- self. Our company of one hundred men was organized, by electing Hart Fellows captain, Wm. C. Balls first lieutenant, and all the other officers. Governor Joe Duncan took command, and, as our county lay immediately on the line of march to Bock Island, we were ordered to wait until the 74 RECOLLECTIONS. brigade came, when we (Captain Fellows Co.) were made part of the "Fourth regiment, Illinois volunteers," fifteen hundred strong. We marched in four columns, the baggage train keeping the road, and two regiments on either side. Ours being the extreme left. To most of the men this going to war was a time of rare frolic and nonsense. To us frontier boys, accustomed, as we had been, "to roughing it," most of the time, and to all kinds of wind and weather, the camping out in blankets under the stars, and marching through heavy rains, were not considered hardships; we vastly enjoyed it; we thought it was royal fun. Guards and scouts, however, were regularly de- tailed, as if there was danger near; but nothing occurred to interrupt the jollity of the march to Rock Island, not even the occasional mishaps of some luckless wight, as when a stumbling or skit- tish horse would throw his rider, or some such accident. The catching of the "runaway" and the adjustment of the traps again, would serve but to increase the merriment. On our fourth night out, we were camped on the prairie, on the north side of Pope river, about thirty miles from Black Hawk's village on Rock river. During that day our scouts had captured and brought in two Indians who pretended to be Potawatamies, but who were in reality sent out by Black Hawk as spies, to ascertain the strength of the army approaching him. This started the re- port that there was a large body of Indians near us, RECOLLECTIONS. 75 and that we might expect an attack that night. This some believed, but the most of the boys re- garded it as a ruse to try their temper, and laughed at it as a joke. Sure enough, about ten o'clock at night, the whole army was aroused by the firing of the guard, and the order was given to form in line immediately. Those of us who were expecting this, or something like it, regarded it as a false alarm to test the grit of the men, and, of course, we stood ready, firm and calm. A few, however, were terribly frightened, and felt inclined to show the white feather, so that after all, the false alarm, which it proved to be, answered the purpose for which it was gotten up, admirably. The next day, when about half way to the In- dian village, we were met by one of Gen. Gaines' staff officers, and were ordered to turn to the left, and camp on the Mississippi, about ten miles below Black Hawk's village. This was thought wise and politic, as it brought our army in full view of the Indians, and gave them an idea of our strength, and allowed them to leave in their canoes for the west , side of the Mississippi, if they would, and so avoid bloodshed. The following morning, as we marched up to- ward the village, Gen. Gaines left Fort Armstrong and came down towards the same point with his artillery, and opened fire, not on the village but on the hiding places of the Indians round about. This plan succeeded admirably, and the Indians took to their canoes and left. Our brigade then crossed Rock river by ford and ferry in one of the 76 KECOLLECTIONS. most drenching rain storms, and camped that night, in the deserted bark huts of the town (Black Hawk's village. ) After destroying the corn fields we burned the village and then camped three miles above, where the city of Kock Island now stands. Word was soon afterwards sent to Black Hawk to come in and make a treaty. But this he refused to do, until told that "the wild men," (our brigade) would be sent after him if he did not. He then came in, and after several days were spent in parleying, he agreed that the Indians should not come on the east side of the Mississippi river, more than two at a time, unless they were permitted by the Indian agent. This ended our first campaign in the Black Hawk war, having been in the service about thirty days. Black Hawk's village was the largest Indian town in the west. It is supposed to be the place where, during the British war, Tecumseh had assembled all the western Indians and united them against the Americans. The band of which Black Hawk was chief, was composed of Sacs and Foxes, and was known as the British band. It is well known that when the northern part of Illinois was bought from the Indians, Black Hawk did not attend the treaty; would not and did not agree to sell, and refused to leave. But as all the tribe, except this one clan had sold, his stubborn- ness was not considered worthy of much attention. And so, when the settlers began to get near him again, he was as hostile as he dared to be, acting as if they were trespassers on his rights. On an EECOLLECTIONS. 77 occasion of this kind, Gen. Gaines told him that if he did not behave, he would send the soldiers from the fort to make him. At this, Black Hawk scornfully dared him to execute his threat, saying menacingly: "If you do, I will make my squaws whip your regulars and run them .back to the fortt" 78 RECOLLECTIONS. CHAPTEK VIII. C^OON after our return home, father engaged to ^ assist our neighbor, Mr. Chadsey, in erect- ing and starting a saw mill, which the latter was building on Sugar creek, near the Illinois bottom. This was well known to be an unhealthy place. The sickly season was coming on, and we felt much anxiety as to his health, while thus occupied, know- ing that he was remaining there on this work at the peril of his life. But because of the warm friendship existing between Mr. Chadsey and him- self, the desire of the people to have a saw-mill started, his own need of lumber to finish a barn he had commenced building, and with a feeling, too, of security against the unwholesomeness of the loca- tion, as he had not been sick a single day since coming into the State, my father disregarded our warnings and fears, and remained at work until August, having then completed the mill. On his return home he was feeble and restless, and did not seem like his cheery self. Mother be- came at once alarmed, and anxious, and commenc- ed the use of all the remedies of which she knew, to nurse him back to health and strength. But her efforts were in vain. In a short time his EECOLLECTIONS. 79 symptoms developed into a serious attack of bil- ious fever. The best physicians in the county were sent for, and all that skill could do, was done. Sympathiz ing friends by the hundreds were at hand, to do all that their kindness and good will could prompt. Probably there was scarcely a man in the county who had not been in some way helped and benefited by my father. This fact seemed at this time of our sorrow to unite the whole com- munity in an effort to lighten our burden, and to prevent, if possible the dreaded result. But it came. Nothing checked or seemed to modify the disease which had attacked him. It held on stead- ily to its relentless grasp, until about six o'clock on the afternoon of the twenty-seventh of August, when the great brave heart stood still. The mortal struggle ended, and the true noble soul, joined the unnumbered hosts of the glorified. He was hid from our sight: had entered that world where there is "no more death, and where sorrow and sighing are unknown." But he left us so lonely. He had only reached the age of fifty years, and, had always been so strong and vigorous. Of my father it may be truly said that, for moral integrity he has had few equals. He loved what ever was true, and just, and right, above every- thing else, and he hated the false, and the mean, with equal intensity. This phase of his character was the only occasion of an unkind feeling toward him so far as I have known. What he thought wrong he denounced, honestly 80 EECOLLECTIONS. and fearlessly, in friends or enemies. And what he believed to be right, he unflinchingly upheld and approved, decidedly. No one mistook his position or needed to be in doubt as to where he stood on all moral questions. So that on this part of the battle field of life, a grander fight than his was never fought. More than fifty years have passed since that sad hour, when he was taken from our home and life, and in these years my opportunities for ob- serving character have been many and varied ; yet as a man and a citizen of elevated tone and princi- ple, and of unswerving adherance to what he be- lieved to be right, he is still my model. In his early Christian life, my father felt called to preach. This he shrank from, as involving, he thought, too many and too great responsibilities. On the birth of his twin sons, however, he solemnly dedicated them to the Lord, entreating Him to accept them for the work of the ministry in his place. My dear, honored, much loved father! Our re- union, and companionship will in due time be con- summated, and its unmeasured joy will be the counterpart of my unutterable sorrow at our part- ing. This sad event changed, probably, the entire course of my own, and brother's lives — all our plans were altered. It had been our purpose, when we came of age, to go to Texas, which was then a foreign country, and struggling for its independence. And we had KECOLLECTIONS. 81 determined, when there, if energy and daring could win us honor or position to make these our own. But now we could not think of leaving mother, and the two younger children. Duty said, our place was to care for these, and so far as we might, to fill together a father's place to those he had left. 82 RECOLLECTIONS. CHAPTER IX. n~7HE winter, following our great loss, was spent by us in getting in logs and sawing lumber, in order to complete the barn which father had be- gun. In the spring we had but just finished getting in the crop, when the whole country was again start- led by a call for a brigade of mounted volunteer riflemen to repulse the invasion of Black Hawk, who had crossed ^the Mississippi, fifteen hundred strong, and was marching up Bock river to the terror of the frontier settlements. To this call of Governor Reynolds, a quick re- sponse was made. Rushville, the county seat of Schuyler county, and Wo miles and a half from our home, was made the place of rendezvous. There the brigade was organized by electing Samuel Whiteside, general. Schuyler county fur- nished two companies. Samuel Hollingsworth was captain of the Rushville company. It was agreed between my brother and myself that I should volunteer, and he would remain at home to look after the family. I was elected cor- poral of Capt. Hollingworth's company. In four days we reached our first objective point, Oquakee. RECOLLECTIONS. 83 We were then ordered to an island in Rock river, where was the village which we had destroyed the year before. We remained on this island five days until sup- plies arrived and then a battalion of infantry composed of regulars and volunteers was formed. Our supplies were mostly placed on board a keel- boat of which this battalion took charge, and we (Whiteside's brigade) were ordered up Rock river, in pursuit of Black Hawk and his band. General Atkinson, who commanded the expedi- tion, remained with the infantry and keel-boat, while General Whiteside was expected to keep in communication with the party on the river. This was too slow work for our boys on horse- back, and Whiteside determined to dash on to ''Dixon's" ferry a hundred miles further up, al- though we had but three days rations with us. This point was reached on the third day; and we found Major Stillman, who had been there about four days, with two hundred and seventy- five men. These, being an independent battalion, they were ordered by Gov. Reynolds to proceed up Rock river as a scouting party, and learn what they could of the whereabouts of Black Hawk. Stillman left the next morning taking his bag- gage train and provisions along, while our brigade was obliged to wait for the keel-boat for supplies. In the mean time our rations ran short and no help could be had until the infantry came up with them. 84 RECOLLECTIONS. The few hogs and cattle which the settlement of half a dozen families afforded were soon exhausted, and we were living on less than half rations, having really out ran our orders. About two o'clock on the third morning after Major Stillman had left, we were startled by the report of a straggler from Stillman's battalion stating that there had been a desperate fight with Black Hawk, and that Still- man and all his men with the exception of two or three were killed. And that the Indians, fifteen thousand strong, would be upon us before daylight. This aroused the camp. The men were sent to bring in the horses — many of them miles away. Our scanty breakfast was hastily eaten, and by sunrise we were two miles out on the prairie. During the march up Hock river to the battle field, we met squads of Stillman's men who were perfectly demoralized, and saying we would find Indians by the thousands just ahead of us. When we had proceeded about twenty miles we came upon the indications of the fight: dead horses, blankets, guns and other articles which had been dropped in the flight. And before we had reached Stillman's camp we had found the bodies of ten white men, and two Indians who had been killed. These we buried, and then camped on the battle field. We soon learned the particulars of the scrim- mage of the day before, and found that Black Hawk ha d vacated his camp and fled up the river to parts unknown. Our want of provisions pre- vented our following him, and we returned to Dixon. RECOLLECTIONS. 85 Here we waited two days, when our supplies ar- rived. As our brigade had been called out for only ninety days, and as war was now a certainty, Gov- ernor Reynolds issued a proclamation for three brigades of mounted volunteers for six months to rendezvous at Ottowa. In the meantime Gen'l Whiteside was ordered to proceed up Rock river and Sycamore Creek, cross the big prairie to Fox river, and protect the frontier as much as possible until the other brig- ades should be organized. This was done, and on our meeting the brigades at Ottowa we were mus- tered out of service, and returned home. My brother Norris then volunteered, and spent the summer scouting along the frontier settlements between the Mississippi and Illinois rivers. In December, 1833, my mother was married to Joshua Ticknor, Esq. As the two younger children went with mother to the home of Mr. Ticknor, my brother and I were left to run the farm by our- selves. 86 EECOLLECTIONS. CHAPTEE X. r[7HE year following this event was filled up with farm work, also by my brother's going to New Orleans on a flat boat, and by my teaching a three months, school. It was in the November of this year that there oc- curred that remarkable meteoric display, which has made memorable November thirteenth, 1833. On that wonderful occasion almost any point of the heavens on which the eye was fixed appeared as a centre from which the "stars" were shooting in all directions, and this continued from midnight until daylight. People were generally much alarmed. Horns were blown here and there to arouse the people. Many thought the day of judgement had come, and the end of all things was at hand. Others took this wonderful phenomenon as obtusely as a neighbor of mine who said, he thought that was the way the stars went out every morning. With myself and brother Truman, as we observ- ed it together, it was a matter of intense curiosity and interest, but without, to me, any feelings of alarm. I had been for some time previous to the events KECOLLECTIONS. 87 already narrated, captain of a militia company, and being widely and favorably known throughout the country, my social and political prospects were rather flattering, having already held several offices of public trust. We had kept a large tent in order, on the camp ground, for mother, for several years, in which we had frequently entertained at a dinner as many as sixty persons. And yet in all these years although keeping up the habit of reading my Bible and of secret prayer, I had in no way committed myself outwardly to a religious life. In the latter part of February 1834 I had attend- ed a protracted meeting at Rushville, which had for some time previously been in progress under the conduct of Rev. Wm. C. Stribbling of Jackson- ville, Illinois, and T. N. Ralston and Peter R. Borein, the two last, being the preachers on the Rushville circuit. This meeting was held in the Eushville Court House. Sunday, February twenty-fifth, had been spent by myself and a party of young ladies and gentle- men in sleigh riding. We had come to Rushville, intending to attend church in the evening and ride home at night. Accordingly we went to church. In a moment, almost, after the text was announced, I found my- self intensely interested in the discourse that fol- lowed. Every thought was given to the subject treated. The text was from Rev. VI., 17: "For the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand?" The divisions of the sermon 88 RECOLLECTIONS. were: First, "Days of God's wrath;" second, "Great days of God's wrath;" third, "Greatest day of God's greatest wrath." The speaker was Wm. C. Stribbling. A tall spare man, with long face, large mouth and swarthy complexion. This awful theme was then in the hands of a master, and seldom has its presentation on that evening, been equaled. The parting heavens, the descending Judge, the angelic host, the arch-angelic shout, the resurrection trump, the rising dead, the triumph of the redeemed, and the wailing of the lost — were all brought before us, as in living reality. None, I think, seemed unmoved, while many cried aloud in terror, and agony. This discourse was followed by a powerful ex- hortation from Bro. Ealston, and then by an over- whelming pathetic and tender invitation to seek- ers, given by Bro. Borein. The sermon had stirred me mightily; the exhortation and invitation had deepened conviction until I was nearly on the point of yielding and going forward to the mourn- er's bench, determining almost to seek God then and there; but just at this moment a good brother, Ayers, a neighbor of mine, came to persuade me to go forward. This aroused my old, troublesome spirit of antagonism, and I refused to go, refused to commit myself. At the close of the meeting, however, and as I went out of the house, a terrible fearfulness seized me; an awful dread lest the day of grace had passed, RECOLLECTIONS. 89 and that the door of mercy had been closed against me forever. I seemed to see, that if it were not already too late, this was God's last call to me. And from all my subsequent history I have every reason to believe that this was really so. I wept and prayed all the way home, and although it was a great cross to me, went and asked Bro. Ayers to come in and pray with me. My dear mother, who had returned home with me, also prayed for me most earnestly. For three days and nights my soul was in agony and distress, unutterable, inde- scribable; I read my Bible and prayed almost con- tinually. I attended the meeting the next evening, and contrary to all my former habits of taking a seat where I should not be observed or spoken to, I then took my place in the very front seat, and on the bench to which mourners would be invited. I knelt with these, prayed, sought, wrestled and used every means of grace within my knowledge. At the end of these three days the keenness of my agony passed away, and I was conscious of a little hope; but I was unwilling to accept this as con- version. On Monday night, February 26th, I joined the church as a seeker, thus committing myself pub- licly, and as fully as possible, to the cause of Christ. The protracted meeting ended; but still, as a seeker, I attended all the prayer and class-meetings within reach, as well as the preaching on the cir- cuit, and the private means of grace. In the meantime Bro. Borein had appointed a two days' meeting in MacDonough county, (a point 7 90 RECOLLECTIONS. on our circuit, ) to be held the tenth and eleventh of March. This appointment was fifteen miles away. The day before the meeting commenced, Bro. Wm. H. Taylor came and spent the night with me, and insisted on my going to the two days' meeting with him the next day. We talked together until a late hour that night. He understood my condition much better than I did, and among other things he told me that I must immediately begin to discharge duty by confessing Christ in public; that I must speak in the love-feast the next morning, at the meeting, and go right forward in the discharge of every public and private religious duty, leaving results with God. We went on, and the following morning he handed me, at the house of Bro. Jack- son, where we had stayed in MacDonough, the Bible, telling me to lead in family prayer. This I did not dare to refuse; so, taking the book, did the best that I could, but with much shrinking. At the love-feast I told the people in a broken sort of way, what my convictions and purposes were, and that I had determined to serve God. When, to my astonishment, on taking my seat, there came over me, and into my heart, a calm, sweet peace, and a consciousness that God was reconciled and that I was accepted of him such as I had not known be- fore. He became mine and I was His. This was the great event of my life; "old things had passed away, and indeed all things had become new," and from henceforth my one work was to serve God. On my return home, I erected the family altar, which has been a tower of strength and of comfort RECOLLECTIONS. 91 to me from that day to this, and has never fallen down. My family, at this time, consisted of my aged grandmother, ninety-three years old; my sister Lizzie, who assisted in caring for our grandmother, and my youngest brother, Truman, who was attend- ing school and living with me. On the fifteenth of the following April, 1834, I was married to Miss Betsey C. Ticknor, eldest daughter of Joshua Ticknor, Esq., my stepfather. We made a happy household. Life, which, since the death of my father, and the marriage of my mother, had seemed desolate and often dreary, be- came full of the old time cheer and brightness, with the added joy of the Lord now in my soul. In May, my brother, N orris, returned from New Orleans, with health much impaired, and in the following August he was happily converted at a camp-meeting, held near Rushville, and united with the church; and in the following September he was married to Mary, youngest daughter of my stepfather, Joshua Ticknor, and sister of my wife. My sister, Elizabeth, and Greenburg G. Dorsey, Esq., being married at the same time and place. In the preceding June the cholera had broken out in Rushville. Many had died, and among the first that were attacked were about twenty men who were known to be habitual drunkards. This alarmed the people, who fled from the town in great numbers; but among those who, like brave men, stood at their posts, caring for the sick and burying the dead, were Rev. John Scripps and Bro. 92 EECOLLECTIONS. Borein. It was hoped that this terrible scourge would not spread beyond the village, but it did. On the fifteenth of July, my nearest neighbor and good friend, Bro. Ayers, was attacked. I sat up with him until daybreak. He died soon after. In a few days my dear old grandmother died in her ninety-fourth year. She had survived her husband a year and a half. Her death was fol- lowed by that of father Ticknor. Here the disease seemed to stay, after having carried away about sixty persons. So terrible was the thought of this destroyer, that it was difficult to procure help to take care of the sick, or to perform the last sad rites for the dead. In the cases of three who died in our neighborhood, I took care of them alone, and was one of four, who laid them away until the morning of the resurrection. During these few terrible weeks our religious meetings were suspended, but with returning health they were resumed and with increased enjoyment. RECOLLECTIONS. 93 OHAPTEE XL TN the June of which I spoke in the last chapter, I -*- had been appointed assistant class leader, and in the following September, steward. These official responsibilities were helpful by way of prompting me to duty, extending my acquaintance with the work and usages of the church, and accustoming me somewhat to public speaking and to leading in church matters. Our preacher, on the Kushville circuit, for 1834 and 1835, was Kev. W. H. Window, a young man recently from England. Intellectually and theo- logically he was above mediocrity, but entirely unacquainted with our American frontier life and its peculiar usages. My duty as steward lead me to visit the circuit extensively; and as "the table expenses" of the pastor were collected mostly in provisions, and had to be taken to the preacher's home, I was fre- quently at his house, and our intercourse afforded me excellent opportunities for mental improvement. The leisure of the winter and spring was occu- pied in reading several theological works, and in attending the quarterly and two days' meet- ings on the circuit. To enable us to do this with- 94 EECOLLECTIONS. out pecuniary loss, Norris and I were in the habit of plowing by moonlight, so as to gain time to at- tend the meetings on Saturday. In our neighborhood "class," several of us, among whom were my brother and myself, covenanted to visit and pray, each week, with some one of our neighbors, who was unconverted. This induced quite a revival spirit, and resulted in the conversion of a number at our class and prayer meetings. In the next year, June, 1835, Norris and myself were licensed to exhort by Bro. Window, having been recommended by the class. This was unexpected by me, and caused me to hesitate long about the propriety of accepting; but after humble, earnest prayer and many tears, I reasoned about it in this way: "If these good brethren think that I ought to exercise this gift, it is my duty to do the best I can, and at least give them a chance to correct their error, if they have committed one, in appointing me." Consequently I sent out three appointments for the next three Sabbaths, leaving one Sabbath in four to spend at home. These appointments were kept up during the summer, and were sometimes seasons of great liberty and religious enjoyment; and at other times, the heavens seemed brass and the earth iron, and I was much discouraged. But I considered it important that I should make a fair trial, so that the quarterly conference, when called upon to act in my case, might not be in ignorance, in regard to me, and so went on. Just before our fourth quarterly meeting, Bro. Window called and said that he should ask EECOLLECTIONS. 95 the class to recommend me for license to preach. This I endeavored to persuade him not to do, tell- ing him that it was altogether improper. And al- though I was very weary, having had an unusually hard day's work, I rode two miles in the evening, with the intention of opposing this proposed re- commendation ; for as I saw it, I was not competent to preach. When the matter, however, was brought up I had a strange conviction that I must not say a word. And the result was, that the brethren very cordially recommended me. As this was what I had neither planned nor de- sired, nor made any calculations for, I shrank from it, oh, so much; but finally comforted myself by thinking: these good friends and kind brethren have done this for fear of hurting my feelings; when the quarterly conference comes to act on it, they will certainly see the impropriety of such a course, and will just renew my license as an ex- horter, and then I will be all right. The camp-meeting for the circuit that year was to be held at Pulaski, twenty miles from home. The membership of the circuit being about six hundred, and of the quarterly conf erence,over fifty. In due time (September, 1835,) the camp-meeting came on; and when my case came up in quarterly conference, I retired into a corn-field, and prayed most earnestly that God would interpose and guide in this affair, and that He would permit nothing im- proper or wrong to be done. Upon my return, I learned that Norris and myself had been licensed to preach, and also Bro. Granville Bond, whose case was 96 RECOLLECTIONS. under consideration when I retired. Thus, almost against my own convictions, feeling myself un- worthy, and but poorly qualified to assume such serious responsibilities, I was, in obedience to what I dared not doubt to be the Godly judgment of my brethren and fathers in the church and the will of God, ushered into the ranks of the great, grand army of Methodist preachers. Our first work as local preachers, was to appoint a two days' meeting at Uncle Azel Dorsey's, twelve miles west of us. Bro. Bond, my brother and my- self had to assume the responsibilities of preaching until Sunday, when we had the promise of assist- ance from Rev's. D. B. Carter and W. H. Taylor. We entered upon this enlarged field of work with much solicitude and many prayers. As the idea of this meeting had originated with me, it was ar- ranged that I should preach the first sermon on Saturday, at eleven o'clock a. m. This I did as well as I could. We were looking for the promised help on Saturday, before the evening meeting, but as it did not come, my brother preached at night; and we had a time of much seriousness; the spirit of God being manifestly present. In the morning, we had a good love-feast, and Bro. Bond preached well. On Sunday morning Bros. Warner Oliver and C. J. Houts, exhorters, came ; the latter speak- ing at three o'clock in the. afternoon. For the Sunday night meeting, the following, was our plan, I was to preach, and if I felt like it, call for mourners. If not, Brother Oliver was to exhort, and if he felt like it, he was to call for RECOLLECTIONS. 97 mourners. If not, my brother Norris was to exhort, and if he felt like it, he was to call for mourners. If not, Bro. Bond was to exhort and he was to call for mourners, whether he felt like it or not. Take notice — we were four boy preachers. At the appointed hour I preached, and then gave way to Bro. Oliver. He exhorted and then gave place to Norris. He exhorted and then ven- tured to call. By that time Bro. Bond could stand it no longer, and he began to exhort in another corner of the room. At the same moment I too, without previous purpose, began also to exhort in another part of the room. The holy fire began to burn wonderfully. Seek- ers rushed forward to where each of us stood and knelt down at our feet, — sixteen seeking souls pleading with God. We then all knelt and prayed. There were not less than forty, supplicating, weep- ing, earnestly entreating, all at once, and yet there was not the slightest approach to disorder. In a short time one was converted and began to shout. Then another to praise God, and shout, "glory! glory!" until little else could be heard, but shouts and praise. Looking up I saw uncle Azel Dorsey, who had been unable to walk without a cane for years, rush- ing through the house and over the benches shout- ing and praising at the top of his voice, without a cane or other support. While Aunt Nellie his wife, a very quiet Christian lady, was clapping her hands and praising God aloud, something she had never done before. 98 KECOLLECTIONS. And well they might rejoice, two of their sons had just been joyfully converted. Before the close of that meeting thirteen united with the church. This greatly encouraged us and removed many doubts as to the life work which was opening be- fore us. My work as a local preacher was now fairly in- augurated. The circuit preachers this year were Wilson Pitner and W. T. Williams. There were twenty-eight appointments and about six hundred members, with ten or twelve local preachers and exhorters. My regular appointments were as in the three months previous, every fourth Sunday at Sugar creek, at Lamasters and at Astoria. These were only interrupted by the circuit preaching, quarterly camp-meetings, and two days' meetings. The last we managed to hold about every four weeks, and with our host of warm heart- ed loving members, local preachers and exhorters, in attendance, they were often seasons of very great power, at which many were converted; clear- ly and satisfactorily saved. Late in the fall I appointed a two days' meeting, at Sugar creek, at which point I had been exhort- ing and preaching for over a year. This place which had been among the most lawless, had been much benefited by the year's work and by the meeting at this time, at which my brother and Isaac Linder, an exhorter, assisted me. This meeting was one of great power. It began with considerable interest, which grew more and more intense until sixteen were converted or re- BECOLLECTIONS. 99 claimed. As the result of this meeting a class of about twenty was formed, and the place became from that time one of the regular points for circuit preaching. Sometime in the latter part of May, our band of "local itinerants" had planned to hold a two days, meeting at old Bro. P — s, twenty miles south of me. I could not get away from my corn plowing so as to get there until late Saturday evening. When I arrived the brethern informed me that I was to preach on Sunday, at three o'clock P. M. I decided to speak from Ezekiel XXXIII., 11, on which Scripture I had been bestowing consider- able thought and study. I felt some confidence that in consequence of this, my sermon would be an improvement on my former efforts. The time came. The afternoon was sultry and hot. The house a log cabin twenty-four feet square, from which beds and furniture had been removed. There was also a wide porch on each side. Every spot was crowded full, and it was close and op- pressive. After the opening exercises I took my text, "As I live, saith the Lord I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, Oh house of Israel?" My intention had been to speak princi- pally from the clause, "Why will ye die?" For about two minutes I said what I had planned to speak of as an introduction. Then all at once my plan, sketch and previously arranged thoughts, utterly vanished. Not a shred, or clew, or thought of them remained; and catch them I could not. t ofC 100 BECOLLECTIONS. "A horror as of great darkness," came over me. I could scarcely see across the house. The room became dark. Yet there was nothing to do but to keep on talking. This I did for about fifteen minutes and then sat down, desir- ing nothing so much as to get out of sight of every one as fast as possible, and get into a hole some- where. My confusion and mortification were great. I felt as if I never could try to preach again. Even now I shudder to think of the desolate- ness of that hour; and had it not been that an ap- pointment for the next Sabbath was out, and there was no one else to fill it, I think it doubtful if I should ever have attempted to preach again. This experience, painful as it was at the time, proved of lasting benefit. I learned from ft, that however much the study, or thought, or human effort may be to expound God's Word, all is vain without the presence and help of the Holy Spirit in the heart. And that to reach other hearts the power must be of God. It was with much trembling that I went to my next appointment the following Sabbath. But the Lord was with me ; I climbed to the mountain top and had, by far, the best time in preaching that, up to that date I had enjoyed. This encour- aged me greatly, and in humble dependence on divine power I studied and worked and kept up my appointments through the year. These ex- periences led me to ask in great solicitude and with deep seriousness — the absorbing, and to me RECOLLECTIONS. 101 awful question, "Am I called of God to preach the Gospel?" There was such a shrinking back from the re- sponsibilities, which were involved in an affirma- tive reply, that at times the thought nearly over- whelmed me. My own unworthiness for the sacred calling; my lack of school culture, and thorough theologi- cal training, would confront themselves in my mind with the impression from childhood that sometime, God would call me to preach; and with the remembrance of the many exhortations which as a boy I had given to sinners to come and seek the Lord, and which filled me with gladness, when only the birds and the trees were my audience. The memory too, that I had been dedicated as a Methodist preacher, to God, from my birth, by my sainted father; my own joy in the work, and most assuring of all, the seal of His approval, which had attended my humble efforts as an exhorter and local preacher, in the conversion of many souls; all led me to ponder, again and again, the great question of my life work. Towards the close of the year, I found my con- viction of the duty of devoting myself to the preaching of the Gospel growing in strength. In September (this was in 1836) my poor rebel- lious heart was led still more to yield obedience to the voice of God within me, by the death of our first born, Sarah Emiline, a lovely babe, given to us in April and left with us but four months; then she was borne to the "upper fold." The 102 RECOLLECTIONS. little tabernacle, which she occupied so short a time, sleeps in the Kushville cemetery, with a little brother and sister, who also died in infancy. All these doubts and fears and hopes as well, were finally settled by me in this way: I solemnly covenanted with the Lord, that if it was His will, made evident by the wish of the church, I would give up all opposition, and devote my life to the work of the ministry, and do, with His help, the best I could. And if, after an honest effort thus to do his will, I found that I could not succeed as a preacher, then I would return to my farm work and a Christian life of usefulness; but I was to be forever after free from the burden of a call to preach. The mental and great bodily labor which I had undergone that summer reduced my strength and health, so that at the fourth quarterly meeting for the year, which, as usual, was held in connection with the camp-meeting, I was too feeble to be of any assistance, though I enjoyed the camp-meet- ing, which was an excellent one, very much; and I found myself greatly benefited by the few days rest, and the freedom from care and anxiety. At this camp and quarterly meeting, Peter Cartwright being presiding elder, I was recommended for re- ception on trial in the Illinois conference, together with my brother Norris, C. J. Houts and Warner Oliver. RECOLLECTIONS. 103 CHAPTEK XII. n"7HE conference this year, 1836, met at Rush- ville, and was held in connection with the camp-meeting for that station. The preachers came from Green Bay, Lake Su- perior, St. Peter, (Minnesota) Prairie dn Chien, Cairo and Shawneetown, a glorious band of heroic men. John Clarke, Salmon Stebbins and Alfred Brunson, were leading the battle along the north- ern frontier. Bartholomew Weed and Henry Summers took all of Iowa, and a good share of northwest Illinois, and southwest Wisconsin in their districts. While Charles Holliday, S. H. Thompson, John Dew, John YanCleve, Asahel E. Phelps and Peter Cartwright were marshalling grandly the hosts of the Lord in their great fields. The business sessions of the conference were held in the church in Rushville; while the public religious services and preaching were con- ducted at the camp-ground, a mile away. As we had a large tent on the camp-ground and old friends by the hundreds to care for, I could see but little of the conference; save what was to be seen and enjoyed and heard, on the ground. 104 EECOLLECTIONS. On Sabbath, Bishop Morris preached, and or- dained the deacons at eleven o'clock a. m. ; and A. Branson gave us a rousing missionary sermon in the afternoon ; after which the elders were ordained. I learned during the Sabbath, that on the Satur- day before, when the "first question" had been taken up in conference, that in answer to the in- quiry, "who have been received on trial?" the record read: "Warner Oliver, John P. Bichmond, Chauncey Hobart, Norris Hobart, C. J. JHouts, Ahira G. Meacham, William H. Taylor, William Haney, John Jordan, David King, David Hotch- kiss, John Crammer, T. W. Pope, Elijah Cor- rington, John C. Hamilton, Stephen Arnold, Daniel G. Cartwright, Asbury Chenowith, B. W. Clarke, John Shepard, Amos Wiley, Annis Mer- ( rill, Isaac Poole, James B. Woollard, Joshua Barnes, Arthur Bradshaw, Samuel Pillsbury, George Smith, Isaac I. Stewart and John De- morest." The camp-meeting closed on Monday noon, and on Monday evening, Peter B. Borein, at the church, gave the missionary address on the occasion of the missionary anniversary. What John Summerfield was in the east, flaming with eloquence and holy zeal, was Peter B, Borein in the west, during the five years preceding his death. On this occasion, he began with a description of the missionary spirit, as seen in the Evangelical churches, and especially in our own church; traced this wonder- ful influence back to McKendree, Abbott, Asbury, Wesley, Fletcher, Whitefield, Knox, Latimer, EECOLLECTIONS. 105 Ridley, Cranmer, Luther, Zwingli, Melanchthon, Wyckliffe, Huss and Savonarola; found it work- ing mightily in the hearts of Augustine, Hilary, Ambrose, Chrysostom, Irenseus and Polycarp; burning in Paul and Silas, in Peter, Stephen and John; seen in matchless power in the Pentecost, and in the loving life and glorious death of the world's Redeemer. Back of this, climbing the heavens and scanning the Infinite, he found it flowing in ocean fullness, from the very heart of God. His peroration was an eloquent portrayal of its final and glorious triumph; in its grand and universal consummation, amid the apocalyptic glories of eternity. The effect was simply overwhelming; we de- scended to the contemplation of earthly things again just a little, when, after singing the mis- sionary hymn, John Clarke, missionary from Lake Superior, stated, that he had three Indian boys — George Copway, John Johnson and Peter Marks- man — who had been soundly converted and who wished to spend a couple of years in school; that they could be accommodated at Ebenezer Institute, near Jacksonville, then under the supervision of Dr. Peter Akers, and all that was needed was the money to pay expenses. In response to this ap- peal, three thousand dollars were raised imme- diately. On the next day, the appointments were read, and I found that I was set down for Rockingham circuit; Henry Summers, presiding elder. My 8 106 RECOLLECTIONS. brother, Norris, was sent to Burlington circuit. Both appointments were in Iowa. Rockingham was a speculators' town, long since abandoned; located on the west side of the Missis- sippi, opposite the mouth of Bock river. A class of sixteen had been organized at this place, by Rev. C. D. James, the previous summer. Excepting this, there was no other organization, class or ap- pointment, on what was intended to be Rocking- ham circuit, and which was to include all the set- tlements west of the Mississippi and above the lower Iowa river; a stretch of one hundred miles on the river and as far back as the settlements extended. Xo church, no parsonage, no steward; not an official member, save one class-leader, and his name I did not know. To take my wife to this work was impossible; and so it was arranged that she and her sister (my brother's wife), should live together at my house, during the winter, at least, while we went to our* circuits. Our preparations were made as rapidly as pos- sible. Outfit and saddle-bags procured, on the third of November, 1836, my brother and I, leaving pur wives in tears, started for our circuits in the Black Hawk jmrehase, since known as the grand State of Iowa. We traveled together as far as Burlington, having spent the Sabbath at Augusta, on Skunk river, where I had })reached at ten o'clock. Aiter that we rode on to Burlington, intending to hold meeting there that evening, but we found a Bro. Shelton, an exhorter, who was filling an appointment of his own. This was the RECOLLECTIONS. 107 principal point on my brother's work. The next morning we parted, he starting westward, and I north, in company with Bro. Shelton, for Rock- ingham. Our route lay along the Mississippi; we followed the trail under the bluff, where, in some places, it was made passable for wagons and in others difficult even for horsemen. I spent the first night with Bro. Swank. The next day I rode on and in two and a half days reached Rocking- ham, in a drenching rain, and was kindly received by Bro. Davenport, the class-leader. Once on the ground, the next thing to do was to learn the extent and population of my field of labor. Leaving an appointment here, for the next Sabbath, I proceeded to the town of Davenport, five miles above. There I gave out another ap- pointment for Sabbath, at three o'clock p. m., and rode up the river and stopped with a good Bro. Herald. The next day I rode eight miles further on and left an appointment at Father Spencer's for two o'clock p. M., Tuesday, and rode back to Father Davenport's. Here I found Rev. Daniel G. Cartwright, who had been appointed to the Iowa mission. This would bring Bro. Cartwright and myself to occupy, in part, the same ground. This mistake had arisen from the fact that Rev. Peter Cartwright, when at Burlington, having learned that there was unoccupied ground above Burling- ton circuit, had organized for this, the Iowa mis- sion; while Rev. A. Brunson, having learned, when at Rock Island, the same facts, had organized the Rockingham circuit, and preachers had been sent 108 RECOLLECTIONS. to each. Bro. Cartwright preached for me at Rockingham, and then went with me up to Daven- port, where I preached. In the evening, Bro. Shelton held forth at Rockingham, and I left an appointment there to be filled in two weeks. It was arranged, in view of the mistake which had been made by the elders, that Bro. Cartwright should take the country south of Pine river for his circuit and I all north of it for mine. This divi- sion was continued until spring, when all north of the Iowa river was given to me. The week was occupied in hunting up members and professors, and in filling the appointment at Father Spencer's, who, by the way, was a brother of my father's old friend of that name, from Yermont. On one of these rides, in going along an Indian trail, I met a man hunting his horses, who, when questioned about preaching places and religious people, excitedly replied, that he did his own preaching. When asked if his neighbors did the same, he gruffly made answer: "They do." I soon learned that he was one of those wicked, swearing, reckless men, who, without any pretense, even, to that claim, like to call themselves Universaliste; one of the kind that always gets mad at the sight or thought of anything looking to a religious effort. Biding on I dined with a young man of the name of Hubbard and left with him an appointment for preaching in two weeks, Wednesday, at eleven A. m. Three miles on, I left another appointment, at the house of the father of young Mr. Hubbard, for the same Wednesday at candle lighting. These EECOLLECTIONS. 109 two points were a few miles above the present city of Le Claire. I then rode five miles further and spent the night with a Mr. Pineo, who, I de- sire to say, would accept nothing in the morning as compensation for my entertainment, which in those days and in that country, was something rather unusual. The next morning a ten mile ride brought me to Brophy's Ferry, on the Wapisipinecan. Here I learned that there were but three houses above this point for the next twenty miles, and only one of these occupied by a married man. As Brophy, the ferryman, was a bachelor, there were four houses, containing four men and one woman, in a stretch of thirty miles. This information ended my search for preaching places in that direction. I then took an Indian trail for Bock Island, and reached Davenport, after a hard ride, crossing many bogs, creeks, sloughs and marshes of a dole- ful character, and spent that night with Bro. Cook, below Davenport. This excellent brother, now Judge Cook, is still living at the same place, a good man and true. Thursday, I went down the Mississippi to learn how frequently, and where, I could preach in that direction. I had heard of an old Bro. Camp- bell, who lived three miles below Clarke's ferry, and I thought to stay that night with him. Ac- cordingly I rode up to his cabin door a little before sundown. Being somewhat bashful, about an- nouncing myself a Methodist preacher, I simply inquired for entertainment. The old gentleman 110 RECOLLECTIONS. replied in a hesitating way that he did not make a business of entertaining travelers; adding that at a house a mile back. I could probably be accomo- dated. Lingering a moment, after this reply, and seeing that he had evidently made up his mind in the matter. I rode back. Iffy mistake here was, in not introducing myself at once as a Methodist preacher. This would have secured me a welcome as I learned afterwards. TThen I reached the house, a mile back, I was again refused, and di- rected to the next house above; thus retracing the road I had traveled. I rode on for the ''house above/' and was again refused, and sent to the next house, that of Mr. Eobinson, a Presbyterian, and of whom later I learned to think very highly. Mr. Eobinson assured me civilly, that they were full: two families being already in one log cabin. The next trial was to be made at the tavern at Clarke's ferry, Xew Buffalo. Eiding back. I reached the ferry house about dark. I had observed when riding past this place on going down to Mr. Camp- bell's, that the whiskey shanty adjoining the house was the scene of a drunken row. judging by the sound of blows, blaspheming, and brutal yelling. When I came back to it. fi*om my last halt, they were still at it, making the night hideous with their cursing and howling. I asked the landlord, if 1 could be accommo- dated there for the night, and the reply was, only with great inconvenience to myself and my horse, as he was full, with a lot of rivermen. I inquired if the men in the shanty were to stay KECOLLECTIOXS. Ill all night, and on being informed, that they were, I turned away, mentally declaring that I would not stop in sneh a pandemonium as that. Again rid- ing back to Mr. Robinson's I informed him of the situation of things at the ferry, and that I could not stop there, I then said: "You have hay and corn for my horse, and I have money to pay you for them. If you will feed my horse and permit me to sleep by your haystack I will be greatly obliged." To this he did not answer, but followed me as I started towards the stable. After I had pulled off the saddle, he took my horse and fed her, and I, taking saddle and saddle-bags and blanket, went round to the south side of the hay- stack and commenced preparing a place in which to sleep. It was a dark night, the wind being from the northeast, and a cold November mist falling. He stood for a while watching me, and then said very slowly, "I reckon you had better come into the house." I replied, "I can sleep here, but I would much rather sleep on your floor if you will permit me." "Come in," was his answer, "we will do the best we can." Gladly accepting the tardy invitation, I went in and was made quite comfortable. The next morning, I rode down again to Bro. Campbell's, and this time, told him who I was, when he admonished me, in a fatherly sort of way, for not telling him that I was the preacher, the night before. Leaving an appointment with him for two weeks from that day (Friday ) I pursued my explorations down to Pine river. 112 RECOLLECTIONS. Having the next Sunday unoccupied, and being fearfully lonely and homesick, I crossed the Mis- sissippi and rode down to Monmouth, to spend the Sabbath with Father McNeil, Bro. West and other old friends of my father, and of my youth. I preached at Monmouth early on Sabbath morning and again at eleven o'clock a. m. Staid there three days and returned to Eock Island, where I found Bro. John Spencer, son of my father's old friend from Vergennes. This gentleman, a grand, good man, has since been honored as Judge Spen- cer, of Rock Island. I also take pleasure in here recording my remembrance of the Christian kind- ness, and hospitalities received not only from Judge Spencer, but also from his wife, a lady every way worthy of him. I also gratefully remember the courtesy and thoughtful care of Bro. Wells and family, and of Messrs. Hartzell, father, grand- father and uncles of Dr. Hartzell now secretary of the Freednien's Aid society. Leaving my horse at Bro. Spencer's I crossed the river in a skiff, this the thickly floating masses of ice made very perilous at that time. Then bor- rowing a horse, filled my appointments and ar- ranged a two weeks, circuit of seven preaching places, extending fifty miles along the Mississippi. At the end of the first quarter I returned home, and during my stay of ten days there, held a two days' meeting which resulted in ten conversions. At Hickory Grove which was an additional ap- pointment made during the second quarter, I met a Mr. Keys with whom I had quite an interesting KECOLLECTIONS. 113 talk on the subject of Universalism, and I especi- ally remember this as being the first one I had had, on a subject which has since engaged my best thought, and which I have discussed hun- dreds of times. It occurred on this wise, we were at the house of Bro. Carter, who purposely urged Mr. Keys to remain all night in order that he might engage us in a religious controversy. Soon after tea, Bro. Carter quite adroitly managed to draw out Mr. Key's views on the subject of a Christian life, and future punishment; when, as was to be expected, Keys bitterly denounced or- thodoxy in general and Methodism in particular. Bro. Carter, at once, turned to me with the in- quiry, "What do you think of that?" "What are your views?" Shrinking from involving myself in a controversy, I calmly replied; "I do not look at the matter that way, I regard religion as bene- ficial here, and necessary for our well-being here- after." The arousement of Mr. Keys was imme- diate. He went on vindictively to assert, that it was slandering the Almighty to suppose that He, whose nature was love, and whose wisdom, power and goodness were infinite, would permit one of His creatures to be miserable eternally. To this I answered "that if God's infinite wisdom, love and power, were certain to save all men finally from sin and sorrow, I could not see why these perfec- tions did not prevent sin, sorrow and suffering here in the first place ; that God was now, no better, or wiser, no more loving nor powerful than He was when man had sinned; that if men could sin and 114 RECOLLECTIONS. suffer a day or an hour, and the Almighty continue as wise, good, powerful and loving as He had ev er been or ever would be, then there was nothing in the divine perfections, to keep men from sinning and suffering eternally." To this he angrily responded: "Everybody knows that the Bible says, that as all men had borne the image of the earthy; so all were to bear the image of the heavenly; that all were to be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, and be caught up and be forever with the Lord." I replied, that in I. Cor. Chap. XV., from which he quoted; "the change, spoken of, was the resurrection of the body, and the changing of the then living, from a state of mortality to im- mortality, and not a moral change; that when Adam sinned, his soul lost its spiritual life, and became dead in sin, and his body lost its means of perpetuating its natural life, and must die; that Christ had secured the resurection of all men from the dead, and had brought all within the reach of eternal life, but that the final salvation of adults, depended on the choice they made and the life they lived, and, that was proved by the words of Christ Himself; John V., 28-29, when He said, 'the hour cometh, when all that are in the graves shall hear His voice and shall come forth, they that have done good to the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation. "Here" said I, "Is damnation after the resurrection.' " RECOLLECTIONS. 115 In a torrent of excitement he exclaimed, "It don't say so! It is not so!!" "It certainly does," I replied, "it is written just so!" "It don't!" he cried, "I will give you my horse, if it does!" "I don't want your horse," I said, "neither do I want to dispute with you, so we will get the Bible and see." A Bible was brought, Bro. Carter handing it to me, I turned to the passage, and read, as quoted. "You don't read it right!!" he thundered. "You are just making it up, it ain't there!" "Well" said I, "there it is," handing him the book, "read it for yourself!" He took the book and read, or pretended to read, and then slamming the Bible together ex- claimed, "It ain't so! The Savior never said it!*' At this, Bro. Carter began to laugh, and said, he hoped Mr. Keys would hand over the horse, as Bro. Hobart had rode his, pretty well down and needed a fresh one. To which, he replied, "I'm sorry I stayed here, I've a mind to go home!" We had family prayer soon after and parted for the night, he leaving next morning early. During the winter, Bishop Chase of the Protestant Episcopal church visited Kock Island, and was in- vited to preach in Davenport. In the course of his sermon, which was only moderate in quality, he took occasion to specially warn the people not to give any countenance to those persons, who 116 RECOLLECTIONS. were riding up and down through country, the calling themselves preachers; as they were, most of them, speculators and horse-jockeys, and none of them worthy of the least attention as ministers of the Gospel. I should have been generous enough to have shared this morsel of superannu- ated spleen, had there been any one with whom to divide it; but as I was the only one on that side of the river, to whom it could possibly apply, of ne- cessity I appropriated it all, thinking, at the same time that, since I was doing a work, which neither he nor his subordinates could do, he might have been manly enough to let me alone, rather than attempt to hedge up my way. Among the many friends, made that year and whom I remember with much pleasure, were Rev. Elnathan C. Gavit and his royal hearted and most excellent wife. A watchnight meeting was held at Rock Island on New Year's Eve by Bros. Gavit, West and my- self. This was a precious time of power, the good results of which were enduring. In the spring immigrants came by hundreds, to settle in this part of the country, and as soon as the grass was sufficiently grown to keep our horses, Bro. D. G. Cartwright and I arranged to take a trip into the interior, to get acquainted with these new settlers and, if possible, to supply them with preaching. For this purpose, we met at Bloom- ington, now Muscatine, and rode to a place, then called Moscow, on the Cedar river. From thence we pushed on, ten miles, to Colonel Hardman's. RECOLLECTIONS. 117 We found the colonel to be a member of our church and received a warm welcome from him. The news of our arrival soon spread and quite a con- gregation gathered that night, to whom Bro. Cart- right preached. His, was the first sermon ever preached in the Cedar river country. We rode through the Sugar Creek and Rock Creek settlements, the next day, and found six or eight families, in thirty miles travel and stayed at night at the head of Red Oak Grove, near where Tipton now stands. Next day we started in a northeast direction, in- tending to reach Bro. Carter's at Hickory Grove, supposing it to be distant about thirty miles. There was neither road, trail, stake, nor anything else to direct us on that great prairie; nor had any one ever been through the route we were then taking; but we knew the direction we wanted to go and struck out. About eight o'clock in the morn- ing, we reached the top of a high swell or hill on the prairie, and could see, in the far off distance, in our course, a grove of timber, which we hoped was our point of destination. About one o'clock, we came to a deep, muddy creek, twenty-five feet wide; no ford and the banks very high. This we must cross. Riding along up stream, we found a place where we could get our horses in, and about a quarter of a mile above, we discovered, on the opposite bank, another break, where we thought we could get them out. We then pulled off our boots, stuffed our stockings inside, and threw them across; pushed our horses in, mounted, rode up to 118 KECOLLECTIONS. the break on the opposite side, and with great effort, got our horses up, found our boots and rode on. About five o'clock p. m., we reached the grove which Ave had seen in the morning, and there, from an elevation, could see, fully twenty miles ahead, Hickory Grove, for which we had started. To reach there that night was impossible, as it was getting dark and we could not keep our course, so we turned to the southeasterly side of the grove, to find a sheltered spot for ourselves, and grass for our horses. Just as we reached the lower extremity of the grove, we discovered a wagon track, one day old, which we. followed and soon found a settler. He proved to be a new comer of one day, with a wife and three children; his log cabin was half completed. Here were, kindly kept, and, the next day at noon, reached Bro. Carter's. Bro. Cartwright lived in the bounds of my brother's circuit and, as this circuit was twice as populous as both of our's and included about twenty-eight appointments, we decided, on this trip, with my brother's consent and that of the presiding elder, to arrange the work, for the rest of the conference year, as follows : My circuit was to include all the country from the Wapsipinecan to the lower Iowa; Bro. Cart- wright, to take all from the lower Iowa to Flint river, and Norris, from Flint river to the Missouri state line; each going west as far as the settle- ments extended. As soon as possible I arranged my work into a KECOLLECTIONS. 119 three weeks' circuit, with fifteen appointments, to which I shortly added another, and on this wise: When at Moscow, I heard that a settlement was forming on the Wap-si-no-o-nock, a tributary of the Cedar, on the west side, and ten miles south- west of Moscow. I then planned, so as to have a spare day, to visit this place on my next round. After preaching, at Bro. Hardman's, one Sabbath about the last of May, I rode down the next morn- ing to Moscow, expecting to cross the Cedar on a ferry boat, but found when I reached the village, that the ferry-man was off locating a claim and would not be back until night. "However," said my informant, a sensible looking middle aged man, "you can ford the river if you wish to go over." Thanking him I asked for directions so as to find the ford. "Well," said he pompously, "If I under- take to direct a man I want to direct him right!" "If you please, sir," said I, "for I have no desire to swim your river this morning." Walking to the top of the bank which was some sixty feet high, he said: "Now, you ride down this angling footpath, till you come to the water ; then ride in, quartering down toward that black snag, you see down the bend, yonder. Then, when you get two thirds over, turn square across the river and you will come out all right." With thanks, I rode on as indi- cated. When I went into the water I discovered that I was on a sand-bar, which caused me to hesi- tate, but as the water was only up to the girth I rode on. When about half way across, I per- ceived that I was just riding off the lower end of a 120 RECOLLECTIONS. steep sandbar, and, I had barely time to snatch my saddle bags from under me and throw them over my shoulder, when, in we plunged, all under water excepting the horse's head, and the upper part of my body. My horse proved a good swim- mer, and I concluded, that when we were in, we might as well swim over as to swim back. Giving the horse the rein and guiding him with my hand, we were soon on terra fir ma, safe and sound. Riding up to a log I dismounted, pulled of my boots, wrung out my stockings, dried my clothes a little by pressing the water out, and in a few mo- ments was on my way. I had proceeded about ten rods, when I heard the whiz of a rattlesnake near my horse's feet. My rule, since a boy, had been never to let a poisonous snake go, without killing him, so I dismounted, killed the reptile and rode on. In a few minutes I heard the rattle of another snake, dispatched him — and went on, thinking, if I accomplished nothing else, on this ride, I might be a sort of "St. Patrick" in freeing, the country from snakes. A ride of about ten miles brought me to the settlement. Calling at the first cabin, I found it occupied by a Mr. Foote and family, when the following colloquy occurred: Preacher, — "Good morning, sir!" Mr. Foote, — "How do you do, sir!" Preacher, — "You have a fine country here. About the best I have seen in the territory!" Mr. Foote, — "Yes! I think it very good indeed!" Preacher, — "Have you many settlers here?" Mr. Foote,— "Only six families." RECOLLECTIONS. 121 Preacher, — "Any school?" Mr. Foote, — "No! we have only been here about four weeks." Preacher, — "Any preaching, or religious meet- mgs ( Mr. Foote, — "No! but an old gentleman, a Bap- tist, I believe, was here and left an appointment to preach next Sunday." Preacher, — "Have you any religious people in your community?" Mr. Foote, — "Why yes! I'm trying to be religious myself! Won't you come in, and stay all night with us?" I then informed him that I was a Methodist preacher, and had come to get acquainted with the people, and gladly accepted his invitation. I found that Mrs. Foote was the daughter of Mr. Proctor of Lewiston, 111., an old friend of my father's and that she was also a very intelligent lady. Mi\ Foote was a Connecticut Yankee, whom his father had intended for the ministry of the Con- gregational church; but his health having failed before completing his college course, he had taken the advice of Horace Greely and, came west We were soon engaged in discussing the doc- trinal differences between the Congregational and Methodist churches. Mr. Foote had himself in- troduced this subject, as I felt somewhat reluctant to enter into a discussion of this character, with an ex- theological student; and just then, also being 122 RECOLLECTIONS. his guest. He soon, however, put me quite at ease by saying: "It is not for the sake of controversy that I desire to talk on this subject; I am seeking light. My brother went down to Tennessee four years ago. There he married a Methodist wife and joined that church. Some months since he wrote to me asking my reasons for continuing a Calvinist, and wishing me to give them to him. I had, of course, thought them very numerous, and in order to collect and support them with scriptu- ral authority, I took my Xew Testament and read it carefully through. To my astonishment, I did not find a single passage in the four Gospels, which necessarily taught the peculiarities (elec- tion, reprobation, etc.) of Calvinism; and but one or two, in the other parts of the New Testament, that I could not satisfactorily explain in a way, which did not favor that doctrine. So you see, I am seeking light." I gave him the Methodist view of Romans YIII- IX., and Ephesians I, which seemed in his estima- tion, to be the most difficult to harmonize with Ar- menian views; telling him, at the same time, frank- ly, that I was young in theology, and was only just reading up my ministerial course, but would on my next round, bring him a book, which would give our views on these, and many other, disputed texts and doctrines. During that conversation, Mr. Foote stated, in a rather perplexed way, that he had been in the west six years; had lived in seven dif- ferent localities on the frontier, in Illinois, Wis- RECOLLECTIONS. 123 consin, and Iowa, and that he had never been called on by a Presbyterian or Congregational minister; "While," said he, "it is a little remarkable, that I have not been in any of these localities four weeks, without being visited, at my own house, by a Methodist minister!" Leaving an appointment with this pleasant family, I started on for my next preaching place, which was at the mouth of Pine river, expecting to cross the Cedar at "Powsheek's" village, six miles below Moscow. After quite a hard day's travel, I came, about 5 o'clock p. M., to a log cabin and inquired as to my whereabouts, and learned that I was ten miles from Pine river, but that if I would stop, I could feed my horse and get a bite to eat. Here I met an elderly lady, who inquired, if I was not a Methodist preacher. She informed me that she was the widow of a local preacher of New York, had lived along the frontier in Indiana for the last ten years, and that she had not heard a sermon in eight years. According to invariable custom, after supper I read a Scripture lesson, prayed and sang. The old lady seemed very much comforted, expressed great thankfulness to God for having permitted me to call, and renewed her covenant to serve Him faithfully; saying as I left, "I believe I shall get to Heaven yet." I never saw her afterwards. The next week, in company with my brother I spent at my home, and then went back to my work. This summer was fully occupied in filling my appointments, visiting new settlements, and or- 121 RECOLLECTIONS. ganizing work. There were few roads and no bridges, and, in many instances, I visited places from directions where none had traveled before rne. I therefore claim to have the honor, not only of preaching the first sermon in many localities, but also of laying out more new roads than any other man in that country, before or since. On my next round, I brought Bro. Foote "Wat- son's Theological Institutes"* to his great satisfac- tion. I also filled my appointment here, preaching the first Methodist sermon ever preached west of Cedar river. In view of the growing settlements, it was ar- ranged that our next quarterly meeting should be held at Bro. Hardman's, where I had organized a class of twenty-five members, the extremes of which were thirty-five miles apart, so far as the localities in which they lived were concerned. This meeting was held about the last of August, 1837, my brother Xorris, D. G. Cartwright, and Henry Summers, our presiding elder, being pres- ent. The weather was fine, the attendance large, probably about three hundred; so that we were obliged to hold the services during the day time, in the grove. Saturday the preaching at 11 o'clock A. M., was by the elder; 2 o'clock p. m., by Bro. Cartwright, and "at candle lighting," by my brother. Just be- fore love-feast, on Sunday morning, we were all delighted by the arrival of Bro. Foote, who had come more than twenty miles, starting a little after midnight. That was a glorious love-feast; RECOLLECTIONS. 125 many were "shouting happy." Bro. Foote said it was the first meeting of the kind he had ever at- tended, and the happiest day of his life. Before he went home, he joined the Methodist church, bought Watson's Institutes and Wesley's sermons and returned, rejoicing in the Lord. He was subsequently licensed to preach; lived an active, useful, Christian life, and died, some years since, triumphing in Christ. In the evening, after my brother had preached, there was a great move in the congregation. Several came forward for prayer, and, of these, almost all were converted. At about ten o'clock at night, we opened the doors of the church and a number joined; but as there were several others who were deeply convicted, and especially a neigh- bor of Bro. Hardman — whose wife had been re- claimed and had that evening joined — I continued the exhortations, sang another hymn and extended the invitation. Two others joined, but my man still held back, crushed with conviction and weep- ing profusely. I felt that I could not leave him so, and knowing the difficulty in his case, was a bet on a horse-race which was to come off the next week, I determined to make my appeal as pointed as pos- sible. Saying, among other things, that to start now might cost something, but that utter bank- ruptcy here, if we made Heaven by it, would be eternal gain; that I was going to leave them in the morning and might never see them again, until we stood before the great white throne. This, he could not resist; the Holy Spirit applying the truth 126 EECOLLECTIONS. — and there being a great wave of sympathy pervad- ing the entire audience — he started; coming tome, reaching out his hand — with his face bent almost to his knees — he cried : "I'll go ! Cost what it may ! I'll go! I'll go!" We all bowed in thanksgiving and prayer, and dismissed about as happy a circle of Methodists as could be found anywhere. This man, who that night, had such a struggle to yield obedience to God, remained for years, and so long as I heard of him, a faithful Christian. Nor did he suffer the loss he anticipated. When the day of the race came, neither he nor his horse were at the accustomed place. But when the men, with whom he had made the bet, heard that he was not there, because he had joined the Metho- dists, they agreed to let him off without forfeit. This ended my first year's work as an itinerant. A year of toil, much anxiety, some peril, great joy, fair success, and a good deal of encouragement. From this meeting, in company with my brother and the preachers who had been with us, we went to Augusta, to assist Norris, who was to hold a camp and quarterly meeting near there. Here I met, for the first time, Rev. T. M. Kirkpatrick, who became my colleague the next year, and who has been my valued and dear friend ever since. It was at this meeting, that I made my first mission- ary speech, and succeeded in displeasing myself most thoroughly. At a quarterly meeting, held by my brother, three months before, an incident had occurred RECOLLECTIONS. 127 in the love-feast, which I have always enjoyed repeating: The country west of Mt. Pleasant, between the head of Skunk and the Des Moines, had been near- ly all taken that spring by new settlers. My brother had visited them and had preached, and had organized them into a large class. He ar- ranged to hold the quarterly meeting early in June, in this neighborhood. A large log-house, in pro- cess of erection, with roof, and floor and openings cut for the windows and doors, was utilized for the Sunday morning service and love-feast. The at- tendance was large. The first one to speak in the love-feast, was a brother who rose and said: "Brethren, I am glad to enjoy this occasion. Some months since, I left my Eastern home, and all my associates to come to the west. I have been much disappointed. My family have been sick, and I have been sad and lonesome; but I want to get to Heaven, and hope you'll all pray for me." Another rose and told about the same doleful tale, adding that one of his children had died, and he felt despondent and discouraged, and hoped the brethren would pray for him. This brother had scarcely taken his seat, when a third, his face beaming with joy, sprang to his feet, saying: "Glory to God! Brethren, I'm just about as hap- py this beautiful morning, as I can be ! Six months ago I was living in Ohio, on a nice little farm, with my wife and two children. God called me to sell out and come to this country, and do something for Him and the Methodist church. I was not called 128 RECOLLECTIONS. to preach, but as a layman to come and do what I could for the upbuilding of the cause of God. I advertised my place for sale, and in two weeks sold it for the money I asked. Bought my teams, arranged all my matters, and, by spring, was ready to start. By Saturday night everything was packed in the wagons, and we spent the Sunday with our friends and brethren in worshipping God together. We had a glorious time and promised each other to be faithful unto death, and meet in Heaven, if we should not meet again on earth. Monday morning we started, drove on until Saturday night, then found ourselves in a religious community, attended preaching and class meeting, and had a glorious day. Monday we went on, and drove until Saturday night; locked the wheels again, and had another grand, good Sabbath. Off on Monday, and before Saturday night we reached this neighborhood, and found just as good a claim as I could ask; and from the time of starting un- til now, there has not a hame-string, buckle or tongue, failed me. And, brethren, we had our family altar all the way, and I am just as happy as I can be in the body. Glory to God!" This was too bright a light not to show some others their delinquencies ; and this joyful brother had hardly concluded, when the first speaker rose up and, with tears and in penitence, said: "Brethren, I see it! I see it! I traveled on Sunday; I am sorry for it, and hope God will for- give me." Then number two stood up and said, "I traveled RECOLLECTIONS. 129 ou Sunday, too, and I think I have been afflicted for it. I hope God and the brethren will forgive me." These confessions had a quickening effect, and that meeting was not soon forgotten. TVe returned home for a few days, where we found all well ; then we took a conveyance and with our wives, my brother and I started for Jackson- ville, the seat of the conference. 130 RECOLLECTIONS. CHAPTEE XIII. OONFEEENCE met, September 27th, 1837. ^ Bishop Soule presiding. The attendance numbered one hundred and thirty-eight members. Their field embraced the States of Illinois, Wis- consin, Iowa and Minnesota with the upper penin- sula of Michigan. The sessions were held in the basement of the First Jacksonville M. E. church. The audience room being occupied at the same time by preaching services, and the speakers being the most prominent men of the conference. The gatherings at all these meetings were large and elicited much interest and enthusiasm. The delightful memories of that conference occasion, are only marred by my recollections of grief and shame for the folly and wickedness of Simon Peter, who up to this time had been regarded as an honored member of our body. His very im- proper and unbecoming conduct towards the wife of the man at whose house he was being enter- tained, produced so much indignation that a mob of many hundreds surrounded the church, await- ing the action of the conference in his case. He was expelled from the ministry and membership of the Methodist Episcopal church. BECOLLECTIONS. 131 In those days, the appointments were kept pro- foundly secret, and we juniors waited with the most intense interest to enjoy the excitement of their an- nouncement. Having obtained the plan of the whole work from some accommodating elder, we sat with sharpened pencil, to write the names as they were read; and when that of Chauncey Hobart was reached, it was for Knoxville circuit, with T. M. Kirkpatrick as colleague. This brought me into the same district, and with the same presiding elder as the year before. We reached home after a nine days' session, and were soon en route for our appointments. My brother Truman, took a four-horse team, and our two families, and left myself and wife at Monmouth, one of my preach- ing places, and my brother Norris and wife, at Rockingham, where he succeeded me. Knoxville circuit, the field of labor assigned to Bro. Kirkpatrick and myself, was, as we traveled it, two hundred and fifty miles in circumference, including Knox, Warren and part of Fulton coun- ties. Our first work was to find a house in which to live. This, too, was part of the preachers busi- ness, as the stewards had done nothing towards procuring a house; and, indeed, felt under no ob- ligation to do so. The only available shelter was an unfinished log cabin, sixteen feet square, half a mile east of Pierce's grove. Ii was half floored with puncheons and the chimney, half built. This was the best we could find; and we, Bro. Kirkpatrick, wife and three children, and myself and wife, moved into it. The neighbors turned out and assisted in 132 RECOLLECTIONS. finishing the floor and chimney; covered a log pen with hay for a stable, and we were settled for the year. This work was a four weeks' circuit, with twenty-four appointments, which we soon increased to twenty-eight. We usually left home on Saturday, Bro. K. going west, and I, east; each returning after being absent two Sundays. "We remained at home until Saturday again, when each started in the opposite direction, Bro. K. going east, and I, west. So we continued through the year. As a sample of our alternated circuit work take the following: On the Tuesday of our first round, I preached at Long's and Bro. K. at "Well's. The day was bright and warm and we each had a "good time," and the people at each of these appointments were well pleased with their new preacher. Two weeks later I was at Well's and Bro. K. at Long's. The day was dark and stormy and but few out, and the preachers had each a "dry time." And, what was a little singular, these fair and foul Tuesdays alternated just two weeks apart for the next six months. As a consequence, Bro. K. always had a good congregation at Well's and was very popular and successful, while I at that place was consid- ered but a "dry stick." At Long's I always had a good congregation and a successful time, while Bro. K. was considered dull and prosy. This was the occasion of much pleasantry between us, and a kindly strife as to who, at these two points, should take in the greatest number of members RECOLLECTIONS. 133 during the year. For six months Bro. K. was ahead of me, thirty-five to my twenty-six, but dur- ing the last half of the year I began to gain on him, and, after a two days' meeting held at Abing- don, attended by the Long's people, about the close of the year, we stood for those two points, respectively: Kirkpatrick, forty-three; Hobart, forty-seven. This was the only year in which I had a colleague. And no two men could have labored together more harmoniously than did we. It was to each of us, notwithstanding much toil and hardship, a year of great enjoyment and blessing. The watchnight-meeting, held at Elliston, was a memorable one. After a prayer meeting of an hour and a half, I requested Bro. Kirkpatrick to preach without any previous exercises, which he did. I had asked him to speak for about thirty minutes. But he had only been talking about fifteen minutes, when there came over him such a wave of power that he lost his strength, and fell to the floor; while the joyful shouts of the Christians and the cries of the penitent, filled the house. After this occurrence which did not, in the least, interrupt the exercises, the interest and power of the meeting increased, sensibly. Another sermon was preached, followed by a continuation of the prayer meeting; then an hour of testimony, when at 11:55 p. m., on our knees, in solemn, silent, prayerful consecration to God, we closed the year 1837, and entered upon 1838. At this meeting, 134 RECOLLECTIONS. several were converted, and the power of the Holy Spirit was manifestly present. About the middle of J anuary, on my way to my appointment, I had to cross Haw creek. Snow and cold weather had been followed by a thaw and heavy rains, and I found the creek to be two hun- dred feet wide, twenty-five feet deep and the water rushing with a swift current. How to get across was the question. I must do it, or miss my ap- pointment. After some thought and a prayer for guidance, I determined to swim across, or, at least, attempt it. Placing my saddle-bags on my shoulder, I rode in. My mare took the water well, and swam about half way over, when she either caught her foot in the girth, or in some other way became entangled, and sank. I remained in my seat until the water came up to my arms and floated me off. Seeing I must swim, I put my hand against my horse's head, pushed her away as far as possible, then struck out for the opposite shore. After I had almost gained the shore, I looked back and saw that my mare had risen and was swimming back. So I, too, turned and swam after her. On reaching dry land I found that my saddle and saddle-bags were left in the creek. Finding herself free, she had started back on a run ; and I, dripping wet, with overcoat and leggings on, and my whip still in my hand, started in pursuit of my saddle and saddle- bags. The latter I soon discovered lodged on a bush, and they were secured by wading out into water about four feet deep. My Bible, hymn boob, a RECOLLECTIONS. 135 volume of Dick's works, and one volume of Rollin's Ancient History, I found badly damaged, and spread them out in the sun to dry. My saddle I saw about forty rods below, caught on a limb, where the water was twenty feet deep. By the assistance of two long willow sprouts, twisted to- gether securely, I managed to disengage the saddle, which was twenty feet from shore, but only to see it sink again beyond recovery. Starting back on foot, I was gladdened by the sight of my horse, returning at the top of her speed, and mounted by a young man who had caught her, and had come to see whether I was drowned. Returning home with him I dried my clothes a little, ate some dinner, and by a circuit- ous route, found a ford and crossed the creek. I reached the place of preaching about five p. M., but too late, as the hour of meeting was eleven A. m. This I greatly regretted. It was almost the only time I ever missed my appointment. My saddle was afterwards found by a brother, whom I had asked to get it when the water subsided; and I ob- tained it in about four weeks, on my next round, it being badly damaged. The third quarterly meeting was held at the camp-meeting, at the head of Elliston, in June. This was considered an unfavorable time; but our meeting was a grand success, forty-five being con- verted. Such was the state of religious feeling on the circuit, that another camp-meeting was arranged for in the middle of July, to be held at Pierce's 136 RECOLLECTIONS. grove, one mile west of where we lived, now Ber- wick. As neither Bro. K. nor myself were yet ordained, and the elder could not be with us, we secured the services of Kev. James Haney. This good brother, the father of Revs. Bichard, William, Freeborn and Milton Haney, of Central Illinois conference, was a royal man and an excellent preacher. His wife, Aunt Mary, one of the noblest Christian women, was also with us, a leader and a mother in Israel. This meeting was produc- tive of many blessed results, and among them the conversion of Frank Snapp, which event was prefaced by some very solemn admonitions to him. About a week before camp-meeting, as he was plowing corn, a dark thunder-cloud came up, which drove him to seek the house. On reaching his door, he barely had time to snatch the bridle from his horse, when a flash of lightning struck the animal, killing him instantly. About five days after, in the house of his neighbor Carr, five chil- dren were playing together on the porch, when another thunder storm came up as suddenly. Three of the children were killed by the lightning, and the others paralyzed. These sad occurrences made Frank unusually thoughtful. He belonged to a brave, frank, ener- getic, wicked family of five or six brothers, who scorned to do what they thought a mean thing; but fighting and swearing were considered honorable, when occasion required it, according to their standard of morals. But to return to our story. Frank was at the EECOLLECTIONS. 137 camp-meeting. The first sermon preached there was on the occasion of the funeral of the three children, killed two days before. From the very beginning a solemn seriousness rested on all who gathered at that meeting. Among the mourners, indeed the very first to come forward to the altar, was Frank Snapp. The struggle to believe was with him a hard one. The devil did not willingly relinquish his hold on so good a subject, and Frank had much to learn. It was difficult for him even to accommodate his habits of thought, to re- ligious usages. But he was determined to conquer or die. His oft-repeated prayer, after he had exhausted his entire and not very lengthy vocabu- lary of petitions was, "Oh, Lord; give me just such religion as my wife's got! : ' Many were converted around him, but he still struggled and wrestled on. Sunday was the fourth day of his great distress. That day, some young men had arranged to hold a prayer-meeting in the grove. Frank started to join them, but quickly turned back, saying to himself, "God is just as near to me in the tent. I'll seek him again there." Kneeling down in that tent, where was his wife's mother, he exclaimed in great seriousness: "Oh, my dear mother, do pray for me. I feel as if I should die!" The good mother, Sister Morse, did pray for him, and with her were soon joined three other elderly ladies: my own mother, Sister Pierce and Sister Bay — all soldiers of "the old guard," whose faith had achieved many a victory. Poor Frank prayed as well as he could, with broken accents and with 10 138 RECOLLECTIONS. groans and tears. It was not long before deliver- ance came. Frank's chains fell off, and the power of God fell on the people. And shouts of great joy, such as are not often heard this side of Heaven, rilled the tent and spread far out over the camp- ground. But neither tent nor camp-ground could hold Snapp, until he had told of the mighty joy that rilled his soul. All round he went, telling saint and sinner what God had done for him. We had a Bro. Jones there, a joyful, earnest Christian, who was converted about a year before. This man had sought Christ in great sorrow for an entire year — a long dark night. And when he found the Savior, his day was as bright and clear as his night had been dark and gloomy. He be- came one of those Christians who knew he was converted; a living proof that Christ has power to save from sin. A short time after he was convert- ed, his brother-in-law, whose name was Mings, with wife and three children had come to reside with Bro. Jones, and together they worked a large farm. Mings had been raised a "two seed" Parkerite. He was an anti-missionary, anti-Sunday school, anti-temperance, and anti-nomian Baptist; called by outsiders "a forty gallon Baptist." His teach- ing was that, "when you found religion, you didn't want it. When you had it, you didn't know it. If you had it, you couldn't lose it. And if you lost it, you never had it." To all this Bro. Jones could and did every day oppose his own joyful re- ligious experience, insisting that there was not a word of truth in such a theory. In this condition RECOLLECTIONS. 139 of mind both families came to camp-meeting. And on Saturday night, Mings and his wife went for- ward for prayers. The mighty power of God was present to heal; and in a short time, fifteen were converted, and Sister Mings among them. Bro. Jones had come and kneeling by his brother-in-law, continued praying by his side for more than three hours. All the other seekers had been converted, or had retired. It was nearly midnight; but, left alone, these two brethren remained, and continued in prayer and supplication. I stood in the pulpit at some distance from them; considering, as I watched them, what was best to be done. Suddenly I saw Bro. Mings straighten himself out on his back, from a kneeling position, and quiver, and tremble a moment as if in a spasm. Then he instantly bounded to his feet and began to praise God and shout: "Glory! Glory! Bless the Lord! I'm converted! I'm converted!" His first rush was to the tent where were his wife and little ones. Snatching his wife in his arms, he exclaimed, "I'm converted! I'm converted! I know it!" and together they praised Him through whom they had been redeemed. There were quite a number to be baptized the next day. And I supposed that Bro. Mings and wife would choose to be baptized by immersion. But to my surprise, they both desired to be bap- tized by sprinkling, and to have their children also baptized. After the service was all over I sat down by him and said: — 140 RECOLLECTIONS. "Bro Mings, how is this? I expected you and your wife would be immersed" "Well," said he, "I will tell you. You know I was brought up a Baptist, and taught that immer- sion alone was baptism. I was also taught that no man could know when he was converted. And that a consciousness of acceptance with God was impossible. But as I have found that this teach- ing is exactly the reverse of truth, in the two last things, I have concluded that they were wrong in regard to baptism, and in about everything else." The ingathering to the church from this camp- meeting was large. On the 31st of July that year, we were glad- dened at our home by the birth of a son, whom I then thought, and still think was one of the most beautiful babes I have ever seen. We named him, Calvin, in memory of my honored father. While absent at Alton, in the September following attend- ing conference, this dearly loved baby boy died; lent to us only about seven weeks. Of his illness I had not even heard, and knew nothing of his death, until I reached home, and found my wife in tears, sadness, and loneliness. We could only weep together, and bow in submission to His will, who "doeth all things well." This year, spent on Knoxville circuit, may be chronicled as one of hard work, poor pay, and glorious success: four hundred being converted and added to the church. I will. also state that at our fourth quarterly meeting, which was a camp- meeting, I raised over forty dollars to RECOLLECTIONS. 141 help start the "Christian Apologist", edited by Dr. Nast, and at Kushville, soon after, took up a like sum, for the same purpose. The conference of 1838, my second conference, was held at Alton. Bishop Soule presiding, and at which I was when my little Calvin died. Our class, of nearly thirty, was examined for admis- sion, and was put through the "Flint Mill," which was then set to make common flour, and not super- fine, otherwise some of us would have been found "wanting." As it was, we all passed and were ad- mitted. As the Bishop was not well enough to speak on Sunday, it was arranged that Kev. Alfred Brunson should preach at 10:30 o'clock A. M., Peter Cart- wright at 3 o'clock p. M., and John Clarke at 7. In lucidating his text, "Go ye into all the world, &c.," Bro. Brunson was led to speak of the aggressive movements of the church, and how Peter, Paul, Polycarp, Athanasius, Ambrose, Au- gustine, Luther, Wesley, Asbury, McKendree, Boberts, Finley and Brunson had led the hosts of the Lord in her great missionary movements. This was well enough until it came to the last illustration, where two trips up the Mississippi and camping out a few nights, were incidentally compared to the heroism of Paul, the martyrdom of Kidley and the life work of Asbury and Wesley. Somehow the enthusiasm did not rise, especially as there was scarcely a man in the audience who had not himself endured much more than this, in the ordinary affairs of frontier life. Indeed there 112 RECOLLECTIONS. was not a fur trader in the west, who had not en- countered twenty times as much, in securing a few musk-rat and beaver skins. A treat was anticipated at 3 o'clock when Bro. Cartwright was to preach, for his renown was great. But from the very first he wallowed heavily. He made, however, a manly effort to get out. but in so doing, went in the deeper. Then he tried to re- lieve his embarrassment by an exhortation, saying among other things, as only he could say it: ''Oh. I wish I had some of you rascals in a corner, I'd give you your own. once, before the devil gets you!" But even this attempt to master the situa- tion did not succeed. The effort was a failure. As he left the pulpit, Bro. Brunson, who had sat behind him, said: — "Bro. Cartwright, is that a fair specimen of your ordinary preaching?" "Humph!" said Cartwright, "It was as good as yours, if it was a failure!" On that Sabbath, my brother and I, with many others, were ordained deacons; having been elected to that office and admitted to full membership in the conference. Quite a sensation had been produced among us, during the week, by the arrival of Jason Lee, direct from Oregon. He came unheralded, and was in- troduced to the conference by Elder Brunson. He was a modest man and gave us an earnest but brief outline of his work in Oregon; also the reason of his return,