r 
 
 LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
 AT URBANA-CHAMPAICN 
 
 B8991bl 
 
 1880 
 
 v.l
 
 [HE lIBRAKt 
 OF [HE
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. D. D
 
 WESTERN PIONEER: 
 
 OS, 
 
 INCIDENTS OF THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 OF 
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUJ(SOJ(, A. M, D. D, 
 
 EMBRACING A PERIOD OF OVER SEVENTY YEARS. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 "Now the things which I write unto you, behold, before God, I lie not" Ga- 
 
 LATIANS I, 20. 
 
 "Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for 
 my soul." Psalm lxvi, 16. 
 
 VOLUME L 
 
 CINCINNATI 
 WALDEN & STOWE. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 PHILLIPS & HUNT. 
 1880. .
 
 4 PREFACE. 
 
 in which they :ippcar, may not suit the present taste 
 of readers as well as glowing accounts of prosperity, 
 and uneijualed triumphs ; but I write for the truth of 
 history, and lo do good to others who may he similarly 
 situated ; who may be encouraged to bear up under their 
 trials, and trust in God, who, being no respecter of per- 
 sons, will be ns gracious and merciful to them as to me. 
 
 I never knew% or read, of any one who was called 
 to pass through such ordeals as I have; nor does his- 
 toiy present us with but one Job; yet we may liave 
 afflictions and trials which involve similar principles^ 
 and require a similar exercise of patience and faith as 
 that of the man of Uz ; and so it may possibly be with 
 some rea«lers of this narrative, who may derive some 
 comfort from a less prominent subject. 
 
 We are apt to think our trials peculiar to ourselves, 
 and be tempted to despondency, if not despair, on ac- 
 count of tliem. But when we see in others trials sim- 
 ilar, or even greater than our own, we feel a measure 
 of relief; and if the more afflicted has found grace to 
 sustain him, we are encouraged to trust in the same God. 
 So it may be with some who read this narrative. 
 
 If some of the incidents herein recorded conflict with 
 some modern notions of law, discipline, or science, it is 
 because the facts are against them ; and any theory that 
 can not staiul the test of facts is based in error, and 
 should be abandoned. 
 
 Some tilings which I have recorded, may, to some, 
 have an egotistic appearance ; but it should be borne in 
 mind that, like the sacred liistorians, I have recorded my 
 eiTors, as well as my successes. This I <leem proper, to 
 guard others against falling into the same errors.
 
 PREFACE. O 
 
 In estimating from the known number of appoint- 
 ments in each circuit, station, and district to which I 
 have been appointed, I find I have preached nearly, or 
 quite, ten thousand times — I can not say sermons, for 
 many of them were often repeated, and improved by the 
 repetition — and have been instrumental, under God, of 
 saving at least six tJwusand souls ; and though, mostly, 
 my work has been on new and poor ground, I have 
 aided, directly or indirectly, in building about forty 
 churches; and I can but hope, after over sixty years of 
 official connection Avith the Church, and nearly that 
 number of years in the itinerancy, if not as eminent 
 and useful as some, yet with passahle acceptance, and 
 some usefulness, that the candid reader will conclude 
 that the oppositions, rebuffs, and extreme trials I met 
 with in the ministry, arose from erroneous apprehen- 
 sions of mistaken, though well-meaning, brethren, who 
 "judged from appearances," and not Avith "righteous 
 judgments." But I have had "the answer of a good 
 conscience before God and man," and trust that, in the 
 final judgment, God will make all things right. 
 
 The lessons I have learned from sad experience 
 have been of advantage to me, and led to compassion 
 for others in like circumstances ; choosing to err on the 
 side of mercy, rather than strict justice, if I must err, 
 and having showed mercy to others, so I hope to obtain 
 mercy from the God I love. 
 
 To say that I was solicited by many laymen and 
 ministers to write this narrative, and was encouraged to 
 do so b}^ two bishops and a prominent editor, may be 
 only commonplace, for, with some at least, it might 
 have been mere compliment; but I confess that it had
 
 6 PREFACE. 
 
 its influence in inducing me to do so, added to a con- 
 viction that duty to God, the Church, and the world, 
 required it of me; and such as it is, I leave it in the 
 hands of God and the Church, hoping that it will do 
 good.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Reasons for writing — Style of it — In the first person, and why — 
 May not suit the taste of some — May encourage some similakly 
 situated — Trials peculiar — May afford relief to others — And trust in 
 God — If conflicting with the opinions of others, it is because the 
 facts are against them — Not egotistic— My own errors recorded — 
 Preached eight thousand times— Sermons often repeated, and im- 
 proved Have saved, under God, five thousand — Thirty Churches — 
 Near fifty years in the Itinerancy, with passable acceptance — Some 
 usefulness -Trials from mistaken views — Have had the answer of 
 a good conscience — Lessons learned have been of use, and led to 
 have compassion on others Page 3 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Time and place of birth — In a snow-storm — No influence on my 
 after life — Ancestors — Puritans — In 1630 two brothers settled in Con- 
 necticut — Original name Brownson — Descended from the Hartford 
 family— Grandfather Charles probably born 1720— Grandmother Abi- 
 gail Beach, then Cook, then Brownson— Cook killed in French "War — 
 Left two sons — My mother's name— Danbury burned in the Revolu- 
 tion — Glassitesor Sandemanians— My grandfather joined them, and 
 suffered on accoui)t of it — Was whipped as a Tory — Sold his prop- 
 erty — My father's heirship — Sing Sing — Became a boatman — Its ben- 
 fits — Incidents of the Revolution — State-Prison- Silver mine — The 
 Pine Grove — Guard ship — Cow-boys — A trick on them — The pirate's 
 deposits — Digging for it — Tellows Point and the guardship...PAGE 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 First knowledge of Methodists— First camp-meeting — The sec- 
 ond one at Croton— Governor Courtland-The Devil's Camp — The 
 Academy- Military disposition — Became an orphan — Cause of my 
 father's death — Drowned — Made his own tomb-stone — Returned to 
 Danbury— Morals— My baptism — Fell into sin— Calvinism— Itg ef- 
 fects -Politics — High state of feeling— Aaron Burr — Roger Sherman— 
 
 7
 
 8 CONTENTS. 
 
 Franklin- Project of life -Attendance on Methodist preaching — 
 Dancing— First thought of being a Methodist — Would not y)lay 
 cards — Infidels favored Methodism on {>olitical grounds— Left my 
 uncle, and for what— New Brunswick, New Jemey — Trenton — Car- 
 lisle, Pennpylvimift Awakened Paok 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Instructed how to seek religion--How and when converted — 
 Warfare begins-~A singular dream — Severe trials — Call to preach — 
 Kemarkable experience— Trials jwrtended by the dream — The vic- 
 tory — Preparing for the ministry — Joined the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church The fiarrament--Sanctification — Wesley's Christian perfec- 
 tion — An instance of falling under the power of God — Reading by 
 moonlight — A camp-meeting — More of the power — Started for 
 Home — Another camp-meeting — A remarkable vision Paob 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Journey home — A heavy gale— Confidence in God -Bridgeport — 
 Got work — Bought my time— Found Methodists— The first class 
 formed in New England — Mutton lane — Visit to Danbury — Obtained 
 Banotification — Its evidence and quality — Not exempt from tempta- 
 tions—The atlvantage taken of me, and final victory — First exhorta- 
 tion — Was licensed- -Jesse Lee — First class, three sisters — Prophecy 
 of Lee fulfilled Human prints in a rock — Commenced holding 
 meetings — Travels on foot — A conversion, followed by another, 
 and a marriage — Another camp-meeting — My sister awakened at 
 it — My mother's trouble about it — Sister's conversion — Reading 
 circuit — Canaan quarterly-meeting — The rowdy — The right* of an 
 exborter Paoi 68 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Jeremiah— Backsliders who disobeyed God Willingness to do 
 duty The Penfield family — The Long Island Methodist The case 
 of Hill The rebuff— Got married- War declared— Business Cur- 
 tailed— Moved to Ohio Caution of a good sister — .Joined the Chur«'h 
 in Ohio -A large circuit — The two brothers- One a hypochondriac 
 Hit ludicrous experience Paok 89 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 On the irontiiT Kxposed to savage war Enlisted in the army- 
 Conviction of error- March Lake Erie— British navy Suspicious 
 vessel Plan for fight--An adventure -A little fright Sandusky 
 Bay — A soMier's brenkfnst — A night's travel in fear Seneca— Saw 
 General Harrison — Nightly alarms— Some ludicrous — Promise of pro- 
 motion —The quartermaster sergeant Secret prayer - The enemy
 
 CONTENTS. y 
 
 strong — The retreat ordered — The insolent letter — The arrest — The 
 excuse — The battle and victory — The spy — The case of the Indians in 
 this fight — The fleet — Ben. Hall— Perry's victory — The march — Want 
 of water — Perry and Harrison meet — The prisoners — The case of 
 Hull — His sale of the array — The Tories of Connecticut — Henry's 
 conspiracy- J. Q. Adams — Attempt to divide the Union Page 106 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GoYernor Shelby's volunteers — Crossing the lake — The fleet — 
 Put-in Bay— The crew — A deserter shot— An affecting scene — Adam — 
 The Middle Sister Island — The leeks— Landing in Canada — Maiden 
 burned — The Thames — The bees— Burning their vessels — The rene- 
 gade from the States — The battle and victory — Tecumseh — His 
 death — Colonel Whitley — Eeturn to Detroit — The storm, and brandy — 
 Prepared for Winter — Sickness in camp, and myself — The alarm — 
 Strategy —The lie Page 129 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A sham fight — A ludicrous aff'air — Ofl'er of promotion, declined — 
 Discharged, and went home— The captain had been a British sea- 
 man — A gale on the lake — Ofifer of good wages to sail the lake — 
 Refused — Got home — Sought the house of God — Met with trouble 
 because I had been to the war — The deacon — License to exhort re- 
 newed — Regained evidence of sanctification— Licensed to preach — 
 My opponent converted, and became a friend — Trip to Connecticut — 
 Preached in Carlisle — Milford, Penn. — Brother Doolittle's case — An- 
 other anecdote — Visited the tomb of my father — Danbury — Great 
 changes — Bridgeport — Returned home — The case of the Quakers — 
 Offered again for the itinerancy, and was rejected— Thought again of 
 the law, but conviction of duty prevented — Thought of my trade, but 
 the same prevention — The people urged me to itinerate — Rejected 
 the third time — A successful sermon, that eventually procured me a 
 circuit Page 149 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Western Reserve — Some of its history — Presbyterians and 
 Congregationalists — Methodism weak — Assumed Union — Circuits 
 supplied from a distance — Young and single men — Prejudice against 
 Yankees— Deacon Crosby —Remarkable case of falling into the fire 
 without injury — Hypochondria — Cause of it — A cure for it — D. D. 
 Davisson— A circuit given me — Reached it — New Haven — The 
 reception — Revival — M. Kellogg — R. N. Powers — No one con- 
 verted, just as he anticipates — Perkins — John Beatie- W. Gurley — 
 Revival Page 171
 
 10 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Irish Rebellion, 1798 -Julius House — Cold Spring— Singular 
 mound — Discovery of plaster Paris — Prairies— Their cause— Descrip- 
 tion of them — Last quarterly-meeting on this circuit-^ Oflended 
 brother Davisson Camp-meeting at Akron Met cold reception — 
 Deerficld camp-meeting— Uecommended to Conference— Rejected by 
 the Conference— An unfortunate book trade — Down the river, and 
 home— Ruter and Stewart -Revival-Camp-meeting, and victory — 
 
 Anecdote— Conversion ofa family Pic« 191 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Recommended for deacon's orders— Visit to Warren, 0. — Preached 
 first Methodist sermon there — Conference, Cincinnati — Ordained 
 deacon — The embargo removed, and employed under the presiding 
 elder of Erie circuit— The rescued doctor Returned home— To the 
 circuit— Bishop Roberts— Meadville— Commenced preaching there — 
 Also Mercer Large increase— Seldom at home — Reading— Contro- 
 versy — Camp-meetings— Much good done — North-East — Hatton — His 
 hypochondria — A remarkable meeting — Two hundred conversions — 
 First petition for organixing Pituburg Conference— Camp-meeting 
 near sianesville — Success in preaching— Effect on Conference— Ad- 
 mitted on trial in the itinerancy Paoe 210 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Home from Conference — Zanesville — T. A. Morns — A small 
 fright — Exchanged fronj Cuyahoga to Mahoning circuit — Had revi- 
 vals — One hundred and fifty increase — Amos Smith Remarkable 
 death — Dr. Bostwick — His character, and anecdotes John Solomon — 
 The crowing hen, and the bellow of a bull awakening sinners— A 
 camp-meeting — Geneva — Gotnl time — Two hundred conversions — 
 Parker- Another camp-n»eeting— Vernon Two hundred rowdies — 
 Chicked and defeated Further trouble for me Paoe 230 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Success of Methodism— Grand River circuit— Hard circuit Good 
 •work— Throe hundred incr«'ase Sick— Expect<><l to die— Ashtabula— 
 The man in despair — Saved — A returned husband Camp-meeting 
 in Concord— Uut> hundred conversions- The oM cry refuted — The 
 crops favored for camp-meeting — Confarence at Marietta — Ordained 
 elder - Appointed to petmit- Obio River -Plowing it Tlie migra- 
 tion of squirrels- Moved niy family to Detroit by water— The gale— 
 My sailorship- lieached Detroit — Cold reception My wife rallied 
 me— Whv I was sent to IMroit-The Indians The circuit— Subscrip-
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 11 
 
 tions — Colleague not well received — Divided our work at his in- 
 Btance— The under-ground railroad — Family sick — Sick myself— Driv- 
 ing the devil out — Sunday markets — The infidel husband Page 254 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Conference at Urbana — Maumee swamp — Flies and mosquitoes — 
 Lost my money and had to beg — At Conference another storm — Ap- 
 pointed to Grand River— Crossed the lake to Detroit and returned— 
 A storm or gale on the lake— Painesville— Necessity of uniform 
 administration — Commenced my commentary on Discipline — Read 
 law — Camp-meeting at Mantua — Rowdies two hundred, defeated — 
 A new scheme— The Baptist minister — Pittsburg Conference organ- 
 ized, 1824— Ohio Conference at Zanesville— Met an agreeable recep- 
 tion — Appointed to Youngstown circuit — The dancing-school broken 
 up— Camp-meeting at "Wayne— Proselyting defeated — The Univer- 
 salist convinced Page 276 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Conference met in Pittsburg — Three diflferent Conferences and 
 usages— Baltimore usage adopted— The Conference year— Stewards — 
 Conference Minutes — Appointed to Mercer circuit — Salem rowdies 
 subdued— Rowdies at Greenville subdued — The Irish and the fairies — 
 Stokely— His odd account -The high waters— Camp-meeting near 
 Shippenville— A Yankee trick upon the devil— The shyness of the 
 Yankees — The explanation to the elder — The devil's funeral ser- 
 mon — Camp-meeting at Sharon — One hundred conversions — A sin- 
 gular case of conversion and opposition Page 299 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Conference at Washington— Appointed to Newcastle circuit — 
 Fording Shenango, dangers — Zellenople — Corrected by a woman — 
 Conference at Steubenville— Difficulties from Radicalism— Appointed 
 to Beaver station — Revival among children — A father converted — 
 Wrote against Radicalism— Conference in a camp-meeting — Salem— 
 Bishop Roberts— The experiment — The district — The opposition — Ap- 
 pointed to Washington, Pennsylvania — Radicalism — Cool reception — 
 Soon became better —Camp-meeting at Castleman's Run — The negro 
 hung — The revival — The love-feast— General Jackson at church — 
 Visited home — Dangerous fall with horse — Silas Hopewell and 
 Shinn— Conference at Wheeling Page 324 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Appointed to New Lisbon circuit — Followed George Brown— 
 The Radicals defeated— The Campbell ites confuted— The thunder- 
 storm sermon — The dyspepsia, its remedy — The pipe quit and
 
 12 CONTKNTS. 
 
 retumM from n«ca«»ily— Conforenrc at Uniontowu— Madison Col- 
 \eg^ — YniingHtown cirruit — Radicnlism af^ain — A church saved from 
 it — Revival killed the wm in oiu- \Aucf A g«Jod camp-meoting — Four 
 infideli converted— Roof* Town Paoe S49 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Conference at Pittsburg— The Radicals — Baflconi in hot water — 
 His explanation— Chosen delegate to General Conference — Cleveland 
 circuit- The infideU — Penfielda At Euclid- Iluilson, the Canipbell- 
 ites — Frozen— Cured by tea — A mammoth flood Risked my life- 
 Great falls at Franklin— The Indian leap— The Bradys— The Stowe 
 infidel convinced -To General Conference— The lady ward — The 
 mistake— Baltimore — Silas Hopewell's greeting — Parson Brownlow — 
 The horse railroad — Philadelphia — Brother Weed — The Conference — 
 Sensibility on slavery— The debate — Pewed churches — The doc- 
 torate—Temperance cause — Two new bishops elected — No slave- 
 holder to be one — The change -The rebellion, its end — The Canada 
 question— The Southern delegates Paob 373 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Bishop M'Kcndree — The closing scene — Sea food — Quick trip- 
 Home— Death of my uncle — A false alarm of cholera at Cleveland - 
 Camp-meeting near Cleveland — Rowdyism rampant - The old Baptist 
 at the sacrament — Conference at Wellsburg-Camp-meeting — Alex- 
 ander Campbell — Owen on Campbell's toes — Young Moore — Campbell 
 in a quandary — Challenged the Conference and flunked out- Alle- 
 ghany station — Dr. Ruter corrected in a date— The cholera Day of 
 fasting- Few deaths — Thanksgiving— The same in 183.3— Alleghany 
 College — Conference in Mcadville -Bishop Roberts — Mea<lville dis- 
 trict A troublesome man — Temperance — Great success — Trustee of 
 the College — Manual labor Rainy camp-meeting — A rowdy fined — 
 A second one — The powder-balls — Doubts of camp-meetings — 
 Churches and barns preferred Pagk 397
 
 WESTERN PIONEER, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON the 9th day of February, 1793, according to the 
 family record, the wheels of time rolled me into this 
 world, in the town of Danbury, Fairfield county. State 
 of Connecticut. My mother informed me in after years, 
 that this, to them at least, interesting event, occurred 
 in one of the old-fashioned New England snow-storms, 
 the drifts of which covered the stake-and-ridered fences. 
 But whether this storm had any influence in causing 
 the storms of my after life, I do not know, nor have I 
 any faith in such influences; but I do know that my 
 whole life has been one of toil, hardship, privation, and 
 up-hill labor. 
 
 Nor do I know or believe in the influence of 
 planets, signs of the zodiac, or the moon on the future 
 of one born on a certain hour, day, month, or year of 
 the world's revolution in its orbit. If it were so, I 
 might have been a great man, for one great man, at 
 least, Gren. Wm. H. Harrison, was born on the same day 
 of the month, just twenty years before me. My father 
 being a Freemason, and that order regarding King 
 Alfred a patron of it, gave me that name. 
 
 As to my ancestors of the Brunsonic tribe, 1 know 
 but little. Nor is it of any importance, since my 
 
 13
 
 14 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 genealogy has no conuection whatever with any pre- 
 dicted future event of tiie world's history, bearing upon 
 the welfare of the human race. Nor do I wish to 
 establish a descent from royal, noble, or aristocratical 
 families of the Old World. I am quito content to know 
 that I descended from tJiose who shared in the common 
 respectability of the Puritans >vho first settled in the 
 New England colonies. 
 
 I can trace my forefathers back to the year 1630, 
 when two brothers, who bore the family name of 
 Brownso!). emigrated from England and settled, one in 
 the Hartford, and the other in the New Haven colon}', 
 Connecticut. Some of their descendants retain the 
 original spelling of the name, while others spell tt 
 Brunson, or Brunson. My father continued the origi- 
 nal orthography; but at his death the adminjstrators, 
 in their advertisement, spelled it Brunson. following 
 that of some othei*s, who had descended from the New 
 Haven family ; and, concluding that names ought to be 
 spelled as they were pronounced, I adopted the m, 
 instead of ow, and thereafter \vrote it Brunson. 
 
 I must have descended from the Hartford famil}', 
 my father, Ira Brownson, having been born in Berlin, 
 Hartford count}', in 1771, and being the youngest of 
 iourteen children, and by a third wife of my grand- 
 father; the latter was probably born in the same town 
 about the year 1720. This would leave ninety years be 
 tween the settlement of the first of the family and the 
 birth of my grandfather, whose name was Charles; but 
 whether two or three generations intervened, I am 
 unable to state. 
 
 My grandmother Brunson was originally Abigail 
 Beach. She married a Cook, who was killed in the old 
 P^enih war. She had by him two sons. Samuel and 
 William Cook. The Kev. J. B. Wakelcy, of the New 
 York Conference, is a grandson of Samuel Cook.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 15 
 
 My mother's maiden name was Permelia Cozier, 
 daughter of Benjamin and Sarah Cozier, of Danbury, 
 where she was born in April, 1772. 
 
 The town of Danbury was one of the early settle- 
 ments of Connecticut. From the traditions of the old 
 men, in mj' boyhood, I learned that the Indians, who 
 were then numerous in the country, occupied the plain 
 and higher grounds east of the town, and would not 
 allow the whites to settle there. This drove them upon 
 lower grounds, called the Swamp, and required the 
 street to be raised in some places four feet high, to have 
 dry roads. The main street in my boyhood was one 
 and a half miles long, and not exactly straight, having 
 but two cross streets, with but few buildings on them. 
 
 This town obtained some degree of notoriety from 
 being burned by the British in the Revolutionary war, 
 and subsequently, and in my day, for the great number 
 of hatters who lived and wrought in it. 
 
 There was in Danbury a sect of professed Christians, 
 the followers of Robert Sandeman, a follower of John 
 Glass, of Scotland, and were called Glassites, or San- 
 dcmanians. They were of the most rigid Calvinistic 
 creed. They believed and taught that they were the 
 only elect of God, coolly consigning all others to the 
 tender mercies of the devil, as reprobates from all 
 eternity. 
 
 One thing peculiar to them was their mode of obey- 
 ing the Scriptures. They would select one passage as 
 their guide, and follow it literally till it was stale with 
 them, and then select another and use it in the same 
 way; and then another, and so on. 
 
 One feature of their economy was to all sit around 
 one table in the center of the room, while their children 
 and the spectators, or outsiders, sat on the side-seats of 
 the house, all facing toward the center-table. The first 
 member who came in took his or her seat; the next one
 
 IC A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 on coming in would kiss the first, and bo seated ; iho 
 third, fourth, and so on, to t!ie hundredth — for they had 
 about that number — on coming in, would kiss every 
 one at the table before being seated. This gave them 
 the cognomen of kissers. This practice they observed 
 in their social intercourse whenever and wherever they 
 met, whether casually, or by appointment, at one of 
 their houses for a social visit; and, being rather clan- 
 nisli, their sociability was principally confined to their 
 own membership, and it was thought that some of them 
 were more fond of these socialities tlian was prudent or 
 virtuous, on account of the kissing. One of their num- 
 ber, the father of twenty-two children, eighteen of them 
 twins in nine pairs, was in the habit of calling at every 
 place where any of the sisters had assembled for a 
 80<'ial interview, so as to kiss them all ; but the Church 
 deeming his motives impure, he was expelled. 
 
 Another feature of their economy was, at their Sab- 
 bath meetings, to have a common meal for dinner, at 
 the close of which each one would announce what part 
 he would bring for the ensuing Sabbath dinner. A Her 
 the parents had eaten, the children and strangere were 
 invited to the table. A poor widow was usually se- 
 lected to cook, the fragments being hers, which often 
 supj)lie<I her family for the ensuing week. 
 
 They had no regular pastor afler the death of San- 
 deman in 1772. but they had several elders who took 
 the lead in worship. Their mode was for an elder to 
 arise and give out a psalm in Rouse's version, sing and 
 pray, and then, each one having a Bible, any one, as ho 
 or she felt moved, would cite a passage and comment on 
 it. This usually le<l to remarks from others, ami s<mie- 
 tiines lengthy discussi<jns of not a harmonious char- 
 acter, and at length led to disruptions and divisions. 
 
 My maternal gram! father joined them soon after 
 Mr. San<leman came to the town, which was about the
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 17 
 
 year 1766, or one year after his landing in America, 
 my grandfather being eighteen years of age. Ten 
 years after, when the Revolutionary war had got fairly 
 under way, these people had for their text, Eomans xiii, 
 1, 2: "Let every one be subject unto the higher pow- 
 ers. . . . The powers that be are ordained of God. 
 . . . And they that resist shall receive to themselves 
 damnation," etc. And though my grandfather was a 
 Whig in sentiment and feeling, and wished for the free- 
 dom of his country, yet he dared not take up arms 
 against the king, supposing, if he did, he should resist 
 the ordinance of God, and receive damnation to his 
 soul. He believed that all things whatsoever that came 
 to pass were fore-ordained of God, and that consequently 
 he had ordained that King George shoald rule over this 
 country. But it seems that it did not occur to them 
 that resistance to the king had come to pass, as well as 
 the crowning, and if the one was fore-ordained so the 
 other must have been. 
 
 In this state of his religious belief he was drafted to 
 serve in the militia, but refused upon conscientious 
 principles, based upon the above-named text. He was, 
 therefore, treated as a Tory, and was taken to the camp 
 at Peekskill on the Hudson River, court martialed, and 
 sentenced to receive twenty-five lashes on the bare 
 back, on one day, and be offered his gun and accouter- 
 ments the next day, and if he took his place in the 
 ranks, well, if not, to receive twenty-five lashes, as 
 before, the day following, and so on, alternately, till 
 whipped to death. 
 
 He decided to die for conscience, sake, and took 
 the first twenty-five lashes, which he said were well 
 laid on, causing the blood to flow, and the day follow- 
 ing, when the arms were offered him, he refused to take 
 them. But Major Ezra Starr, a fellow-townsman, 
 knowing his good character at home for honesty and 
 
 2
 
 18 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 industry, and believing bis refusal to bear arms was not 
 from opposiilion to the cause of Americau freedom, but 
 a religious fanaticism, hired a substitute for him, who 
 took his place, and be was released and sent borne. I 
 have often heard my crrandfather say that he worked 
 for the Major to the amount of a year, in days work, 
 and felt thankful at that : and. as a further mark of 
 respect for the Major, he named a son for him, Ezra 
 Starr Cozier. This son was. in after life, Mayor of tbe 
 city of Utica, New York, and died there of the cholera 
 in 1832. But before that war closed the Glassites 
 dropped that text, and took up another one, which 
 allowed them to fight in the cause of freedom, and they 
 did so with a will. 
 
 At another time they took up tbe passage, ''Sell 
 that thou hast and give alms to the poor, and thou 
 shalt have treasure in heaven," etc. Under this rule 
 my grandfather sold all the property be had, about four 
 thousand dollars' worth, and gave it to the poor, and 
 began the world anew. They afterward changed to 
 another text, requiririg industry' and economy, and be 
 accumulated about two thousand dollars' worth more, 
 when they returned to the same text, and be sold out 
 all again, and gave it away. But, notwithstanding all 
 this devotion to this erroneous creed, he died an atheist, 
 into wbich he was run by tbe absurdities of tbe Calvin- 
 ian decrees. 
 
 My father, being left heir to a thousand dollars, 
 which, in those times, was considerable of a start in 
 the world for a young man, rather outlived his income. 
 He was not of bad habits, but fond of good living, and 
 the higher class of society. This ran through with his 
 property, and in 1800 he moved to Sing Sing, on the 
 Hudson River, N. Y., and opened a public-house, a 
 brickyard, and kept the ferry from the Upper, or Del- 
 ;iv MI. *. !)..< U to Perrj^'s Landing and Haverstraw.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 19 
 
 In the brick-yard, and on the ferry-boat, I partici- 
 pated in the labors, as far as my age and strength 
 would admit of, in the Summers, and in the Winters 
 attended school. In ferrying I became a boatman, and 
 the risks of life I passed in the business cause my 
 blood to chill often, when I think of them, to this day. 
 Yet what I learned of boating in that period of my life 
 was of great use to me in after years, when in the army, 
 and in my missionary toils on the Western lakes and 
 rivers. Indeed, if it had not been for the nautical skill 
 I attained before I was thirteen years of age, I should, 
 with a wife and five children, and a score of others, 
 most likely, have found a watery grave in Lake Erie, 
 notice of which will be hereafter taken. 
 
 While residing at Sing Sing I learned many inter- 
 esting incidents of the Eevolutionary war, that I have 
 not seen in print. This town was within what was called 
 the lines, between the British, while they occupied New 
 York city, and the Americans, in the country. At my 
 father's public-house, and in the town, the Whigs and 
 Tories of the Eevolution often met, and when rum was 
 in, and wit out, they often recited the scenes of "those 
 days that tried men's souls," in words that ended in 
 bloody noses and bruised faces. But the sober details 
 of those scenes, by those who participated in them, 
 made a deep and lasting impression on my youthful 
 mind, and are vividly before me at this writing. 
 
 On the spot where the State-Prison now stands I 
 have often played, fished, and, at low tide, ate oysters 
 from the rocks on which they grew. Near the Point, 
 just above the site of the prison, was a silver mine, 
 said to have been wrought previous to the Eevolution, 
 under the direction, and for the special benefit of the 
 British Crown. On my first visit to the place, in the 
 year 1800, I was shown what was said to be the remains 
 of the pump used to raise the water from the shaft. It
 
 20 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Stood just nhovo high -water mark, and near the rocks 
 which bind tlio coast of the river at that place. The 
 shatl was said to have been thirty or forty feet, per- 
 peiidic'uhir, and tl»en run on a level, under the bed of 
 the river, some distance. When the Revolution broko 
 out, the miners left., and, at the time I speak of, tho 
 shad was tilled up by the wash from the hill, and the 
 pump was nearly decayed, it being twenty -five years, 
 at least, since it was placed there. In 1817 it was 
 stated in tho papers that an attempt was made to re- 
 open the mine, but I believe it proved a failure. 
 
 From the brow of the river bank, back some thirty 
 or forty rods, was a beautifully inclined plain, thickly 
 covered witU small pitch-pine trees, the foliage of 
 which so intermingled with each other as to exclude 
 the rays of tho sun from the ground, and give tho 
 place a ver}' somber appearance. A single foot-path 
 passed through it from the Lower Dock to Sparta. But 
 as ignorance and superstition attached to this grove 
 the idea of ghosts and hobgoblins, it required more 
 than ordinary nerve in a boy, and most men, to pass 
 Uirough it alone in the da^-time, without fearful ap- 
 prehensions; and it was so horribl}' dark in the night 
 that but few attempted to pass it, and then only in 
 cases of extreme necessity, and with company, and 
 lights to guide them. 
 
 The bank of the river, at this point, was, probably, 
 twenty feet high above the beach. In the channel of 
 the river, opposite, lay a British guard-ship, in the Rev- 
 olutionary war; and to this point, and in the shades 
 of this grove, the "Cow Boys," that is, tho Tories, who 
 stole thrir neighbors' cattle, would drive their stolen 
 herds, and signal tho ship, the captain of which would 
 send a boat to take on the cattle and their drivers, and 
 convey tiienj to the ship. 
 
 This being discovered by the Wliiirs, a juirty ollhem
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 21 
 
 went to the spot, and dug a trench, so as to form a 
 breast- work, and kindled the signal-fire, whereupon two 
 large ships' yawls were manned and sent ashore. As 
 the boats struck the shore, the sailors, as is their cus- 
 tom, rose to their feet, when a deadly fire was opened 
 upon them, and most of them fell, dead or wounded. 
 Those who escaped shoved off the boats, and went back 
 to the ship. In the mean time, those on board, hear- 
 ing the firing, opened their big guns on the tricky 
 Yankees, but aimed so high, in order not to hit their 
 own men, that they entirely overshot their mark. The 
 Yankees then took the back track, and soon found and 
 dispersed the Tories, and the owners of the cattle re- 
 covered them. This was said to break up this contra- 
 band tra'de at that place. But I have heard some of 
 the elderly ladies of that time tell of going down to the 
 beach in the day-time, with chickens, eggs, butter, or 
 vegetables, and raising a white handkerchief on a pole, 
 and thus calling the boat, and procuring some tea by 
 the trade; they were in so much want of the article, 
 and none was otherwise to be obtained. 
 
 This grove was somewhat famous on another ac- 
 count. Its gloomy appearance attached to it the idea 
 of a suitable place for the pirate Kidd to deposit his 
 ill-gotten gains upon the high seas; and at the east 
 side of the grove was a ledge of rocks, running parallel 
 with the river, at the foot of which some one's imagi- 
 nation placed the money, and from some appearances, 
 fancied that he had found the spot. But, as it was said 
 that Kidd, when he buried his money, also killed and 
 buried a man with it, to watch it, and whose ghost was 
 to guard it, it was expected that a contest would occur 
 when an attempt was made to exhume it, and it was, 
 therefore, deemed prudent and necessary to have help; 
 and from fear of discovery, and the owner of the lauds 
 claiming the treasure, if found, the digging must bo
 
 22 A WESTERN PIONEER I 
 
 done in the night. Under these circumstanceB but few 
 had nerve enough to undertake the hazardous business. 
 In this case, those who wished to dig sought for com- 
 pany and help from one who had no faith in tlie adven- 
 ture; but being fond of fun, let on to do so, and at the 
 same time arranged to have others present, who should 
 act the part of the ghosts, and prepared masks, made 
 of blue sugar-loaf paper. One had a wheel-barrow, to 
 which was attached numerous small pieces of tin, so 
 arranged as to jingle loudly ; another had a horse-fiddle, 
 the noise of which resembled the braying of an ass, 
 nearer than any thing else; another had a tin horn, 
 with a goose-quill squeaker in it, the noise of which 
 equaled the fiddle; others had cow-bells, and other 
 frightfully noisy implements; all being armed with 
 fire-arms. In this plight they repaired to the spot, or 
 near it, and hid themselves in the woods, ready for 
 action. 
 
 The diggers came in due time, very still, of course, 
 and with every necessary precaution to prevent discov- 
 ery ; but they had but just begun to dig when fearful 
 noises were heard, which the diggers — except the 
 traitor — supposed to be from the ghost of Kidd's mur- 
 dered man. This, of course, settled the question with 
 them, as to the locality of the treasure thej' were in 
 pursuit of, and they plied the shovel and spade with a 
 will. But the noises increased, and the supposed ghost 
 approached, with torches lighted, fire-arms roaring in 
 the dense grove; and, on turning to see who and what 
 was coming, the diggers, to their consternation, instead 
 of seeing ghosts, clad in white, as they are generally 
 supposed to be, saw devils, as black as Tophet, with 
 great ears and horns sticking out, and they concluded 
 that the bad place had broken loose, and the demons 
 were alter them in earnest! This was too much for 
 flesh to bear or withstand, and they took to their heels,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 23 
 
 for dear life; and the wheel-barrow, the horn, the bells, 
 and one man with a tom-cat in a bag, whose tail he bit 
 till the cat raised a terrible caterwaul, all after' the 
 diggers, and followed them so close that it was said 
 some of them fainted, and came near to dying from 
 the fright. 
 
 There was one other spot in the neighborhood which 
 had a similar adventure. There was then, and probably 
 is yet, a large, round, granite rock, a mile or so above the 
 Upper or Delavan's Dock, and at the south of "Osser's 
 Fishing Beach." At high tide, this rock was nearly 
 covered with water. At low tide it was nearly bare, 
 and the sand-beach connected it with the shore, mak- 
 ing it a point projecting from the shore into the river. 
 Almost at the water's edge, at low tide, there were 
 two pairs of parallel marks, about three-fourths of an 
 inch wide, resembling the half of a three-quarter-inch 
 auger-hole. Each pair was parallel, and the two pairs 
 verged a little toward each other at their south-east 
 ends, so as to bring their lines together at about half a 
 mile's distance, at the foot of a hill, and at the mouth 
 of a small run of water. It was supj^osed that Kidd 
 had buried some of his money near to where these two 
 lines came to a point. And Mr. Osser, the owner of 
 the land, had dug in the hill for it, but found none. 
 
 In 1804 the yellow fever drove most of the people 
 out of the city of New York, who found residences in 
 the country wherever they could, and Sing Sing was 
 crowded to overflowing. Every kind of tenement, ca- 
 pable of holding human beings in warm weather, was 
 occupied to its utmost capacity — some living on their 
 money, and others brought their goods and opened 
 stores, and mechanics opened their shops, while others 
 found employ as day- laborers. Among the rest were a 
 company of silversmiths, who wrought at silver- 
 plate ; and among this great crowd were many who
 
 24 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 delighted in fun of some kind, and their wits wero 
 strained to ll»eir utmost tension to devise and execute 
 schemuH for sport. 
 
 About this time an old Juke supposed that ho had 
 found the spot, the very spot in the valley of the little 
 run above described, where Kidd had deposited his 
 money, and to which these singular marks on the 
 rock pointed. But, presuming that the coin was now 
 out of date and would not pass as money, he made a 
 confidant of one of the silversmiths, and proposed a 
 partnership in the enterprise, with the agreement that 
 the smith should take all the old coin to work up in his 
 shop, and give the old man the half of the value thereof 
 in current money, and the time was fixed u2)on for the 
 digging to be done — in the night, of course, or Mr. Os- 
 ser would claim the treasure, it being on his land. 
 
 In the mean time, the smith made known the plan 
 of operations to all his spree-loving friends, and due 
 preparations were made to have a time of it. Each one 
 was supplied with a black mask, and cap with long ears 
 and horns; and each one had in each hand torches 
 made of oakum saturated with spirits of turpentine. An 
 inveterate smoker, who could light a new cigar from 
 the stub of an old one, and thus keep up fire to any 
 length of time he pleased — lucifer matches were not 
 then known — climbed a tree, over the spot selected for 
 the digging, while the others hid themselves in the 
 woods. 
 
 As soon as the digging commenced, the man in the 
 tree-top cried out, in the most sepulchral voice ho 
 could assume: "Stop digging! stop digging! That's 
 my money! that's my money!" The old man thought 
 that surely he had hit upon the right spot, and that 
 Kifid's walking ghost was aroused, and he dug away 
 with a will. Hut soon the same words came <lown as 
 from tlir clouds, warnini; tho diggers to cease, with
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 25 
 
 laore assumed authority than before. But the old man 
 urged on the spade with still more force, the smith, 
 meanwhile, pretending to be encouraged with the pros- 
 pect before them. 
 
 At this juncture, the man in the tree-top ignited his 
 torch, which was placed upon a small board, wired up 
 some distance, and then connected to a string, and let 
 the blazing torch run down to the ground, like a ball 
 of fire from a thunder-cloud, when all the pretended 
 demons of the woods ran up and touched their torches 
 to the lighted one, and in a moment they were dancing 
 round the diggers, the woods being nearly as light as 
 day. By this time the smith had backed out, and hid 
 behind a tree to see the sport, and the old man was 
 left to defiend his own cause as best he could. But, see- 
 ing so many devils around him, he ceased digging, and 
 stood leaning on the spade-handle, when the demons 
 approached him so near as to flirt the burning fluid into 
 bis face. This, he thought, was a little too much like a 
 hotter place he had heard of, and, fearing the devils, as 
 he supposed them to be, would lay violent hands on 
 him, and drag him into it, he fled for a safer place. 
 One of the New Yorkers, who was a witness of the 
 scene, declared that the devil sprung his net, and, if 
 it had not caught in the top of a white-oak-tree, he 
 would have got every one of them. This ended the 
 digging for that kind of money in that region in my 
 time. 
 
 But, some forty years later, the papers stated that a 
 company was formed in Xew York with a view to re- 
 cover some of Kidd's mone^^, supposed to have been in 
 a ship sunk in a cove a little above Peekskill, and op- 
 posite to Dunder Barrack, but which, like all other 
 such foolish attempts, proved a total failure. 
 
 Why, or how, this wild delusion ever obtained the 
 currency it did is a mystery. I never could learn, from
 
 -O 
 
 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 tlie life of Kidd, or any oilier authentic history, that 
 the pirate was ever on the American coast. In his day 
 there was no inducement lor a I'rec-booter to hover on 
 tills coast. There was then but little trade, and that not 
 ill mone}' or rich goods, which such men are generally 
 in pursuit of. And further, there was a sufficient settle- 
 ment in New York, and the neighboring coast, to pre- 
 vent his seeking harbors of repose in that vicinity. 
 His life shows that the scenes of his depredations were 
 on the track of ships to and from England and the In- 
 dies, and that he made but few captures even tlicro 
 before he was taken and hung. 
 
 There is, nearly opposite Sing Sing, about midway ol" 
 the I'iver, a singular narrow strip of land, which runs 
 up and down the river, and, in very high tides, is an 
 island. It is about three miles long, though but a lew 
 rods wide, excejit where it connects with the main land 
 by a salt marsh. The southern point of it, called Tel- 
 lows' Point, forms the western side of Croton Cove. 
 Near this southern point, in the Revolution, lay one of 
 the British guard-ships. But the Whigs, not liking 
 such neighbors, conveyed an eighteen-poundcr cannon 
 to the Point, in the night, dug a trench. j)lanted the 
 gun, and :is daylight apjieared, and the tide being on 
 the turn, and no wind to till the sails, Jonathan let 
 loose his war-<l<>g upon the vessel, aiming so as to hit 
 her between wind and water. In this tlu'V were suc- 
 cessful, and opened a j'nssage for the water into her 
 hold, and came very near sinking her. The sliij) 
 opened her liatti-ries. and scatti-red grape and canister 
 shot over the assailants, and sent out two boats, one 
 each side of the Point, tilled with armed men, to cut 
 off the retnat of these dai'ing Yankees; but, seeing 
 their danger, tlu-y spiked their gun, and retreated in 
 safety. Hut thi> ship slipped her cable, and the tide 
 "beginning to fall, she drifted away, and they covered
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 27 
 
 the holes made in her side with tarpaulins, or canvas 
 saturated with tar and paint, to prevent her from sink- 
 ing till she could be repaired. In my boyhood I was 
 in that intrenchment, and saw canister and grape-shot 
 that were turned up b}' the plow, and supposed to be 
 of those used at this time. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHILE residing at Sing Sing I first saw and heard of 
 the Methodists. Barney Matthias was the first min- 
 ister of this order that I ever saw or heard. There was a 
 small class in the place, and more in the country near 
 at hand. My father was opposed to them, in common 
 with others of a worldly cast of mind ; and, like other 
 children, I imbibed his prejudices. There was, how- 
 ever, one man of this class, Samuel Wandal, for whom 
 my father had such an attachment that he gave the 
 name to his youngest son. 
 
 In 1804, I think it was, the Methodists held a camp- 
 ing in Stevenstown, afterward called Sommers, about 
 twenty miles from Sing Sing, which was said to be the 
 first meeting of the kind ever held in that region of 
 country. I recollect of large companies, of what I then 
 supposed to be deluded mortals, who came from Kew 
 York city and other parts, by water, to our landing, 
 and took passage in wagons to the camp-ground. 
 
 Of this meeting all manner of evil was said, and a 
 stranger would think, from the representations made, 
 that pandemonium had broken loose, and these Method- 
 ists were nothing but demons incarnate. But as some 
 of our neigh boi-s, who attended the meeting out of mere 
 curiosity, came home changed in their natures, habits,
 
 \ 
 
 28 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 and cliaracltis the nioie caii<liti and leflective were 
 staggered in llieir lornier un favorable opinions, doubt- 
 ing wh«."llier incariiaU' dmions t-ould or would do Buch 
 good. 
 
 In 1805 a camp-meeting was lieid on tbe lands of 
 Governor Courtland, near tlie Croton Kiver, and four or 
 five miles from Sing Sing. The announcement of tbe 
 meeting to be beld on the old Governor's land led to 
 man}', and, as its enemies tbougbt, very grave and pbil- 
 osophieal remark.s. It first struck the p()i)ulace with 
 wonder and surprise; and, as mankind are generally 
 philosophical in their way, and presume that every ef- 
 fect must have a cause, and every action a motive, the 
 ridson for this strange act in the Governor was sought 
 for with gieat solicitude. Some thought that the old 
 gentleman was in his dotage, and was led astray by tbe 
 s«j-callcti fanatics. Others thought it was to add tbe 
 influence of his name to the meeting, thereby to pre- 
 serve good order. I^ut the greater wonder of all was, 
 the great multitude of attendants. They came by 
 hundreds trom the city in sloo})s to our docks; but from 
 thence up to the Croton they bad to be conveyed by 
 smaller crafts, and my father made quite a raise by using 
 his feiry-boat for this purpose; but still, when we got 
 u))()n the ground we found that but a small portion of 
 them came in tliat way. Boats and vessels had landed 
 them in similar numbers at C'ourtlandville, while hun- 
 dreds of wagons and other caniages had come loaded 
 from the country. Such a multitude of Methodists! 
 Where did they all come from? The world must be 
 turning upside down, and all running after this strange 
 jieople! 
 
 The meeting was so arranged as not to include a 
 Sabbath, lest the rowilies should take advantage of the 
 day to make disturbance, and Widnesday was fixed 
 upon by the outsiders as the probable great day of tbe
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 29 
 
 feast, and for sight-seeing. Accordingly, on that day, 
 my father went and took me with him ; and I availed 
 myself of the opj^ortunitj' to see and hear all I could. 
 It was agreed by our party to meet at a certain angle 
 of the ground, at a given hour, prej^aratory to return- 
 ing home, as it would be impossible to find each other 
 in such a crowd. 
 
 On the ground there were thousands, but how many 
 thousands I could not pretend to say. Besides the 
 stand from which to preach to the great congregation, 
 there were several smaller ones, or mere blocks of wood, 
 upon which the preachers stood to exhort and gather 
 prayer-meetings around them, in the intervals of 
 preaching from the stand. The ground was vocal with 
 prayer, preaching, exhortation, or singing the whole 
 time I was on it. 
 
 I shall never forget the scenes in one prayer-ring or 
 circle, and my thoughts upon viewing it. There was a 
 ring of men holding hands, within which I judged 
 there were two hundred persons, some standing, some 
 kneeling, some sitting, some praying, some singing, and 
 a large number lying on the ground helpless, while 
 others were shouting the praise of God. Some were 
 apparentl}^ in the greatest possible mental distress, while 
 others were striving to comfort them, or were pra3Hng 
 for them. 
 
 While I stood near this human wall that surrounded 
 them, and was viewing the scenes within, the like of 
 which I had never seen before — though I have seen 
 hundreds of such since — I wondered how people could 
 be so simple as to yield to such influences; when I saw 
 a man pluck the sleeve of a woman to get her eye, and 
 as her eye met his, he turned his eya upon the scene 
 before them, and then their eyes met again, and they 
 smiled as if highly pleased. In my ignorance, I thought 
 the devil was in those people on the ground, and that
 
 30 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 this coii]>lc was laui^hing in their sleeves to think how 
 they had succeeded in the matter. Irj after years, how- 
 ever, I understood tlie thing better. Having obtained 
 religion myself, on viewing such scenes, I tliink of tlic 
 angels who rejoice over one sinner tliat rej)enteth, and 
 if angels in lieaven rejoice on such occasions, surely 
 snint« on earth may do so. 
 
 The Governor was present in his carriage, and liis 
 presence and moral influence, together with liis control 
 over the ground, seemed to deter the rowdies from gross 
 acts of disturbance there. But they congregated at a 
 rum-liole a mile or so west of the camp-ground, on 
 another man's land, and took it fore and aft, rough 
 and tumble among themselves. 
 
 In this, the devil's camp, I wandered with the mul- 
 titude. This assemblage was also large, but were very 
 difterentU' employed from the others. Some were drunk 
 as brutes, and others in all the stages of inebriation, 
 from dead drunk to the first stages of merry feelings. 
 Some were running horses, some were fighting just for 
 thc/M7i of the thing, there being no provocation. Some 
 were eating cakes and other good things, and drinking 
 small or spruce-beer, and passing their jokes in merry- 
 making, while others were trading horses, watches, or 
 other j)roperty. The contrast between the two places 
 was so great, and this last being so vile, and bearing 
 the unmistakable marks of the works of the devil, I 
 could but conclude, in spite of the prejudice of ni}' 
 mind, tliat the ])eople on the camp-ground were serv- 
 ing God. 
 
 As I have already stated, Sing Sing was in what was 
 called the lines between the British and American 
 armies in the Revolution, the scenes of which were 
 among the chief to])ics of conversation, and being 
 naturally of a military turn of mind, I took a deep in- 
 terest in such matters. ^ly ])lays with other boys were
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 31 
 
 of a military cast. I cast little cannons of lead, and 
 mounted them on regular miniature carriages, and 
 trained my playmates in the use of wooden guns, 
 swords, etc. My fatlier seeing this, and following the 
 rule laid down by Dr. Eush, in selecting a boy's occu- 
 pation, determined to fit me for and send me to We.-t 
 Point Military School ; and to begin, sent me to the 
 academy taught by Eev. Mr. Nelson. 
 
 This school was large, having many boarding stu- 
 dents from ]S'ew York cit}' ; and in our pastimes and 
 play hours we formed two militarj- companies. TTe 
 mast have tico companies to represent the spirit of the 
 times, and the place, and country' over which the Ameri- 
 cans and British had roamed in the deadly strife. I was 
 chosen captain of the American corps, and G-eorge 
 Meredith, of the city, was chosen captain of the British. 
 AVe armed ourselves with wooden guns, swords, and 
 pistols. In our drills we often had sham battles: but 
 the prominent characteristic of my nature, never to 
 C(jme out second best, if possible to avoid it, showed 
 itself in these strifes, though I was unconscious of such 
 a passion at the time ; and I would lead my boys pell- 
 mell upon the representative enemy, despite sticks, and 
 even hands and fists, and cause them to break ranks 
 and retreat. 
 
 In after life, when a soldier in actual service, and in 
 my ecclesiastical contests, first adopting the motto of 
 Davy Crockett, '• be sure you are right, then go ahead/' 
 I found this feeling and principle to be one of nature, 
 and '^what is bred in the bone is hard to get out of 
 the flesh;" and nothing but an uncontrollable Provi- 
 dence in suffering events to occur, has ever broken my 
 spirits, or caused me to quail in what I deemed to be 
 duty, and right in itself. 
 
 While residing at Sing Sing, I became an orphan by 
 the death of my father, when but thirteen years of age,
 
 32 A WKSTKKN PIONEER. 
 
 and the eldest of seven cliildren. The time and cir- 
 cuniBtanecs of it were n«»t only afHictive, but the pro- 
 euriui; eause of it out of the or«linary eourso of thin*^, 
 and admonitory. From eij]jhtcen to twenty-one years 
 of age lie i»arii<ii)ated in tl>o New Enghmd sports of 
 liftini^, wresdini^, runninii: foot-races, jumpinj^, et^;. lie 
 excelled in lifting and wrestlini,' at a hack-hug. It was 
 customary for young men to asRemhle in the evenings 
 and enter into these sports. Fighting at fisticuffs was 
 deemed disgraceful. A bully was ranked with a horse- 
 jockey, and he but little better than a horse-thief or 
 counterfeiter. Hence, if Yankees entered into such 
 enterprises, it was usualU^ in j)laces distant from 
 home. But the gymnastics were deemed honorable, 
 and young men were ambitious to excel in them, as 
 were the ancients in tiie Olj'mpic games. 
 
 This ambition inspired him. and he never met a 
 man that could erpwil him at a dead lift, or a ]):ick-hug. 
 I have heard him say that he would get up at mid- 
 night to lift, if called upon. And to retain his position 
 in the gymnasium he has wrought many times, till in 
 a high state of perspiration, and then would stand in 
 the night air, with the dew falling, and in his shirt 
 sleeves, or without a coat, and laugh and talk till the 
 sweat struck in, from which he took )-e])eated colds, 
 and finally, at twenty one years of age, became a ]iar- 
 tial cripple frcjin rheutnutism, which was the j)i'ociiring 
 cause of his being drowned. 
 
 As before stated, he kej>t the ferry, and 1 was his 
 chief assistant. Usually his comj)laint was worse in the 
 Winter than in warmer weather, and in January and 
 Februai-y, 180(i, he was mostly confined to the house 
 from this cause; but as tlie Spring opened, and the ice 
 ill I he river having disappeared, lie was better and able 
 to be out-of-doors; and. on the i\{\\ of March, 180(1, a 
 man wishing to cross the river, and I happening to be
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 33 
 
 absent at the time, he went alone. I saw him soon 
 after he started, and seeing that he was alone, and 
 knowing his afflicted state, I had the strongest feelings 
 of regret at being away from home that had ever come 
 over me; a kind of premonition of evil of some kind as 
 the consequence, and so expressed myself to the boys 
 who were with me; and I started for home at once, to 
 be ready to Tneet him on his return, and assist in moor- 
 ing the boat. 
 
 The house we lived in was partly on the dock, and 
 the nearest one to his place of landing, and as he 
 neared the dock, on his return, I stood within six or 
 eight rods of him. He had lowered the mainsail of 
 the boat, and got upon the forecastle to lower the fore- 
 sail, and as he stooped to loose the hah'ards his com- 
 plaint took him with a stitch in the back, causing a 
 rebound, which threw him overboard backward. The 
 boat was a pirogue, of two masts. 
 
 On seeing him fall, I ran across the dock to get a 
 boat to go to his assistance, and jumped into a sloop's 
 yawl, when the captain of the sloop hearing the alarm — 
 for others saw hiui fall — jumped in with me and sculled 
 round the dock, while I took a position in the bow of 
 the yawl to catch hold of him and keep him from sink- 
 ing till the captain could take hold also. 
 
 My father was thickly clothed with woolen, and 
 had on an overcoat thickly lined, and tied around the 
 waist with a small cord. He never could swim where 
 he could not touch bottom with his feet; but, as he 
 was now clad, with thick boots on, swimming was out 
 of the question, if he had been a swimmer; and those 
 who watched him said he sank by degrees, just like a 
 rag of cloth thrown into the water. 
 
 As we came round the dock the top of his naked 
 bead was just visible above the water, his cap having 
 fallen off, and the captain was so excited that he
 
 34 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 preBsed the boat 8o fast as to defeat our object. As we 
 api>r«>a(ln<l liim. my first thought was to take the boat's 
 bow roj>o ill my liund and juin]) over into the water, 
 and tlirow my letjH around him below liis armn, siiid 
 liold on till the captain could haul us both in. But 
 I had heard of a drowning man bein^ saved by beini^ 
 oaui^ht by the hair of his head. If 1 had a<l(j]>le<l the 
 fiist plan I should have probably perished with him; 
 but adopting the other, I reached down and took hold 
 of his hair, which being short, gave me but a slight 
 hold, and not sufficient to resist the veloeit}- of the 
 boat. If the boat had had less momentum, I might 
 have held on; but she struck him, as we afterward 
 found, on the bridge of his nose and broke my hold, 
 and he sank to rise no more in this life. 
 
 There were, by this time, perhaps, two hnndre<l 
 people on the dock. man\' of whom were expert swim- 
 mers, and who would have dived for him if the spot of 
 his sinking could iiave been designated ; but tlie quick 
 motion of the boat rendered this impossible. A seine 
 was immediately thrown round the spot in a sufficient 
 circle, it w^as thought, to inclose the body, and repeat- 
 edly hauled, till midnight, but the bod}- could not be ob- 
 tained. At this time all hope of resuscitating him, if 
 found, was abandoned, and the search was discontinued. 
 The next day the body was found some twenty rods 
 from where he sank, and on the other or south side of 
 the dock. When found he was on his elbows and 
 knees, as if crawling, and some said that persons thus 
 drowne<l did thus move at the bottom of the water. 
 How this is I know not. 
 
 On leaving the yawl as she came to the <inrk, atU^r 
 he had sunk. 1 went to the house, which w.ms erow<led 
 with old men, women, and children, the younger men 
 being in search of the body, and found my m«>ther sit- 
 ting with my twin brothei-s. then ten months old, in
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 35 
 
 her lap, the picture of despair. She shed no tears; she 
 could not. She said afterward, that when tears did 
 come, it was a relief to her feelings. 
 
 The funeral was large, my father being much re- 
 spected, and the circumstances of his death being excit- 
 ing. The Eev. Mr. Nelson, my teacher, preached from : 
 "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." 
 Under this discourse my mother resolved to seek the 
 salvation of her soul; and at this event I felt the first 
 sense of my own sinfulness, and the need of a Savior, 
 and resolved, with my mother, to seek him ; but did not 
 hold out as she did. My father, not being a ^^I'ofessor 
 of religion, like other worldly men indulged in sin. 
 This circumstance gave the more pungency to our loss, 
 and gave us the more alarm for our own safety. 
 
 In the last years of his life my father had followed 
 stone-cutting, making tomb and other stones of the red 
 sandstone, then quarried at Xyack, on the opposite 
 side of the river, and having a number of tombstones 
 on hand, not yet lettered when he died, my mother had 
 a set of them lettered for him, and placed at his grave. 
 But few men, if an}^, make their own tombstones. But 
 thus it occurred. 
 
 Previous to the death of my father I had thought 
 strongly of following the sea, rather than entering the 
 army, as he contemplated; but his death, and especially 
 the manner of it, gave me a distaste for the water ; and 
 his death cutting me off from the academy, I could not 
 obtain the necessary preparation to enter the Military 
 School, even if I could have found a friend to procure 
 for me the privilege — for, in such cases, '-kissing 
 goes by favor." And, furthermore, my mind being now 
 religiously impressed, I had no taste for that mode of 
 life, and abandoned the idea of it for that time. 
 
 This change in our family affairs led my mother to 
 return to Danbury with her family, to be with her
 
 86 A WKSTKRN 'PI0NE?:R. 
 
 parents and ivlativos. and tliiiik'ini^ tlie place more 
 conducive to tl»e iDoial and rt'li<;iou8 culture of hn* 
 cliiMrcn. In lliis last ])ai'ticnlar I am not certain tli.it 
 she was rii^ht, owing to tlie prevalence of Cnlvinisni ; 
 for I knew nothing of infidelity and Bkepticism in 
 reliirion till I found myself among deists, who weie 
 made so by tlie absurdities of that /.«7;j. Methodism ha«l, 
 at that time, a foothold in Sing »Sing tliat it had not in 
 Danhury ; but infidelity had a footliold in the latter 
 that I knew nothing of in the foi-mer, and I found li»e 
 morals of the two places much alike. There were, 
 however, some tilings in the land of steady habits pret- 
 erable to the other, as a place to raise a family at 
 that time. 
 
 M}' mother applied herself to religion as tast and as 
 faithfull}- as her Calvinistic notions would admit of not 
 ])elieving in or looking for a divine change until after 
 a long season of penitential sorrow, and attaching, 
 ajiparentl}', more importance to the virtue of repentance, 
 as if there was a merit in it, than to faith in Christ for a 
 direct and immediate change of heart, pardon of sin, 
 and justification. She, with her lamil}*, was a con- 
 ."-tant attendant at the Congregational lueethig-hoixf^Q — 
 the word church was, in those days, and in that country, 
 mono]H)lized b}^ the Episcopalians, or the Church of 
 England, as the}^ w^ere called — the l\ev. Mr. Ward then 
 being the pastor; and before Fall she met with a eliange. 
 and -obtained a hope," in the vocabulary of that 
 Church — for they apjilied the word church to the asso- 
 ciated communicants, though not to the house they 
 worshiped in — and became a nunilu'r thereof, ami 
 continni'd so to the time of her (h-ath. 
 
 At this juhi'ture a serious (jut-slion arost* ti>r nu- l«» 
 decifle. It was a usage, and probably a rule of dis- 
 ci])line among them, on receiving a number, to baptize 
 both him, or her, and their children, if it had not pre-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 37 
 
 viously been done; and as neither she nor her children 
 liad been thus dedicated to God, it must now be done. 
 But my age, thirteen, raised the question whether she 
 could properly present me as an infant. M}^ age rather 
 placed me among adults; but it was left to me to decide 
 whether I would go forward in the ordinance or not, 
 and I decided at once to do so, as I was under convic- 
 tion for sin, and determined to seek for pardon, and 
 would receive the ordinance as much on my own ac- 
 count as on hers; and, on her joining the Church, she 
 presented her seven children at the font, with herself, 
 and we were all dedicated to God at the same time 
 and place. It was a solemn and interesting scene ; one 
 never before, and probably never since, witnessed in 
 that churcli, if in any other. 
 
 On returning to Danburj- I became an apprentice 
 to my mother's brother, Ezra Starr Cozier, in the shoe- 
 making business, and was to serve five years, or until 
 I was eighteen years old. I had naturally a mechanical 
 genius, and could soon learn almost any trade, and, of 
 course, soon made proficiency in my new emploj'ment. 
 
 But the snares of vice soon encompassed me in its 
 folds. The shop in which we wrought belonged to my 
 grandfather, of whom I have already spoken, who, at 
 this time, was an open and avowed skeptic. My uncle 
 and his partner professed to be deists, or disciples of 
 Paine, Palmer, etc. Yolney's Ruins was a textbook, 
 and Paine's Age of Eeason was their book of books; 
 and the shop being some twenty rods from the main 
 street, and out of sight, was the Sunday resort of that 
 class to read that kind of works, and comment thereon, 
 and talk politics. 
 
 In the Spring of 1807, a year after my father's death, 
 custom removed the weeds of mourning and allowed 
 of dancing and such kind of- amusements, and being- 
 invited, I went with the multitude to do evil, and ni}'
 
 38 A wp:stern pioneer. 
 
 religious imrpoHcs were deterred to a more convenient 
 season. I intended, liowever, to be religious. I be- 
 lieved, as I was tau<^lit. and so far as I then knew, all 
 Christians believed in Calvinism, or election and repro- 
 bation from all eternity, and, like all other8 I ever met 
 with, who believed in that creed — unless in despair and 
 ready to commit suicide — that I was one of the elect, 
 and should be brought into the fold of Christ "in the 
 day of his irresistible power." Upon {\\\8hopel rested, 
 i^ivinf]^ myself no further concern than to wait God's 
 time, when the unchangeable decree would assuredly 
 bring me in. 
 
 In my new situation I was placed in a new relation 
 to the world, and new scenes were spread before me. 
 Politics ran high. Newspapers fell into my hands, and 
 my interest in the affairs of the world was greatly 
 excited. My father was a Democrat or Republican, the 
 terms then being synonymous, in opj)osition to Fed- 
 eralist; and, in 1801. when Mv. Jefferson took his .seat as 
 President of the United States, on the 4th of March, my 
 father, with Samuel and William Cook, his half brothers, 
 were three out of four men who only dared tuiFi 
 out and fire a national salute in Danbury, such was the 
 overwhelming influence of Federalism, in a town of five 
 or six hundred voters. On asking for the artillery the 
 captain said no, but held the key of the jCrun-house in 
 his hand behind him, and turned his back to them. 
 They took the hint and the key. Some merchants and 
 others who dnred not be seen in the affair, but secretly 
 favoring the movement, placed ])owder in their way, 
 and the four ])atriots fired the salute. 
 
 The state of feeling may be guessed at from a tew 
 incidents. It was sai<l that if Jefferson was ele(te<l, 
 the Hibles would be burned an<l the meeting houses 
 pulled down, and the Christian religion be banished 
 from the countrv ; and, of course, the men who coulil
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 39 
 
 rejoice at the inauguration of such a man and such a 
 state of things, could be but little, if any thing, less 
 than an enemy to both God and man. 
 
 In one instance a Federalist ^yas in a neighbor's 
 house, berating the Democrats, and repeating the 
 dreadful stories in circulation about Jeiferson, the 
 Bible, Churches, etc., till the people of the house won- 
 dered what kind of a savage beast of prey a Democrat 
 must be. The man happening to look out of the win- 
 flow, saw one going by, and exclaimed, ''There goes 
 one of tlie cursed Democrats now !" At this the whole 
 family rose at once, and rushed to the window to see; 
 when, lo and behold ! it was one of their most inof- 
 fensive neighbors. 
 
 Another Federalist, hearing the minister of the 
 parish, while praying for all the world, "and the rest 
 of mankind," in one of those almost interminably long 
 prayers of that day. ask God to " bless his servant, the 
 President of these United States," left the house in dis- 
 gust, because the minister had called Jefferson a serv- 
 ant of God. Under my surroundings, it would be very 
 natural for me to be a Eepublican of the Jeffersonian 
 school, and politics be an absorbing study. 
 
 At this period Aaron Burr was making some trea- 
 sonable efforts on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, aim- 
 ing, it was said, at the severance of Louisiana from the 
 Union, and Bonaparte was sweeping over Europe with 
 his triumphant hosts. To be posted in all these move- 
 ments at home and abroad, when I read of them in the 
 papers, I referred to the maps, and Morse's Gazetteer, 
 then the best geography extant, by which means I 
 learned more of geography than by its ordinary study 
 at school. This reading was of great use to me in a 
 literary point of view. Those Gazetteers, which then 
 belonged to my grandfather, are now (1872) in my 
 possession, being eighty years old.
 
 40 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Koi^cr Shorinan, the Klioe-inaker, istatehiuun, and the 
 pride of the State, had been a resident of Newtown, ten 
 miles dintant; and he and Franklin, tlie printer states- 
 man, were subjects of study and conversation. Tliese, 
 with other great men who iiad been mechanics, and 
 rose to distinction, self-taught, excited my ambition t<> 
 leave the world better tor m\- having been in it. Tliis 
 idea became, and has continued to be, a maxim, molto, 
 and object of my life; and, like Omar, with his head 
 leaning against a ])ine-tree, I formed the project and 
 ]dan of m}' future lite. It was to study law. and, as soon 
 as ])06sible, enter upon its ])ractice, and if a war oc- 
 curred, which then looked probable, with England, to 
 enter the army, and either rise to distinction or fail in 
 the attempt. 
 
 In the mean time the Methodists had Inund their 
 way into Danbury, and had preaching in the ui)-town 
 school-house, the first school-house I ever entered. 
 Once in two weeks the circuit ]»reachers would be there, 
 and on the intervening Sabbath a local preacher, of m}' 
 own name, but no relation near enough to claim, occu- 
 pied the desk. This being nearer at hand than the 
 Congregational meeting-house, and, withal, the services 
 being conducted with more life and aninuition than in 
 the other, I frequently attended, was edified, and often 
 deeply impressed with the necessit}' of religion. At 
 night meeting, especially, when others could not notice 
 me, my feelings were often so wrought upon that I 
 would get half down on my knees, in tinu* of the clos- 
 ing prayer, liut on these occasions, such wi re ihi' fas- 
 cinations of ycjung company on me, that on leaving the 
 house I would fall into that current, and forget m}- 
 serious thoughts. 
 
 From a child I had been taught to dance, and that 
 it was an innocent and healthful exercise, of which I was 
 passionately fond, and lo accomplish myself in the art,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 41 
 
 1 attended a dancing-school to learn " to serve the devil 
 by rule." The school was composed entirely of young 
 men ; but occasionally the young, and some married, 
 ladies would visit the school to see what proficiencj" the 
 boys made. On one such occasion we resolved to dis- 
 pense with the usual drill, and have the ladies on the 
 floor in regular reels, and it fell to me to dance with 
 a cousin, who was a member of the Congregational 
 Church. While on the floor it occurred to me that she 
 was a professor of religion, and, feeling conscience- 
 smitten on account of m}- own sin, I thought it was far 
 worse for her ; and such were my feelings of horror at 
 the event, if I could have got off the floor decently, I 
 should have left it at once: but, as it was, I determined 
 never to dance with a professor of religion again, and 
 never did, knowinglj*. 
 
 After these scenes of miscalled innocent amusement, 
 I never rested well at night. I was often afraid to 
 sleep, lest I should wake uj) in hell before morning. 
 Under such feelings, I often resolved to quit all such 
 practices, but the charm of young comj^any was so 
 great on me, that all my good purposes failed under its 
 influence. 
 
 In my sober and reflective moments, when at my 
 work, my convictions of sin were so great and strong, 
 that I earnestly wished myself out of this youthful 
 charm ; and I came to the conclusion that I never could 
 obtain religion while within its influences, and resolved 
 on breaking it off as soon as possible, by a change of 
 residence; but, being an apprentice. With two or three 
 years yet to serve, I knew not how to effect it. In 
 these sober hours it frequently occurred to me that I 
 should yet be a Methodist, notwithstanding my preju- 
 dices, and Calvinistic notions; but how, when, or 
 where, was all in the future, if it ever should occur. 
 
 Within the time of which I am now speaking, the
 
 4 J A WKSTERN PIONKKR. 
 
 yoiirii^ men with wliom I aspociatcd commenced play- 
 ing at cartlM ; but. havin<]j two unclcR ruined by tluit 
 practice, 1 resolved not to learn how, and never did. 
 One of my uncles otVered to teadi nie, but I refused, 
 and ]>iomptly told liim that it bad l)een his ruin, and 1 
 would not follow bis bad exaTn|)le. At tins unexpected 
 rebuke be turne»l pale, acknowledged the trutb of what 
 I said, and commended me for my purj)ose ; and now it 
 is a source of gratification to mc to reflect that I never 
 knew the use of any gambling device, and never gam- 
 bled in any way, shape, or form, except playing pins on 
 a hat, when quite small ; and I never made but one bet 
 in my life, and that was not intended, but by accident, 
 when but twelve years of age, and though I won, it did 
 me no good. 
 
 My young friends .said that they would never gam- 
 ble ; they only played for amusement. "But," said I, 
 '' no one ever became a gambler who did not first learn 
 to play for amusement;" and I would never expo.se 
 nlyself to the temptation, l^it tlu'V soon became such 
 ade]>ts at it that they must ti-y their skill, first for some- 
 thing to drink, and then foV small sums, and finally for 
 all they could get, till some of them were utterly ruined 
 in soul and body, while all of them suffered, more or 
 less, in both purse and morals. 
 
 Oneicircumstance that f:ivored the introduction of 
 Methodism into this, and many other towns in tlie 
 State, was their jiolitical views. In tlie Revelations we 
 are told that when the great dragon poured out a flood of 
 persecution against tlie woman and her man-child, that 
 the earth opened its mouth and swallowed or nhs'^rbeil 
 the flood, and saved the woman an<i her child. The 
 earth here means the men of the world who act from 
 worldly ])olify. and who f.ivor or protect the Chni'ch, 
 not from any }>articular love for it. or for religi<»n. but 
 from nu)tives of self-interest or policy.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 43 
 
 The great mass, if not the entire, of the Methodist 
 Church and her adherents were Eepublicans, and so 
 were the entire infidel portion of the comnumity, 
 thongii these two chisses were antipodes in all things 
 pertaining to iieligion ; 3'et. as they voted the same' 
 ticket, the infidel relaxed his opposition, and would oc- 
 casionally go and hear them ; and, on hearing tlie dog- 
 mas of Calvinism exposed as false doctrine, and not in 
 accordance with the Bible, the infidel opened his eyes 
 and ears with astonishment, and said, "If tlie Method- 
 ist views of the Bible are true, we have no objection 
 to it." They would protect and defend, and even con- 
 tribute to the support of the Methodist ministrj^, and 
 occasionalh' hear them, from motives of jjolic}', because 
 every convert to Methodism, in those times, became a 
 Republican, if he was not one before. 
 
 On the other hand, Calvinism and Federalism were 
 3'oked together, and the dominant isms of tlie State, 
 and many, supposing that Calvinism was a Bible doc- 
 trine, rejected both ; but, on learning tlic truth in the 
 matter, they not only dropped their opposition to the 
 Bible, but became converted to Grod, in many instances. 
 
 As I iiave before stated, I could see no chance for 
 saving m}" seul without a ciiange of residence — the en- 
 chantment of young company had such a control over 
 me. I contemplated a removal to Ohio, to an uncle 
 then residing in Cincinnati, and promised the Lord 
 that if I ever got away from the enchantment or incu- 
 bus thus hanging upon me, I would seek religion ; but, 
 being an apprentice, though not indentured but by 
 simple agreement of my mother, I felt a sense of honor 
 binding me to fulfill the contract, and how to effect a 
 removal was in the dark. 
 
 But, in the Fall of 1808, an incident occurred which 
 I deemed sufficient to justify my leaving my uncle, to 
 whom I had felt thus bound, and go to the other uncle
 
 44 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 in Ohio. At tlio September training, the eompany liad 
 grounded their arms for dinner, and lett a buy about 
 my own age to guard them with a spontoon ; and he, 
 feeling rather huge from his liigh ])romotion. without 
 any just cause or provocation, attempted to thrust his 
 Weapon through my foot as I stood near a line drawn 
 rounti tl»c guns. P^or this insult I flogged the fellow 
 after he was released from his high ocmimand ; and my 
 uncle, being an oflficer of the company, took sides with 
 the boy, and struck me. Upon this I determined to 
 leave him at the first opportunity. 
 
 Soon after this I was out for an evening stroll, with 
 several others, when accident rather than design }>rought 
 us ill fi'ont of a house of ill-fame, where we saw a man 
 of a respectable family, and seventy years of age, in 
 coinj)any with one of the inmates. Simultaneously, 
 and without consultation, our indignation rose, and wo 
 str)rmed the house with a view to drive him awaj'. In 
 throwing stones at a long distance at the door, the one 
 which I threw happened to hit the window, so as to 
 taUc out the sash and four lights of glass, which fell 
 into the room. The old man, fearing something woi-se, 
 soon ?noved off toward home. 
 
 As soon as the excitement was off, we -began to re- 
 flect on what we ha<l done, and how far we were ex- 
 ])osed to the operation of the law. The laws of Con- 
 necticut were rigid in such cases, and the ''night law," 
 so-called, requiring an accused or suspected ju'rson. if 
 out from home after nine o'clock at night, to prove 
 himself clear, we all took good care to be at home and 
 in bed before that hour, and doing it so that the family 
 should know it, and could witness to the fact if neces- 
 sary. 
 
 '{'he next <lay the old man and his dissolute com- 
 panion were busy in the pursuit of law. and we found 
 liial we were all itlentified, and were to bo taken for a
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 45 
 
 riot, and not under the night law, and I expected the 
 constable after me every moment. At this juncture a 
 fellow-apprentice said to me, "You have been talking 
 of running away, and now is the time to go." ''I 
 would." said I. •• if I had any money." "We'll help 
 you," was the reply. And those who were involved in 
 the affair made up a few shillings, and that night I 
 took French leave. It was agreed among us that if 
 the rest of the company were arrested they should lay 
 it all on me, and let them catch me if they could. My 
 design was to go to Ohio, study law, and rise, if possi- 
 ble, with the young State to whatever distinction merit 
 might entitle me to. 
 
 The third day brought me to Xew Brunswick, N. 
 J., where I wrought at my trade two weeks. Thence 
 I went to Trenton, where I stayed one week ; and then 
 on by Philadelphia to Carlisle, Penn., two hundred 
 and seventy miles from home, where I ventured to 
 make another stop. Here I happened to get into a 
 Methodist family, and, out of respect for them, went to 
 their meeting, where, November 27, 1808, I heard Eev. 
 Jacob Gruber preach. He told me of all my sins, and 
 he was so clear and definite in it that if it had been 
 possible for any one in the town to have known me, I 
 should have taken it for granted that some one had 
 told him all about me. But, having been but a week 
 in the place, and formed only a slight acquaintance out 
 of the shop, and having kept myself in good order 
 there, I knew that no one could have told him. But, 
 as it was, and he telling me of some sins which I did 
 not consider to be such at the time of committing 
 them. I concluded that the Divine Spirit must have 
 led him to discourse thus, and took it as a warning 
 from God. 
 
 The Spirit of God now said to me, or impressed mj 
 mind as plainly and distinctly as ever a voice from oth-
 
 46 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 ere did, " Now you are away from your youtliful com- 
 panionB, who po hindered you from seeking religion, 
 and you liave not yet formed new acquainUinees to 
 keep you hack, and you have rej)ealedly promised God 
 that wlien you got away from that enchantment you 
 would seek religion; and this is the last call you will 
 have. If you refuse to ohey this, you will never have 
 another." 
 
 This was a solemn time; and I pondered over the 
 matter for a week, querying whether I should then turn 
 to God, or risk it a little longer; and every time 1 thus 
 queried the same whisper or inij)!-cssion was made upon 
 u\y mind. 
 
 On the ensuing Sabbath morning I started to meet 
 some slight acquaintances, with whom I had agreed on 
 that day to roam over the country- at sight-seeing. On 
 my wa}- to the a]i)>ninted rendezvous, the same whisper 
 in my ear. but now 8ou!iding more like thunder, to my 
 min<l, said. ''This is the last call you will have ! this is the 
 last call you will have!" At this I stoppt-d on thi* side- 
 walk, hesitating whether to turn then or risk the matter 
 longer, when the warning was ri'|»eated, with allusions 
 to m}' former promises to the Ijord, and 1 wheeled on 
 my heels, and returned to my lotlgings, and thenee to 
 the house of God, determined to seek tlie salvation of 
 my soul. If I had determined otherwise, and gone an- 
 other step, I have no doubt the good Spirit would have 
 left me, never to return, and I should long since have 
 been dead and damned. But when 1 turned and fixed 
 my mind to seek (lod. it was with the indomitable hold- 
 on-a-tivcness of my nature, and tor lite. And from 
 that determination, by the hi-lp of Ciod, 1 have never 
 swerved, to the time of this writing, and trust I never 
 shall
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 47 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 J WAS now fairly awakened to a sense of my sinful 
 state, both by natuve and practice; and, having 
 started in the good way, my inquiry was. How shall or 
 can I obtain religion? I knew I must pray, but was 
 at a loss as to how, when, or where to do it. I believed 
 that God would have mercy and pardon me, or he 
 would not thus have called me, and was, therefore, 
 saved from despair, which, in those daj'S, was quite 
 common with awakened sinners. In accordance with 
 the impulse of my nature I bent all my energies to the 
 use of such means as I had knowledge of tendins; to 
 this object. 
 
 In the shop with me was a backslidden Methodist, 
 who yet retained some of the forms of religion, but 
 acknowledged that he had lost the power of it. Of him 
 I inquired what to do to get religion. He said if I 
 would pray three times a day, in secret, for three 
 months, if I did not obtain it, he would give me ten 
 dollars. Having fixed ni}' purpose to seek the Lord, I 
 did not try to hide my convictions; I had fully sur- 
 rendered to God, and was willing to be saved in his 
 waj", and in his time, and I replied : " I do not care for^ 
 your ten dollars; but, if I can get religion b}^ praying- 
 three tinies a day, I will do it." 
 
 I had not yet retired to a secret place for prayer 
 but, when I lay down at night and rose in the morning 
 I would pray mentally, or think over a prayer for 
 mercy and forgiveness; but on his suggestion I sought 
 a place for retirement, and found one in a loft among 
 some empty flour barrels. The first thing after rising 
 in the morning, at twilight in the evening, and before
 
 48 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 retirin<:( to rest at nigl»t, I repaired to ni}' closet and 
 l)rayed. 
 
 I was naturally of a livel\' and jocoso turn, and, in 
 the shop, I would indulge in liirht conversation, crack 
 jokes, tell yarns, debate questions, and endeavor to 
 play m}' j>art in the «^()od-humor of tl>e compan}'; but 
 this I found to be injurious to devotional feelings; lor, 
 after such indulgence, on retiring for j>rayer, 1 found 
 great deadness of Iceling, and my prayci*8 seemed to be 
 of no use; they did not rise higher than my head. 
 Discovering this, I resolved to break off from it, but, 
 before I was aware of it. I would catch the spirit of 
 the compan}' I might be in, and launch out in this 
 j)layful j)astimc; and when 1 did so, on retiring to* 
 pray, I felt barren in mind. To remedy this I would 
 sit down, or kneel, and meditate on my sins and sin- 
 fulness, and repent, which led to some tenderness of 
 feeling, and then my prayers seemed to reach the mer- 
 cy-seat, and be heard by the Fathoi- of Mercies. 
 
 One thing struck me with surprise, not having e.\- 
 pected it. Every sin I ever committed, and some that 
 I did not tliink were sins at the time, passed in review, 
 one after another, before my mind. Of and for these 
 I rei)ented, and resolved never to do so again, if God 
 would help me, and of this 1 had no doubt. This re- 
 view camo down to the last sin I committed before I 
 • tui-ned to God. My sins felt like mountains on my 
 mind, and it often seemed to me that the weight resting 
 upon me must sink me into the earth. 
 
 While in this state of mind I sought an interview 
 witli a chuss-leuder, who was converted in Ireland under 
 the preaching of John Wesley. He tohl me 1 must 
 pray in faith; 1 must expect the blessing, and look for 
 it, for God had promised it. He quoted several passages 
 of Scripturt' tending to this point; but these words of 
 our Lord, '' Whatsoever ye ask of the Father in my
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 49 
 
 name, believing, that shall ye receive," struck my mind 
 with the greatest force, and made the strongest im- 
 pression. He also quoted: "The broken in heart, and 
 tlie contrite in spirit, he will in no wise turn away." 
 
 With this instruction I went home meditating upon 
 faith: what is it? how obtain it? The dreo-s of Cal- 
 vinism still hung on to my mind in some things. I 
 thought that I had been such a great sinner I must 
 be a long time in repenting of my sins; as if tliere 
 was a kind of merit in so doing; or as if repentance 
 would in some way — I did not know how — atone, in 
 part at least, for my misdoings. I expected that when 
 I had sufficiently repented, God would forgive me for 
 the sake of Christ. The ideas of the atonement I had 
 imbibed from the teachings of Calvinism w^ere rather 
 vague and indefinite. Though they taught justification 
 by faith alone, yet they discarded the idea of short 
 repentance and rapid conversion. A inan, in their 
 view, must be long enough in repenting, or in penance, 
 to satisly, in part at least, the demands of justice. 
 From the want of better light on the subject, I could 
 not diso'iminate between the merits of Christ alone 
 and attaching something virtuous and meritorious to 
 penitence. 
 
 The difficulty was to bring my mind to rely wholly 
 and solely on the merits of Christ, and expect the 
 blessing of pardon and peace for his sake alone, irre- 
 spective of my sorrow for my past sins. I did not 
 know then, nor understand that repentance was onl}' 
 humbling the mind and preparing it to apj^reciate the 
 pardon when it did come. Unless ^\q feel our sickness 
 w^e can not appreciate the remedy, nor the physician 
 who provides and administers it. 
 
 But I came to the conclusion that faith was to rely 
 entirely upon God, upon his word, and to expect the 
 blessing, because he had promised it; and, accordingly,
 
 50 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 the next morning 1 asked tlod to blebS me that Jay. 
 In I Ills lliere was an error. I nhould have a.sked lor 
 the lik'ssini; t/tin, at tiiat nionu-nl ; but I limited the 
 re<iiiost to tliat <lay. Hut th'e bliHhing did not iiotuc 
 that thiy. Hut I liail determined that IT 1 went to hell 
 I wouhl ^o there ])iayin^; ko 1 made the same jirayer 
 the next morning, and tried as hard as 1 eould to look 
 for and expect it. This was February 3, 1809, 
 
 That nii^ht I went to prayer-meeting in the church, 
 the old stone building, out in one corner of the town of 
 Carlisle, Pennsylvania, long since torn down, and wjiile 
 standing and singing the hymn beginning with — 
 
 '• M V C'lod, ilie s[iring of all my joys, 
 Tlie life of my delights," 
 
 Buddeiily the burden of guilt, which for two months 
 and seven days had borne me down like a cart beneath 
 its sheaves, tell off my mind, and it seemed as if I 
 bounded two feet high, like a spring released from the 
 weight that held it down. 1 know I did not so bound; 
 but such was the sudden and instantaneous change in 
 my feelings that it seemed so. 
 
 At the same moment tiie same spirit that had whis- 
 pered in my ear, warning me of my danger if I 
 continued in sin, now said to me, "You are con- 
 verted.' And, notwithstanding I had prayed for the 
 blessing to be given me that day, yel, such was my 
 sense of my deep sinfulness, I thought it could not be 
 that such a sinner as I had been should receive ])ardon 
 80 soon. But the whisper was repeated, "You are 
 converted. " "Well, " said I, • Lord, if it is so, give me 
 the evidence of it," aiul instantly a stream of peace 
 and love. aj)j)arently as large as a pen holder, seemed 
 to come from luavin down into my j>oor heart, and to 
 fill it up as such a stream of water would a vessel. 
 It rose higher and higher, till n>y soul was full of
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 51 
 
 peace and joy. As I went home from the meeting I 
 felt as light as a feather, and seemed to move through 
 the air; nor coukl I realize then, nor siuce, that gravi- 
 tation kept me to the ground as firmly as ever. When 
 I reached home I could not sit still, but kept moving 
 about. M}' shop-mates noticed the change, and seemed 
 to understand it, especially the backslider. This hap- 
 pened six days before I was sixteen years of age, and 
 the witness of the Spirit I then received I have never 
 lost, but retain it to this day. 
 
 This change occurred differently from what I had 
 anticipated; but every thing about it bore the impress 
 of the divine influence so clearly, that to me, at least, 
 it was a genuine and unmistakable revelation from 
 God; his Spirit bearing witness with mine that I was a 
 child of his. And, in all the conversions that I have 
 since witnessed, amounting to thousands, I have noticed 
 this same peculiarity. God does his own work, in his 
 own way, and in such a manner that the recipient can 
 clearly see tiie finger of God in it, and as clearly that 
 it was not himself that did it, but God. I have never 
 seen a person 3'et who was converted just as he antici- 
 pated ; nor have I ever seen or known two persons to 
 be converted exactl}' alike in every particular. The 
 work of regeneration, like generation, has such an infi- 
 nite variety in it, that the infinity of its Author is 
 visible; and 3'et there is such a general resemblance, 
 as in the human race, as to show clearly the species. 
 Many who have experienced the pardon of sin have 
 doubted it, because it did not occur, or was not accom- 
 panied, with the same incidents or circumstances that 
 others experienced whom they had seen, or of whom 
 they had heard. But such variances are no evidence 
 that the work is not of God. If we have the essentials, 
 a removal of guilt and peace of mind, accompanied by 
 the witness of the Spirit, it is sufficient; we need not,
 
 62 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 we slioiihl not, nil I<K>k for every minute particular to 
 ]»o alike, any more tlian for every human being to look 
 as if cast in the same mold, in order to their being of 
 the same species. 
 
 J had but an imperfect idea of the warfare of tlie 
 Christian's life, or of the trials of his faith ; hut I soon 
 hci^an to take lessons in it from experience. S<mie two 
 weeks passed in unalloye(l j»ea(e and comfort of soul, 
 when tem])tations to unbelief were thrust upon my 
 mind, relief from which I foun<l in prayer and rcflect- 
 inir u]>on what I knew that God had done for me, of 
 which I could no more doubt than of my existence. 
 
 In about a month I had a sini^ular dream, warning 
 mo of approaching danger; and, however people may 
 scoff at the idea, m}- experience has confirmed me in 
 the l)elief that God, in mercy to us, does often warn 
 of dangers, or of goodness that is approaching. The 
 ]»hilosophy of Solomon, that di'eams come from the 
 multitude of thoughts which occujn' the mind, is ad- 
 mitted as a common occurrence; but this does not 
 exclude (xod from the control of our thoughts when 
 asleep, when he sees fit to do so. Even the devil may 
 do this at times. We have ample ]>roof of this in 
 dreams of which, or of any thing like them, we liad no 
 thoughts beforehand. 
 
 In my dream I was tiaveling over ground, the like 
 of which I never saw before or since. In crossing a 
 )»lain, oi- fiuadow, I saw numerous mats of grass, under 
 which rattlesnakes were coiled in great numbers, and 
 1 had to use great caution to avoid being bitten by 
 them as they thrust out their heads at me. At length 
 I came to the foot of a high and steep hill, up which 
 my path K-d. At this moment the scene was changed 
 from waiin wcjither and hare gi-ound to Winter, with 
 snow about two feet deep, .hist before me was a 
 brother of the Church with whom 1 was acquainted.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 53 
 
 who made a path in the snow in whicli I was to follow 
 him; but suddenly, as I had ascended about two hun- 
 dred feet, the hill became so steep as to hang over 
 above me. My friend appeared to have got over this 
 overhanging place, and 'was going out of my sight, 
 leaving his trail in the snow plainl}' to be seen ; but it 
 seemed to be impossible for me to follow him. 
 
 At this juncture a voice from the plain below me 
 called, and informed me of a road that went round the 
 hill, and ascended by an easier grade, and advised me 
 to descend to the plain and take the easier path. But 
 the difficult}^ now was to descend without falling; but 
 concluding to try it, and to guard against slipping down 
 the now perpendicular hill too fast, I took hold of the 
 toj) of a white-oak-tree, apparenti}- a foot and a half 
 through at the butt, and a hundred feet long, and 
 shoved it down before me in the snow, the spreading 
 roots of which grated hard upon the ground and im- 
 peded the descent. But at the foot of the hill the roots 
 of the tree struck a glade of ice and flew out, and I fell 
 on the ice and frozen ground with such violence as to 
 kill me. I seemed to stand by and look upon my dead 
 body for a while, when my eldest sister, afterward the 
 wife of Rev. B. Weed, and m3'self took up the corpse 
 and laid it in a coffin, and then placed the coffin on a 
 wagon, when it seemed to be my fiither. 
 
 I told the dream to the Irish class-leader, who said, 
 with great concern, " You are going to have some 
 severe trials, and are in great danger of falling from 
 your present state in grace; you must watch and 
 pray." 
 
 Some time previous to my conversion, 1 had an 
 argument with my backslidden shop-mate on the pos- 
 sibility of falling from grace, I arguing as a Calvinist 
 and he ns a Methodist. Among other arguments he 
 used was a story of a young man who had embraced
 
 54 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 religion, of wljoin it wii.s propliesied by his old asso- 
 ciates, that lie would n't ntaiid it long, but would 8<X)n 
 he back with iheni in sin, as bad as ever. This so 
 atl'ected him, and fearing that it might be so, he went 
 before God, and prayed that if it would bo so, if ho 
 lived, tliat he might then die. when he felt that it 
 would he well with him, and he immediately died. 
 
 I know nothing of the truth or lalsity of the story; 
 but at this time, and in eoiinection with m>- dream, it 
 made a deep impression upon my mi Fid, a?ul I feared 
 the consequences; and what gave it the more weight 
 with me at that time, was the fact that some of the 
 dregs of Calvinism were yet hanging about me. I 
 could not then discriminate between foreknowledge and 
 fore-ordination ; or, at least, if God foresaw a thing, it 
 must be because it would be so. I did not, then, as now, 
 understand that God not only foi'csaw what would be, 
 but what might be; and that in human events, condi- 
 tions are appended, the observance or non-observance 
 of which would entirely change the thing. It would be 
 so under one state of circumstances, but not so un<ler a 
 different state of the cast-. 1 might, aii<l jMohnliJy 
 should, fall and die, spiritually, if 1 did not watch and 
 pray; but should not thus lall if I did watch and i»ray. 
 
 But not then so understanding the matter, I thought 
 if God foresaw my fall, so as to warn me of it in a 
 dream, it was because it would be so, and I determined 
 to pray, as did the young man, and told the leader that 
 I would rather die tlien than backslide. I did not de- 
 clare to him my design, but thought if I should bo 
 found <h'ad in my closet, he mig<it infer the cause of it. 
 
 In thif* stat«' of nniul, and un«ler these feidings, I 
 wt-nt ii()riH-. and into my closet, and kneeled down by 
 an empty tlour-hanel, laying my arms across the toj>, 
 which was hcadUss, and then and there prayed ear- 
 nestly, if ever I did, ami with perfect submission to the
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 55 
 
 Divine will, that if he foresaw that I should fall from 
 grace, if I lived, that he would then and there take me 
 to himself, when I felt that it would be well with me; 
 and I prayed for an answer, in patriarchal style, and 
 2>aused to receive it. I felt something rising in me 
 like a choice to live, provided I should not backslide, 
 but a preference to die then rather than to fall. While 
 waiting for an answer, a whisper, as loud to me as ordi- 
 nary whispering of persons, one to another, came into 
 my face, as from the inside of the barrel, "I would 
 rather stay here;" and immediately followed, in the 
 same manner, the words, "Stay here, and preach the 
 Gospel!" In both cases I felt the air move in m}- face, 
 as when persons have spoken to me in close proximity. 
 I remained in the position some time, wondering if 
 such a feeble being had to preach, and praj'ed, if it was 
 so, for grace to help me, and qualify me for the work. 
 I had not then, and never have since had, the least dis- 
 position to be disobedient to this heavenly vision ; but 
 felt then, as I have ever since, that my whole depend- 
 ence for this, as well as any other good work, was in 
 God. ]N"ever till now had the thought of preaching en- 
 tered my mind. 
 
 I rose from my knees very happy, and went to bed, 
 pondering in my mind what all this could mean. As 
 1 awoke in the morning I found myself lying, flat and 
 square, on my back, with my head stretched back over 
 the pillow, and every particle of me, inside the skin, 
 seemed to be on fire, and I seemed to be so full of it as 
 to be swollen to the extent of my outer muscle. This 
 apparent, or real fire, gave me no pain, but made me 
 as happy as I could well be in this life, and the first 
 thought I had was, "I, indeed, baptize you with water, 
 but there cometh one after me, the latchet of whose 
 shoes I am not worthy to stoop and unloose. He shall 
 baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire^ And
 
 66 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 it struck fno tliat tlic fire tliat was in mo wa« tliat 
 whicli was alluded to by John the Baptist. As I 
 moved this feclini^ £;ra<lually subsided, till I felt natural. 
 
 This was, without doubt, out of the ordinary course 
 of experience in such cases; and in riper years I would 
 hardly <lare to offer such a prayer; but then, in the 
 child -I ike simplicity, and honest sincerity of my souJ, I 
 did so, and the result was as above related. This hap- 
 pened on the night of the Gth, and morning of the 7th 
 day of March, 1809, in Carlisle, Penn., just one month 
 and three days alter my conversion to God. In after 
 life, when the storms and temju'sts, hereinafter detailed, 
 bore down upon me, about ))reaciiinir, I liave often 
 thoui^ht that if only an ordinary call to the ministry 
 had fallen to me, I shouhl have yielded to despondency, 
 and given it up. and it has oflcn occurred to me that 
 God gave me this extraordinaiy call to refer to, in my 
 extreme trials, as a sheet anchor, to prevent my being 
 driven away by the storms. 
 
 The trials of which I had been warned soon came 
 upon mo. First, as if among poisonous reptiles, I was 
 assailed by temptations. My mind was borne down hy 
 a heavy load, an indescribable burden, not of guilt. 
 such as I had felt before being pardoned, but a weight, 
 pressing me down, and away from (lod. by discourage- 
 ments. In my mind my condition was pictured as if 
 in something in tlie shape of a hopper of a mill, having 
 slid through the opeijing, and hanging by my arms. 1 
 could get no loot-hold to shove myself back, nor reach 
 any thing with my hands U) pull myself up. My 
 strength was failing, ami my arms must soon give way, 
 when 1 must slide through, and fall, I knew not where 
 In this extremity I lost all hope of saving myself, and 
 threw myself upon the j)reserving arm of du] .hmI ho 
 brought me out of the ilanger. 
 
 Soon after this the atleinj)t was made to nuluco me
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 57 
 
 to go round the hill, or attempt to get to heaven in an 
 easier way than by the Cross. The enemy of my soul 
 suggested that, by trimming between the world and 
 religion, I could avoid the persecutions then liberally 
 poured upon the Methodists. A young man of my ac 
 quaintance, who belonged to the Church, was pointed 
 to as an example for me to follow. But, thought I, in 
 reply, that young man has not religion enough to carry 
 him safe through the vale of death. I never heard him, 
 in class, speak of the J03"s of sins forgiven; all I ever 
 heard him say was, that he had a desire for religion, 
 and to serve God. This was not enough for me. 1 
 wanted religion enough to make me happy in life, and 
 triumphant in death. 
 
 "That is true," said Satan — by suggestions to my 
 mind as plain and distinct as if by an audible voice — 
 "but he will repent on his death-bed of his unfaithful- 
 ness, and obtain forgiveness from God, and will get to 
 heaven ; and though he gets but just inside of the gate, 
 while more faithful ones will rise higher, and get nearer 
 the throne, yet he will have had the respect of the 
 world, and escaped all the persecutions and trials inci- 
 dent to faithful ones." And he pointed my thoughts to 
 a young lady who had recently" died, who repented on 
 her death-bed, and obtained peace with God, and died 
 happy, through the ])rayers and advice of her father's 
 slave. 
 
 "But, suppose I should die suddenly, or by some 
 casualty, and have no time to repent on a death-bed, 
 then I should be lost." 
 
 "That might be so; but you should hope for the 
 best, and trust in the mercy of God for it." 
 
 The scheme looked so plausible that I concluded to 
 try it; but just then a preacher appeared in the pulpit, 
 rather young, but pale and emaciated, having broken 
 down in the itinerancy, in five years. His name was
 
 58 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Steel. Jli.s text was, ■ IJy liiilli Moses, when he was 
 como to years, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's 
 dani^htor. cliooKirii^ rather to suflir afflictions with the 
 people of God, than to enjoy the j)leasures of sin for a 
 season, esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches 
 than the treasures in Ei^ypt, for he had respect unto 
 the recompense of reward." By the time the text wa$ 
 read I was pretty well cured ; aiid the discourse effect- 
 ually fixed ni}' purpose to make no compromises with 
 the devil, let come what would, wiiich purpose I have 
 kept, b}' the grace of God, to this day. 
 
 Feeling now that I was called to i)reach, I gave up 
 all my early projects for the law, and military glory, 
 and dev«jte(l my studies to a preparation for the work 
 before me. I bought a Pocket Bible, and commenced 
 reading it by course. I first went twice through the 
 New Testament, and then began with the Old, and have 
 since read the Holy Book, by course, i)rol)abh' fifty 
 times, besides my occasional, and family and Church 
 readings. In my eai-ly readings I noted, in a little 
 book kept for that purpose, all the passages I found 
 bearing upon the disputed doctrines of the day. These 
 texts were of great use to me in controversies, in after 
 years, and saved me a great amount of labor in looking 
 them uj). 
 
 On the second day of Aj)ril, ISdll. I joined the 
 Methodist Episcojial Church, in Carlisle, Penn.. under 
 Kev. I^)l>ert Birch. Soon after I joined, the sacrament 
 of the J^ord's-Supper was administered, and I lelt it to 
 be my <iuty, as well as ]»rivilege, to seal my vows of loy- 
 alty to the Savior by a consecration of myself at his 
 altar, hut I thought it becoming a youth to be j)re- 
 ceded by older ones, so 1 waited to see my leader go 
 forwar<l. intending to follow him. But he did not go, 
 and the service closed and I was cut off. This lell mc 
 in deep sorrow. 1 knew not the cause of his not going
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 59 
 
 forward. I thought that every Christian ought to ac- 
 knowledge his Lord, by doing this, in remembrance of 
 him. But by waiting, out of deference to and respect 
 for age, I was deprived from doing what I felt to be a 
 duty and a privilege. 
 
 My distress of mind was great: I did not feel con- 
 demned, for I had intended no wrong, but to do right. 
 But yet I was distressed in mind. And in this state 1 
 went to my boarding-house ; and it occurred to my 
 mind. I know not from what source, if it was not a good 
 one — as the sequel proved it to be — to take a bit of 
 bread and eat it as an emblem of the broken body of 
 Christ, and in remembrance of his death and suffering. 
 And then I took a sup of water, in remembrance of his 
 shed blood; and though the bread and water had not 
 been consecrated in sacerdotal form, nor did the water 
 resemble his blood, as wine would, yet, as the motive 
 qualifies the act. this simple substitute, under the cir- 
 cumstances, was accej)table to God. and he blessed my 
 soul with peace, removing the distress of mind, and I 
 felt approved of God in so doing. 
 
 When I met my leader, I inquired of him why he 
 did not partake of the sacrament, and informed him of 
 the consequence to me. He said that he had an unrec- 
 onciled difficulty with a brother in the Church ; and the 
 Savior said, '-If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and 
 there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against 
 thee, leave there thy gift, and go thy way; first be rec- 
 onciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.'' 
 r learned, afterward, that the difficulty was, that the 
 brother and the leaders daughter wished to unite their 
 fortunes by marriage, but he was opposed to it, and 
 hardness of feeling had grown out of the affair. Bat, 
 as in most such cases, the couple were married. 
 
 This led me to reflect on the text he had quoted ; 
 the plain meaning of which is, "if thou hast given cause
 
 60 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 of complaint ; it' you liavu done wron^; \i' you have been 
 an«rry williout a cause; if yc/w have used opprobrious or 
 unchristian opitlicts. or given wrong names, then it is 
 for you to go and be reconciled betore your gift will be 
 accepted. But if any have ever so much against you 
 without just cause, if you are not in fault, it is no rea- 
 son why you should not otier your gift. Il because our 
 enemies, who are such without cause, have ill-will 
 toward us, is a reason why we should not ot!'er our gilt, 
 then our Lord himselt should have stayed aw:iy. It 
 ue do right we shall be accepted of God, however much 
 others may have against us." My leader had taken tlu; 
 jiopular but erroneous view of the text. 
 
 Having now faiily and fully enlisted in the good 
 cause. 1 devoted myself, soul and body, to God and his 
 Church. I heard my leader speak of a "second bless- 
 ing," and inrjuired what he meant by it. He explained 
 the nature of sanctitication, and j»laced in my Jiands 
 the Discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church, then 
 containing the Doctrinal Ti-acts, an<l ])ointed me partic- 
 ularly to Wesley's tract on Christian perfection. 
 
 I thought if there was a second or a third, or a thou- 
 sand more l)lessings for the Christian than I had at- 
 tained, I wanted them. I had never before heard of 
 this doctrine. I had been taught that the Christian's 
 firM love wa.s the strongest, -but not of long duration, 
 and that the love first obtained would most likely bo 
 hid or buried till the close of life, when being once in 
 grace, it must be always there, and the little spark 
 would be rekindled by the cold winds of death, so that 
 tlu' soul wouM depart in hnpr of future hap]>iness. Hut 
 I desired to lirr while I did live, ami to have religion 
 enough to make and keej> me hapi>y. The idea of hav- 
 ing just religion enough to make one miserable — that is, 
 enough to know our duty and feel the lash of a guilty 
 conscience lor not doing it, enough to be a siTvant, but
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 61 
 
 not enough to be a son — did not suit my views of pro- 
 priety or safety, nor the nature of regeneration. 
 
 By reading the Doctrinal Tracts I was effectually 
 cured of the errors of Calvinism. They cast a new and 
 brilliant light upon the Bibly, and being in accordance 
 with my experience of the Divine favor, which was 
 testified to by the Spirit of God, 1 was strengthened 
 and confirmed in the docti-ines of Methodism. 
 
 Mr. Wesley's tract on Christian perfection was. to 
 me, of the greatest practical importance. 1 found in 
 me the very imperfections therein described, by the 
 light of it, and I also found the remedy, and that their 
 removal was possible by the grace of God, and that the 
 remedy — simple faith in Christ — was attainable; and 
 that it was not only a privilege to attain to it, but a 
 duty to seek it. And having devoted myself to God, 
 for time and eternity, and being resolved to gain all 
 attainable grace, I resolved to seek it at once. 
 
 Though I felt that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven 
 my sins, yet my nature was contaminated both by the 
 fall of Adam and by my former sinful practices. Though 
 my sin.s had been torn out by the roots, and '• separated 
 from me as far as the East is from the West,' yet some- 
 thing like the ]jrongs of those roots seemed to remain; 
 for I felt pride, anger, the love of the world, and such 
 like "roots of bitterness" springing up within and 
 marring my peace. And though I loved God, that love 
 did not appear to be perfect. And learning from this 
 tract, and the Scriptures therein quoted, that it was the 
 "will of God, even my sanctification," this became the 
 object of my pursuit. 
 
 Among my besetting sins, aud perhaps the hardest 
 one to grapple with, was passion, or anger, connected 
 with an impetuosity of nature, which often led me into 
 hasty acts or words, for which I was afterward sorry. 
 When this occurred it marred my peace of mind, nor
 
 62 A WESIKKN PIONEER. 
 
 coul<l 1 n'covcr tliis until 1 liad repented ot it. an<i r)l)- 
 tained fori^iveneHS from God. When a mere child, my 
 motlier, noticing this characteriHtic in nic, often said 
 slio feared this quickness of temper would lead mo into 
 serious trouble in after Ijfe; and, if it had not been 
 cured, or brouu^ht under the control of the grace of 
 God, 1 am fearful it would have been the case. With 
 this sin 1 had a severe contest, which lasted three 
 weeks; but 1 was Hnall}' victorious, and for three years 
 did not hava my passions rutfled uiulor any ever so 
 trying circumstances. 
 
 My nature was not changed, as to its impetuosity, 
 but that being in suV)jecti(jn to the grace of God, it was 
 under control from angry passions. It has often be- 
 trayed me into too fast action or words, and hence im- 
 prudences, though actuated b}' the ])urest of motives. 
 But over my passions I have, by the grace of God, had 
 such control as not to notice even an intended insult, 
 till it was too far in the jiast to notice, ajid let it go to 
 the moles and the bats. 
 
 While at ('arlisle I had an opportunity of witnc.*JS- 
 ing the 'power," u])()n the bodies of persons under 
 religious influence, which led me to examine the case 
 closely. philos(Ji)hically, physiologically, and religiously. 
 The first instance was in class-meeting. A young huly 
 of feeble ])hysical frame, but of undoubted juety. rose 
 to relate the state of her mind, in answer to the inijuiry 
 of the leader, ami while speaking fell like a log set 
 up on one end, striking her heatl on the iron foot of an 
 old-fashioned ten-plate stove. There was no excite 
 ment in the room, further than a gf>od calm state of 
 religious feeling; and no ntlwr <»nt' wM>i ..xmlvicil i\^ 
 she was. 
 
 When I saw her fail upon the iron my flesh cringtMl. 
 and my breath susj)en(le(l for a moment, for 1 thought 
 her skull must be broken, and if so. that death must
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 63 
 
 ensue. Every joint and muscle in her frame appeared 
 to have lost all elasticity, and assumed a rigidity, to 
 me, unaccountable. A cold chill passed over my whole 
 frame; and if I had not been sitting I sho ild have 
 sunk down upon my seat. 
 
 I have seen men fall from being shot, and ha^e 
 stepped over the dead on the field of battle ; but the 
 idea of such a fall, and as I thought for a moment, a 
 death in the house of G-od. and connected with his wor- 
 ship, gave me such feelings as I never had before or 
 since. But they were momentary, for the good sisters 
 present, who understood the matter, immediately raised 
 her up, and the rigid state of her frame was gone and 
 she went on with her sweet story of love to God and 
 his cause, and of the peace and joy she felt in her soul. 
 And when the meeting was out she walked off as 
 sprightly as if nothing of the kind had occurred. I 
 inquired, afterward, if her head was not hurt, and was 
 assured that not even a bump was raised. 
 
 Soon after this I went with this young lady and 
 several other persons of both sexes, six miles on foot, 
 to hear brother Birch preach, at one of his country ap- 
 pointments. At the close of the class-meeting, which 
 followed preaching, this young lady took a regular 
 jumping shout. Four young ladies, each of them larger 
 and stouter than herself, attempted to hold her, but in 
 vain. Their united strength was apparently no more 
 than that of a child. She would spring from them, 
 sometimes across the room, and repeatedly leap some 
 two feet high and fall to the floor, her head often strik- 
 ing on the end of a table or chest which stood in the 
 room, and then upon the uncarpeted floor. This was 
 continued for an hour or more, in which time she must 
 have taken twenty or more such falls. At first my 
 feelings again cringed; but recollecting the occurrence 
 in the church, and seeing that she received no injury
 
 64 A WESTKkN IMONKKK. 
 
 now, my iturs subsided, and 1 sat with aHtoninliment 
 and wonder, viewing tlie 8eenc before me. being now 
 KalisHed that her excitement and superhuman strength 
 were produced in some mysteriouK wa}*, to me un- 
 known, by the inthience of the Divine Spirit upon her 
 constitutional teni})erament. J was also satisfied that 
 no person could receive injury, in such an exercise, 
 when it was from the divine influence; for God never 
 did. and never will hurt any body. 
 
 On our way lujriie, near midnight, after thus travel- 
 ing twelve miles on foot, and taking an hour's jump- 
 ing and thumping on the table, chest, and floor, she 
 nmde no complaint of weariness, but said she felt 
 better in body and mind than when she went out to 
 the meeting. 
 
 Feeling disposed to obey God in all things, and be- 
 lieving that lie would not have called me to the min- 
 istry, but with a design to assist and bless and make 
 me useful in it, 1 devoted my leisure moments to read- 
 ing, prayer, hearing the Word, and, as opportunity 
 occurred, to converse with and exhort others to seek 
 the pearl of great price ; and I had the satisfaction of 
 seeing one converted wh<> attributeil her awakening to 
 my conversation and exhortation in the social circle, 
 before 1 left Carlisle. Such was my thiist for knowl- 
 edge, and that kind too that would <iiialify mo for the 
 work to which 1 fell myself to be called, that when I 
 could not get lights in the house, 1 have sat for hours 
 out-of-doors and read by moonlight, when that orb 
 was at or near its full, and no clouds intervening. 
 
 In the Fall of that year. (18(M>,) I attended a camp- 
 meeting about six miles from Carlisle, but with very 
 ditterent views and feelings from those 1 had at Cro- 
 ton. N. Y., in iHd.'). About a do/.en of us, male and 
 female, not belonging to families who had tents, nor 
 having friends on the ground who had tenta to invito
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON, 65 
 
 US to, associated to form a tent. The ladies furnished 
 bedding, and sheets of which to make the tents, and 
 the cooking and table apparatus, while the men made 
 lip a purse to purchase the provisions, and procure a 
 team to convey the ladies and baggage to and from the 
 encampment, the men going on foot. We pitched our 
 tent near the preachers' stand, and from j)i*udential 
 motives, invited an elderly married man to tent with 
 and preside over us. 
 
 This meeting, to me, was the nearest heaven of any 
 place I had ever been in ; and I felt that if other du- 
 ties of life would admit of it, I should like to live and 
 die on that sacred s])ot. It was, indeed, " the house of 
 God and the gate of heaven" to me, and hundreds of 
 others. 
 
 I suppose there was the usual amount of rowdyism 
 outside the camp, for, as in the days of Job, '-when the 
 sons of God came to present themselves before the 
 Lord, Satan came also among them," so it has been 
 since, but I saw none of it, for I went not among them. 
 A powerful work of God was going on in the tents, 
 and at the altar, and scores, and probably a hundred or 
 more precious souls were converted to God. I never 
 wept more freely than when I left the ground, which 
 to me, and to many others, was holy ground. 
 
 At this meeting I witnessed more of the shouting 
 and jumping exercise, under circumstances that proved 
 the protection of God from any and all harm. The 
 seats in the altar were made of thick oak slabs, hav- 
 ing sharp edges, but slightly trimmed. The jumpers 
 were mostly ladies' who leaped high and fell upon the 
 edges of the seats with such force that under ordinary 
 circumstances must have broken limbs and ribs. But 
 no one was injured. 
 
 I saw some who fell, when awakened to a sense of 
 their lost estate, male and female, who lay for hours as 
 
 ()
 
 66 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 il" (lead, liavin«^ no aj))»i'arance of litf, cxrcpt a regular 
 pulse and occasional breathing; some la}- as liin]) as a 
 rag, their joints as loose as those of a skeleton hung 
 together by wires, while others were so stiff and rigid 
 in their joints tliat apparently a bone would break an 
 soon as a joint would bend. In all these cases when 
 the person came to, it was with a shout of glory to God 
 for pardoning mercy. I saw, also, several, who had 
 previously obtained religion, thus lie, and in general 
 they came out of such spells with a shout, but some 
 came to as if out of a sleep; but all were as happy, ap- 
 parently, as they could be in the body. 
 
 When under awakening, and during my penitent 
 state, the sin of leaving my widowed mother, aw 1 did, 
 was among the heaviest that troubled me; and to make 
 the best amends 1 could, as 1 was then situated, I 
 wrote to her, informing her of my whereabouts, and 
 the state of my mind. I soon received an answer that 
 the storm under which 1 had Kilt home had blown 
 over. The boys were arrested, but all were ac(piitted 
 but one, who was, indeed, the instigator of the atl'air 
 })y leading the rest of us to the place, for tlie purpose, 
 as it turned out, of getting us into a (luanel on A/s 
 account, and my mother urged me to i-eturn. TIhh 
 caused me to abandon my Ohio intentions and turn my 
 feet toward my native State. 
 
 On my way I spent a week in Columbia, on the Sus- 
 quehanna Kivor, going thence to a camp meeting about 
 six miles Irom Lancaster, Penn.. in the neighborhood 
 of the Boehms. Here I IkkI :iii«>ihor ]>reciou8 time in 
 waiting u])on (iod in the tented grove; here I saw an«l 
 heard 'J'homas Hireh and Thomas Boring, of IMiila- 
 del])hia, and her*' I parted with Robert Birch, who re- 
 ceived me into tlu' (Miurch and S(M'me(| to me :is a 
 father. 
 
 In *)ne of brotliei* Boring's discourses, he look his
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 67 
 
 text from Psa. Ixxx, 8, etc. : " Thou hast brought a vine 
 out of Egy2)t; thou hast cast out the heathen, and 
 planted it,' etc. In applying this to the Church and 
 the spread of pure religion, he said : " God took a branch 
 of this vine and planted it in Oxford, in England. It 
 spread all over that kingdom, and over the Atlantic to 
 our shores, where it took root and is spreading over this 
 land. Though there was a time when all the Method- 
 ists in America could have been put into a corn -crib, 
 now all the corn-cribs Joseph had in Egypt could not 
 hold them." Such a remark now would not be so ap- 
 preciated as then, when Methodists were comj)aratively 
 few, and were subject to all manner of indignities. 
 
 I met at this meeting a young lady, who the year 
 before, at Columbia, had the most remarkable vision of 
 the spirit world of any person I ever saw. She lost 
 her strength in church at a quarterly-meeting, and was 
 carried home Sabbath afternoon^ She continued in this 
 state, h'ing on the bed till Monday morning, when she 
 seemed to awake. She told her friends she should go 
 again and remain in that state till Friday at 3 o'clock, 
 P. M., and charged them to give her nothing to eat or 
 drink, or suffer any person to touch her, and especially 
 not to feel her pulse. The people in town became much 
 excited, and all manner of remarks were made about 
 the case, good, bad, and indifferent. The house was 
 filled with goers and comers from each morning till a 
 late hour at night. 
 
 On AYednesda}^ a lady approached her by stealth 
 and felt of her pulse, when she rose up and said : '• Why 
 did you suffer this woman to touch me, when I charged 
 you not to? I fell like a dead body from heaven, the 
 moment she did so. I shall go again and remain till 
 Friday, as I told you. But be sure and let no one 
 touch me, or offer me any thing to eat or drink." This 
 incident raised the excitement among outsiders still
 
 68 A WKSTKKN I'lONKER. 
 
 lii^lnT. an»l oil 1'liurpday another attempt wap made to 
 feel her }>iilse. but was j)reventcd. 
 
 On Friday tlie house was filled with an anxious people 
 to see the rising up. As 3 o'clock approached some 
 misgivings of her friends occurred, lest, being so long 
 without food, she should not come to. liut at the mo- 
 ment she sat up in bed, as if an unseen hand had raised 
 her. She upbraided the woman who had made the at- 
 tempt to touch her the day before, and told her that if 
 she had succeeded she would have been struck dead 
 that moment. She pointed to several in the room, and 
 told them what they had said about hef, not in her 
 ])resence, so that she could not have heard it herself. 
 These revelations prepared the people to believe what 
 she had to say about the spirit world, but which can not 
 be here related. 
 
 CHAPTER TV. 
 
 ON my way home I went tliroULrli riiiladelphia. Bur- 
 lington, and South Am boy, to New York. Here 1 
 took passage in a sloop bound to Bridgeport, Conn. 1 
 had long had a desire to see tfiis place, and took this 
 opportunity- to visit it. On our passage up Long Is 
 land Sound, in the night, we were struck b}' a sudden 
 storm, and the vessel being without ballast, and the 
 sailors being rather tanh' in getting down the sails, 
 the vessel was thrown ui)on her biam ends, and the 
 table and chairs in the cabin fell to the lee side in 
 great conrusion. and to apj)carance. for a moment, she 
 must fill with water, and perhaj)s sink to the bottom 
 of the Sound. 
 
 1 stood in tlu' ial>in door. bnice«l against the sidts 
 of it, the only passenger on board, and seeing her go
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 69 
 
 down gunwales under. I looked, expecting to see the 
 mast and sails in the water, in a moment more. But 
 I was never more calm in mind in my life. I felt as- 
 sured, if the vessel were lost, I should get ashore in 
 some way, if it was on an oar or plank. This assur- 
 ance grew out of the fact of my call to the ministry, 
 for I thought that if God designed me for that work, 
 he would preserve me to do it. 
 
 During the careening of the vessel, the men held on 
 to the rigging and were quite still, without a profane 
 word. But as soon as she righted up they began their 
 wonted profanity. The captain said he "guessed the 
 passenger was badly scared." But if he had known 
 my thoughts and feelings, he would have guessed oth- 
 erwise. But 1 guessed that they were badly scared, 
 for they held up from profanity till the danger was 
 passed. 
 
 In Bridgeport I. obtained work, and wrote to my 
 mother and uncle, who came to see me, and we arranged 
 to buy my time, paid him for it, and thus I became my 
 own master at sixteen years of age. While at Carlisle I 
 took a course of instructions in my trade, from the best 
 workman in that town, and was now qualified to do 
 the best work in my new residence. Bridgeport was 
 then but a small borough, though quite an ancient sea- 
 port, and it being better for my trade than Danbury, 
 and but twenty miles from my mother, whom I could 
 visit and transmit my earnings to as they came in. I 
 concluded to stay there. 
 
 As soon as I had secured work I made inquiiy for 
 Methodists; of these I found but one in the place, and 
 she was a servant girl. But a mile or so out west, in 
 "Mutton Lane," I learned there was a class and preach- 
 ing-place, at "Father Wells's." His wife with two of 
 her sisters constituted the first class of Methodists 
 formed in New England by Jesse Lee; who said "the
 
 70 A WESTETRN PIONEER. 
 
 first success he met with in New England was in that 
 he cauglil those ewe lambs in Mutton Lane." 
 
 This name was attached to the street which consti- 
 tuted the line between the towns of Stratlord and Fair- 
 ticld. The parish church, which then stood on it. wa.s 
 called Stratrteld, j)artakin^ of the nanus ol" both towns, 
 as it embraced territory in each. 
 
 'J'liis street ran down upon u point of land into Long 
 Lsland Sound, between ]^ri<lLCcj;ort and lilack Kock 
 harbors, and in the Jvcvijlulionary war, wlun the 
 J>ritisii occupied Long Ishuid. tlio Tories and Cow- 
 boys, who stole the slieep and cattle of the AVhigs, and 
 conveyed them to the Briti.sh, took tliem down this 
 street, called a lane, though of ample width, and 
 shipped them to the Lsland. This gave the street tl»e 
 name of Mutton Lane. It was on this street that the 
 famous Barnum, the prince of humbugs, built his splen- 
 did residence that was afterward burned. 
 
 On the morning of the first Sabbath after I reached 
 Bridgeport, I wended my way to Father Wells's, in quest 
 of a Methodist meeting — for ''birds of a fealhor will 
 llocU together" — and on entering the house, and before 
 1 had time to intro<luce m3solf, Mother Wells met mo 
 with a smiling coniitenanee and oulstretehed hand, 
 saying, "This, 1 j)resume, is oui* young biolhei* of 
 whom we have heard in Bridgeport. " Of course. 1 
 received a hearty welcome. 
 
 1 went witii them that day to prayer and class- 
 meeting, held in a private house, and the next night 
 being preaehing night, I i)resented my certificate to 
 ]5illy Jlibbard, then in charge of Old Reading circuit, 
 and thus became attached to the first Methodist class 
 tbrmed in New England. This was about the 10th of 
 September. 1800. 
 
 in October 1 visited my mother in J)anbuiy, and 
 on Sabbath, the 29th, attended Methodist meeting in
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 71 
 
 the old school-house, the first time I had met that class 
 since I embraced religion. I found that several young 
 persons, of my former associates, had embraced religion, 
 and belonged to the class. But, had it been otherwise. 
 I now had strength enough to withstand the charms of 
 youthful company. I heard a local preacher of my 
 name, but not near enough related to claim any con- 
 nection with him, except in the Lord. 
 
 From the time I was enlightened on the subject of 
 sanctification I had been in earnest pursuit of it, by 
 fasting every Friday, and by continued meditation and 
 prayer, and faith. My faith was: 1. That the blessing 
 was attainable. I should no more have sought this 
 blessing if I had not believed it attainable, than I 
 should have sought justification without faith in its 
 attainability. 2. I believed that it was " the will of 
 God, even my sanctification ;" and if so, it was not 
 only a privilege, but a dut}^ to seek and enjoy it. And, 
 further, that "if I confessed my sins" — as I did — "he 
 Avas faithful and just to forgive my sins, and to cleanse 
 me from all unrighteousness." 3. I believed that with- 
 out it I should lack a fitness for heaven, for "without 
 holiness no man shall see the Lord" in peace. 4. I 
 believed that in the enjoymen-t of this blessing I should 
 be happier than in a mere justified state; for the 
 holier a person is the more he is like God, and, of 
 course, the happier; and happiness, both on earth and 
 finall}' in heaven, was the great object of my pursuit. 
 
 While I was listening to the Word preached on this 
 day a strange feeling came over me. I seemed to be 
 on the banks of Jordan, in sight of the promised land 
 I then viewed the passage of the Israelites through 
 the Red Sea, as typical of conversion ; their journey 
 through the wilderness, as typical of the justified state; 
 and crossing Jordan, as t3^pical of sanctification. This 
 accounts for the train of thought and feeling. In an
 
 iZ A WESTERN TIONEER. 
 
 instant a change camo over me, as sensibly as when I 
 was converted, wliich gave me a higher and purer 
 j)enco than that of justiticalion. and the hiamc kind of 
 whisper in my ear, as I had experienceii when awakened 
 and converted, said, "You {U'o sanctified." 
 
 But. thoug)>t I. this is impossible for one so young, 
 and in so short a time aller conversion; while the Is- 
 raelites were forty years in the wilderness, in what I 
 then deemed to be a type of the justified state, and 
 many, now on their way, had been ten, twenty, and 
 even forty years in that state, and 3'et not sanctified. 
 But the whisper was repeated, "You are sanctified." 
 " Then," said I, " Lord, if it is so, give me the evidence of 
 it;" and the evidence came in a similar manner to that 
 of justification, except that the peace I now felt was as 
 much superior to that of justification, as the latter is 
 superior to the peace of a mind not disturbed by a 
 c()iisci(jusness of sin. 
 
 i had had a conviction of the necessit}' of being 
 cleansed from inbred sin, as clear as were ni}^ convic- 
 tions of sin, and the necrssily of j)ardon ; but with this 
 difference: Before ju^titicat ion a heavy sense of sin and 
 burden of guilt lay upon my conscience, but after par- 
 don, and before sanclitication, I had no sense of guilt. 
 I could not, of course, feel guilty of sin for which I had 
 been pardoned — but I felt a sense of want of conformity 
 to the divine image; a hungering and thirsting to be 
 made clean, to have my love to God made ])erfeet. 
 
 Bui now my peace of mind and love to God 
 Beemed to be perfect. It flowed like the river, not like 
 a brook over falls and rapids, and then in a smoother 
 current, but deep, constant, and uniform. And to ])re- 
 servo this state of mind, one means I adopted was not 
 to do any thing that I would not be willing to die in 
 the act; and wlim any thing ]iresent«M| it.nelf to be 
 ilone, or if solicited or trmpte(l to do any thing, 1 first
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 73 
 
 looked inwardly and to God, to see whether my con- 
 science approved or disapproved, and whether 1 would 
 be willing to die in the act and go before my judge. 
 If so, I went on ; if not, I desisted, no difference what, 
 when, or where, or what would be the consequences, the 
 p-rsecutions, opprobriums, or contempt it might subject 
 me to. And this is still the motto of mj- life, and a 
 safeguard. 
 
 I have often erred in judgment as to what was right 
 or wrong, and from that cause erred in action, but still 
 feeling no reproof of conscience. I acted as I did with 
 a willingness to die in the deed, if God should see fit to 
 call me then, and trusted to his mercy to overlook and 
 wipe out the unavoidable infirmities of my nature. 
 In short, however I may have erred in judgment, and, 
 consequently, therefrom erred in action, it has been 
 only in such matters as do not involve a violation of the 
 moral law, and, of course, not a matter of approval or 
 disapproval by an enlightened conscience, but such 
 matters as are left to human judgment, or such things 
 as we iTLixy do or not do, without involving guilt before 
 God. In all such matters, if shown my error, it gives 
 me more pleasure to be corrected, than it would to 
 triumph in the error in debate ou the question. 
 
 I found that I was not exempt from temptation, but 
 rather temptations were heavier than before; but they 
 had less effect, there being no foe within to reciprocate 
 or aid the outward enemy. The nearer one lives to 
 God, the more the devil will hate him, and, of course, 
 try him ; and the higher one rises in the favor of God, 
 and the higher the profession of it, the farther he must 
 fall, if he falls at all, and the more harm it will do to 
 the cause of God. This furnishes another and a strong 
 reason for Satanic attack. And, finally, I have found 
 that grace being according to our day, not onl}^ implies 
 that grace will be given to meet any emergenc}', but it 
 
 7
 
 4 A WliSTEkN hlONtlER. 
 
 I III |IIK-> 
 
 i|iiKvs ihai giaci- will not be ^iven wlioii aini wIkto 
 tlioro is no use Tor ii. It must be used, like any other 
 talent, to ^low. Ilenee, whatever i^raee we may have, 
 it will be tried to its utmost ])OWer of resislam *.•. but not 
 beyond what we are able to bear. 
 
 I found, further, that the human heart is like a fort ; 
 when attaeked from without, if there is an enemy 
 within who will oj>en the ^ates, or weaken the defenses, 
 there is more danu^er of its falling than if there were no 
 such enemies within. Ami so with temptation; if 
 there is within the luart whnt will reeij)rocate or 
 affiliate with what is without, the defenses ai-e weakened, 
 and it is harder [o resist. If there is disease in the body, 
 there is not that strength to resist disease that tltere 
 would be if perfeet health and strength reigned within. 
 
 In the eourse of the ensuing week, after reeei\ ing 
 this blessing, I returned to Bridgeport, and on Saturday 
 night, while lull of peaee and j«)y, was eontemj)lating the 
 morrow's meeting, and the tellingof my elass-mates what 
 great things CJod had done for me. Just then Satan 
 made an assault on a new taek. 'Now," said he, ''that 
 will be ver}' foolish in you. for you are so young, and 
 of so short exj)eriiiue that no one will believe you. 
 There ni-e old and pious members of the ehi^s, who have 
 livid as holy as }()U, and yet have not attained to this 
 graee. You will only injure the eause, by bringiug 
 this doetrine into disrepute and eontempt. For the 
 good of the eause, therefore, you ought to keep this 
 nuitter to yourself Knjoy it as well as you ean. to 
 yourself, but do not expose this great and holy doetrine, 
 and 3'ourself, to contempt, aiul thereby ])revenl others 
 from seeking it." 
 
 It must be admitted that this is a Very sjieeious and 
 jihujsible argument, and being so clothed, as *an angel 
 of light, ' I was not aware, at first, that it was the devil 
 who suggested this to my mind. As 1 loved the cause
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 75 
 
 of truth, and was un\Yilling to injure it in any waj^, I 
 yielded to the suggestion, and instantly a painful dark- 
 ness came over my mind, and I felt reproved for con- 
 cluding not to let the light, which God had marvel- 
 ously given me, shine before otliers, and thereby 
 encourage them to glorify God by seeking it also. 1 
 saw at once tliat it was the devil who presented this 
 specious argument, and who had taken advantage of 
 my youth and inexperience, and thus led me, unwit- 
 tinglj^, to grieve the Good Spirit. Had I known the 
 author of the suggestion, I should have rejected him, 
 and his argument, at once; but, having "transformed 
 himself into an angel of light," he deceived me. But 
 the finale of the matter was to his disadvantage, for I 
 learned by it some of his wiles, and how to resist him 
 in the future. 
 
 I spent the night in regret, in sorrow, and in prayer, 
 and promised God that if he would restore the blessing, 
 I would declare it; and whether he did or not, I deter- 
 mined to declare what he had done for me, and how 
 the enemy had cheated me out of it; and warn all, in 
 case the}' obtained like favor, not to be thus misled. 
 Toward morning the blessing returned, but not as clear 
 and unclouded as before. There seemed to be a draw- 
 back to it, as if to chastise me for my want of faith in 
 God, to acknowledge him before men, and leave conse- 
 quences with him. 
 
 The next day I met the class, and told the whole 
 story, and how I then felt. In doing so the evidence 
 \vas brightened, and my class-mates, instead of doing as 
 Satan intimated they would, rejoiced, and magnified 
 the grace and mere}' of God, and took courage to seek 
 it for. themselves. It was not long before several of the 
 members of the class professed to have attained the 
 same great blessing to their own souls. 
 
 In the first year of my Christian life, once in about
 
 76 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 two wieks. I had a roi^ular set to witli the cnomv. and 
 every trial I tame tiiroui^h, beint^ alwavB eventually 
 victorious, I felt as if I iiad passed through u retininj^ 
 furnace, and came uut, like the silver or «^old, punM* 
 than before, and could see with m^' miiul's eye the 
 dross that was left behind; and this, too, after, as well 
 as before, sanctitication. I also ])erceived that the en- 
 emy grew weaker and weaker, after eveiv repulse. an<l 
 1 i^rew stronger. 
 
 IJut what he failed in strength he tiied to make up 
 in strateg}-. lie suggested to me that he had tried his 
 last mode of attack, having varied his mode in every 
 trial, every time trying some new tack, till he was ex- 
 hausted, and could not attack in any new form, but 
 must come, if at all, in one of the old modes. This was 
 done to throw me off m}' guard ; for I soon found that 
 when such a thought occurred, some new mode of attack 
 would soon follow, and fell the full force of the declara- 
 tion of the Lord, that the devil is a liar an<l the father 
 of lies, and is not to be trusted; and that my «>nly 
 safet}' was in living near to God, and resisting the 
 devil, in whatever shape or form he might come. If I 
 attemj)ted to reason with iiim he always got the better 
 of the argument; and well he n»ight, for he is of a 
 higher (jrder of intelligence, and has had six thousand, 
 or more, yeai*8 of experience in sophistry and decep- 
 tion. The only way, therefore, is to resist him at once, 
 that he may tlee from us, and do as Michael did, when 
 contending with him about the body of Moses, jiray 
 God to rebuke him. We ((Ui pray, and 
 
 "The devil tremble.'*, when lie sees 
 Tiie weakest saint upon hi.s knees!" 
 
 lOven oui- Hiviiic I>ord an<I Master, with all his wis- 
 dom, did not attempt to n'ason with the devil, in the 
 tcmi»tation, but repulsed him. by quoting the Word
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 77 
 
 of God, and by a direct rejection, ••Grot thee behind 
 me, Satan." 
 
 In Bridgeport I began to make my first efforts at 
 exhortation and public prayer — a small affair, of course. 
 In my first efforts in the prayer-meetings, it seemed as 
 if my breast was as large as a half-bushel, and I could 
 not onl}' feel my heart beat, but hear its throbs in my 
 ears ; and sometimes it seemed, or really was the case, 
 that my heart, or something else, rose into my throat, 
 so as to prevent my utterance, and I would have to de- 
 sist. But my brethren bore with mj' weakness in the 
 day of small things, and recommended me for license 
 to exhort, and on the 10th of March, 1810, I was so 
 licensed by the quarterlj'-meeting conference, and I 
 commenced making regular appointments, and held 
 prayer-meetings, and exhorted. 
 
 My acquaintance with Mother AYells gave me an 
 oi^portunity to hear much of Jesse Lee, and from her I 
 l«^arned many interesting anecdotes of him, which I 
 have not seen in print. Mrs. Wells lived opposite Mrs. 
 Wheeler, at whose house Lee first called, on coming to 
 the place. Mrs. Wells was one of the company of ladies 
 who were at Mrs. Wheeler's at the time of the call. 
 
 It has been stated that Mrs. Wheeler joined the 
 class first formed by Mr. Lee, but this is a mistake. 
 vShe very cordially received him to her house, and heard 
 him with much pleasure and profit; and, in my time, 
 was very friendly, and often attended preaching, prayer 
 and class meetings, but never joined the Methodists. 
 The first class consisted of three sisters, of the Hall 
 family, who resided on the same street, about three 
 miles distant. They were Mary Wells. Euth Hall, who 
 Avas never married, and a married sister, who died in 
 the Lord before ray time there, and whose name is gone 
 from me. Mrs. Wheeler was a member of the Congre- 
 gational Church.
 
 78 A WESTIIKN PIONKEK. 
 
 Tliu Hall family llius becominic itKntificd with tho 
 Churdi, their houst* was tho prrachini; and stopiiinix 
 place for Mr. Lee, in ll»at iifii^hlxirhood, at that tiim-. 
 
 At one of his appointinciits Iktc. whih^ ]»reaehii>;;. a 
 child cried, and its mother Hlartid to leave the room 
 with it, when a rowdy shoved out his foot to trip her, 
 and cause her to fall to the floor witii the child. Lee 
 saw this, and stopped in his discourse, and looking the 
 man full and sternly in the face, said, ' When the sons 
 of God came to present themselves before the Lord, 
 Satan came also among them." At this the eyes of 
 the congregation, most of whom had noticed his mean- 
 ness, turned ui)on him, and as Lee resumed his dis- 
 course, the man slunk away, in shame and disgrace, and 
 never troubled them again. 
 
 At one time, when Lee was standing at the door of" 
 the Hall house, it being on elevated ground, and look- 
 ing over the beautiful landscape between him and the 
 Sound, 1)0 noticed the Strattieid meeting-house, and 
 said, "The Methodists will yet own and occupy that 
 house." Mother AVells often repeated the prediction to 
 me, when there was no more ])rospect of its becoming 
 true than of any other improbable thing; but she be- 
 lieved that the Good Spirit suggested tho thought to 
 him, and that it would be so. And, as Bridgeport grew 
 in population and business, a new meeting-house was 
 built there for the parish, and the old one, in 1815, fell 
 into the hands of the Methodists. This old building 
 had then stood there one hundred and thirty years, 
 and the steeple to it ninety years. Whiti'fieid ))reaehed 
 from the doorslep of it. and 1 saw in tiie neiglilM»rhnod 
 an old la<ly who was converted undi'r his jneaehing 
 when yoiing. 
 
 Not far from this ohi Slrattield meeting-house, to 
 the south-east of it, in the corner of a field, and on a 
 rise of ground, in my time, there was a large granite
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 79 
 
 rock, with an oval surface, and covering several square 
 rods. On the top of this rock were some of the most 
 remarkable prints of human limbs that I ever saw, and 
 that greatl}' stagger the theories of modern geologists. 
 They were near an inch in depth, and apparently made 
 hj a man of large size, who faced the East, and fell upon 
 his knees, and then his hands, as if worshiping the sun 
 at its rising. Tlie feet, knees, and hands were naked. 
 The prints had no appearance of being the work of 
 chisels, or other tools, but plainly the impress of the 
 naked natural feet, knees, and hands of a man — being 
 too large to have been of a woman — and much resem- 
 bling impressions I have seen made in brick-mortar, 
 or soft brick, upon the yard. 
 
 As far as I could learn they were there when the 
 whites first settled that country near two hundred 
 years before; but no one had any tradition from the 
 Indians as to their cause, or when first discovered. 
 That rock must have been in a soft state since there 
 were men upon this continent, and hardened since. I 
 have been told by miners from California that there are 
 granite bowlders in that country in all stages of hard- 
 ness, from those that will easily crumble under the 
 hammer to those too hard for the drill or ciiisel; and I 
 have been told by a miner from Cornwall, England, 
 that he has wrought in granite crevice mines in that 
 country, in which one side of the crevice was so hard 
 that when struck bj' the pick the fire would fly, while 
 on the other side the w^all, though as pure granite as 
 its opposite, was so soft that it required planking to pre- 
 vent its caving in upon the workmen. The persons 
 giving me this information were men of intelligence 
 and moral integrity. Allowing what they said to be 
 true, and I believed them, it goes to confirm the idea 
 that this granite rock, near Bridgeport, Conn., was once 
 soft enough to receive the imprints I saw in them.
 
 80 A WESTI-.KN riONKER. 
 
 In 1H52, havin;^ occasion to use the iact of iIjoso im- 
 prints. I wrote to a friend at Bridgeport to examine 
 them, and give me a (les('rij)tion tliereof; but he wrote 
 back that the quarries had desti'oyc'l the surface of the 
 rock, and tliey c<»uhl not be found. 
 
 Being innv aulii<»i-izi'<l to iiold meetings I was not 
 idle, but made ap})ointinents in diffei-ent ))Uice8. some 
 of them several miles distant, to and irom which I 
 traveled on foot. No storms prevented me from meet- 
 ing my appointments; and, to eneouiage me in facing 
 the storms, Mother Wells frequently told me how the 
 little zealous flock of earl}' Methodists used to travel on 
 foot for miles to meet their praying friends, and some- 
 times their long red cloaks — the fashion of those times — 
 would be so thickly- covered with sleet and frozen rain 
 tliat they would stand upright on the floor after the 
 wearers had got out of them. 
 
 One of my a})])<)intnu'nts was at Green's fi\rms, six 
 miles out, on Saturday night, and then to brother Os- 
 bon's, at Greenfield, two and a half miles, on Sabbath. 
 The class belonged at Osbon's, and the meeting the 
 night before was an extra one. On Sabbath we held 
 morning and afternoon service, meeting class in the in- 
 terval. This was New Englnnd custom. From Osbon's 
 I returned home on Sabbath evening, in time lor night 
 meeting. These journeys I performe(l on foot, about 
 fifteen miles, once in two weeks. 
 
 One day, at Osbon's, a young lady staye<l in class 
 from motives of curiosity, which h:ul become (piite com- 
 mon in those days. In going round 1 asked her if she 
 enjoyed religion? She said ''No." "Have you not a 
 desire for it?" "No," was the j^nMnpt re])ly. From 
 such an answer I took it for granted that she was a 
 haidiiud Niniui-. and i-xliorU-d lu-r a(<-<>r(lingly, which 
 took eflicl, and she was awakened, and sought and 
 found peace with Ciod. As soon as she became peni-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRU^SON. 81 
 
 tent she acknowledged that in class she did desire re- 
 ligion, but answered as she did because she feared that 
 she should do as others had done, forget it as soon as 
 she got out-of-doors, and thought she would answer me 
 as her conduct would probably be in the sequel. 
 
 But there was an unexpected trouble to meet her in 
 seeking the Savior. She was engaged to be married. 
 As soon as her lover knew that she was seeking religion 
 among the Methodists — which, in most cases, in those 
 times was equivalent to joining the Church — he per- 
 emptorily demanded of her to leave the Methodists, or 
 he would leave her. To this she promptly replied, "If 
 that is all 3'ou care about me, the sooner you leave the 
 better; for I will save my soul, husband or no husband." 
 
 This took him all aback; for he thought her love 
 for him would induce her to leave any thing for his 
 sake, not then understanding the depth of the concern 
 of an awakened soul. Finding her so resolute, as he 
 afterward told me, he regretted his demand, and would 
 have given all he had in the world if he had not said 
 it; but, having said it, the pride of his heart would 
 not let him then take it back, and he left her for a 
 season. 
 
 But such was his attachment to her he could not be 
 content without seeing her as often as possible; and, to 
 have this privilege, he attended Methodist meetings 
 regularly, where she was sure to be, not only on Sun- 
 day's, but also on week-night praj^er-meetings. This 
 brought him in contact with the awakening instru- 
 mentalities of the Gospel; and, hearing her pray in 
 public, after her conversion, he, also, was awakened, 
 and at once approached his loved one, and asked her 
 to forgive him, and allow him to renew his visits — 
 which, of course, she did. and prayed for him, and he 
 was converted in about a month after she was. They 
 were soon afterward married, having both joined the
 
 82 A WESTERN PIONEEK. 
 
 Church; ami ho c>fien tlianked God, and his wife, too, 
 for her integrity, which had been tlie means of saving 
 both of them; while, if she had given way to his un- 
 reasonable and ungentlemanly demand, probably both 
 would have perished together. 
 
 In 1810, on a visit to m}' mother, she expressed a 
 wish that 1 would get Betsy, my oldest sister, converted. 
 I replied that I could not convert her; I could only use 
 the means. 
 
 "I know that," she said, ''but 1 wisli you would use 
 the means." 
 
 "I will," said I. ''But, mother, would 30U be will- 
 ing for her to be a Methodist?" 
 
 ''I don't care what she is if she will only become a 
 Christian.'^ 
 
 "Well, there is to be a camp-meeting in September, 
 at Pauldinjr s, seventeen miles from here, and if \ ou will 
 prepare u.s some provisions I will secure a conveyance, 
 and a place in a tent, and take her along, if she will go." 
 
 But the thought of a camp-meeting — which was as- 
 sociated in her mind with all the dismal and slanderous 
 stories she had ever heard of them— caused her to 
 shudder. 
 
 "But, mother, are you afraid to trust Betsy any- 
 where?" 
 
 ''No," said slie ; "but such dreadful stories are told 
 of them, I fear some bad report; but. it yon will see to 
 her she may go." 
 
 Betsy was one of those lively and moving spirits 
 that gave life to the company she was in, aiul, without 
 her. the circle in which she moved — the first in the 
 place — were at a loss for amusements. She to(d< the 
 lead in the talk, in the ]»lay, an<l in the dance; an«l this 
 was the rea.son for my mothers great anxiety for her 
 conversion to (tod. 
 
 As the time for the meeting a])proached, 1 dreamed
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 83 
 
 of seeing a child, a mere iufaut, whose hands and 
 fingers were tinged with gold, very bright, and it was 
 very happy, lifting its hands and saying glory, though 
 apparently too young to talk. This encouraged me 
 greatly to hope and pray for my sister's conversion. 
 But it was the most distant thought in her mind. She 
 had not heard the conversation between me and my 
 mother upon the subject. But being of a romantic 
 turn of mind, when 1 proposed to her to accompany 
 me to the meeting, she at once consented, laughingly, 
 expecting a romantic time of it, including the ride in 
 the country and the scenery in the woods. 
 
 The people with whom we tented were of acknowl- 
 edged respectability, which allayed the fears of both 
 mother and sister. As soon as we were on the ground 
 I introduced her to some sisters of deep piety, intelli- 
 gent, and zealous for the salvation of souls; informing 
 them of the desire of myself and mother. As I and my 
 history had become somewhat known among them, 
 there was an additional motive to prompt them to dili- 
 gence in the matter. And on the Sabbath she was 
 powerfully convicted and convinced of sin, so that she 
 went into the prayer circle and wept and prayed. But 
 she did not then and there find peace, but became 
 fixed in her determination to abandon the pleasures of 
 sin, and seek for pardoning mercy. 
 
 On reaching my mothers on Monday, an unexpected 
 storm broke down upon us. Some persons who were 
 at the meeting on Sabbath and saw my sister in the 
 prayer ring, saw, also, a girl of doubtful reputation in 
 the same ring containing probably two hundred per- 
 sons, though on the opposite side of it, and in no wise 
 connected with her. But on reaching tuwn they re- 
 ported that Betsy was down with Phene B. among 
 the Methodists. This roused my mother. *She thought 
 Betsy was ruined. She forgot that the Savior had
 
 84 A NV1-,M1 K.N rilKMl-.K. 
 
 comjiaHsion on a Mai;<lalene, uh woll as on Martha an<l 
 Mary, and was fairly frantic to think that Jk-t^y lia<i 
 so dis'^raeed hersolt" in lier imaj^ination. 
 
 In this state of things I attempted to reason the 
 case with her, but to no jjiirpose. I finally 8ai<l, 
 •Motlier, did you not desire me to get Betsy con- 
 verted?" 
 
 "Yes. but I didn't tiniik you W(nild.'' 
 
 "Why, didn't you mean what you said?" 
 
 "Yes, but I don't want her to be a Methodist." 
 
 "But you consented that she might be, if she would 
 only be a Christian." 
 
 "I know 1 did; but she so disgraced lin-sflf )>y 
 being down on the ground with that girl." 
 
 "But, mother, there were }irobably two hundred 
 people in the ring, and Betsy was on the opposite side 
 of it from her, and h:id no connection, whatever, with 
 her, more than she and you have often had, by sitting 
 in the cliurch where she was. And, further, she was not 
 on the ground otherwise tlian by standing and kneel- 
 ing. She did not fall and lie helpless." 
 
 "O! I thought she did." 
 
 " l^ut, mother, do you not believe that God fore- 
 ordained whatsoever comes to pass?" 
 
 "Yes; certainly I do." 
 
 "Well, do you believe that God would fore-ordain 
 or decree any thing to be, contrju*}' to his will?" 
 
 "No; certainly not." 
 
 "Well, it has come to ])ass that 1 and Betsy are 
 Methodists, and according to your views, it was so fore- 
 ordaine(i or diM-rccd. and in accordance with the Divine 
 will. Now. will you oj>])osc the will of God?" 
 
 Wi'll. 1 know." saii<l she. -thai 1 am n«»t submis.sive 
 «nough to the will of (ind. I would ratlur it had been 
 otherwise, but if it must be so, it must; and I'll try to 
 submit to it, the best 1 can." And she did so, leaving us
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 85 
 
 to enjoy ourselves as l>est we could. I have reason to 
 believe she was thankful that it was so, before she died. 
 
 But there was another trial for Betsy to come off 
 that night. A rally was made by the elite and jolly 
 youths, her former associates, to make a desperate 
 effort to get her to play her old part in the amuse- 
 ments of the circle. They gathered at my mother's to 
 accomplish their design, knowing that if they could 
 succeed, it would cure her of what they thought and 
 called gloomy Methodism. But they failed in the 
 attempt. 
 
 She received the company with her usual courtesy, 
 and treated them with politeness, but without a smile. 
 Her spirit was too deeply wounded to trifle, and espe- 
 cially at such a critical moment, for she felt that her 
 eternal interests hung upon the events of that hour. 
 
 They proposed different plays, such as she formerly 
 delighted in, and in which she used to take an active 
 lead, but to no purpose. To help her in this critical 
 moment, I commenced and carried on a religious con- 
 versation, rather in the form of an exhortation. To 
 ward off this, some of them began to controvert my 
 doctrine, and rather than fail in thwarting their pur- 
 pose, I argued the points with them. 
 
 At an early hour they all left, and as they were 
 ])assing through the front yard to the gate, I heard one 
 of them say, "Well, Betsy's gone; Alfred has got her 
 fast enough." This ended all their efforts to pervert 
 her from the service of God. Those very persons, some 
 of whom were afterward converted to God, commended 
 her, after the first excitement was over, for her integ- 
 rity, and averred that her faithfulness in her religious 
 course was an honor to her and the cause of God, and 
 contributed greatly to assuage their prejudices, and 
 lead them to seek religion. 
 
 She, also, was betrothed at the time, and was
 
 86 A WKSTKKN PIONKliK. 
 
 threatened with abundoninont, as wuh the youn^ hidy 
 at Osbon's, but she gave the same answer, whicli was 
 followed by similar rcgretd on his part, and similar 
 attendance at meeting to gratify his eyes l>y a pight of 
 her. But as he did not embrace religion, as did the 
 other, she would never countenance hiui afterward. 
 She said that "a tyrant at the threshold would be a 
 devil in the house, and she would keep clear of trouble 
 while she was out of it, if she could.' 
 
 Jn November following, 1810, Betsy was yet groan- 
 ing to be set free from her sins. She had endured all 
 the ])ersecutions and opprobrium then lavished ujntn 
 Methodists, fur over two months, without the comlnrls 
 of religion. She was impelled forward only by a sense 
 of her guilt and danger. But I wrote her to meet me 
 at Itcading at the quarterly-meeting, and she did so. 
 
 The meeting was held in the old town-house, our 
 ])lace of worship at this time, in that town. On Sun- 
 day morning in the love-feast, she ro.^e nnd related 
 the state of her mind and the distress of her soul on 
 account of unpardoned sin. :md asked the ]»rayers of 
 God's peo))le in her l)chalf. It was so unusual then for 
 a penitent thus to speak in love-feast, that it attractoil 
 general attention, and all ej'es were turned toward her, 
 and all hearts and many voices were raised to heaven 
 in her behalf 13efore she had done speaking the 
 answer came; and she fell back into a good sister's 
 arms, and in a frw niomcnls v.as liajtiiy in (lod. 
 
 She Mibsc(iui'ntly married liartholomew Wei-d, who 
 was allerward a member oi" the Philadelphia Confer- 
 ence, and afterward removed to Wisconsin, and settled 
 in Plattville, where she died in peace, in 1841. Brother 
 Weed is now a member of the Newark Conference. 
 
 Heading circuit in those days extended from Stam- 
 ford to Stratford along the Sound, and back into the 
 country to Heading, Danbury, Ridgefield, New Canaan,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 87 
 
 etc., with all the intermediate places where they would 
 I'eceive Methodist preaching. At Canaan we had a 
 small church on a side-hill. The front door was near 
 the level of the ground, while the back or pulpit end 
 was several feet high, standing on columns. In those 
 days some people thought it smart in them to get into 
 our love-feasts or class-meetings by stealth or force, to 
 see what wns going on, believing from reports that it 
 was some devilment, of course, to make Methodists so 
 rapidly ns they were increasing in the country; and 
 the idea of a meeting with doors closed against out- 
 siders, se<}med to confirm this vain imagination. 
 
 At a quarterly-meeting held in this place, as was 
 usual, three good stout men were placed at the door 
 to keep the rowdies out of the love-feast. But one 
 bravado declared to his comrades his intention to go 
 in and see what was done, if he had to fight for it; so 
 he forced his way past the door-kee2)ers, who, seeing 
 the devil in him, yielded, rather than have a fight. 
 
 This rowdy went to the pulpit end and took a seat 
 by an open window, his comrades outside watching to 
 see what would be the result. The peoj^le gathered in 
 thick and fast, and he was soon hemmed in on both 
 sides by the devout worshipers, and shortly the house 
 was full, the door was closed and barred inside, and the 
 three men stood with their backs against it. 
 
 In the mean time the exercises began with singing 
 and prayer. G-reat power was manifested from the 
 throne above, and some were shouting and clapping 
 their hands, some were jumping, and others falling to 
 the floor. This rowdy had never seen or heard the 
 like before, and he became alarmed. Strange feelings 
 came over him, and he began to think of an escape. 
 He looked at the door, but there was t!!e bar, and 
 the three men; he looked out of the window, and 
 the ground seemed fearfully distant. But his fright
 
 88 A WKSTKKN TIONKEK. 
 
 Increased as tlie inHide of the house ^vaw warmer, and 
 tl>e falliiii; and shouting more frequent, and ho became 
 frantic. At that moment one of the jumpers fell across 
 !u8 lap, and he rose, and with one l)ound went head 
 foremost out of the window, leaving his hat behind, 
 and liijliting un the irround somr ten or twelve feet 
 from the window. When the r()W<lies outside saw him 
 falling to the ground, they exclaimed, "There, they've 
 cast out the devij." Some one threw liis hat out to 
 him, which he took up. and made tracks for wl»at was 
 to his idea, a safer place. 
 
 In my case a grave (iucstion arose, or rather some 
 made so much of it as to give it that character, as to 
 the rights, powx»rs. j>rivileges, and prerogatives of an 
 exhorter, and the line of demarkation between ex- 
 horting and preaching. I could not exhort without 
 some foundation to base ni}- remarks upon; and hence, 
 would directly or indirectly get in a text. This, by 
 some, was called preaching, which 1 had no right to 
 do without license. 
 
 To talk without something to talk about, or some- 
 tiiiug to start an idea or thought from, aj)peared to me 
 like building a j>igeon house on a pole. 1 was told that 
 I had the whole Hii»Ie before me to talk from. This 
 was true. Ihit to talk helter-skelter on all the topics 
 in the liible, was too much like some ])reaehing I have 
 hi-ard, beginning in the middle and leaving otV at each 
 end. To take up and explain any one toi)ic or point 
 found in the Bible, is to take a text. To aim at every 
 thing in general, but no4hing in jjarticular, did not 
 suit my taste; and if exhorting is a stei)j)ing-stone to 
 preaching, or if the Church must have some evidence 
 of gift for preaching in a candidate, before it can ap- 
 jirove of Irfin as being called to that work, how is he to 
 evince this but by using a text in some way in his 
 exhortations?
 
 REV. ALFRED BRU>::fO". 89 
 
 My gifts, whatever they may be, are for textual 
 preaching — to take a text, and explain it. Topical 
 preaching and exhortation are so nearly allied as to 
 be inseparable. After much discussion with preachers 
 and people, the grave conclusion was, that an exhorter 
 might steal a text. That is, he had no right to sing and 
 pray and take a text, giving book, chapter, and verse : 
 but might, after singing and prayer, begin to introduce 
 a subject, and bring in a text that he wished to ex- 
 plain, but not tell where it could be found. He must 
 not divide it into heads and points, but might, topical 
 fashion, take up one at a time, till he gets through the 
 heads and points of it. This looked like "whij)ping 
 the devil round the stump;" but it being the law, I 
 had to abide by it. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 IN reading the Bible, and the history of the old proph- 
 ets and patriarchs, no one seemed to excite my 
 sympathy so much as Jeremiah. My soul seemed to 
 enter deeply into his sufferings and trials; and in con- 
 templating them, I thought of the great reward that 
 awaited him in heaven. As a child, in the simj)licity 
 of my soul, and without weighing or thinking of the 
 consequences, but, like. Moses, -'having respect to the 
 recompense of reward," I thought I would rather be 
 like him in suffering and trials, than any other of his 
 class that I read of, so that I might receive the reward 
 that I presumed he must have attained to. But I lit- 
 tle thought that I should come so near him as I have 
 in trials of the mind. I have not been imprisoned as 
 he was. But I could not have suffered more in mind, 
 if I had been ; and from the hinderances, discourage- 
 
 8
 
 90 A WKSTKRN PIONEER. 
 
 niems, ropulscs. and Muffing off, that I have mot with, 
 I deem it not arroi^aiico to think and say that my ex- 
 perienee phices me, in a hnv Bcale, in tlie elasH to which 
 tliat propliet belongs. And when 1 get to heaven, as 
 I expect to do, I think I shall look up Jeremiah, and 
 join him in praising God for Bustaining grace in the 
 trials of this life. 
 
 1 had by this time learned that most of our preach- 
 ers had been once or more backslidden from (iod be- 
 cause they disobeyed, like Jonah, the call of God to 
 the ministry. And when I heard tluni tell of the risks 
 which they ran of utter ruin; of the heavy chastening 
 providences that fell upon them before they would 
 yield to obey God, 1 felt thankful that 1 had 'never 
 been disobedient to the heavenly vision " in this mat- 
 ter, but yielded at once to do what God had enjoined 
 upon me. 
 
 But this Willingness to do my duty was construed 
 into forwardness and the offspring of self-conceit ; this, 
 too, by those very men who had been rebellious, had 
 been chastised for it, and now professed great regrets that 
 they had not, like Paul, obeyed -'the heavenly vision." 
 Alas, for poor human nature; to condemn one for doing 
 just what they ouyht to have done, and what they now 
 profess deeply to regret that they did not do! But 
 they felt it to be their duty to check and curb me. lest, 
 as they thought, I should run too fast. I do not say 
 that there was no danger of too fast running, in one of 
 my natural temperament. But I think there is a differ- 
 ence between gently curbing the spirited steed, and 
 knocking him down; between curing and killing. 
 
 In the Fall of 1810. Nathan Emery being on the cir- 
 cuit, a young man by the name of Wakeman Penfield, 
 one of our neighbors, being on a visit to (ireen's farms, 
 was induce<l to luar I'jih rv. *>\\ this wisf. and with the 
 following results :
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 91 
 
 Young Penfield had not been at the farms for a year 
 or so ; in which time a gracious revival of religion had 
 occurred, and a large class of ^lethodists had grown 
 up. embracing many of his old acquaintances. ]^ot 
 knowing of this, and expecting to meet the young peo- 
 ple in youthful glee, on seeing a young man going 
 past the door where he had stopped, he inquired where 
 he was going to spend the evening. 
 
 "I am going to meeting." 
 
 "Meeting! what meeting?' 
 
 "Why, Methodist meeting." 
 
 "Well, I'll go too, for I never heard a Methodist in 
 my life." 
 
 " Well, come along." He did so, and was awakened. 
 This changed the tone of his feelings, and changed all 
 his purposes of amusement. He followed the jn'eacher 
 the next night to Osbon's, at Greenfield, and the next 
 da}' being Saturday, he went home, and Sunday morn- 
 ing went to Lee's Chapel, to hear Emery again, and 
 invited liim to visit his mother and famil}' on Monda}', 
 liis fatlier being absent while on his way to Wells's for 
 that night, where I first met with him. 
 
 Penfield had told his mother and sisters of the 
 expected visit from the Methodist preacher on Monda}^, 
 and of his own awakening, and determination to seek 
 religion. All the famih' treated the matter respect- 
 fully except one sister of thirteen, who rigged herself out 
 in the most gorgeous style she could, with curls, ribbons, 
 and ruffles, and went tiddling-diddling about the house, 
 as if possessed. And every time she met her brother, 
 she inquired about his Methodist priest. As soon as 
 the preacher appeared her countenance fell; his ajDpear- 
 ance seemed to strike her under conviction ; and as 
 soon as possible, after the introduction, she slipped 
 awa}' to her room and laid aside her ribbons and ruf- 
 fles, and combed back her curls, and returned to the
 
 92 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 r<x)in UH grave and seriouH as was Iut biolher. Sho 
 UiK'W nothing of Methodism tlien, or of its rulcR and 
 usages; but tho Good Spirit that liad reached hoj- lietirt 
 lod Iier to this plainness of apj)arel. 
 
 Superfluities in <lres8 were tlien unknown among 
 ^lelhodists, and tliey could be known by tlieir dress as 
 f:ir as tliey could be seen, as easily as Quakei*s. It was 
 a common occurrence, as in this case, for a convicted 
 sinner to throw off all golden ornaments, ribbons and 
 ruffles, and comb back her curls as soon as conviction 
 of sin reached the heart. So true it is, in the language 
 of our General Rules, after requiring the laying aside of 
 all these things: -'All these [rules] we know his Sj)irit 
 writes on truly awakened hearts.' 'JMie j)rea<lier talked 
 to all the family, and prayed with them, and ailer 
 dill nor left them for his appointment. 
 
 That night Wakeman and his sister were at our 
 meeting at AVells's, and made themselves known as 
 })enitents, seeking the Savior. Though they lived 
 within three miles of our j)lace of meeting, none of the 
 family had ever been there, nor to a Methodist meeting 
 anywhere, until the Thursday niglit ])rcvious, as above 
 slated. 
 
 Like most true ])eni tents of those times, young 
 Penfiehl was in earnest, atid sought all the lielps he 
 eonhl to aid and strengthen him in the jmrsuit of sal- 
 vation. To this end he invited me to visit him and 
 th.' lamily the ensuing Saturday night. He met me on 
 tlu! road, and informed me that the people were u]> in 
 arms at the change^ that had come over the family. 
 No concern ha<l been manifested for them while they 
 were all going on in sin; but now there was great 
 alarm lest they should be deceived by the Methodists. 
 His mother had been visited \)\' some of the sedate 
 "slainling order." as the ( 'ongregationalists were then 
 culled in Now England, who told her that tho Methodists
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 93 
 
 Avere the deceivers of the last times, and would, if 
 possible, deceive the very elect; tiiat they were even 
 worse and more dangerous tiian the Universalists. 
 Her mind had become so excited with alarm that she 
 had forbid his sisters going to Methodist meetings till 
 their father came home, wiien lie could do as he pleased 
 in the matter. He also informed me of the points of 
 doctrine that had been laid to our charge, such as 
 going to heaven by our own works, etc. 
 
 The family received me courteously, and we were 
 soon seated and in conversation on Methodism. I ex- 
 plained, as well as I could, our doctrines, showing how 
 and wherein they differed from Calvinism and Univer- 
 salism, and especially repudiating the false doctrines that 
 were laid to our charge. But I dwelt mostly on ex- 
 perimental religion, its nature, its necessity, its comforts 
 and happiness, and the means instituted of God for its 
 attainment, especially /«iY/i, instead of works; showing, 
 however, that works of obedience were evidence of, and 
 sprang from faith. Mrs. Penfield stated frankly all 
 the points that had troubled her mind, which I was 
 enabled so to explain as to remove all her difficulties. 
 The next morning she consented that all, her two sons 
 and three daughters, might go to meeting, and at night 
 she came herself, and both she and her five children 
 were soon converted to God and made happj^ in his love. 
 
 Some two or three weeks after this interview — 
 which had been weekly renewed at their request — at 
 our Sunday night meeting, I felt my mind drawn out 
 particularly to exhort old gray-headed sinners. I felt 
 the delicacy of such a course in one so young, and 
 apologized to the aged for so doing; but assured them 
 that I felt drawn out by the Good Spirit, and if God 
 perfected praise b}^ the mouths of babes and sucklings, 
 it might be that if I held my peace the stones would 
 cry out against me. At the close of the meeting young
 
 94 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Penfield inlrodiicod me to his lather. At a glance 1 
 saw his ^ray haii-n, and a tremor passed over me, a.** 
 I thought of m}' cxhorUilion ; doubting whether or not 
 I liad given offense. But in this, as in thou.'^ands of 
 other ca.se8, the motto proved to bo true, " Sj>eak the 
 Irutli boMly, and leave consequences willi God;" ior 
 wliile he had yet hohi of my hand, tlic tear starting 
 from liis eyes, he said : "I am one of those gray-headed 
 sinners you liave been talking to. I got home this 
 morning after the children had gone to meeting, and 
 was glad to hear what God is doing for my family, and 
 hope I shall share with them in the blessings of the 
 Lord. I intend to try. This is the lirst Methodist 
 meeting I ever attended, and must say that I believe 
 God is with you, for I feel it." I never had such sen- 
 sations of mind; I felt humbled to think that God had 
 made use of me for such good ; and I rejoiced in my 
 soul to see sinners coming home to God. He invited 
 me to continue m}- visits to his family, and finally to 
 appoint a meeting at his ln>use. 
 
 The time had run on through the Winlir, and a 
 gracious work of God had added about thirty to our 
 class; atid in the Spring of 1811 brother Penfield re- 
 quested me to appoint a meeting at his house. 1 did 
 80. The news of this flew over the country, and some 
 of our good ^fethodist brethren were alarmed lest the 
 boy should fail to sustain the honor of Methodism at 
 this advanced post ol' our Zion. 
 
 That, the reas(Mi for these fears may l»e understood, 
 it is proper to state that brother Penfield's house was 
 some three miles in advance toward the old town of 
 Fairfield, into which Methodism had not yet gained a 
 fnothold, though we were jiathering round it. High 
 prejudices existed against us there, and the brethren 
 feared that if 1 niade a lailure, those prejudiees would 
 be stronger.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 95 
 
 It SO happened that Oliver Sykes and another 
 preacher, on their way to Conference in New York, 
 called for the night at a brother's in vStratford. The 
 good brother, in his zeal for the honor of our cause, 
 induced the two preachers, after tea, to ride seven miles 
 to Penfield's, to preach, and if not invited to stay all 
 night, to return, and retrace the seven miles the next 
 morning, on their way to jS^ew York. Of course, I was 
 glad to see them and hear them. 
 
 Brother Sykes preached an excellent sermon, and 
 his traveling companion gave a rousing exhortation, 
 and the people seemed to be edified, and well pleased; 
 many of them having never heard a Methodist before. 
 The preachers were invited to stay for the night, and 
 the occurrence was the means of great good to the 
 family. Brother Penfield often said to me, afterward, 
 quoting our Lord's words to his disciples, when they 
 went out on their first mission, "If the son of peace be 
 there, your peace shall abide upon the house;" "and," 
 he said, "the son of peace evidently abode upon his 
 house from that time, and, indeed, from the beginning 
 of this work." 
 
 The usual hue and cry was raised about Penfield's 
 being " eaten out of house and home " by the Methodists; 
 this, too, by persons who had made their visits to his 
 house more expensive than the Methodists did. After 
 about a year, I asked him what effect his embracing re- 
 ligion had had upon his temporal affairs. He said it had 
 been favorable. "I have," said he, " a good deal of com- 
 jDany, but it is less expensive than the company I had be- 
 fore. My situation, as you see, is beautiful ; from my door 
 I can see Long Island Sound, the beautiful landscapes on 
 the lower lands toward the Sound, and parts of Fair- 
 field, and Black Pock, and Bridgeport; and the gentr}^ 
 of those towns, and especially Fairfield, frequently rode 
 up the hill to sec me and my family, to get a view of
 
 96 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 the Bconei*}' bofbrc us, and take tea. Scarcely a week 
 j)asse(l without one or more such visits occurrintj. and 
 the table must be spread suitably to their and my po- 
 sition in society. But when tiie Methodists came, these 
 exjHMisive visitors desisted ; and our Methodist friends 
 are content with our common fare, and being no more 
 in number, but less expensive, I have made more money 
 in the past 3ear than in an}' i)revi(>us one." 
 
 About this time I heard of an occurrence on Long 
 Island, illustrative of this eating of Methodists out ot 
 house and home. A man was converted, and joined 
 the Methodists, and opened his house for preaching, 
 where (he Methodists ])ut up when g^nng to and from 
 camp or quarterly meetings — culled, in those days, "a 
 Metln)dist tavern." The father of this good brother 
 often uj)bruidcd him for this course, averring that he 
 would soon be eaten out of liouse and home, and would 
 have to come back and work some part of his farm 
 uj)on shares, to get a living. 
 
 The son replied, " O, no, father. I tiiink not ; I do not 
 see any diminution of my means, but rather an increase." 
 
 Things went on in this way for a year or two, 
 when, one Spring, the father said to the son, "I don't 
 know what I shall do for ha}*, to bring my stock 
 through to grass-time. ' 
 
 '•Why, father, how much will you want?' 
 
 •'I shall need a ton, at least." 
 
 •' Well, father, I think I can spare that amount, and, 
 it may be, more." 
 
 "Why, how is that? You have no more meadows 
 than I have, and you have as many cattle, and, besides 
 that, a great deal of company, llow comes it that you 
 have hay to spare? " 
 
 • Why, father, the Methodist j>reachers come to my 
 house with their horses; they make manure; I put that 
 on the land, and that makes (he grass grow. '
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 97 
 
 This put an end to the father's fears as to his son's 
 coming to want on that score. 
 
 I knew, also, a good brother Hill, in Heading, who 
 was left with a large estate, by his father, but had run 
 through with it all but about four hundred dollars, by 
 high living and sporting. He was converted, and be- 
 came a new man and pursued a new course of life. 
 He became industrious and economical, yet liberal in 
 the support of the Gospel. At quarterlj'-meetings, his 
 rule was to let all the other brethren take home with 
 them as many friends as they could accommodate, and 
 then he would saj^ to all that were left, "Follow me." 
 I have stayed at his house, at such meetings, when he 
 had forty guests to care for; yet, in four years' time, 
 he had paid off all the debts he had contracted when 
 in sin; had added to his real estate, and had an income 
 from his business of some eight hundred dollars per 
 annum, over and above family expenses. 
 
 In the Sjiring of 1.811 I felt it to be my duty to give 
 myself entirely to the work to which God had called 
 me. 1 was aware of my youth, being only eighteen 
 years of age. I was also aware of my want of more 
 knowledge, wisdom, and experience; but, if received, I 
 expected to be sent to fields suitable to my case; and, 
 having a thirst for reading, and being of studious hab- 
 its, I thought I could gain in knowledge, as others had 
 done before me. But, aside from every other consider- 
 ation, there was a conviction that I should go. 
 
 In this state of feeling I had no other thought than 
 if God called, my brethren would aid me in the matter. 
 I applied to Nathan Emery, the preacher in charge, to 
 take the necessary steps for me to join the Conference. 
 But, instead of meeting with fatherly advice and coun- 
 sel, if I was too fast, as alleged, I met with a positive 
 rebuff, embraced in the word " No. You are too young; 
 the Conference won't have you !"
 
 98 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 1 did suppose tluit willini^ness to do li duty enjoined 
 Avas connnendable, and that, tlioiii^li it miglit need 
 the i^aiidaiiee of a skillful and lalherly hand, godly 
 counsel would put the thing in a right train. But 
 bluffing off Ji youth whose whole soul was devoted to 
 God, and who had given up high and ambitious worldly 
 projects, to lead a life of privation and toil for the sake 
 of Christ, and the salvation of souls, was entirely unex- 
 pected, and unlooked for. Jeremiah could not have 
 felt worse when rejected by the priests and people of 
 Israel, nor when in i)rison. 
 
 Th"e result was, that before 1 was aware of it, dis- 
 couragement settled down in my heart; I lost the evi- 
 dence of perfect love, and doubts occurred as to my call 
 to the ministry; and had not that call been accomi)a- 
 nied by circumstances so extraordinary, so near mirac- 
 ulous, I should have given it up, if not religion, too. 
 1 turned my thoughts toward the former project of life, 
 the law, but darkness, thick darkness, rested upon it; 
 and, as "hope deferred makes the heart sick," I was on 
 the verge of despair. 
 
 I was told that "the spirits of the prophets were 
 subject to the prophets." When the prophets enjoined 
 silence upon Jeremiah, he still prophesied ; and it ap- 
 ])eared to me that the prophets should act in accordance 
 with the Divine call, or Divine will, or such subjection 
 should not be required ; but in this case, one of us, at 
 least, must have deviated from the Divine will; and 
 whether it was myself or not, the weaker had to sulnnit 
 to the stronger, and I must give up all hope of getting 
 into the itinerancy very soon, if I ever should. 
 
 I had not the vanity to think that I could go alone, 
 or without the Church. Nor could I think of chang- 
 ing my Church relationshij>. 1 was then, and still am, 
 a Methodist, and could be nothing else. If I preached 
 at all, it must be as a Methodist, and must wait till the
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 99 
 
 way opened for me in the Church in which I was con- 
 verted and called of God. But seeing no prospects of 
 such opening for years to come, nor receiving any com- 
 fort or encouragement from the preachers, I gave up 
 all hope in that direction, and laid my plans for busi- 
 ness of a worldly nature. As the nature of my business, 
 my trade, required a heli)meet, I married, August 26, 
 1811, Eunice Burr, daughter of Jesse and Sarah Burr, 
 of that part of Fairfield, Conn., which fell into Strat- 
 field parish, near Bridgeport. She was a third or fourth 
 cousin of Aaron Burr ; but owing to the course he pur- 
 sued, in his treasonable enterprise, I never inquired 
 into the exact relationship, not caring to own it. She 
 was converted through my instrumentality, previous to 
 our marriage. 
 
 But this step brought down the brakes upon the 
 wheels of my car stronger than ever. Married men, 
 in those days, received no favor in the itinerancy. Xo 
 young man was allowed to marry under four j^ears after 
 he was received on trial in the itinerancy, without cen- 
 sure; and if he did so within the first two years, the 
 term of his probation, he was discontinued without 
 ceremony. 
 
 I entered into business to make stock -work for the 
 New York market; but was doomed to be thwarted 
 in this. Trouble with England had been brewing for 
 some time, and commerce and trade on the high seas 
 were greatly retarded by the frequent capture of our 
 vessels, and the impressment of our seamen ; and, pre- 
 paratory for "the ulterior resort of kings," an em- 
 bargo was laid on all shipping in the United States, 
 to prevent its falling into the hands of the enemy in 
 case of war. This was followed, June 18, 1812, by a 
 declaration of war against Great Britain and her de- 
 pendencies. 
 
 Our Lord said, " Seek first the kingdom of God and
 
 lOU A WKSIKKN IMONKKK. 
 
 liis ri^htooiisiK'ss, and all thcRO thingn [moaning food 
 and raiment] shall be added unto you," This promise 
 I had understood in the literal sense, and mvHC'it' and 
 wife having sought this kingdom, we took it lor granted 
 that our industry and economy would insure the other. 
 But the war destroyed my business, and things looked 
 extremely gloomy, as to the means of a living. Being 
 a sailor in my boyhood, I concluded to try the naval 
 service in defense of my country, and was on the eve 
 of starting to New York for that purpose. 
 
 But just then an opening appeared before me to 
 move to the West, and I embraced it, as providential. 
 The month of October, 1812, found me in Fowler, Trum- 
 bull county, Ohio, settled on a piece of heavily timbered 
 land, out of which I was to procure a living. This 
 was rather a gloomy prospect. But with a strong res- 
 olution I went to work. It was necessary for me to 
 work at my trade part of the time, to get means to 
 sustain me while clearing the land, and 1 did so. 
 
 The distance from Bridgeport, Connecticut, to the 
 place of ni}' settlement, was about six hundred miles. 
 Our mode of travel was of the antiquated style ; in 
 a wagon, carrying our own clothing, bedding, and 
 ])rovisions, and cogking for ourselves, and sjjreading 
 our bods on the floor of the tavern or other house at 
 which we might stop for the night. AVe took a ditler- 
 ent route from that usually traveled, to shorten the dis- 
 tance, and obtain cheaper faro; but we had a worse 
 road, the most of the way. We passed through New 
 York city, Kaston, Ik'rwick, Youngman's Town, Blair's 
 (iaj) in the Alleghanies, Kittaning, and Mercer, in 
 Pennsylvania, entering Ohio in about six miles from our 
 new home. We were three weeks on the journey ; up- 
 set once, and stuck in the mud several times, but 
 finally got through safe and well. 
 
 As I was about to leave Connecticut, a good sister
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 101 
 
 said to me : " Yoii have need of a great deal of religion, 
 in going to a new country." 
 
 " \Yhy shall I need more there than here?' I in- 
 quired. 
 
 "Why, you will have new trials; many and great 
 privations ; less religious privileges ; new scenes to at- 
 tract, and new enterprises to engage your attention : 
 all of which will so engross your thoughts and atten- 
 tion, that unless you watch and pray much, you will 
 find yourself involved in cares, perplexities, and troub- 
 les, and on the background in religion, if you don't 
 entirely backslide." All which I found to be true, not 
 only in myself— though I did not entirely backslide 
 as did thousands of others, who went entirely by the 
 board, in the vast West. 
 
 In a few days after our arrival, a good brother, 
 hearing of the arrival of a Methodist family, did as all 
 good people ought to do, came to see me, and informed 
 me of the places of preaching, and oftered, on the en- 
 suing Sabbath, to come out of his way to guide us to 
 the place of worship. This place was six miles off. and 
 we gladly embraced the kind offer, and went to hear 
 the Rev. James M'Mahon, who, with his brother John, 
 then rode the circuit; a six weeks' circuit with preach- 
 ing once in three weeks at each place, by one of them. 
 But the class to which our friend belonged, was Brook- 
 field, six miles from us in another direction; to this 
 we j)i'6sented our certificates, and became members. 
 We soon disposed of our horses, and had to travel this 
 distance on foot, every Sabbath, to prayer-meetings 
 and class, and for preaching on week-days. The next 
 season, having a babe, Ave carried it in our arms, on 
 foot, the six miles and back, and were glad thus to 
 have the privilege of worshiping God, even in a log- 
 cabin. 
 
 This circuit then embraced (1812) all of the Con-
 
 102 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 nectieut 'SVestorn Reserve, east of the Cuyahoga Rivtr 
 that was sot tied. 
 
 James M'Mahou was a man of hi^li standing, in 
 l)<)int of talent, an al»lc' preaeher, very gentlemanly in 
 liis manner, and very much respected. But John, 
 though of superior pulpit powers, was the exact oppo- 
 site of James in all other j)artieulars. ITis eccentricities 
 though they aj)peared to he natural, were api»arently 
 indulged in, which led him into gross imj)roprietie8, 
 which was an injury to our cause among the sedate 
 and grave Yankees. 
 
 He was a hypochondriac of the deepest dye. At one 
 time, at Hudson, on his circuit, he imagined he was 
 dying, and wanted brother Ciailord. with whom he 
 lodged, to send acro.ss the circuit, some sixty miles, for 
 his brother James to come and preach his funeral ser- 
 mon; alleging that if the messenger did not go then, 
 he could not possibly get James there in time, as he 
 should not, at the farthest, live longer than the next 
 day, and should probably die before night. 
 
 But Gailord, knowing his notions in such ca.ses, 
 declined to send, assuring him that he wouhl be well 
 enough the next day. Upon this he upbraided Gai- 
 lord with being cruel and hard-hearted, unchristian 
 and inhuman. But if he wouhl-not do that much for 
 him, he wished him to send for a doctor. But this, 
 also, was declined, when another tirade of hard names 
 came down upon him, for letting a man die in his 
 house, and refusing even to send tor a doctor. 
 
 To appease him they sent a boy for the doctor. t)r, 
 at least, so alleged. In the nuaii tinn'. John was walk 
 ing the floor, feeling his pulse, and gazing in the glass, 
 at his j)alr face. But casting his eyes out of the win- 
 dow. In- saw the boy playing with some others on the 
 public scjuare. when he exclaimed, "There, that boy has 
 gone to play, and is not going for the doctor at all,"
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 103 
 
 and feeling his indignation rise, said he would go him- 
 self, and suiting the action to the word, he took his 
 hat and started on a run. By the time he reached 
 the boys, his blood was in good motion, and like the 
 boy, also, he stopped and went to play with them. 
 
 In the same year he was at Isaac Powers', in 
 Youngstown, when a fit of this horrible disease came 
 upon him. He could not eat, and got tlie good sister to 
 spread a bed for him on the floor before the tire. In the 
 morning when Powers got up to make a fire, he ordered 
 John to get up, and not be lying there like a dog. He 
 said this to rouse him, knowing that it would cure him. 
 But John only groaned as if it was his last ; and getting 
 up he seated himself by the jamb of the big old-fash- 
 ioned fire-]5lace, and desired Powers, if he should see 
 any body going toward Poland, the place of his next 
 appointment, to send word that he could not be there, 
 as he was very sick. 
 
 When breakfiist was ready he had not washed, and 
 there was no water up from the spring. Powers took 
 the pail and handed it to John and told him to go down 
 to the spring and wash below it, and bring uj) a pail 
 of water. John turned up his eyes imj^loringly, when 
 Powers put on all the austerity he could, and with a 
 stamp of the foot said, " Go along." This roused John, 
 and he went and did as told, and came back laughing, and 
 said, "Brother Powers, I thank you for that." and being- 
 cured, ate his breakfixst and went to his appointment. 
 
 At another time, at Cadiz, Ohio, he had a fit of the 
 hypochondria come on him, and said he must die. 
 He went through the usual farce of looking in the 
 glass, and lay down, feeling his pulse, etc., when a 
 preacher sitting by his side — every other means having 
 fiailed to rouse him — seeing a marble-yard and tomb- 
 stones across the way, said, " Brother John, if you are 
 really going to die, would n't it be a good idea for you
 
 104 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 to go across the way und select a tombstone, such jis 
 you would like to have at your grave?" The idea 
 was so ludicrous that John burst into a hearty laugh, 
 and sprang to his leet cured, for that time. 
 
 After traveling a poor circuit where he could get 
 Fio clothes, on his way to Conference in mere rags, he 
 (■alle<l at Stcubenville. where he was invited to preach. 
 His tame as a pulpit orator having preceded him, a 
 larire crowd assembled in the court-lxjuse to hear. lie 
 commenced by acting the clown. A gentleman who 
 became disgusted, inquired of one by his side, '-Is that 
 the great M'Mahon ? If so, I have got enough of him ;" 
 and rose to leave. John seeing this, threw off the 
 mask and said, "Stop; 1 have something to tell you." 
 At this, the gentleman resumed his seat, and John 
 gave them such a torrent of eloquence, that all were 
 astonished and delighted. At the close, several gen- 
 tlemen gathered about the door and inquired of a 
 Methodist if those were the best clothes he Had ; "Yea," 
 was the reply, "and all he has. He traveled a poor 
 circuit on the frontier, where the people had nothing 
 to give him." 
 
 "Would he be offended if we shouM give him a 
 suit of clothes?" 
 
 "No, I think not; but would be thankful for them." 
 
 In the mean time, John, seeing the group at the 
 door, and suspecting that he was the subject of con- 
 versation, had left the stand, and got round behind the 
 door to listen, and on hearing the inquir}' about the 
 clothes, spoke out, 'Try mr. und see if I would bo 
 olfendrd." The result was he got the new suit before 
 he left town, and wmt to ronr»'i«'n«o as w«'ll dnssid 
 as his betti'r-jiaid bntiiriii. 
 
 In his freaks he was XL'iy troublesome about his 
 foo<l, and peo))le ma<le loud com])laints. And some- 
 times when hr vnitiind into the kitchen, interfering
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUXSON. 105 
 
 with the rights and prerogatives of the cook, he would 
 leave it with a dishcloth hanging to his coat, behind, 
 on a crooked pin. Sometimes he would take a notion 
 that some particular woman alone could make coifee. 
 or mush, or some other article of food, to suit his taste, 
 and would ride ten or twelve miles across his circuit, 
 and out of his way, and without eating after meeting, 
 to get that woman to prepare for him the savory meal, 
 whatever it might be. 
 
 On one such occasion, he came to a house just at 
 dark, and must have some mush, or Yankee hasty- 
 pudding, made of corn meal. One of the girls went to 
 the spring for water, and it was thought, not in the 
 best humor, and in dipping it up. took in a little spring 
 frog, which went into the pot, and was not discovered 
 till after it came on to the table, with the milk, with 
 which it was to be eaten, nor till he had about done 
 eating. 
 
 At the next Conference a young man of some prom- 
 ise, but who was falling into the same kind of trouble- 
 some whims about food, was reported, in the annual 
 examination of character, as being troublesome about 
 his food ; making people much trouble, of which they 
 complained. At this Bishop M'Kendree said to him, 
 ■What is this I hear about you? Don't you know that 
 you should eat such things as are set before you. ask- 
 ing no questions for conscience' sake?" At this John 
 sprang to his feet. He knew that if the young man 
 got a combing for this habit, he would have to take it 
 next. And if he could tear down the fence far enough 
 for the young man to escape, he could also go out of 
 the same gap; so he exclaimed, "Conscience' sake; 
 conscience' sake! We must eat this, and we must eat 
 that, for conscience' sake! A good woman, the other 
 night, set some mush before me with a frog in it; must 
 1 eat that for conscience' sake?"
 
 TOG A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 This was too mucli -for the risiblen of the Confer- 
 cMice. wlio ])urst into a roar of laughter, and tlie youni; 
 man, and John with him, escaped for that time. Some 
 years alter, while traveling with John from Conference, 
 1 asked him if this story was true: "Yes. " he said, and 
 added that "it was at one of the neatest houses in the 
 State, but it being dark, the girl did not notice it till it 
 was on the table, at which she was as much mortified 
 as I was disappointed in losing my mush." 
 
 There is a moral wrong in giving way to nervous 
 pro.stration, which causes hypochondria to such an 
 extent, or countenancing and cultivating the whims 
 and notions that grow out of it. It so resulted with 
 John. He indulged them even into ill-tempers, till we 
 had to expel him from the ministry and the Church. 
 
 In my new home, and the surrounding country, 1 
 found ample space for a new beginner, to hold meet- 
 ings among the sparse population, and I embraced the 
 opportunity thus offered, and appointed meetings in 
 different places; to and from which I traveled on foot, 
 through the woods, and the mud, oi- snow, as the case 
 might be, to the distance of from tive to twelve miles 
 and back. 1 did this from a sense of duty, and for the 
 sake of my own enjoyment; but afler all, I saw that my 
 enjoyments were declining, as they had done from the 
 time brother Emerv bluffed me off with his gruff '^Yo." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WAS now near the Xorth-Wcst frontier of our coun- 
 - trv. one of the seats of the war. and .within a few 
 days' march of the Indians. The surrender of Detroit, 
 by General Hull, to the British and Indians, had thrown 
 
 I
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 107 
 
 the frontier open to the ravages of a savage war ; and 
 fears were entertained quite generally, by the people, 
 that the enemy would penetrate our sparsely settled 
 country, even as far as to where I had settled. The 
 shore of Lake Erie, west of Cleveland, and for some 
 distance to the south, was entirely deserted by the set- 
 tlers. And I concluded, with many others, that it was 
 better to meet the foe by the side of companions in 
 arms, and led by skillful officers, than to meet him at 
 my own door, single-handed, and that, perhaps, in the 
 night. 
 
 Add to this, from the time brother Emery bluffed 
 me off, about entering the itinerancy, with his gruff 
 "i\^o," my religious ardor was so dampened that my 
 enjoyment was greatly lessened. Having been in the 
 vicinity of IS^ew York when Peirce was killed by the 
 British at Sandy Hook, and when our ship, the Chesa- 
 peake, was fired into by the Leopard, and five of my 
 wife's brothers had been impressed into the British 
 Kavy, and never again got home, my patriotic blood 
 Avas up to fighting heat. And I enlisted for a year in 
 the Twenty-Seventh Eegiment, United States Infantry, 
 having the promise of being made a Sergeant, and being 
 promoted as I might merit and vacancies occurred. 
 But the first time I went to the recruiting rendezvous 
 and saw what kind of company I was to be associated 
 with, conviction, like a clap of thunder, struck my mind 
 that, '' this is not the company Providence designed for 
 you." 
 
 I now saw my position in religious matters. In 
 casting the eye of my mind back, I could see as clearly 
 as daylight, the downward course I had taken from the 
 time of my rebuff by the man of God, to whom I had 
 looked for guidance and assistance. I saw that 1 had 
 erred in entering the army instead of preaching. But 
 I was in for it for a year. I felt morally bound to fulfill
 
 108 A WKSTKRN PIONEER. 
 
 ni}' coniract witli the (lovornment. and I resolved that 
 at the end of my term ot* serviee, if spared, I would 
 return to duty and preach the Gospel of Christ. I ha<l 
 no fears of death in the army, either by the sword, a 
 bullet, or by disease; lor the eonvietion was strongly 
 fixed in my mind that I had to preach, and that God 
 would preserve me to do that work. 
 
 The company wa.s recruited in Warren, Trumbull 
 county, Ohio; and was marched to Cleveland, where it 
 was organized, and I was appointed Orderly Sergeant. 
 From Cleveland we went in open Mackinaw boats 
 loaded with corn, to Lower Sandusky, or Fort Steven- 
 son. I had command ot one of the boats, having four- 
 teen men. 
 
 The terror of the Lake and the coast, at that time, 
 was the (^ueeii Charlotte, and some gun-boats bearing 
 the British flag. Our men were building a fleet at Erie, 
 Penn., but the vessels were not yet ready for service. 
 The British were said to be coasting near Sandusky 
 ]5ay, and of course, every sail seen on the Lake waa 
 of a suspicious character, till her flag was seen. Every 
 American vessel on tlie Lake, large enough to carry a 
 gun, was purchased for the fleet, so that we had nothing 
 afloat on the Lake but small crafts. 
 
 On our way, our captain apprehending no danger, 
 observed no order, but each boat went as fast as it could 
 be proi)elled by the oars. It so happened that I had 
 one of the largest and most heavily loaded boats, and, 
 of course, fell behind, sometimes nearly out of sight of 
 the leading ones. Ofl" Black Kiver a sti'ange craft was 
 seen making in for shore in the rear of the foi \n anl boats, 
 and just ahea<l of mine. We could see no flag, an<l wo 
 suspected that she was an euc-my, intending to cut us 
 off from the rear of the other boats. 
 
 I at once laid my j)lan to take her by a desperate 
 stratagem, and apprised my men, wlio all agreed to act
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSOX. 109 
 
 well their parts. She Avoiikl hail us, of course, and de- 
 mand a surrender, when we would pull the oars for her, 
 as if to give up. This would put them off their guard. 
 Onr arms were loaded, baj'onets fixed, and laid by our 
 sides. I was to take my position in the bow of the boat, 
 a man at my side w^as to jump on board the enemy when 
 I did with our bow-rope, and tie our boat, w^hile I de- 
 fended him; and my other men were to follow as quick 
 as possible, and we were to clear the deck by balls and 
 bayonets before they could bring their big gun to bear 
 upon us. But our bravery was not tested, for we soon 
 saw the stars and stripes of the little schooner, which 
 we found to be a trading craft, bound from Cleveland to 
 Sandusky, and which accompanied us to that place. 
 
 In navigating this lake in open boats it was neces- 
 sary to find a harbor every night; and there being no 
 artificial ones at this time, the only harbors on our 
 route were the mouths of the rivers; and whether we 
 could get our boats into them or not, depended upon the 
 stage of the water in the rivers. When they were low, 
 the surf of the lake would close uj) their mouths with 
 sand, and when the rivers rose so as to cause a cur- 
 rent into the lake, the sand would be washed away. It 
 so happened that this was a wet season, and the rivers 
 were so high as to keep the harbors open. 
 
 While at the mouth of Huron River a gale of wind 
 sprung up, and we were detained there several da3's. 
 AVe were now^ within ten miles of the entrance of San- 
 dusky Bay, near to which a battle had been fought 
 with the Indians, and our men badly w^hipped. We 
 Avere aware that another expedition from Maiden was 
 about to visit our coast; but as the captain took no 
 measures to send out a scout to ascertain whether the 
 coast was clear or not; and, being tired of being idle, I 
 solicited and obtained the ])rivilege of going with four- 
 teen volunteers to the outlet of the bay. We found the
 
 110 A wi:sti:kn imonkkk. 
 
 grave of one of IIull's men wlio l>ad died on lii> way 
 home, after being basely sold by that officer. This 
 fired our blood for a fight, if we should find the enemy; 
 but finding no signs of him, we returned. 
 
 The wind dying away in the night, wu iefl Huron 
 and reache«l the bay at daybreak. On our way we 
 saw tlie moon rising out of the hike, ver}' red, and, at 
 first siglit, having the appearance of fire. Tliis we 
 supposed must be on tlie Queen Charlotte, which we 
 understood was on the lookout for us. Accordingly we 
 made preparations for a hot time of it with her boats; 
 but the fright was soon over, as the rising of that orb 
 showed what it was. These little incidents were of 
 small importance only, but they served to introduce 
 men to the war, and prepare them for more serious 
 events. 
 
 Just inside the bay we stopj)ed to get our breakfa.«;t. 
 Here again we had a little further introduction to sol- 
 dier's fare. We drew our pork and flour, but we had no 
 camj) equij)age, not having yet reached our regiment. 
 We kindled fires of drift-wood found on the beach. We 
 took the flour, some on ])ieces of bark, and some in dirty 
 pocket handkerchiefs. U we had cups, we ladleil the 
 water from the bay into the flour, and those who had no 
 cups lifted the watci* with theii* two hands so arranged 
 as to form a cup. Tl»e flour thus wet, without salt, 
 yeast, or shortening, was baked, some on pieces of hark 
 before the fire, hoe-cake or johnny-c.iko fashion ; and 
 some removed the fire and put the dough into the hot 
 sand, wrapped in leaves or paper, (^ur ])ork we cooked 
 in the blaze of the fire, on the points of sticks. Having 
 a good appetite, I thought the brcsid baked in the hot 
 sand was very sweet, and the ])ork wvy ])nlatabie. 
 
 We reached the mouth of Sandusky liivcr, at the 
 head of the bay, just at night, and took 8Ui)per on the 
 first dry ground we came to. The officers thought it
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. IH 
 
 safer to row all night, or till we readied the fort, 
 eighteen miles further, than to camp and be exposed to 
 an attack fi-om prowling Indians. I obeyed orders, of 
 course, but it was my opinion that we should be miuch 
 more exposed in the boats, and on the river, the sound 
 of the oars giving notice of our whereabouts, than we 
 should in camp, where all was still, and where, with a 
 little work, we could have thrown up some temporary 
 defenses. The river is seldom over one liundred yards 
 wide, and our boats must be within range of muskets 
 and rifles, with, no defenses, while the enemy on the 
 bank, and in the woods, would have all the advantage. 
 But we came safe to the fort about daybreak, and got 
 our breakfa.sts, with some bread from the fort. "We 
 were ordered into the line of march with several other 
 companies for Seneca, ten miles up the Sandusky 
 Eiver. Here, for tlie first time, I saw Greneral Har- 
 rison, then the lion of the North-'West, who marched 
 with us to Seneca. He expected an attack on the 
 way, and gave the necessary orders; but we escaped 
 again. At Seneca we met our regiment, which had 
 come in through the wilderness, and we soon got our 
 clothing, tents, and camp cooking apparatus. Our 
 iruns and a stock of ammunition we received at 
 Cleveland. 
 
 Our camp at Seneca was on the site of the old In- 
 dian village. In it were the Twenty-Seventh, Twent}'- 
 Eighth, and Seventeenth Eegiments; also a squadron 
 of dragoons, in all about two thousand five hundred men. 
 It stood upon the left bank of the Sandusky Eiver, and 
 was fortified by log breastworks, and some earthen 
 embankments, with three block-houses, the river side 
 having none. The block-houses, built of heavy logs, 
 were occupied by the guards, and were in advance of 
 the breastworks several rods. On the north, or down- 
 river side, was a spot clear of timber, which was our
 
 115 A WKSTKRN PIONKKR. 
 
 rlrillinic-<:n)nn(l. but tliiek heavy timber surrounded iis 
 on the other ant^les of the encampment. 
 
 We la}' on our arms for ten nights previous to the 
 battle at Fort Stevenson, and had more or less alarms 
 every night, and some in the day-time. Men passing 
 to and from our camp to others, were frequently killed 
 or wounded b\- the prowling Indians. 
 
 Among the exciting scenes and alarms of these first 
 ten da3'S were some ludicrous ones. The sentinels were 
 to hail once, and if no answer came, to fire. One 
 night a sentinel on the main line, hearing a noise in 
 the brush hailed, then fired, and the next hearing the 
 hail and the gun. was on the alert, and hearing some 
 thing in the brush, hailed and fired almost at the same 
 instant; and so it went along the line till eight or ten 
 guns went off in quick succession. At the sound of the 
 first gun every man in camp sprang to his place at 
 the breastwork, and from hearing so many guns, we 
 expected the onslaught at once; but silence ensued, 
 scouts scoured the ground, and the conclusion was that 
 a deer had caused all the trouble. At another time, 
 under similar circumstances, an ox that had strayed 
 away from the cattle-guard was shot down by the 
 sentinel. 
 
 But the most singular case occui-red in the day-time. 
 The sentinel fired without hailing. It was su])posed 
 the enemy must surely be in sight, and every man was 
 instantly at his post. The drum beat to arms, and all 
 was excitement, expecting now a fight in good earnest. 
 But soon the word '-dismiss" came round; and when 
 the officer of the day and the General himself reachotl 
 the spot, the sentinel saiTl that he saw something black 
 moving through and under some brush, which he 
 thought was an Indian ti-ying to get a shot at him. and 
 lie thought it best and safest to take the first chance 
 himself, and so blazed awa}'. On the Sergeant of the
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 113 
 
 guard going- to the place pointed out, he found a large 
 turke}', and wild turkej'S being nearly black, the General 
 commended the sentinel for his caution, and said he 
 should have the turkej^ for his dinner. Some of the 
 boys thought it more than likely that the sentinel 
 could distinguish between a turkey and an Indian in 
 broad daylight, but coveting a good dinner, took that 
 method to obtain it, trusting to stratagem for an excuse, 
 in which he succeeded. Allowing that it was so, it was, 
 no doubt, better to let it pass, than to deter a sentinel 
 from firing when there was danger, and thus expose his 
 life and the army to a stratagem of the enemy. 
 
 While in this camp I so discharged m}^ duties that 
 on drill I was placed at the head of a platoon, in place 
 of a commissioned officer; and I was so correct and 
 full in my returns and reports as to be favorably re- 
 ported to General Cass, who commanded our brigade, 
 upon which, unsolicited, he promised me a lieutenancy. 
 But, as the privates died off faster, in pro^wrtion, than 
 the officers, no vacancj^ occurred, and 1 was left to 
 serve out my time as I was. 
 
 While at Seneca, the Quarter-Master Sergeant asked 
 me, one day, if I was not a Methodist. "Why," said I, 
 "what makes you think so?" 
 
 "Well, you mind your own business, perform your 
 duty punctually, but uever join in the amusements of 
 the men. nor use any of their bad language." 
 
 "Yes, I am a Methodist." 
 
 "Ah!" said he, "you will not be that long here." 
 
 "Why," I inquired, "are we not engaged in a law- 
 ful and honorable war? And whj' can not a man eujoy 
 religion in the army, in such a case, as well as an}*- 
 where else?" 
 
 "That is all true," he said; "but as none, or very 
 few, have done so, I conclude that you will do as the 
 rest have done." 
 
 10
 
 114 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 "Then. " said 1, "by the help of Gud I will make one 
 exception; for I despise a man who will not maintain 
 his integrity in the ai-niv. as wrll as any other lawful 
 emplo3'ment." 
 
 During the ensuing Winter tliis Sergeant was home 
 on furlough, or the recruiting serv^ice. AVhen he re- 
 turned in the Spring to Detroit, at our first meeting, 
 he said, "Well, Sergeant, I have made inquiry about 
 you since my return, and am glad to find that you 
 have kept your word, and maintained jour religious 
 integrity. It is an honor to you, and you are the more 
 respected for it." 
 
 As I was now situated, my onl}' opportunity for se- 
 cret prayer, in form, was after all the men had retired. 
 It was part of my duty to see that ever}* non-commis- 
 sioned officer and private soldier in the company was 
 in his tent at tattoo, or nine o'clock, P. M. ; and, as all 
 was then still, I retired behind the breastwork, and 
 had my formal secret devotions, being obliged to do it 
 mentally at other hours of the day. I had my Biblo 
 with me, and read a portion of it every day; and, find- 
 ing a few men who had once had some knowledge of 
 religion, though now in a backslidden state, I conversed 
 with them on religious subjects, as often as opportunity 
 occurred. 
 
 As before stated, the countr}* was infested with In- 
 dians, accompanied by British regulars, and we ex- 
 pected an attack every night, for ten days. General 
 Harrison said that his s])ies reported five thousand reg- 
 ulars, and six thousand Indians, on the way for that 
 purpose; and knowing that his army of twenty-five 
 hun<lred men could not resist eleven thousand, he had 
 made a requisition on Ciovernor .NFoigs, of Ohio, for four 
 thousand militia, who were on tiioir niarili to assist 
 us. But the spies i-epoi"ted thai the enemy had lell 
 Fort Meigs, on the Maumee Iviver, and were heading
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 115 
 
 toward our ciimp. In view of the near approach of 
 the enemy, the General thought it prudent to fall back 
 toward Upper Sandusky, till he met Grovernor Meigs, 
 wilh his re-enforcement, and then return to the fight; 
 but he could not retreat and leave Major Croghan at* 
 Fort Stevenson, with one hundred and forty-tliree men, 
 w^here, with such a force against them, they must be 
 cut off. 
 
 The Greneral, therefore, sent an express to the Major 
 to burn his fort, and every thing in it that his men 
 could not carry on their backs, and retreat on the east 
 side of the river, so as lo be at Seneca at reveille the 
 next morning. But it so happened — fortunately, as it 
 turned out — that the express missed his way, got lost in 
 the woods, and did not reach the Major till the next 
 day, at ten o'clock, A. M. 
 
 In the mean time every thing was prepared at Sen- 
 eca for a retreat at reveille that morning. All the 
 provisions, stores, tents, and every thing that could not 
 be carried on men's backs, were to bt) burned. The 
 men were supplied with extra rations, to eat on the 
 wa}^ and but little sleep was had during the night. 
 But morning came, and no troops from the little fort. 
 It would not do to retreat, and leave them. A Council 
 of War was called to decide what should be done. The 
 men were restless, and discontented at the idea of a 
 retreat; and the officers seemed to be of the same state 
 of mind; all preferring to meet the enemy at our breast- 
 works, and try our skill and fortune in a battle, despite 
 the odds in numbers. At length, when General Cass 
 was asked his opinion, he said, "General, you are in 
 command; you must do as you think best." "But,'' 
 said Harrison, "two heads are better than one, and 1 
 want your opinion." "Well, it is my opinion, then, 
 that we would better not retreat till we see something 
 to retreat from." This settled the question ; and every
 
 llf^ A WESTERN PIONKER. 
 
 mail was set at work to Ktrt-iigllien our <k'fonso8, an<l 
 prepare for the worst. 
 
 The Major, knowing that the failure of the expresH 
 to I'cacli him in time to obty the order, wmild tliwart 
 tlie (ienerai's designs, and that he must wait for further 
 ordere; and as his own spies had reported only hun- 
 dreds where tlie General's had reported thousands, he 
 believed that he could defend the little fort, if attacked, 
 before another order could be received. As he had to 
 "wait for further orders, ho sent the express back, with 
 this letter: "1 have men enough, ammunition enough, 
 and j^rovlsions enougli ; and d n me if I quit the fort." 
 
 The express reached head quarters, with this inso- 
 lent letter, about sundown. The General, of course, 
 was nettled. The Major was a pet of his; had been 
 in service wilh him thiough the war, fi-om Ti})pecaiioo 
 to this time; and to get such a letter from his pet, was 
 rather too much for friendship to bear; and, besides, 
 subordination must be presei'ved, or the army would 
 be ruined. 80, the next mornini;, Colonel Wells was 
 ordered to the command of the little I'oj-t, and Colonel 
 Ball, wilh his tw<> hun<ired dragoons, was ordere<l to 
 escort him <lown to it, and biing up iVlajor Croghan 
 under airest. About noon the order was executed, and 
 the little Major, only nineteen years of age, was brought 
 into camp a prisoner. 
 
 The General was, naturally, very nervous, and excite- 
 ment very much (juickened his motions and his words. 
 When the Maj«jr ap])eared before him he sprang to his 
 feet, and, with vehemence, said, "Major Croghan, how 
 came you to send me that insolent letter?" 
 
 " Why. General, did n't the express explain it ?" 
 
 '' Ex})lain it! What explanation can be given to 
 such a lettei" as that? ' 
 
 •Why, General, did nt he tell you that he didn't 
 get there till yesterday morning, ut ten o'clock?"
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 117 
 
 " Yes, he told me that. But what has that to do 
 with this letter?" 
 
 " Wh}^, 3'ou know I could n't evacuate the fort, and 
 get here by reveille of the morning previous." 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 "Well, I knew that 3'our plans must be thwarted, 
 by the circumstance, and that I must wait for further 
 orders; and, believing that I was completely invested 
 by the enemy, and that the express and the letter 
 would fall into his hands, I determined, if it did, to send 
 him as bullying a one as possible. But I told the ex- 
 press, the d d rascal, that if he got through with it, 
 
 to explain it to you. Did n't he do it. General?" 
 
 "No, he did n't." 
 
 "Why, General, you know that I understand my 
 business, and the duties of a subordinate, too well to 
 send you such a letter, under any other circumstances." 
 
 "Wh}', certainly, I thought so; and that was the 
 mystery of the case. But how could I understand it 
 without an explanation? and with this I am satisfied." 
 And before night the Major was restored to his com- 
 mand, and Colonel Wells recalled to his. 
 
 There were some speculations among the officers as 
 to the Major's explanation. Some thought that he be- 
 lieved his own spies to have the correct numbers of the 
 enemy, despite the report of the General's spies, and 
 that with his advantages he could whip them, and that 
 he expected the attack before the General could arrest 
 him; if successful, the victory would place him above 
 censure; if not, it would make no difference, as he would 
 be either dead or a prisoner. But the most probable 
 reason for his course was that given by himself, 
 though he disapproved of the proposed retreat. As the 
 matter turned out, in two days after his return, he 
 fought the memorable battle of Fort Stevenson, having 
 but one hundred and forty-thi*ee men to repulse eleven
 
 118 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 luindrcd of tlie encm}'. Of" the Britisli regulars, Bome 
 fifty were killed in, or near, the ditch; but of the 
 wounded no report could be made, as they retreated. 
 But soon after the battle a British surgeon came, witli 
 a flag of truce, to attend to their wounded, expecting to 
 find at least one hundred and fifty, as but three hun- 
 dred of the five hundred that left Maiden got back to 
 it, showing a loss of two hundred, somewhere. On this 
 information the General sent out Indian scouts to scour 
 the woods between the little fort and the lake. They 
 picked up and brought in about twenty, and reported a 
 large number of dead bodies, aFid bones, and unitbrms, 
 indicating the death of as mnny, who perished in their 
 retreat. 
 
 Among the prisoners taken at the Thames, in Octo- 
 ber after, was one who said he was in that expedition, 
 and was sent as a spy, to ascertain if re-enforcements 
 were approaching the little fort, and when he discov- 
 ered the camp at Seneca, he entered it in the night, be- 
 tween two sentinels, counted the tents, ami iTpnrtcd 
 twenty-five hundred men to his officers. He said that 
 the British commander had no idea of the Seneca cam]); 
 he only aimed at the little fort; and as soon as he 
 learned of the strength of (jur arms at Seneca, he said 
 that what they did must be done at once, and ordered 
 the fatal attempt to scale the pickets, and storm the 
 place; but they had no idea of the ditch, in which forty 
 of them were killed by one shot from the six-pounder 
 in the block-house. 
 
 The case of the Indians who were engaged in this 
 fight is not known to history entire. In 1837, when 1 
 established a mission among the Sioux, a scar on the 
 face of Little Crow, the head chief, led me to inquire 
 where he received the wound, and he gave mr this in- 
 formation : ''Dixon, the British trader and agtiil, on 
 the west of Lake Michigan, went among the Sioux, and
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 119 
 
 raised one hundred and fift}' men ; among the AYinne- 
 bagoes, one hundred and fifty; and among the Sacs and 
 Foxes, three hundred. Little Crow's father commanded 
 the Sioux, and the son, then eighteen years old, accom- 
 panied him. Dixon told these Indians that the Yan- 
 kees were great cowards, but rich in s])oils ; that one 
 Indian could whip five Yankees, and that they would 
 be loaded with money and goods. They traveled round 
 the head of Lake Michigan, to Maiden, where they de- 
 manded to be led at once against the Y^'ankees. Proc- 
 tor, the British General, wished to delay a little, to get 
 ready for some grand movement, with his new allies, 
 but the}' would not be detained; they had come to fight 
 and plunder, and do it they would, or go home." 
 
 Proctor was unwilliiig to lose such a body of new 
 recruits, but he dreaded to iittack Fort Meigs again, 
 where, but a few months previous, he had been so badly 
 whipped. Presuming that the little stockade at Lower 
 Sandusky would be full of stores, and have but few men, 
 he determined to try his luck at that ; but, to avoid sus- 
 picion, he must make a feint at Fort Meigs, thinking to 
 draw troops from the little fort, and thus weaken it. 
 
 But Harrison understood his designs, and knowing 
 that Meigs was safe, sent no troops to strengthen it. 
 Alter a short skirmish at the old fort, Proctor sent the 
 Indians through the Maumee Swamp, while his regulars 
 went in boats to the mouth of Carrying River, and some 
 around into Sandusky Bay and river, with some artil- 
 lery. -'But such was the defeat they met with, that the 
 Indians became disheartened, and disgusted with the 
 deceptions that had been pla3-ed upon them, and having 
 lost at least one hundred in killed, and a large number 
 wounded, they.left the British, refusing to go to Maiden 
 for their presents, alleging that they had been deceived 
 once, and might be again, and took the straight course 
 for the head of Lake Michigan, and to their respective
 
 120 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 lioines. But more than luilf who started for the seat of 
 the war never returned. This w:ih the first, and the 
 Ia«t, time the Sioux of the Iliver ever lifted the toma- 
 hawk against tiie wliites." But this chief's son, in 
 18t)2, raised a great war in Minnesota. 
 
 Little Crow, in detailing tiic substance of the forego- 
 ing, concluded by saving, "The British are bad men. 
 poor figljlers, and deceived us; but the Americans were 
 bravo men, and figlit hard." BUicU Hawk, tl»e Sac 
 chief, in his Life, maices a similar statement, of that 
 attack ui)»)n Fort Stevenson, he being at the head of 
 Sacs and Foxes. 
 
 While the battle was raging at Fort Stevenson, tl»e 
 booming of tlio cannon reaciied our ears at Seneca, and 
 our men showed unmistakable signs of uneasiness and 
 discontent at the thought of so many of us having no 
 part in the fray. Some murmurings would break out, 
 because they were not led to tlie scene of action, and 
 some feais were expressed as to ti>e fate of that little 
 band of luave men. Jt was but a few hours, iiowever, 
 until the suspense was at an end, for a foaming steed 
 came into cam]), antl the rider lianded a letter to the 
 General, giving a brief statement of the afiair, and then 
 followed a deafening roar of shouts and rejoicing. 
 
 When Commodore Perry appeared with the fleet at 
 Sandusky Bay, he sent to General Harrison for eighty 
 infantry, to act as marines, in the fleet. I tried to be 
 one of them, but my Colonel refused to let me go, say- 
 ing he could not spare me. One of our company. Ben- 
 jamin Hall, who went to the fleet, performed a feat that 
 would have immortalized him, if ho had had triends to 
 sound his fame. 
 
 He was placed on board the Ohio schooner, which 
 mounted a long twenty -four- pounder pivot gun. In 
 the action all the ramrods lor the gun were shot away 
 or otherwise destroyed but one, and iu the heat of tho
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 121 
 
 action, by some strange oversight, that one ramrod was 
 left in the gun when fired, and the gun left useless for 
 the rest of the battle. The officers and men stood 
 looking at each other, and then at the rod some eight 
 or ten rods from the vessel, and in the midst of the 
 bubbles caused by the grape and canister shot of the 
 enemy. Hall soon relieved them from the painful 
 suspense. He stepped to the shroud rack and took 
 down a piece of small halyards, and taking one end of 
 it in his hand jumped overboard and swam to the rod, 
 and seizing it with the other hand, cried out to those 
 on board, "haul in." This was done with a will, and 
 after taking up the rod, they hauled him aboard, and 
 the gun was soon in use again. 
 
 The day after Perry's victory on the lake, our army 
 at Seneca, not yet knowing of it, marched to Lower 
 Sandusky, with a view to concentrating the whole of 
 the army at Fort Meigs, and thence to Maiden by land, 
 to co-operate with the fleet in an attack upon that strong- 
 hold. Numerous Mackinaw boats had been provided 
 for our troops to cross the head of the lake in, when 
 the enemy's fleet were kept in check, but where we 
 were to take the boats was not a settled question. 
 
 On reaching Lower Sandusky, and before we had 
 time to pitch our tents, we saw a boat coming up the 
 river, with all the speed oars could give her ; as soon as 
 the officer in command reached the fort on the hill — 
 we were camping on the bottom, next to the river — we 
 heard a tremendous shout and hurrahing, and then the 
 booming of cannon. All eyes were turned in that di- 
 rection, knowing that something glorious had occurred, 
 what, we could not guess. But we saw a man running- 
 down the hill at a break-neck speed, who announced 
 the victory on the lake, when the troops who had just 
 arrived joined in the universal shout and rejoicing. 
 
 Before the shout had subsided, orders came not to 
 U
 
 }'2'2 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 l>it(h our tents. })ut inarch at once toward the mrnith 
 of Cairyin*; or Put- in Way Hiver. to receive the pris- 
 oners. We wont that ni^ht to Whitaker's. three milen, 
 and the next day to the j)hice a]>i)ointed. In passing 
 over the prairie, where I could ^et no drink. I became 
 laint from the want of water, and gave out. 1 never 
 knew before tliat a man could go linger without food 
 than without water. But this j)roved it. An officer 
 on hoi-seback seeing me in the grass, and learning the 
 cause, gave me his horse to ride, and on the way Irom 
 the head of Sandusky Bay across the portage to the 
 lake, we came to a swale in which water stood in the 
 grass, but could not r'" ^" r the grass and yellow sedi- 
 ment; such as it was, th.. .neii drank it with eagerness. 
 A soldier handed me two pint cups full of it, so thick 
 that 1 could not see the bottom of the cup. but it was 
 the sweetest water I ever tasted. But I paid for it 
 before Winter, in the bile it caused in my system. 
 
 The next day, being the third after the victt>ry. 
 Commodore Perry and General Harrison met at our en- 
 campment at the mouth of Carrying liiver, with great 
 congratulations, and the booming of cannon from both 
 land and water. The arrangements were made to land 
 the prisoners there, and send them to Chillicothe, Ohio, 
 under guard; and for the troops to embark at that 
 ]>lace, in the ojieii boats, and on the smaller vessels, and 
 go by the islands to Maiden. The day following the 
 prisoners were landed, with some of whom I became 
 familiar; and esj)ecially with one midshipman, from 
 whom 1 learned sonte facts and incidents of the war, 
 which, though suspected and believed by many, had not 
 seen the light through the ])res8. But as they were 
 corroborated by some facts within my own knowledge, 
 and all linking into a chain with the j)rinted facts. I 
 deemed them to be well authenticated, and worthy of 
 credence.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 123 
 
 This midshipman was born in the United States, 
 but liaj)pened to get married at Maiden or Amherstburg, 
 and was living there when the war broke out. He 
 was a sergeant in a volunteer company previous to the 
 war. but intended to escape to the States, if war should 
 occur. Hull was accused of sending word to the Brit- 
 ish that war was declared, before the news of it reached 
 Detroit ; and this man said it was the fact ; that before 
 he knew of it, he was warned out of bed. and pressed 
 into the service, and so closely watched he could not 
 make his escape. Being a sergeant, he took his turn 
 in being orderly for General Brock, and was so when 
 he landed at Spring Wells, three miles below Detroit. 
 This brought him in close proximity with Brock. 
 
 He said that while Brock was waiting behind the 
 sand hills, at the Wells, he sent his aid out three times 
 to see if Hull had raised the white flag. When the 
 aid returned the second time with the word '-no flag 
 yet, General/' Brock's knees so trembled that they 
 
 fairly smote together, and he said, "■ D n me, I 'm 
 
 afraid the old dog will trick me yet." But when the 
 aid returned the third time with word that the flag 
 was out, Brock's countenance changed, and he ordered 
 a forward movement, to take possession of the city. 
 When they came to the west gate of the city and saw 
 the cannon planted so as to rake down the road, with 
 lighted matches by them, he. with others, felt and 
 looked pale at the thought of what would have been 
 the consequence if they had been let loose upon them. 
 And when they saw the rage of the Americans at being 
 thus sold, and without a chance to defend themselves,. 
 Brock said it would have been hard taking those men. 
 
 'Then,' said I, "Hull sold his men, did he?" 
 
 " O, yes. that was understood, or Brock would not 
 have ventured over the river with a force so much less 
 than that of the Americans."
 
 124 A WKSTEKN PIONEER. 
 
 '' Wril. what did Hull trvi for tljcni." 
 
 'WIj}', lie was to have sixteen dollars a head lui* 
 the men. and pny for the ])rovi8ions, guns, ammiinition, 
 etc.; but when Hull lay in Sandwich he sent General 
 M'Arthur up the St. Clair River to Selkirk's settle- 
 ment, and took eight hundred merino sheep, which 
 were valued at from twelve to fourteen hundred dol- 
 lai-s a head at that time, aud butchered them for his 
 army. When Brock had him a prisoner in Montreal, 
 and settled with him, he said, 'You stole those sheep 
 after you had made the bargain, and shall pay for 
 them ;' and thus brought Hull in debt, and served him 
 right." 
 
 As the sergeant told this story in the presence of 
 his I'ellow-prisoners, one of them rebuked him for "tell- 
 ing tales out of school." 
 
 " Wh}', it is true," said the sergeant. 
 
 'I know that," said the other, "but the truth is not 
 to be tohl at all times." 
 
 "O, well, I "m a prisoner, and 1 d<j n't know as 1 
 shall ever get back again." 
 
 The sergeant said that after the British got jios- 
 session of Detroit, with the artillery, etc., they built the 
 ship Detroit, and armed her with the guns taken in 
 the city, and, to man her, the company to which he 
 belonged was transferred to her, and he was made a 
 midshipman, in which capacity he was taken, and then 
 a prisoner. 
 
 This stor}' of the sei'geant reminded me of an inci- 
 dent that occurred in Bridgeport, Connecticut, on the 
 morning of the 17th of August, 1812, the next morning 
 after Hull's surrender, which took ])lace on the 10th of 
 that month. 
 
 There were in Bi'idgeport and the neighboring 
 towns men who wcie Tories, and in the liiitish service 
 in the Kevolutionary war, and who, down to this time,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 125 
 
 were drnwini^ half-pay from the British treasury, and 
 of course were now Federalists — the political party 
 which favored England, and were opposed to the war. 
 Among them was a Major who, by common consent, 
 was their leader, and his residence in Stratford was 
 called "head-quarters" of this Tory gang. 
 
 On the morning of the ITth of August, 1812, as 
 before stated, the day after Hulls surrender, I hap- 
 pened to be in companj- with some of this Tory gang, 
 who seemed not to regard my presence, as I was but a 
 youth, and who were conversing freely about the war, 
 when one of them, who was said to have been an En- 
 sign in the British service, and now on half-pay, said, 
 '^HuU has surrendered;" and spoke as if the matter 
 was so understood by them all as to be expected. 
 
 '■ How do you know? ' said another. 
 
 "Why, I got it at head-quarters, yesterday." 
 
 This answer seemed to settle all questions as to its 
 being so with the others, and all seemed to chuckle 
 over it as something good in their estimation. I turned 
 away in disgust at their treacher\' to the country, not 
 believing the report; but in ten days after the mails 
 brought a confirmation of it. This raised the query, 
 as to how it was known at the Tory head-quarters on 
 the verj' day of the surrender. 
 
 This, in turn, led me back in the history of the 
 country, when a Captain Henry in the British service 
 was prowling through New England to effect a division 
 of the Union, b}^ the Hudson Eiver, and Lakes George 
 and Champlain. As my memory serves me, it was in 
 1807, 8, and 9, and continued down to the war of 1812. 
 The design was to attach or annex that portion of the 
 Union which lies east of the line indicated to England, 
 and make it a Yice-Eoyalty, the capital of which should 
 be Boston. 
 
 John Quincy Adams, who was elected a Senator
 
 1:^6 A WKSTERN PIONEER. 
 
 from Massachusetts to the Congress of the United 
 States, in 1H03, as a Federalist, hut too much of a ])at- 
 riot lo join in tlie conspiraey. learnini^ of its existence 
 in his jtarly in 1808, went that Kail to Washin/ijton 
 with a heavy lieart. When he nu*t Mr. Jeftei*80n, then 
 the President, he saw in Adams's countenance that he 
 was in trouble, and rallied him upon it. Adams evaded 
 it, at first, not knowing how to broach the subject to 
 the best advantai^e. But the two bein^ pei-sonal 
 friends, though difteriiig politicail}' down to that time, 
 Jetl'erson insisted upon knowin«^ the cause of his 
 trouble, believing it was of a j>ublic nature. 
 
 Upon this Adams said: 'Mr. Jeft'erson, you are 
 President of the United States, and I am sworn to 8up- 
 ])ort its Constitution, and it is jtroper that you should 
 know the cause of my trouble;" and in a confidential 
 interview gave him all the information he had ob- 
 tained on the subject, and added. '' 1 can not go with 
 my party. If that is Federalism, I am done with it." 
 
 In the course of that Winter Mr. Pickering, the 
 other Senator from Massachusetts, wrote a long letter 
 to a friend in Boston, assuming to show that the Ad- 
 ministration at Washington was under French influence. 
 This was intcnde<l, and was printed and circulated 
 extensively in New England for political effect. A 
 copy of it was sent to Mr. Adams, who answered it so 
 overwhelmingly that the party cast him off, and the 
 Republicans, of course, felt proud of such an acquisition. 
 Mr. Adams, knowing that he could not be re-elected to 
 the Si-nate, <i(Mlined being a carulidate; and it was said 
 that Mr. Jefferson, or ^Ir. .Madison, who siiccerded him 
 ill the Presidency, found iiuans. by an ai^ent. to pur- 
 ehasr of Captain Henry the corres])ondence he then 
 had lor ?;')(),()(»(> out of the secret service money. Sub- 
 se(iuently the correspondence was j»ublishcd to the 
 world. 
 
 I
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 127 
 
 . The design to divide the Union, however, was not 
 abandoned. As the war was expected for some years 
 before it occurred, the measures to divide the Union 
 were still in progress of preparation, and never fully 
 exploded, till after the infamous Hartford Convention 
 in 1814. 
 
 In the mean time Hull was Governor of Michigan, 
 and was expected to have the command of the army in 
 that region in case of war. Brock was Governor and 
 commanding General in Upper Canada, just across the 
 river from Detroit, and the two had opportunities for 
 pi'ivate interviews and correspondence, whatever it 
 might be. 
 
 In the Winter of 1811 and '12 Hull was in Wash- 
 ington, when and where the plan of operations was 
 adopted. From thence, before going to Ohio to take 
 command of the two regiments of volunteers raised 
 there under Colonels Cass and M'Arthur, before war 
 was declared, he went through New England, when he 
 had ample time and o])])ortunit3' to arrange matters 
 for future operations. The plan, as it leaked out, was 
 for him to surrender Detroit, which, it was supposed, 
 would draw General Dearborn, with all the regulars, 
 from Xew England to the North-AYest. A British fleet 
 and army were to hover on the coast; the Governors of 
 the States were to refuse — as some of them did — to call 
 out the militia at the proclamation of the Government, 
 and the people were to rise en masse and declare for a 
 separation from the Union, and for annexation to 
 England; and that the matter should be sure, by a 
 simultaneous action, the day for the surrender of De- 
 troit was fixed upon. I can account for its being- 
 known at the Torj^ -'head-quarters" in Connecticut, on 
 the day of its occurrence, upon no other principle. 
 
 Nor is it possible to account for all of Hull's 
 movements previous to the surrender, without the
 
 128 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 a<lnns.siuii of tljese facta substantially, if not in tlct:gl, 
 nanu'I y : 
 
 1. Hcfore he reached Detroit with his army, sa}-, 
 while at the River Raisin, the news of the declaration 
 of war reached him, and this was known in Maiden 
 before it was known at Detroit. The court-martial 
 that tried him seemed to be satisfied that lie sent the 
 news to Maiden, as my sergeant affirmed he did. 
 
 2. He neglected to take MaUlen when he could have 
 done it with ease, either before he reached Detroit, or 
 while he lay in Sandwich. 
 
 11 He retreated from Sainlwich to Detroit before 
 there was any danger of an attack, or any force of the 
 cnemj' sufficient to annoy him was in the country. 
 
 4. lie sent Colonels Cass and MArthur with their 
 commands away on a fool's errand, just in time to have 
 them out of the way when Brock was to, and did, come. 
 
 5. He refused to let his men fire, though the guns 
 were in position, hjaded, and the matches lighted by 
 them, and could have defeated the enemy with ease. 
 Had the fight begun, Cass and M' Arthur were near 
 enough to have cut off the enemy's retreat. 
 
 0. The vary manner in which Brock marched his 
 troops uj) to Detroit showed that he expected no resist- 
 ance, doing so in column ami in the road, in the face 
 of guns enough to have blown him and his army to 
 flinders. 
 
 Now, taking all these things into view, the two inci- 
 dents, the one in Bridgeport and that given by the 
 sergeant, link in with the chain of events known to 
 history, so as to show the truth of them.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 129 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ABOUT the time of the landing of the prisoners at 
 Carrying Eiver. Governor Shelby, of Kentucky, 
 arrived with his mounted volunteers. They were in- 
 tended for a land march. But the taking of the fleet, 
 clearing the lake of the enemy, changed the order of 
 march, and boats being provided, a water march was 
 decided on. as easiest and quickest. Their horses were 
 turned out on the peninsula, and a fence made of fallen 
 trees across the portage, to keep them there; except 
 Colonel Johnson's regiment, whicli went round the 
 head of the lake by land. 
 
 The first move was to Put-in-Bay Island. The boat 
 I went in was an old Mackinaw trading-boat, of lees 
 size than the new ones. Twenty-seven of us got into 
 it and started. The wind soon rose to a gale, dead 
 ahead. The sail vessels, which were full of men, were 
 obliged to come to anchor, and all the open boats, 
 except ours, turned back. Ours was so heavily loaded, 
 that to turn in the troughs of the seas Avould have 
 been to founder, when most likely all would have been 
 drowned. 
 
 I sat at the helm, and apprised the officer in com- 
 mand of the danger we were in, and that our only 
 safety was in keeping the boat in the wind's eye, and 
 to double-man the oars, keeping one or t^vo to bail out 
 the water that dashed over the sides. The top of the 
 boat was not more than one foot above the water when 
 in a calm, and of course most of the swells would throw 
 the spray over her sides. I sat at the helm for eleven 
 hours without any change, to go about twelve miles. 
 The officer in command soon discovered my nautical
 
 130 A WESTERN I'lONKEK. 
 
 skill, aii<l oxc'cutod my directiuiis as il" 1 lia*l been in 
 comniaiul. He at\erwai<l was hoard to say that he did 
 not bejieve there was a man in tin* brigade that couhl 
 manage a boat us well as ] eould. So much for wliat I 
 learned when a boy, on the Hudson River. 
 
 While the wind had full HWeej) upon uh, wo moved 
 but slowly, and sometimes eould hardly see any head- 
 way. But as WH^ eame under the lee of the island the 
 wind had less ettect, the water beeame smoother, and 
 finally, when elose in shore, a ealm, when we made 
 better headway. 
 
 As we rounded the island and eame in along ^ide of 
 the 6hij)))ing. we saw evidence of the havoc of battle. 
 The Detroit had not a spar left standing. The masts, 
 bowsi)rit. and the davits were all shot awa}-. Her side 
 next to our guns in the battle was so full of balls, shot, 
 and holes made by l^avy shot, that it seemed to mo 
 that a man's hat, laid on her at any i)lace, would touch 
 more or less of them. The balls sticking in her sides, 
 while the Lawrence was bored through and through, 
 showed the difference in the effects produced by long 
 and short guns. The Detroit was armed with the long 
 guns, sold by Hull, while the Lawrence an«l Niagaia 
 were armed with carronades. The few shot that went 
 through the sides of the British wooden->valls, were 
 from the long guns on our gun-boats. 
 
 On reaching the beach, to land, we saw a twelve- 
 pounder gun with the muzzle blown off in the action. 
 It was sujiposed that a ball IVohi the enemy entered 
 the iMU/.zlc of the gun. at the instant of firing it. an<l 
 about a foot of it was blown otf. whieh rendt timI it use- 
 less for battle. 
 
 We learned from tlie piisonei's that Commodore 
 Barkley had two ])et bears on board «»f his vessel, and 
 took also two Indians, whom he placed in the lound 
 tops, with rifles, to shoot Commodore Perry, and other
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 131 
 
 American officers. But the thunder of the fiist broad- 
 side so frightened them that they left their positions 
 and went below decks, and coiled tliemselves away in 
 the cable tier; and the bears following the example of 
 their brethren of the forest, did the same thing, and 
 the whole four were found there in a heap after the 
 action. I saw the Indians among the prisoners, the 
 pictures of despair; they were delivered over to our 
 Indians. But the bears, I believe, were claimed by the 
 sailors, as belonging to the ship. 
 
 While on this island, the water of the lake being 
 rather too warm to be palatable for drinking, and hear- 
 ing of a cave somewhere in the island in which cool 
 water could be obtained, I went for it. and soon found 
 a large string of men going to and returning from it 
 with canteens and camp-kettles. The mouth of the 
 cave was rather low, so that we had to crawl in and 
 out, and so much Avater had been spilled there, it was 
 quite muddy and slippery. We had to use candles or 
 torches. There was, inside, a large room, the arch 
 overhea«l being perhaps ten feet high. The water was 
 on one side of it; and the motion of the water, and the 
 presence of fish, proved that there was a communica- 
 tion with the lake. The water was evidently lake 
 water, but was cooler than that which was daily under 
 the influence of the sun and the warm air. But the 
 atmosphere in the cave was oppressive, probably more 
 80 than common, from the great number of heated 
 human bodies, and their breath, that were constantly 
 going in and out. I soon grew tired of this subter- 
 ranean abode, and got out as soon as possible, with no 
 desire to visit caves any more, at least such ones. 
 
 While on this island, a deserter for the fourth time 
 was tried, condemned, and shot. This thing of shoot- 
 ing men judicially is very serious business. The army 
 is formed into a hollow square on ground rising from
 
 132 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 the center each way. if to he had, so tliat all can see to 
 n<lvantage. The condemned man is placed on his knees 
 in the centei-, and twelve men are detailed to do the 
 work of death. Their ^uns are loaded hy the officern, 
 one of which is letl without a hall, hut the men know 
 imt whi( h it is, 80 that each one hopcH it is his. The 
 j)ris<)ner is blindfolded and shot at the word of com- 
 mand, "ready, aim, fire. It he i.s not killed at the 
 first nhot, the guns are reloaded and the firing re|>eated 
 as soon as possible. \o one feels like deserting after 
 such a sight. 
 
 One such scene, of an impressive character, occur- 
 red at Seneca, except the shooting. A sentinel was 
 found asleep on his post, and condemned to be shot. 
 vVll things were prei)ared as usual — the army in a 
 hollow square; the man upon his knees and hood- 
 winked; the guard in ])<)sition with their guns loaded. 
 The word, 'ready," was given, when the j)Oor fellow 
 turned pale, and cxjiected to hear the other words, 
 "aim, fire," and to fall dead and appear before the Judge 
 of all men. But that instant the General stepjied up 
 and said, "As you were." This brought the guns to a 
 shoulder of arms, and the pardon was granted, accom- 
 panied with a lecture to the troo])8 on the importance 
 of a sentinel's keej)ing awake on his post; because the 
 lives of the whole army might, possibly, bo lost as the 
 consequence of such sleep. 
 
 As soon as the poor fellow could get the cliance, ho 
 went to the General and fell on his knees, and thanked 
 him lor the ])ardon ; declaring that he not only saved 
 his body from death, hut his soiil from ln-ll. •For." 
 said he, "I am not prepared to die. I have neglected 
 my soul's salvation, and 1 o.xpected to be in hell before 
 this time. And now, if (lod spares me, I will be a good 
 soldier, and seek for his mercy and pardon." The 
 General is said to have wept, and sent him away with
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 133 
 
 hi^! blessiiii;'. This man got through the war safe, got 
 home, obtained religion, nianied and raised a family. 
 
 I have often, since, thought of that man, and com- 
 pared his case with that of Adam. If he had died, his 
 sin-born posterity must have died in and with him, as 
 they seminally existed in him, at the time he was con- 
 demned to die ; they were in him, in the same sense, 
 when he was pardoned; and in consequence of that 
 pardon he was enabled to propagate his species. But 
 who, with any traits of humanity or kindness about 
 him, would think of taking up his children and execut- 
 ing them for the sin of their father, and that for which 
 he was pardoned before they were born? And who, 
 with any degree of Christianity about him. could imag- 
 ine that God would send infants to hell for the sin of 
 Adam, for which he was pardoned long before they 
 were born? 
 
 The army moved fi-om Put-in-Bay, in open boats, 
 accompanied by the shipping that had not been crip- 
 pled in the batj^le, unto the middle sister island. Here 
 the troops under General M'Arthui", from Fort Meigs, 
 met us. That little island was alive with men ; said to 
 number fifteen thousand. We had not been long on it 
 before some one discovered leeks^ a kind of wild onion; 
 and we having been so long without anj^ vegetable of 
 the root kind, were all eager for something besides 
 bread and meat. As soon as the discovery was made, 
 the news of it spread like wild-fire, and every man 
 that could was scratching and digging with his fingers, 
 Bcalping-knife, or a stick, and probably in fifteen or 
 twenty minutes the whole island was dug over. I got 
 about half a dozen, which I relished with a zest. 
 
 From this island we moved in the same way, in 
 open boats, for the Canada shore, each boat carrying 
 from fifty to one hundred men. The boats moved 
 abreast, about as far apart as the men on board, when
 
 134 A WKSTKKN PIONKKR. 
 
 in lino, two deep, would fill the space. The line, when 
 landed, stretelied about a mile and a Italf. The j)laee 
 of landing was on the beach of the lake, tliree miles 
 below Maiden. In two minutes from the time the first 
 boat struck the beach, the wh'ole line was formed, ready 
 for action. Before reaching the shore I saw the inhab- 
 itants about the house in front of us, and said there was 
 no fighting to be done there, for the enemy would not 
 leave their own peoj)le between us and them ; and so it 
 proved. Every drum and fifo was playing " Yankee 
 Doodle" till we struck the beach, and then all was 
 silent. I sprang from the boat to the beach at the same 
 moment General Harrison did, and witliin six or eight 
 rods of him, and had my company in line as soon as 
 an}' other. 
 
 On landing, and seeing no enemy, Harrison and 
 suite went up to the house, the inmates of which had 
 now retreated within doors; but, being assured that 
 they would not be hurt, the}- opened the door, and in- 
 formed the General that llie lort at MahUn was burned, 
 and the enemy had retreated up the Detroit River. 
 Upon this a scout was sent to the woods, in the rear 
 of the farm, and the army faced to the left, and 
 marched to Maiden, and took possession of the smolder- 
 ing ruins. 
 
 In crossing the lake we were sui>))lied with jerked 
 beef and hard bread, which we carriiMl in our knap- 
 sacks — haversacks not then being known to military 
 Bcien(re. We ha<l neither tents nor l)lankets. The boats 
 wei'o too much crowded witli men to cari'v i\ny thing 
 else. The shipping followed, with ])rovisions and bag- 
 gage, as fast as they could ; but, having no steam vessels 
 then, our fleet depende<l upon the wind, which being 
 light, they were behind us some distance. Some half 
 a dozen large ]^Iackinaws had six, nine, and twelve- 
 pounder guns, on tiuld-carriages, on board, on our left,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 135 
 
 and being j^^'^^P^^^®*^^ t)y oars, kept pace with us, but we 
 had no use for them. 
 
 That night we camped in and about the ruins of the 
 old fort, in the open air. It rained on us, but we had 
 to take it. It was reported that the Indians intended 
 to attack us in the night, or at day-break, which was 
 their usual time of attack; and our lines were formed 
 for defense, and we lay on our arms, as a precaution. 
 But the idea of their burning their fort, and retreating, 
 and then attacking us in the open field, was so absurd 
 that little faith was placed in the report. Still, "as 
 caution is the mother of safety," we were arranged for 
 the worst, if it did come. 
 
 I lay down on a piece of board, before the camp fire, 
 to keep out of the mud, having no covering, with my 
 cartridge-box under my head, and my gun-lock between 
 my thighs, so as to keej) it dry. In the night I awoke, 
 and found my right, or upper, ear full of water, and my 
 right, or upper, side wet to the skin, and turned over 
 to let the water drain out of my ear. In the morning I 
 found some men worse off than I was, for they lay in 
 ponds of water. 
 
 My company was soon placed in a vacant house, out 
 of the rain, and finding wood, we had rousing fires to 
 dry by. As some of the vessels came up, with flour and 
 pork, the bakers ^vere set to work, and by eleven o'clock 
 we had bread and pork to eat. We had no cooking ap- 
 paratus with us, but necessity is the mother of inven- 
 tion, and we got small sticks and rods, sharpened, and 
 stuck the slices of pork on them, and held them in the 
 blaze of the fire till cooked. This, on bread, tasted 
 good to hungry men, and I thought, if ever I got home, 
 I would try it again ; but at home, and in the absence 
 of the appetite, it was not so sweet. 
 
 We marched from Maiden to Sandwich in line, ready 
 for battle at anv moment. Colonel Johnson's mounted
 
 130 A WKSTEKN PIOMCKR. 
 
 uu'n, at llio same time, move(i up the right bank of the 
 river to Detroit, and lujiiid tlie fort tliere also burned. 
 Some of our baggage coming up on the vessels, one 
 luindred and sixty of us, of the Twentj'-Scventh Regi- 
 ment United States Infantry, were detailed to accom- 
 ]»any the volunteers in the ))urHuit of Proctor and 
 Tecumseh. The rest of the regulars remained under 
 General M 'Arthur, to protect Detroit against Indians, 
 \vh(.» refused to follow the British any further, and 
 who were said to have threatened to burn and plunder 
 the city. But finding the place 2)rotected, they sent in 
 a flag, and surrendered. 
 
 In the mean time, Colonel Johnson's men were fer- 
 I'ied across the river, and the army, consisting now of 
 Govei-nor Shelby's volunteers, on foot, Colonel John- 
 son's mounted infantr}', and one hundred and sixty 
 regulars, moved up the St. Clair Lake and the River 
 Thames. General Cass and Commodore Perry accom- 
 panied General Harrison as volunteer aids. 
 
 On the second night we encamped at a farm, I think 
 it was Dawson's, and the chief officers lodged in the 
 house. The woman, being a ramj)ant Briton, gave 
 Harrison, and the others, a terrible tongue-lashing for 
 coming there, calling them thieves and robbers; and if 
 she only had the Forty-Eighth British Regiment — the 
 one then fleeing before us — she would drive the whole 
 army awa}-. Among other lamentations, she said she 
 should not have a bee-hive left till morning. The 
 (Jeneral replied, ''Madam, I will put a guard over 
 the bees." and gave the necessary orders. But the 
 word got out among the men of the abuse the woman 
 had given the officers, and the placing of the sentinel 
 showed where the bees were. It' she had held her 
 ])ea(o it would not have been known, their location was 
 such, that she had bees. But the abuse preparing the 
 men for revenge, and the sentinels having no objection,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 137 
 
 they would be so long walking one way that a man 
 would slip in behind them, and carry off a hive before 
 they turned to walk back, and, when relieved, they 
 would help eat the honey. By this means every hive 
 disappeared before morning; and the General told the 
 Quarter-Master General to pay for them. 
 
 In retreating the British had taken some small ves- 
 sels, loaded with stores and provisions. This point was 
 as high up the river as they could be got, and finding 
 us still after them, they set fire to their vessels, carr}-- 
 ing their supplies in small boats. Our friend, Benjamin 
 Hall, who swam ibr the ramrod, on the lake, having 
 returned to his company, and now being with us, found 
 a sloop burned to the water's edge, and resting on the 
 mud so that she could not sink. While the fire was 
 raging in one part of her, and shells were frequently 
 exploding, he found a barrel of pork, and, getting some 
 help, rolled it up the bank, knocked in the head, and it 
 was soon distributed among his friends, and was quite 
 a relief from jerked beef 
 
 The next day we had to cross the river. Some did 
 so behind the horsemen, some in canoes, or other small 
 craft, and some forded it on foot, the water being about 
 waist high. Before crossing, some Indians were seen 
 on the right bank of the river, at whom some cannon- 
 balls, shot from a six-pounder, were sent. Colonel 
 Whitley, ''fighting on his own hook," shot two of them, 
 and swam his horse across, and scalped them. But 
 more of him hereafter. 
 
 On our march, after crossing the river, and before 
 the battle, we passed a large farm, with buildings cor- 
 responding, having about sixty bee-hives in the garden, 
 within a paled fence. One of our men had been 
 through the country before the war, and knew the re- 
 ported history of the family, which he made known, 
 and the Kentuckians concluded to have some honey. 
 
 12
 
 138 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Their Iiisloi'V, as reported, \va« tliis : While men 
 were being Inirii^, in the Stute of New York, for llor^e- 
 stealing, this man was eonvieted of this crime, and con- 
 demned to be hung, at Batavia. Two days before tlie 
 execution was to have taken place, liis wife was per- 
 mitted to visit liim in his cell, and remained some time. 
 When she, as was supposed, left, her veil was drawn 
 down, and her head hung in sorrow, with hands over 
 her face, crying bitterly at the last parting. Of course 
 the jailer made no very particular examination as to 
 identity; but the fact was, they had changed clothes 
 and he let^t the jn-ison in lier apparel, and that niirht 
 stole a horse, and juit lor Canada. 
 
 On the day fixed for the execution, a large con- 
 course — for that country, being then new — assembled to 
 see it. But on bringing the prisoner out, she declared 
 her sex, which a slight observation proved, and of 
 course, as she had not been condemned, nor could be 
 executed for her husband's offense, she was discharged ; 
 that night she, also, stole a horse and put for Canada, 
 where they soon met; and as there was then no treaty 
 stipulations for pursuing criminals over the line, they 
 were now safe. 
 
 At that time the King was giving 400 acres of land 
 to each new settler; and supposing the Thames to be 
 BO far out of the world that the New York authorities 
 could never find them, they selected this as their future 
 home, having a pair of horses to begin with, and out 
 of this, the King's bounty, as it was called, they had 
 made their present farm and improvements, and raised 
 a large family, which, as I atUrward learned, were re- 
 spectable. 
 
 The army was under strict orders not to molest 
 the inhabitants not in arms against us, or take their 
 proj)crty unpaid for. Hut in this case, as well as in 
 that of Mrs. Dawson the night before, the Kentuckians
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. l-j) 
 
 thought they might take a little honey for their stom- 
 ach's sake, and, accordingly, the fence was thrown 
 down, the bee-hives were turned up, the scalping- 
 knives introduced, and piece after piece of the comb, 
 and hive alter hive were taken, till all but six of the 
 sixty were emptied, leaving the maddened bees flying 
 round in wild confusion. The six saved were taken 
 by the owner into the cellar. It was amusing to see 
 how the fellows worked it. Each had his gun to hold 
 under his arm while he turned up the hive with one 
 hand, and introduced the other into the honey-comb. 
 Then they ran to get their places in the line, meantime 
 fighting off the bees which followed them. The regu- 
 lars had no hand in the affair. 
 
 I went into the house to get a drink, where the 
 Quartermaster-General was taking an inventory of 
 some property which the enemy had left there in store, 
 and heard him tell the man that he had orders to pay 
 the inhabitants for the damage the volunteers might 
 do, as they were uncontrollable. 
 
 Our regulars were kept as a reserve, and when the 
 enemy was discovered in line, ready to receive us, and 
 oar men arranged for the attack, the General rode back 
 to us and said, ''I don't know how these volunteers 
 will act. If they give way, my whole dependence is on 
 you, and if you fiiil me, I'll bury my head in sorrow 
 and disgrace to-day.'' But he had no occasion for that. 
 The impetuosity of the Kentuckians was such that the 
 enemy's regulars broke and fled at the first fire, fol- 
 lowed by a charge, and were soon secured as prisoners, 
 except about forty dragoons, who fled with Proctor 
 and Elliott, the Colonel, who had command of the In- 
 dians, both here and at the massacre at the Eiver 
 Eaisin the previous Winter. Some of Colonel Johnson's 
 mounted men followed the fugitives some distance. 
 Elliott's horse stumbled and threw his rider, and our
 
 140 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 men were too close to allow him to remount. He took 
 to the woods in a wind-fall, where the brush and old 
 logs were too thick for horses to travel, and hv made 
 his escape, and our men returned. 
 
 Colonel Johnson engaged the Indians under Tecum- 
 Beh ; but when they saw that the liritish regulars had 
 surrendered, they tied into a swamp, where the horse- 
 men could not go, and made their escape. The prison- 
 ers were placed under guard of the regulars, in the 
 center of the general encampment. In the night we 
 were all aroused and ordered to our arms, at the loud 
 outcry of a volunteer. He exclaimed: 'O Lord! O 
 Lor<l ! Indians, Indians !" We thought for a moment 
 that they had attacked our lines. But it turned out 
 that the man was asleep and dreaming of an attack. 
 
 Among the wounded prisoners was the interpreter 
 and aid-de-camp of Brigadier-General Tecumseh, who 
 was a half-breed. He lay at the root of a tree close 
 by my company, and the next morning when the Brit- 
 ish surgeons, with ours, visited this man, I stepped up 
 to see and hear. The man had <i(\een buck-shot in 
 him. Our cartridges had t)ne ball and throe buck-shot, 
 or tit\een buck-shot, in them; of course he had one 
 whole charge in him. The surgeons all agreed that 
 he must die, and they could do no more for him. He 
 was bandaged from his neck to his knees, including 
 his arms. 
 
 While standing by the dying man, knowing that 
 he was aid and interpreter to Tecumseh, the conversa- 
 tion between the surgeons naturally turned upon the 
 report of the death of that chief. The Americans in- 
 sisted that he was dead ; while the British thought that 
 he was such a wily old dog that he had made his escape. 
 
 At this, the interpreter spoke and said, "He is 
 dead, he fell when I did." and then relatt'd as follows: 
 "Tecumseh swore that if Jlanison was in that battle,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 141 
 
 he would kill him or lose his life ; for he had owed 
 him great hatred since the battle of Tippecanoe. See- 
 ing a man on a fine horse, Avith a cocked hat on, and 
 a wide wampum belt over his shoulder to which his 
 powder-horn and bullet-iDOuch were hung, and being 
 thus distinguished from every other man in the army, 
 he supposed that it must be Harrison, and advanced 
 from the line of the Indians to get a shot at him. In 
 his advance he was followed by other Indians in the 
 form of a harrow or triangle. 
 
 "At the same time the white chief seeing this move- 
 ment, having dismounted with the others, moved for- 
 ward to meet him, being followed by his men in the 
 same form. ^ Tliey bijth leveled their rifles at the same 
 moment, but Tecumseh got the first fire and the white 
 chief fell. At this Tecumseh rushed up to get the 
 scalp, followed by this interpreter, and a number of 
 other Indians, when a volley from the white men 
 brought the chief himself, and many others, to the 
 ground. Tecumseh being still intent upon securing 
 the scalp rallied again, though badly wounded, when a 
 youth who had discharged his musket, drew a pistol 
 from his belt and shot the chief dead." In half an houi* 
 after relating this the aid and interpreter died. 
 
 This settled the question with the surgeons as to the 
 death of the old chief, who had been for many years 
 the great terror of the North-West frontier, and it set- 
 tled the question in the camp, at the time, as to who 
 killed him; that is, a young man of Colonel Johnson's 
 regiment. But no one thought or said, so far as was 
 known, that Col. Johnson himself was the fortunate 
 man. But on reaching Detroit, the General's letter to 
 the Secretary of War, came to us in the papers, in 
 which he gave the credit of the deed to Colonel E. M. 
 Johnson. This news surprised the army of the Thames. 
 No one doubted the courage or bravery of the Colonel,
 
 142 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 and no one doubted that lie would have killed him if 
 he could have got the chance. And, further, no one 
 doubted that the Colonel did kill a bold chief who 
 rushed upon him while hampered by his fallen horse, 
 and being himself wounded ; but the chief he killed 
 was not Tecumseh. We believed the General was mis- 
 led by some one; and feeling disposed to honor the 
 Colonel for his distinguished services in that campaign, 
 he had taken it for granted without sufficient inquiry 
 as to the facts of the case. 
 
 Since that time so many have questioned whether 
 the Colonel or somebody else killed that chief, that it 
 has been a subject of newspaper and historical contro- 
 versy, and myself as well as others have been drawn 
 into it. 1 care nothing about it, only for the truth of 
 history, and for that alone 1 will give further evidence 
 of the truth of my statements. 
 
 In 1848, in convei-sation with Colonel James Gentry, 
 of Belmont, Wisconsin, who was a personal and politi- 
 cal friend of Colonel Johnson's, when I related the 
 statement of the interpreter and aid of Tocuinsi'h, 
 Colonel Gentry said he believed it, for it corrob- 'rated 
 the story told by the adjutant of ("olonel Johnsons regi- 
 ment when he returned from the battle on the Thames. 
 Gentry was born, and then lived in Kentucky, in the 
 county in which the adjutant resided. He was twelve 
 years old ; too young to be a soldier, or he would have 
 been one of them. But like all Kentuckians at that 
 time, he took a deep interest in the at^'airs of the war, 
 and noticed and remembered every thing that was said 
 about it. This adjutant said when he returned home, 
 that young King, of Captain Anderson's company, shot 
 Tecumseh with a ])istol. 
 
 Since lluii I have seen it stated that Captain An- 
 derson, wIh) lor mail}' years was State Treasurer of Ken- 
 tucky, still says that young King killed Tecumseh ; and
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 143 
 
 in the Spring of 1861 I met with John Booth, Esq., of 
 Avoca, Wisconsin, who was in Colonel Johnson's regi- 
 ment, and in the battle of the Thames, and knew young 
 King, and heard him tell where he was when he fired 
 through a bush or fallen tree, and where he hit him; 
 and, on examining the dead body, and a certain fork of 
 a fallen tree through which he fired, he found all the 
 marks as King had stated, and no one in the regiment 
 doubted that King was the killer of the great chief. 
 Booth, like Gentry, was a personal and political friend 
 of Johnson's, but could not sacrifice truth to honor 
 their friend. 
 
 The white chief who fell by the fire of Tecumseh 
 was recognized at once, by the Americans, as being 
 Colonel Whitley. The Colonel could, it was said, have 
 commanded a regiment under Governor Shelby, but he 
 declined, preferring to "fight on his own hook," and he 
 was permitted to go when and where he pleased. If»he 
 heard a gun on either wing, front or rear of the army, 
 his fleet horse was put upon the run to see what it meant, 
 and if a fight, to share in it. He w^as clad in Kentucky 
 jeans, hunting-shirt and pants. He had on his left 
 shoulder a wide wampum-belt, which held his powder 
 and bullet-pouch, as above described ; a leather girdle 
 round his waist, to which was attached a tomahawk 
 and scalping-knife. His rifle was long and highly 
 mounted with silver. His horse was a tall bay, slim 
 legged, and looked like a racer. On the day of the 
 battle, and before it, as previously stated, he shot two 
 Indians across the river, and swam his horse over, 
 climbed the bank, scalped them, and returned. I saw 
 him come up the bank, on his return from one of these 
 feats. He was a brave and daring warrior from his 
 youth, and his death was greatly lamented as a public 
 calamity. 
 
 On our return to Detroit we met a gale of wind
 
 144 A WESTERN PIONEER, 
 
 and heavy laii), and the bouts conveying the cliief 
 officers' bagi^agc were driven into the mouUi of a little 
 Htrram that enijities into Lake St. Clair, Home twenty 
 or twenty-five miles from Detroit. Here we camped 
 without tents, shelter, or supper; hut wo found wood 
 and ma«le lar^e fires. In some way, I never knew how, 
 some of the men being wet, cold, and huni^ry, were in 
 quest of something to eat, when they found in a boat a 
 keg of brandy, from which the}' drew hirge rations. 
 Others got possession of the secret, and drew also till 
 the keg was emptied. When the officers nought fi>r a 
 little of the creature comfort, the keg proved to have 
 leaked it all out. Of course, they suspected the soldiers, 
 but they might as well have looked U>v a needle in a 
 haymow as for the man or men who had tapped the 
 Governor's stores. If they had visited the camp-fires 
 near by them they could have found a number who 
 were much the worse lor liquor; but what licjuor, or 
 where it came from, would have l)een a difficult ques- 
 tion to be answered, except by the men lliemselves. 
 
 On reaching Detroit the volunteers left for their 
 homes, taking the prisoners with them as tar as Chilli - 
 cothe, Ohio, and General Harrison took some of the 
 regulars on board the fleet and went down the lake, 
 leaving a part of the regulars, including m}- regiment, 
 to guard the city, and the Canada shore, Sandwich ajid 
 Mahlen. 
 
 To prepare for Winter we had a heav}- job before 
 us. The British had burned the fort, leaving nothirig 
 but the lieav}- earthworks. They left nothing combus- 
 tible, not a board or stick of timber, and we were 
 compelled to go to the woods, from one to three miles 
 distant, or to the islands, still further, to get logs and 
 poles with which to build huts to winter in. Until 
 these could be got ready, we occupied tents and vacant 
 houses in tlu' rity. Hero began and endetl a great
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUXSON. 145 
 
 mortality among the soldiers, which carried oif about 
 eight hundred men, more than all the loss in this cam- 
 paign by the casualties of war on this frontier. The 
 surgeons treated their patients as for common bilious 
 attacks, but thoy died as many as six or eight a day. 
 The surgeons had been careless, and more intent upon 
 their own comforts than those of the sick, until they 
 became alarmed for their reputation and office, when, 
 by a post-mortem examination, they discovered the 
 nature of the disease, and then soon put a stop to it. I 
 was attacked among others, as I supposed, with bilious 
 fever, in part, if not in whole, from the foul water I 
 drank while crossing the portage from Sandusky Bay 
 to the mouth of Carrying River. 
 
 I was taken with vomiting and diarrhea in the 
 night, which continued till there seemed to be nothing 
 left in me for the disease to work upon. I took a paper 
 from the shelf containing tartar emetic and calomel, 
 left for a sick soldier, but which he refused to take, and 
 I swallowed the whole of it. It was designed for two 
 or three potions, and its operations were very severe. 
 Indeed, I have often since wondered that it had not 
 killed me at once. Its eifects were such that I could 
 neither stand nor sit up, but had to lie down on the floor 
 helpless, and could onl}- roll over and let the green bile 
 run out of my mouth, as thick as jelh^. Having an 
 iron constitution, by the blessing of God I weathered 
 the storm, and having a paper of Peruvian bark, which 
 was picked up while following the British up the 
 Thames, which, among other things, they threw awa}^ 
 to expedite their retreat, I used of it freely, and had 
 exceedingly good health the balance of mj^ time in the 
 army. 
 
 Our regiment and one company of artillery occupied 
 the fort. My company was detailed for artillery 
 service, it requiring the two companies to man the guns 
 
 13
 
 146 A WF.STKRN TIONKER. 
 
 niounled on ihe platrorms. Two of these wore assigned 
 to ine t<» «li'ill on. and Ijandio in case of action, witli a 
 eomplenu'nt (if men to man tlu-ni. Sii« h was the skill 
 and activity witl» wliicii our company iiiuKiled tlie guns, 
 we took the palm off the other company. ti»ongh lliey 
 were roi^ular artillerists. 
 
 AVe spent the Winter as best we couUl. We iuid to 
 procure our own wood, at least to send men to the w«K)d8 
 to chop it, while the public teams hauled it. When not 
 eni^aijed in this, or in drill or police duty, the men 
 amused themselves as the men of the world usually do, 
 fre<|uently in sinful amusements. My office, and the ex- 
 tra duties I performed in it, kept me pretty well em- 
 ployed ; for, in fact, I not only did ra}* own duty, but 
 much that helonffed to the Captain and f>ther officers of 
 the company to do. As is usual, the williiii:; horse is 
 apt to he overloaded or h:inl jnessed ; so it was with 
 me. The officers foun<l that 1 could do much that 
 belonged to them, and they left it for me to do. 
 
 Still I found considerable leisure time, and not feel- 
 ing disj)Osed to amuse myself as most did, I read my 
 Bible, and such other books as I could get hold of 
 In the pursuit of the enemy up the Thames many 
 books, among them some religious books, that were 
 thrown away were picked up by our men. In the lot 
 were some >fethodist l)ooks, indicating that there were 
 some of that sort among the British soldiers, and those 
 who had tiu-m not having a taste for such reading, and 
 knowing nu» to be a Methodist, gave them to me, which 
 1 gladly accepted and i-t-ad. 
 
 Whilt- on till' nianh 1 had seldom the opportunity — 
 though 1 sometimes succeeded in it — of formal, secret 
 ])rayer ; but in the fort, where regular camp duty ha<l 
 to bo performed, it was my duty to see that every man 
 was in his quarters at tattoo, 9 o'clock, P. M., after 
 which I retired behind the huts, and at the breech of a
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 147 
 
 cannon lia<l a time and place for secret prayer. There 
 my soul was often greatly refreshed from the presence 
 of the Lord. 
 
 As the Spring of 1814 opened, new scenes of warlike 
 life occurred. Eeports were rife that General Drum- 
 mond was coming to retake Detroit and Maiden, if he 
 could, and every preparation for defense was made; 
 but among the real there were some ludicrous events 
 connected with this alarm and preparations for defense, 
 and some that proved the truth of the old adage, that 
 "there is policy in war." 
 
 The British were gathering, in force, on the head of 
 the Thames, threatening a descent upon us at Detroit. 
 A flag-officer came to our head-quarters on some busi- 
 ness, real or pretended, and while there, a regiment of 
 Pennsylvania Militia, wiiose term of six months' service 
 had expired, demanded their discharge. No arguments 
 or patriotic persuasions could induce them to remain 
 till another regiment that was to relieve them should 
 arrive. Their time was out, and go they must, and go 
 they w^ould, and go they did. Means were taken to 
 have them leave the place by a back way, and not to 
 pass by the window w^here the flag-officer was quar- 
 tered — being head-quarters — but no, they w^ere free 
 men now, and they would go where they pleased, and 
 the whole regiment w^ent by, and in sight of the officer, 
 in an unarmed and helter-skelter manner. 
 
 This must be counteracted, or the officer might make 
 such a report to his chief, as would induce an. immedi- 
 ate attack upon us. To do this, the Seventeenth Regi- 
 ment of Infantry, whose quarters were outside, and east 
 of the fort, just about sundown shouldered their guns 
 and knapsacks and moved stealthily round back of the 
 fort, and down toward Spring Wells ; and then marched 
 up the load by the head-quarters, straggling along as if 
 greatly fatigued, from a long and hard march. It was
 
 148 A wi.siKKN i'I()m:i:r. 
 
 bci^iniiin*^ to bo dark, s(^ tliat tlu'V couM not Ito scon 
 distinftiy from the window of tho olti( fi*. t<» enabk* liiin 
 to form an opinion of tlu-ir niiinhcr; Imt llie lino 
 stretolu'd aloni; tor lialf a niik-, or more. 
 
 As the head of the column came up hy the gate, at 
 head-quarters, Colonel Croghan, by order of* Colonel 
 Hutler, who was in command, went out to and con- 
 versed with the officer in command of the new-comers, 
 to receive his report. Alter talking sometime, while 
 the column was straggling along by, the new officer 
 leaned against the fence, as if greati}' fatigued from the 
 long march. 
 
 In the mean time the door of the flag-officer's room 
 was purposely left ajar, so that he could hear what was 
 said in the hall between the two Colonels. When 
 Colonel Croghan came in, he reported to Colonel liutler 
 that the troops just passing were under command of 
 
 Major ; that they were the advance of General 
 
 's Brigade of Ixegulars. who would roach there the 
 
 next day; that this advance li:i«l made a forced march 
 of thirty-six miles that day. on account of the Militia's 
 leaving, of which they had learned by the exj»res8 >ent 
 them, thinking possibly they might be needed, etc. 
 
 All this reached the flag-officer's ear at nightfall. 
 The next morning he was hoodwinked and j)ut across 
 the river, and led some distance — too far ofl' to see any 
 thir.g of the force or fortifications of the place — when 
 he was let loose with a flea in his e:ir. Hut it had its 
 desired and designed ei^oet ; for the enemy kept at a 
 respectful distance, and made no attack. 
 
 This event raised a question in my mind, as to 
 whether a lie was Justifiable in any case. If so, cer- 
 tainly this is the kiiul of case to justify it: for it is 
 ]n-obable tluit this well-eoiuoetod lie. and the :idmiiaiiie 
 manner m which it was carrii'tl out, saved many lives, 
 and pos.-sibly the ))lace from capture. /
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 149 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 DUEING the suspense about this expected attack, 
 a most ludicrous scene occurred at the little fort 
 in Sandwich, in sight of Detroit. Colonel Gratiot, the 
 Chief Engineer, had condemned some powder, taken 
 from the British in the previous campaign, and gave 
 it out to the artillery to drill with, the burning of 
 which was great sport for us. We must have fired 
 two hundred blank cartridges or more. 
 
 On the morning of the same day, Captain Puthuff, 
 who was in command at Sandwich, sent out a couple 
 of men to the woods, back of the toAvn and farms, to see 
 if there were any signs of Indians. About noon one of 
 them came in, in great agitation, and without hat or 
 gun. and said the woods were full of Indians, who had 
 fired upon them, and he supposed that his comrade was 
 killed, as he had seen nothing of him since the firing. 
 
 This, of course, on the heels of the rumor of attack, 
 confirmed the idea, and the little garrison was put in 
 the best possible state of defense. The gate was 
 barricaded ; the pickets strengthened ; the block-house 
 and cannon supplied with amunition, and the men's 
 cartridge-boxes filled, and all awaited the attack. And 
 while thus waiting, the firing commenced at Detroit. 
 This, of course, confirmed the idea of an attack. And 
 as it had begun at the main fort, the lesser ones would 
 soon share in the general melee. 
 
 We first fired eight or ten rounds on the west and 
 south angles of the fort, and then went to the north 
 and east angles, and fired as many more ; the long 
 eighteen -pounder on the south-east bastion keeping up 
 fire all ihe time, making some twenty rounds for that
 
 V)0 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 gun. There being some twenty guns in all, from six 
 thirty-two poundorB, and half of them being fired as 
 fust as posttibhe, at a time there was a great thundering, 
 and clouds of smoke. The inhabitants of the town, 
 who were not informed of the nature of the case, were 
 also alarmed, 8upi)osing that an attack had been n»ade. 
 
 The officers and uwu at Sandwich hearing the roar, 
 and seeing the smoke, had no doubt of an attack, and 
 when they saw the firing commence on the south and 
 west angles, presumed that tlie attack was made upon 
 that side; when the tiring ceased in that direction, and 
 began in the other, they concluded that we had rcj)elled 
 the enemy on that side, and was rej)elling them on the 
 other; and when the firing ceased, and the smoke had 
 blown away so that they could see our flag yet at the 
 staflf, they concluded that we were victors. Being anx- 
 ious to know how the battle went, they let an officer 
 and some men down over the pickets to cross the river 
 and make the inquiry. 
 
 On reaching head-quarters, which was on the bank 
 of the river, the officer iiKjuired how the battle went? 
 
 "What battle?" 
 
 " Why, at the fort." 
 
 "We have had no battle there." 
 
 "Why, what was the firing for?" 
 
 "O, Colonel Gratiot gave out some condemned pow- 
 der for the men to drill with, in l)lank." 
 
 Tlie officer could hardly credit it ; and yet dared not 
 question it. He stated the report of the scout, an hour 
 or two ])el()re, on the other side of the river. This, in 
 turn, j)ro<luce(l some uneasiness with the officers in com- 
 mand. But the messenger began to suspect that they 
 were badly sold, and returned home in that state of mind. 
 
 Belbre he got home the other soldier returned from 
 the wcMxls, walking leisurely, and whistling some merry 
 air. On his coming within hailing distance, every man
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 151 
 
 that could be, was on the pickets, and some were call- 
 ing to him to know something of his hair-breadth escape. 
 A ladder was let down over the pickets for him to get 
 within on, and he expressed his surprise at the change 
 of things since he left in the morning. 
 
 On entering the fort, the officers inquired of him 
 about the Indians. 
 
 "I have seen no Indians nor any signs of them," 
 was the repl}'. 
 
 "Were you not fired upon by Indians?" 
 
 "No, sir. There were some Frenchmen out there 
 shooting at game, but not at me." 
 
 "Well, what became of your comrade?" 
 
 " I do n't know. He disappeared soon after we got 
 into the woods, and I have not seen him since." The 
 coward, it seemed, was frightened at the firing of the 
 Frenchmen, supposing them to be Indians. But he 
 was arrested and put into the guard -house, charged 
 with cowardice and lalsehood. The gate was oj^ened, 
 and when the officer returned from head-quarters, and 
 reported the nature of the firing, they all felt that they 
 had been badly sold, by the cowardice of the fright- 
 ened soldier. 
 
 As my term of service was about to expire, the offi- 
 cers of my regiment began to take measui-es to re-en- 
 list me for the war ; one was deputed to wait on me 
 and propose that if I would re-enlist, I should be made 
 sergeant-major of the regiment, and all the officers 
 would sign a recommendation of me to the President, 
 for a lieutenancy ; and, further, in case of my promotion, 
 of which they had no doubt, they would make up a 
 purse to buy me a sword and suit of uniform. 
 
 I informed the officer that I had been disappointed 
 once, and might be again ; I had exj)ected that merit 
 would be rewarded in the army. My merit had been 
 acknowledged and promotion promised, but it had not
 
 152 A WESTKKN PIONEER. 
 
 conu'. and I sliouM trust to uncertainties no longtr. If 
 I luul been proujoted wlien it was proniiscMl, or evon 
 then, if a commission were tendered to me, I might ac- 
 cept it, and continue during tin- war, if 1 lived. But 
 as it was, I could do without Incle Sam as long as ho 
 could without me; and if he wanted me, it must not 
 be under officers whose abilities were greatly inferior 
 to my own. as I had been. This was admitted, and 
 also, that I ought to h:ive liad precedence of any offi- 
 cer in the company in which I came out. all of whom 
 had now left and gone home. 
 
 15ut I had reasons for going home that I did not 
 state. I had promised God, if he would spare me to 
 the end of my term, I would ntmn home and give 
 mysrlf to the work to which he had called me. I 
 thought, probably, lie had controlled, and prevented 
 my promotion, lest if it had occurred, the inducement 
 to remain in the service might be too strong for resist- 
 ance ; as it was, 1 took my discharge and went home. 
 
 I took passage for Cleveland on a small schooner of 
 some twenty tons, with a dozen other tlischarged sol- 
 diers. She had no loading, nor ballast, except the pas- 
 sengers. The caj>tain wns an old salt-water sailor, 
 who, though American boin, had been j)ressed into 
 the British navy, and had been there fourteen yeai-s. 
 When the war broke out he was in London, and went 
 to his British caj)tain and said that he could not tight 
 against his country, and surrendered himself a pris- 
 oner of war. This the captain said he could not accept; 
 he had been too good a sailor. " Hut," said he, " take 
 a furlough for fourteen days, and go ashore and rest 
 yourself" This was understood to be a hint to clear 
 himself. Being then in London, he went at once to 
 the American C'onsul, and was received as a j)risoner, 
 and thus found his way honie. lie, not returning at 
 the end of the fourteen days, was, of coui-se, put down
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 153 
 
 a deserter. On this account he dared not enter the 
 army or navy, lest, if the fortune of war should place 
 him in the hands of the British, he should be hung or 
 shot for desertion. He, therefore^ was in the merchant 
 service, and on Lake Erie, where there was no danger 
 of being captured by his old masters. 
 
 We left Maiden at nightfall. The wind blew a stiff 
 gale from the west, which was a little abaft of the beam, 
 and kept the little bark in the troughs of the seas, and 
 made her roll heavil3^ This made the only hand and 
 all the passengers, exce]jt myself, sea-sick, and the cap- 
 tain and myself had to run the vessel alone; we ran 
 from Maiden to Cleveland in twenty-two hours, the 
 shortest passage that then had ever been made. My 
 sailorship attracted tlie attention of the captain, and 
 he offered me forty dollars a month to go as his mate 
 on a larger vessel that was then being built for him, 
 and would soon be read}'. This was something of a 
 temptation; but the convictions of duty, in another 
 direction, prevented m}' acceptance of the offer. 
 
 I left my trunk and clothing at Cleveland, and went 
 home on foot, where I got a horse, and returned for my 
 baggage, conveying it in bags, after selling m}^ trunk. 
 Wheels in that country were then out of the question 
 out of town, except for road wagons with heav}- teams. 
 
 On the first Sabbath after m}' retui«, I souglit the 
 house of God and his place of worshij), and met my 
 brethren in a prayer and class meeting, and attended 
 the circuit preaching, which was now moved, so as to 
 be about eight miles from home, which I had to travel 
 on foot. 
 
 I had now to meet another trouble. I had been to 
 the war, and some thought that fighting and praying 
 were incompatible with each other. The views then 
 entertained on this subject were very different from 
 those now prevalent. Most people seemed to think
 
 154 A WKSTEKN PIONEER. 
 
 that no man oould bo a Christian a!id be a soldier. 
 I*r<)bably one i^real reason wh}' such views obtained 
 was, that tlic Federal party was then numerous, and 
 Opposed the war, and so thoui^ht l)adly of tliose en- 
 gaged in it. 
 
 I met the objections against me by referring to the 
 wars of the Israelites, winch were entered into by com- 
 mand of God, and their victories were regarded as a 
 Divine favor and proof of Divine approbation. I re- 
 ferred also to the Revolutionary war; to Wavshington's 
 praying at Valle}' Forge, when friend Pitts found iiim 
 on his knees, and advised them never to thank God fur 
 giving us fieedom and then oppose the means he 
 blessed for that purpose. 
 
 When asked how I could pray for my enemies, and 
 then shoot them, I related the anecdote of the deacon 
 in Connecticut, in IBKi. when the British were march- 
 ing up to burn the shii)ping at Middletown. The mi- 
 litia was called out en inasse^ the deacon among the 
 rest, to defend their property- and their homes. lie 
 cleaned up his old musket, and marched with others 
 to the field. They were drawn up in line behind a 
 stone fence or wall, and when the eneni}' came within 
 range, an<l the word was given to fire, he leveled his 
 gun and took deliberate aim, and pra^'ed, " God have 
 mercy on your souls, while I kill your bodies!" and 
 fired upon those who were aiming to kill him. The 
 result was, the enem}' was defeated, anil returned to 
 tlieir shipping without doing the intended damage. 
 
 Some of my enrniit's tried to make good their ])re- 
 dictions thai I would backslide in the aiinv, as many 
 others lia<l done, and sought for the i-vidence fiom my 
 neighbors, who were messmates with me in the army. 
 But in this they failed, and not only faiU'd. ])iil met 
 with very rough repulses from them for attempting to 
 injure au innocent man because he had defended his
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 155 
 
 countiy, and them with it. It had to be admitted that 
 I had sustained my Christian character unsullied, and 
 came home unscathed by the corruptions of the camp. 
 
 My license to exhort, which had not been renewed 
 while I was in the army, the quarterly conference not 
 knowing what the result would be, was now renewed, 
 and I pursued ray wonted course in holding religious 
 meetings. But when I spoke of license to preach, some, 
 and especially those of the Federal party in politics, 
 renewed the objection that I had been to the war, and, 
 as they thought, it must be that I had been, like most 
 others in the army, wicked. Some objected that I had 
 not been to college, nor had a liberal education. Such 
 Methodists were half Congregationaiist, or Presbyte- 
 rian — the dominant sects at that time, in that country. 
 
 After returning home, and re-entering upon relig- 
 ious duties, I was again convicted of the necessity of 
 sanctification, the evidence of which I had lost, in 
 Connecticut, when brother Emery bluffed me off about 
 preaching. I now felt the necessit}' of regaining that 
 evidence, and sought it as before. In October, 1814, 
 God, in mercy, bestowed it upon me. I now felt 
 stronger to bear up under my trials and the opposi- 
 tions I met with. 
 
 In December of that 3^ear, I was recommended by 
 my chiss for license to preach ; but not being able, from 
 the distance, to attend the quarterly conference to pass 
 an examination, the matter was laid over till the next 
 quarterly-meeting, which was to meet within six miles 
 of my residence. Accordingly, on the 15th of April, 
 1815, I attended the quarterly-meeting, where Jacob 
 Young was presiding elder. I went with a forlorn 
 hope. If I was rejected again it seemed to me that 1 
 must die, that I could not hold up any longer, but must 
 sink and give up in despair. 
 
 What added to my fear was, that a brother Jones, a
 
 15G A WKSTKKN PIONEER. 
 
 .sti'Wanl, aiul an infliu'iitial man in tlie eonftTenee, linv- 
 ini; a Presbyterian wife, and trreatly influeneed hy her 
 in liis views about an iducatcd ministry, was opposed 
 to me. IJut, as a ^'ood Provi<lenee would liave it, lie 
 was ealled away from liome on tluit da}' to a regimental 
 traininir, he bein^ an officer in the militia. If he had 
 been at home, when the meetin<; was held, he wouhl 
 liave opposed me, as he afterward told me, and if he 
 had done so, the conference would not have licensed 
 me. 1 knew, also, that the presiding elder was opposed 
 to mo because, as he thought, I was too fast in asking 
 for license. He thoui^ht that youn^ men should wait 
 till they were called, or rather dra«^ged out, and not he 
 ><) forwaid as to ofter themselves for the work. 
 
 But why my mind should be so deeply and irrev- 
 ocably ini))ressed that it was my duty to preach, and 
 he so intiinalei}- blended with my religious enjoj'mcnt, 
 and yet Providence not openini^ the way for me to do 
 it, when I was willinii: ^'"^^ desired to do so, because I 
 felt it to be my duty, was a myster}' too deej) for me 
 to solve. 
 
 I went before the conference, and bi-other Young 
 })Ut me through so thoroui^hly, and I answered him so 
 much better than ho anticipated, that his oj)j)Osition 
 I)artially dropped. Some of my friends in the confer- 
 ence ui-ged the matter so strongly that I was licensed to 
 preach the Gospel in the Methodist Ejtiscopal Church, 
 and I trust that neither the Chui'ch nor the world is 
 any the worse for it, but. allowing others to judge, 
 the better. 
 
 This (piarterly-meeting was held in Hartf(»i{l. at the 
 liurg, so ealled, near the line <d' Vernon, Trumbull 
 (Munty, Ohio, where 1 had some warm friends, and 
 who invited me to preach for them, whiclj I did fre- 
 quently, with profit to myself and apparent benefit to 
 them. Brother Jones heard me sometimes; but, hav-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 157 
 
 ing agreed to accompan}^ liis wife to her meeting half 
 the time, he was not a constant hearer, as were the 
 other brethren. 
 
 It so happened on one of my visits to that class, in 
 September, 1815, five months after I was licensed, that 
 a good sister died in peace, on the day I was there. 
 Her connections were mostly Presbyterians, and were 
 numerous and respectable, though her husband was a 
 Methodist; 3'et, to gratify her connections, a Presby- 
 terian minister was preferred to preach her funeral 
 sermon. Possibly, if one of our circuit ministers had 
 been at command, he might have been invited to do it. 
 But neither the circuit minister nor the Presbyterian 
 minister was to be had. It was '-Hobson's choice," 
 me or none; and I remained in the place till the next 
 day, for that purpose. 
 
 The Methodists had their fears for the result, and I 
 suppose prayed the more earnestly. The Presbyteri- 
 ans, who were the dominant sect, at the time, seemed 
 to think that a sermon on such an occasion from one 
 of their ministers, would be of great advantage to the 
 departed spirit, and appeared to have worse forebod- 
 ings. I could but view it as providential, myself, and 
 prayed for divine aid, and a blessing upon the people, 
 that they might be satisfied that I was called of God 
 to the work. 
 
 The effort proved a successful one. One of my best 
 friends, a brother in the Church, told me afterw^ard, 
 that he trembled with fear, and washed one of the 
 circuit preacliers had been there, for the sake of our 
 cause, the character of which was in some measure at 
 stake with outsiders. But when I was fairly under 
 way, he said his fears subsided, and before I had 
 finished he said he would not have exchanged me for 
 either of the others. This, of course, was as balm to 
 my afllicted soul ; and this, with the apparent satisfac-
 
 li)8 A WESTKKN PIONKKR. 
 
 tion of tlic audience, who listened with a death-lilve 
 stillness and attention, gave me great eneounigfnient. 
 
 Hut all this fell below the gratifieation 1 felt when 
 brotlier Jones, who had opposed me so lon^. took me 
 by the arm as wo left the grave, and said I must go 
 home with him, and declared his Hatist'aetion at my 
 beini,' licensed, and tendered me his house, as a home, 
 when in that region. From that time forward, he was 
 my last and faithful friend, while 1 remained in that 
 count r}'. 
 
 In February, 181G, 1 had business that called me to 
 Connecticut. Not having a horse, or the means to buy 
 one, I traveled the distance, betweeri six and seven 
 hundred miles, on foot; the roads being in the worst 
 ]>ossible condition, being either muddy or frozen into 
 rough points and knobs. On my way 1 spent a Sab- 
 bath in Carlisle, the place of my conversion, and 
 preached in their newly built church, the old one, so 
 dear to me, having been sold and demolished, or con- 
 verted into a dwelling-house. 
 
 From thence 1 went through Ilarrishurg and head- 
 ing, to Kaston, on the Delaware Hiver, and up it to 
 Millord. IMke county, Penn., to visit my oldest sister, 
 the wife of Rev. B. Weed, then a local preacher at that 
 l)lace. Here I spent a few weeks pleasantly, and 
 formed some useful aequaintanees. and learned some 
 incidents characteristic of early ^letliodism. 
 
 A brotlii-r l)oulittle gave me an account of his con- 
 version in this wise: He was born and raised in the 
 Dutch Heformed Church. He was a blacksmith by 
 trade; married and settled on the Jersey side of the 
 river; but his wife proved to be an intolerable scold. 
 To avoid the continual clatter of her t()ngue. after leav- 
 ing his work at night, he resorted to the tavern, where 
 others spent their evenings, some to avoid a similar 
 caltwnity, and others from social inclinations.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 159 
 
 To occupy the room, and consume the fuel without 
 spending' any thing, seemed to be ungentlemanly, and, 
 of course, the drink must be called for; not to be 
 churlish, each one on each night must call for his share, 
 and to consume ail this, soon made regular topers and 
 then drunkards of them all. When he went home 
 under these circumstances, the storm became doubly 
 fierce, and to avoid it he often stayed out all night. 
 He was thus on the high road to ruin, and going it 
 with rapid strides; all because his wife was a scold. 
 This is but a sample of thousands of like cases. 1 pre- 
 sume more men have been ruined in this way, by the 
 scolding of wives, than from any other one cause. 
 
 But death appeared in his family, and took away a 
 lovely and beloved child. This aroused his reflections; 
 and he became awakened to a sense of his lost and 
 ruined condition, and resolved to flee from the wrath to 
 come, by the mercy and help of God. He forsook the 
 tavern ; but home afforded him no comfort. He would 
 not, he dared not return to the tavern, fur he saw noth- 
 ing but death to soul and body awaiting him there. 
 Desiring religious instruction, he went to the elder of 
 his Church, to know what he should do to be saved. 
 The elder told him that some years previous he had 
 lost a child, and becoming serious, he went to the 
 Dominie — as the minister was called — and related his 
 feelings. The Dominie put down his name on the 
 Church records, and not long afterward they elected 
 and consecrated him elder. 
 
 "Is this all of your experience?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Have you not been pardoned for your sins?" 
 
 " I don't know, but I hope so." 
 
 "Have you no evidence that God, for Christ's sake, 
 has forgiven 3'ou?'' 
 
 "No; we don't believe in that doctrine."
 
 160 A \vi:sti:kn imonkkk. 
 
 " Weil, tliiit won't do tor me: I must have forgivencBS 
 for my sin, or die and j^o to hell/ And leavini; the 
 chler to liis thouc^hts upon this subject, he wandered 
 about mourning and disconsolate. lie had heard of 
 the Methodists, but his prejudices, in common with 
 others, wlio foriiuMi their opinion trom hearsay, and not 
 from actual acquaintance, prevented his going to hear 
 tiiem. lie had heard his own minister, but received no 
 light or comfort to his troubled soul. He read his 
 I>il»le, which cut him to the quick; but how to claim 
 and apply the i)romi8es, ho knew not. 
 
 Jn this state of mind one Sunday morning, he pre- 
 ferred to retire to some lonely place for meditation and 
 prayer, rather than go to hear one whom he now 
 thought to be "the blind leading the blind. ' Aller 
 reaching a rather by-i)lace, on his way to the woods, ho 
 heard singing that seemed to charm and draw him to 
 tlie spot, which he found to be a Methodist meeting. 
 As he could find no relief in his own Church, and had 
 heard of the conversion of sinners among the Method- 
 ists, and being now out of sight of his Dutcli Eeformed 
 brethren, who he supposed would ridicule him if they 
 saw him at such a meeting; and withal being on the 
 borders of des[>air, he was ready to do any thing if 
 thereby he could obtain relief So he concluded that 
 it could not make his case any worse, and possibly it 
 might do him good. To stay where he was he must 
 die; to go in and hear them he could but die, and he 
 entered the house and took a seat. 
 
 The first hymn that was sung began: "Come ye 
 sinners, poor and needy," etc. Tins struck him with 
 mingled surprise and comfort. He thought within 
 himself: "How did they know the state of my mind?" 
 He had never heard it before. "Did they make it to 
 suit the occasion?" Be tlnit as it may, it suited his 
 case exactly, and jwinted him to a remedy so befitting
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 161 
 
 the circumstances of his case, that a feeble hope began 
 to rise in his heart that there was mercy for him yet. 
 
 The prayer that followed was of the same cast, and 
 he queried again in his mind, 'How do they knoAv 
 who I am, and how I feel? Who could have told 
 them?" But as the preacher went on in his prayer 
 for poor disconsolate sinners, for mourning penitents, 
 and for the laboring and heavy laden, he got his head 
 down' and wept, but dared not get on his knees, as the 
 others did, lest he should break over the order of his 
 Church at home. 
 
 After the praj'er, they struck up from memory, 
 no books appearing, 
 
 "0, bow happy are they 
 Who their Savior obey," etc. 
 
 This hymn expressed what he supposed a pardoned 
 sinner would feel, to which views he must have been 
 led by the Word and Spirit of God, for his Dominie 
 never taught such things in his preaching. When the 
 text was announced, "Come unto me all 3'e that labor 
 and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," he could 
 hardly control himself He never had read it, or heard 
 it in his Church ; or, if he had, he had never noticed it; 
 it had never struck his attention as it did now. He 
 would have suspected that it was made, or selected 
 from some book, for the occasion, if he had not seen 
 that it was read from the Bible. But the discourse was 
 the climax of his astonisliment ; that the preacher 
 should so exactly know, and describe, his feelings; and 
 when he pointed the trembling penitent to Christ, he 
 saw hope in his case. He had, by this time, lost his 
 prejudices, and almost thought the preacher was in- 
 spired; at least he concluded that God was with this 
 people, and in them. 
 
 At the close of the ptiblic service, class-meeting was 
 announced. This was a new kind of meeting to him; 
 
 14
 
 162 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 bui lie tliouijlit if it was of tlie same kind as the others, 
 he wanted U) have a part in it. He queried whether it 
 wa8 a puhlie or private nieelini,', but was soon relieved 
 from suspense by a cordial invitation for those who 
 were seeking religion to staj'. The speaking went 
 on as usual, one and another telling how they were 
 awakened, and how they felt when under conviction of 
 sin, and how happy they were when forgiven, and were 
 still happy in striving to serve God, in wljich sweet 
 employment they intended to live and die. 
 
 All this so completely described his feelings then, 
 and his desires for the future, that he could no longer 
 contain himself, but broke out, in the anguish of his 
 soul, and said, "I am that very sinner you have sung 
 to, prayed fbr, and preached to, and I want to feel as 
 you do. How you knew the state of my case I do not 
 know, but you have described it exactly ; and now I 
 want you to pray lor me, that I may be as happy as 
 you are." This, of course, the}' did, and he was soon 
 converted, and made happy in the love of God. 
 
 From this he went home, happy in God, and not in 
 the least ashamed to own that ho had been to Method- 
 ist meeting, and that God had forgiven his numerous 
 and great sins. He was assailed b}' his Dutch Re- 
 formed brethren for turning Methodist, and leaving the 
 Church of his fathei*s; but he repelled them by stating 
 the facts of the case, and assuring them that while with 
 them he was on the way to hell, and that, unless they 
 sought and tbund peace with God, they would all go to 
 hell together, Dominie and all. His conversion was the 
 means of awakening his wife, who soon found jiardon, 
 and was ettectually cured of her scolding, and they 
 wore a happy family. She now met him with a smile, 
 and home was sweet to him. 
 
 While here 1 was informed of another characteristic 
 incident, which occurred not far olV. A i)rcacher, in
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. lOG 
 
 discoursing upon sin, so described the case of a man in 
 the audience, that he became very angry. He said, on 
 retiring, "Some one has told that man all that I evei 
 did in my life, and here he has been twitting mo with 
 it, before all the people," and he wouldn't go to hear 
 him again. Some tried to convince him that no one 
 told the preacher; that he had only guessed at it. 
 " Ko," said the man, "he couldn't guess so straight as 
 that;" and, as the preacher was not acquainted with 
 him, he knew that some one must have told him. 
 But, finally, after much persuasion, he agreed to go 
 once more, and see if he could guess so well again. 
 The next discourse was upon sin, as the other was, with 
 the addition that some were ashamed of their sins, and 
 would be angry if they were told of or reproved for 
 them. "There," said the man to his friend, "I told 
 you so; some one has told him not only the first, but 
 the last; and I won't go to hear him any more;" and 
 80 left it, that the informant, whoever he might be, 
 might tell the preacher that he would not be in attend- 
 ance ; but he intended to be there secretly, and see if 
 he could then tell so exactly about him. Accordingly, 
 he went earl}-, it being at night, and hid himself behind 
 the door, so as not to be seen. The congregation gath- 
 ered ; the service commenced, and went on as usual. 
 The text that night was, "Woe to them that cover 
 themselves with a covering, but not of my Spirit, that 
 they may add sin to sin." The preacher described the 
 sins of men; how ashamed they were of them; how 
 angry they would be if told of or reproved for them ; 
 and to avoid an exposure, would hide, and skulk round, 
 under some covering, but not of the Lord ; they would 
 make pretenses to goodness, be hypocritical, and dis- 
 semble their true characters. After thus explaining the 
 text, he exhorted the sinner to abandon such pretenses, 
 and repent before God, and not vainly try to cover his
 
 164 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Kins iji Kuob a way; and, finally, extlaimcMl, -Siimer, 
 come out from behind your lurking place, for God will 
 find you out, and bring you to judi^monl." At this 
 the man sprang out from behind the door, and smiting 
 liis fists together, said, "You are a devil; 1 know 3-ou 
 are, or you would n't have known that I was here." 
 
 This took both preacher and people all aback, i'or 
 they had heard nothing of the man ; only the few that 
 he had spoken to. The preacher assured the man that 
 he knew nothing of him. "Ah, but some one has told 
 you all about me, and you have exposed me before all 
 the people; or else you are a devil, and know these 
 things." "No," said the preacher, "neither the one 
 nor the other; but the Spirit of God is enlightening 
 your mind as to your sins;" and pointed him to Christ 
 as his Savior. The man, becoming satisfied of the truth 
 of this exj)osition, 3'ickU'd to his convictions, and sought 
 and ibund peace with (oxl. 
 
 From Miltbrd I wml to a ((iiarlirly-meeting at 
 Sugar-Loaf; and thence, by JIavcrstraw, to Sing Sing, 
 to visit the tomb of my father, attir an absence of ten 
 3'ears. Another day bi-ought nie to Danbury. to see 
 my mother. Great cliaiiges had occurred among the 
 people. The young had changed more than the old. 
 The older people looked more natural than the younger 
 ones. I could not have supposed that the youth, in 
 three and a half years, could have so changed that I 
 scarcely knew them. But what struck me as the most 
 singular, and yet impressive and suggestive, was the 
 fact, that when I left that place f)r the West they 
 seemed to have given me up, as if gone to the si)irit 
 world ; and on meeting me now, would ask a few ques- 
 tions about New Connecticut, as tliey would of an appa- 
 rition from the spirit world, and then pass on, as if I 
 had been dead, an<l only casually came back for a short 
 visit. It wiis u faet that when we parted before, we did
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 165 
 
 not expect to meet again in this world; and this, I sup- 
 pose, caused the apparent feeling above described. No 
 one but my mother and brothers seemed to be glad to 
 see me, or acted as if I was 3'et an inhabitant of this 
 world. 
 
 From Danbury I went to Bridgeport to see my 
 wife's relations, and found that the business that had 
 called me to the place was a failure, and I had my long 
 journey and back for nothing. While at Bridgeport 
 and vicinity I preached a few times to my old class- 
 mates, friends, and outsiders. The Methodists had just 
 got possession of the old Stratfield meeting-house, of 
 which I have spoken before, and in it I preached to the 
 people of the place. Leaving this I returned home to 
 Ohio, by nearly the same route b}' which I went East. 
 
 In the class to which I belonged in Ohio was a 
 brother who emigrated from the Susquehanna Eiver, 
 near the line between Pennsylvania and New York, 
 who told me of an incident that occurred in that region 
 at the introduction of Methodism there. 
 
 "The wonderful and fearful stories that frightened 
 many in those days, were repeated with additions to 
 suit the tastes of the reporters. The word went out 
 that 'the Methodists have come, and they tell the 
 people all they ever did in their lives; and not only so, 
 but they throw people down and convert them, whetherr 
 they want to be converted or not.' There was in the 
 place a Quaker couple, who had no children, but a good 
 deal of money, so that one or the other had to stay at 
 home to prevent a robbery. The woman nad heard 
 these stories about the Methodists, and believed them. 
 She had a strong desire to go and hear for herself, buL 
 feared the throwing down and conversion, and therefore 
 wished her husband to accompany her for a protection 
 from such a calamity. 
 
 "The husband would not believe the reports; but
 
 166 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 the wife insiste<i tliat it must be 80, for pikIi and Buch 
 women Imd told lier that the preacher had told ihein 
 of all tlicir nins, and told tlicm of sins tliat they were 
 confident no mortal but themRelvcfl knew any thin^ 
 about; and, further, they had seen people fall down an 
 if dead, an<l when they came to, were converted and 
 professed to be exceedingly happy. And she believed 
 them and wanted to go and sec and hear for licreelf, 
 but dare<l not go alone for fear of conversion. 
 
 'The husband not believing the Btorj*, declined 
 going; but she insisted, and urged till he finally con- 
 sented. Now another difficulty occurred : what should 
 they do with their money? Where' should they hide 
 it so that no one should rob them while gone? After 
 consultation, they put it in an old earthen pot and 
 })laced it ill the cellar amon^ some rubbish, where no 
 one would think of looking lor money, and went to 
 hear the strange preacher. 
 
 " The text was the parable of the feast, ' Conn*, for all 
 things are now read^' ; and they all began, with (tne 
 accord, to make excuse,' etc. After explaining the 
 feast, and the invitation to sinners to come :in<l par- 
 take of it, he spoke of the excuses naniecl in the 
 parable, and enlarged by enumerating other excuses 
 made by the sinner; and finally said, 'And some people 
 have so much money they dare not go to meeting, for 
 fear somebody may rob them while they are gone. 
 Even if they do go, they will hide it in some place 
 w^here they think no one will be likely to find it; 
 it ma}' be down cellar, in an old earthen-pot or 
 something.' 
 
 ''At this the woman sprang to her feet, and clasp- 
 ing l»er hands together, exclaimed, 'Good God, did you 
 ever hear the like of that!' and. ]>ointi!ig to her hus- 
 band, said, 'Didn't 1 tell you so?' She thought surel}'^ 
 he knew all al>out it, and where the money was, and
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 167 
 
 all they had to do was to watch him, lest, if disposed, 
 he might go and get it. But- this, like all other such 
 cases, proved to be the beginning of their awakening, 
 which ended in their conversion." 
 
 I continued my reading and preaching. One of the 
 best books I had then found, except the Bible, was 
 Benson's Sermons. This I read and studied effectually. 
 It contains a good bod}^ of divinity in itself, and was 
 of great use to me. My daily labor was necessary to 
 my subsistence, and having appointments most of the 
 time on Sunday, from six to nine miles from home, 
 and having these distances to travel on foot, through 
 the mud or snow, to go and come, and preach twice 
 and meet class on the same day — which was the custom 
 among Yankees — I had onl}' evenings to read, and not 
 always having candles, I made light wood fires to read 
 hy. Friends increased, and I felt encouraged. 
 
 In the Summer of 1816, at the last quarterly-meet- 
 ing before the Ohio Annual Conference for tliat 3'ear, 
 I offered myself to the presiding elder, Jacob Young, 
 for the itinerancy, but was again rejected; not, how- 
 ever, in the bluff manner of brother Emery, but in a 
 tender and fatherl}' manner. The reasons he assigned 
 were, that having a family I could not get a support 
 on any circuit in my reach, and would be compelled to 
 locate in a few years poorer than I tiien was, and 
 probably in debt, and he could not think of calling men 
 into the work under such circumstances, and therefore 
 advised me to remain awhile till times got better; in 
 the mean time to continue my reading and preaching, 
 and be thus prepared for greater usefulness when the 
 way for me did open. 
 
 At this mj' heart sunk again ; but as he was kind 
 and affectionate in his manner, and the reasons he gave 
 were of some force, I rallied as well as I could ; but not 
 without some strong temptations to give up the itin-
 
 168 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 LTuiuy and lull buck upon my original plan of life, and 
 Htudy and practice law, and preach as I could as a local 
 ])rcacher. I luid obtained some law bookH, and had 
 read some in them, and waH almost ready now to enter 
 upon the study for a life businesn; but my mind was so 
 PironjLcly led to the itinerancy, and something within 
 whispered so loudly that 1 jnnst itinerate, that I could 
 not possibly content myself in an}- thing else. At 
 other times in my gloom 1 thougiit of my trade, of 
 opening a shop and taking apprentices, etc. But the 
 same inward whisper would say, "You must travel, 
 and before you can teach apyjj^tioes, so as to be of 
 any profit to you, you will have to leave them, and lose 
 all your time and pains in their instruction, board," etc. 
 
 In my intercourse with the membership the ques- 
 tion was often put to me: "Why don't 30U travel the 
 circuit?" exi)ressing the opinion that I had gifts to be 
 useful in that way. This, of course, led to an explana- 
 tion of my ease, and an exjtression of a willingness to do 
 so whenever the way was o])eneil for me. When told 
 of the objection raised by brother Young, they de- 
 murred, and said they would receive me on that cir- 
 cuit — the one on which I lived — and give me a support ; 
 adding, that so far the}' hail only had single men. and 
 contributed lor their support accordingly, but if they 
 had married men, the}' would enlarge their means of 
 support according to the increase demanded. Four 
 years after, when two of us, and both married, were on 
 that circuit, we actually received a better support than 
 the single men did, pro rata, though in that time two 
 other circuits had been formed off the old one, thus 
 proving the correctness of the ]»osilion and argument 
 of the membership. 
 
 I learned afterward that brother Young thought 
 thai my offering myself for the work was an indication 
 i)\' forwardness, and that it was necessary to curb the
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. * 169 
 
 young steed, lest he run too fast. Tliis. to me, was 
 strange doctrine, for most of the preachers of that day 
 had been disobedient to the call of God, and had. as a 
 consequence, backslid, some of them two or three times 
 bffore they would j\e\d to a sense of duty; and in 
 many instances they would not, and did not yield to 
 obey God in this matter, until his severe chastening 
 providences had taken away property, health, child, 
 and even the wife of their youth. To think then that 
 willingness to obey God was wrong, or that rebellion 
 was a recommendation, was to me a strange doctrine. 
 I had supposed^tid I-^^et believe, as in the case of St. 
 Paul, obedience to the heavenly vision w^as the most 
 acceptable to God, and profitable to the soul, to the 
 Church, and to the world. 
 
 But things passed on in this way till midsummer, 
 1817. James B. Finley was now the presiding elder. 
 I had by this time extended my acquaintance over the 
 greater part of the circuit, which covered most of the 
 settled portion of the Western Eeserve, east of the 
 Cuj^ahogu Eiver. At the last quarterly-meeting for the 
 3'ear, in June, 1817, which was held in ^N^elson, in 
 brother Taylor's barn, beginning on Friday, on account 
 of much quarterlj'-conference business, which kept that 
 bod}' close for the whole of Saturday, I offered myself 
 again, but with no better success than before. I 
 should not probablj- have offered myself again, but 1 
 was pressed by the membership to do so; the same old 
 reasons of poverty in both myself and the cii'cuits be- 
 ing urged by the presiding elder. 
 
 But a little incident at the meeting, like a pebble on 
 the iron rails, joggled the car of opposition so as to ar- 
 rest the attention of the conductor. The quarterly con- 
 ference being in session in the house, the preaching 
 was done in the barn, and it fell to me to preach at 9 
 o'clock, A. M., on Saturday. My text was Eomans viii, 
 
 1.5
 
 170 A WESTKkN i'lONLKR. 
 
 28-30, on predestination. Calvinism yet retained it* 
 predominance in Yankeedom, of whicli this Ileservo 
 was the otlsprinix, and, of course, all were eyes and ears 
 to see and liear what tlie boy would do with the text, 
 and the doctrines which the Calvinists drew from it. 
 The result was f'avorahle for both nie and the cause of 
 Methodism in that region. 
 
 In the afternoon, when m}' case was before the con- 
 ference, the presiding elder being o])posed to me. and 
 seeking every ground he could to justify his ojjposilion, 
 raised the question of ability to preach. As none of 
 the officiary on the i»art of the circuit nearest my resi- 
 dence were present— ami those at this meeting being 
 in conference di«l not hear me — brother Finley called 
 in brother Taylor, who was an old Methodist from New 
 England, a man of intelligence, and a good judge of 
 preaching, doubtless expecting to hear some criticisms 
 that would favor his views of opposition. On asking 
 his opinion of the discourse that morning, the answer 
 was favorable — that it gave general satisfaction, etc. 
 But this answer was not such as the presiding elder 
 wanted just then, and ho pressed his inquiry as to the 
 witness's own views. '• Well, if that is what you want," 
 said he, "I must say it was by far the greatest sermon 
 we have hail at this meeting, and one of the best I 
 ever heard." 
 
 This j)ut a sudden stop to further iniiuiry on that 
 point, and the Conference was ready to vote my recom- 
 mendation to the Annual Conference. But the presid- 
 ing elder put in the old plea of the poverty of the 
 circuits, and their inabilit}' to support married men, 
 and said he could not advocate my reception at the 
 Conference if I was recommended. At this the quar- 
 terly conference dropped the subject, as of no use to 
 try for me. 
 
 Thus I was prostrated again, and went home trying
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 171 
 
 to be-rcconciled to mj fate, and forget, if possible, the 
 itinei-anc}', so far as to my connection with it. But 
 this was in vain. It seemed as if the stronger the 
 opposition, the stronger was the imj)ression and con- 
 viction of duty in that direction. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THERE w^as one thing in the history of our Church 
 in that region, at that period, which has not ap- 
 peared in j^i^iiit, and not at all to the credit of those 
 who controlled it. But as I was a sufferer under its 
 influence, I must, to give a faithful record of my life, 
 be excused for stating it. 
 
 As before iiinted, the Connecticut Western Eeserve, 
 or New Connecticut, lying in the north-eastern part 
 of Ohio, and wherein I resided, was settled mostly by 
 people from the New England States, or the descend- 
 ants of such from New York, all being called Yankees. 
 Presbyterianism had found its way here from Pennsyl- 
 vania, before the Congregational ministers from New 
 England had ventured that far from home. But w^hen 
 tlie latter took " missions to the heathen in the West," 
 they operated mostly among their own countrj^men, in 
 the rapidly rising settlements on the Eeserve. I never 
 knew of but two, out of the scores that came with such 
 commissions, that went far enough to see an Indian 
 wigwam. These missions afterward took the name of 
 "Home Missions," and served the incumbents as step- 
 ping-stones to a settlement, w^hen called by the people 
 to do so. 
 
 The Presb3^terians being in the advance, and some 
 Churches being organized under the economy of that 
 denomination, the Eastern missionaries fell in with it;
 
 17*2 A WESTERN IMONEEK. 
 
 nrui. ralluT juvliiTriiii^ that mode of Cliurch ^iA-ern- 
 nieiit MS boing nmre itHcicut lliaFi Coiigrcgatioiiallsm, 
 they perHiiadoil thiMr people to adopt it. An anani^f- 
 ment was entored into between the (ieneral As8enjl»ly of 
 tlic Pre.slnterian Churclj, and the (ieneral Association 
 of the Coni^regational Cljureh of Conneetieut. lliat any 
 of their ministers, misyionaries, or otliers. might be 
 installed, when called, as Presbyterians or Congrega- 
 tionalists, as the i)eople who called them might choose. 
 Under this airangement the Congregational ministers 
 from the New England States generally became Pres- 
 byterians on reaching Ohio. 
 
 Accordingly Presbyteries, and linally a Synod, was 
 Ibrraed ; and, as 'new divinity " had obtained gener- 
 ally among them, this Synod was the first to give 
 trouble to the General Assembly on this score. It was 
 the first, I believe, that was severed from the Assem- 
 bly on this ground, and when severed, many of the 
 Churches fell back upon the economy of their fathers, 
 and became Congregationalists again. 
 
 Methodism at that time, (1817.) and previous, had 
 but little foothold on the Reserve. The i)eople gener- 
 ally adhered to the forms, creed, and mode of worship 
 of their New England forefathers. A few Methodists 
 had emigrated from the East, and a few had come from 
 Maryland, Virginia, and Pennsylvania; but when all 
 these were put together, they bore but a snuill propor- 
 tion to the mass of the people. The Congregationalists 
 having long been "the standing order" in New En- 
 gland, they felt their dignity in their new homes, and 
 the Methodists were treated as intruders, and witii 
 much eontem])t. The first school-houses were built 
 before the Ohio school system was ado})led, and. of 
 course, by subscriptions and not taxes. As the settle- 
 ments were weak, a union of all parties was invoked 
 to help build, with the promise that the houses should
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 173 
 
 not onlj^ be for schools, but be free to all denomina- 
 tions to worship God in. As soon, however, as the 
 houses were finished, "the standing order" took pos- 
 session of them whenever they came along, to the ex- 
 clusion of others, and especially of the Methodists. 
 We learned that the freedom to worship for all denom- 
 inations meant that they all might do so, under the 
 government and control of '• the standing order;" and 
 when no minister of that order was present, in some 
 places the Methodists might occup}^ the house. In a 
 few, and a very few, places, where we had a society 
 and friends, we were allowed to occupy these houses 
 as of the first right. 
 
 TJnder these circumstances, our circuits and districts 
 being large, and the Churches being j^oor, and the sup- 
 port being small, the}' — the circuits — were supplied by 
 young and single men, from the lower part of Ohio 
 and from Kentucky. The prejudices of their education 
 were so strong against the Yankees that they regarded 
 the people as bordering upon the savage state, and, 
 when amono; them, treated them accordin^-lv. These 
 young men, after receiving their appointments at Con- 
 ference, would go home and visit their friends, and cal- 
 culate to reach their fields of labor, generall}^, just before 
 their first quarteri3'-meeting, and leave for a home visit 
 immediately after their fourth quarterly-meeting. ]^j 
 this mode of service the circuits were generally with- 
 out preaching for at least three months every 3'ear. 
 Some of our young preachers from the South and West 
 were the descendants of the Puritans, but had so im- 
 bibed the more Western feeling that they treated us 
 with but little more respect than did the others. 
 
 One of those young men was sent to the Chatauqua 
 circuit. He went clad in the coarsest and most shaggy 
 of cloth, called then bear-skin. A good sister, of con- 
 siderable refinement, asked him why he vvent thus clad?
 
 174 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 " We wish our preachers to look deeent, and thus com- 
 mand respect.' 
 
 '' Why," said lie, -'as my appoinlriuiit was in this 
 cold region, and jimonfj the Yankees, whom I supposed 
 to be near related to the bears and wolves, I thoui^dit 
 I would dress to suit the circumstances." 
 
 " O, brother, you need n't so despise the Yankees; 
 you may want a Yankee wife before you leave us." 
 
 "No, indeed; I'd as soon marry an Indian woman. ' 
 But before his second quarterly -meeting he at- 
 tempted to get a Yankee wife. Being i-ejected, ho 
 requested the presiding elder to change him to another 
 circuit, which was done, since his mind Avas so affected 
 as to injure him and his usefulness where he was. 
 
 Under these circumstances Methodism did, and 
 could, grow but little, until a change took place, and 
 preachers were raised up among us, or those sent to us 
 got married and made their homes there. When this 
 was done, they would stay on their work till just time 
 enough, by hard travel, to reach the seat of Confer- 
 ence ; and, when that was over, return as quick as 
 their horses could carry them. As soon as this slate 
 of things was inaugurated, Methodism began to rise 
 with rapid strides. Three ]>reachers, James M'Mahon, 
 Ira Eddy, and Ezra B(K)th, who came to us in a single 
 state, married in the country. As preachers in those 
 days who had wives, found it both convenient and 
 necessary to live near their wives' relations, from whom 
 they derived a jxjrtion of their support, these brethren 
 were fastened to the country. 
 
 I was the first married man who attempted to get 
 into tlie itinerancy from this region, and the first one 
 who did thus succeed. I had not only the plea of the 
 poverty of the circuit to meet, but also the prejudice 
 existing against the Yankees among the more western 
 j)ri'a(hers. Truth compels me to say, that not with-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 175 
 
 standing the many great and excellent qualities of 
 brothers Young and Finley, they were not altogether 
 free from the influence of this prejudice; and from 
 what then transpired, as well as from subsequent de- 
 velopments, I must say that I think this was a strong 
 element of the o])position to me, of those otherwise 
 excellent men of God. 
 
 On this circuit, on which I lived, then called Mahon- 
 ing, after the principal water-course in it, was a local 
 preacher, who bore the cognomen of '^ Deacon Crosby;" 
 he being a deacon in our Church. He was one of the 
 best and most pious men I ever knew. The worst 
 thing I ever heard of him was from an outsider, who 
 said that the deacon could not be a good man, for 
 every body spoke well of him, and quoted our Lord's 
 words, "\Yoe to you, when all men speak well of 
 you." 
 
 In conversation with the deacon, one day, on the 
 "falling exercises," so called, he related the following 
 remarkable case. He was preaching in the town of 
 Wayne, in a private house. A large fire had been 
 made of sugar maple, in a large back-woods fire-place, 
 and burned down to a large bed of live coals. There 
 was no special excitement in the congregation ; but 
 suddenly a young woman, sitting on the back seat of 
 three, made by laying boards on chairs — her bonnet 
 had been laid off, as is quite common when the meet- 
 ing is in a private house — sprang to her feet, and 
 jumped and shouted; two or three jumjjs carried her 
 over the two seats in front of her, and between persons 
 sitting on them; and after a few more jumps she fell 
 backward with her long hair, now dangling without 
 combs, on to that bed of coals, bringing her hair in a 
 heap under her head. 
 
 The deacon said a tremor went through his frame, 
 and he stopped preaching, exj^ecting to see her hair
 
 176 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 thwh into a blaze. Two or three men sprang to the 
 ^irl ami lilled her up, and he saw them, with his own 
 eyes, brush the live coals from her hair, and he, witli 
 <)thei-8, afterward examined lier hair, and they could 
 not discover a hair that was singed, lie supposed, of 
 (ourse, that those to which the live coals adhered 
 must be singed, but no mark of tire could be seen. At 
 the tiujc he told me this, he said there were yet living 
 in the neighborhood of the meeting, at least twenty 
 persons who were present at the time, and saw what he 
 had related. 
 
 Alter .seeing what I have heretofore recorded of such 
 exercises, without harm, as well as from the high char- 
 acter of the deacon, I was prepared to credit the story. 
 Indeed, I do not believe that any person who thus falls, 
 under the influence of the Good Spirit, could be injured 
 by fire or water, or by coming in contact with any 
 other substance. Skeptics, semi-skeptics, or those 'IJa- 
 lionalists" who reduce the works of God to their 
 capacity and understanding, may not believe in what 
 they can not comprehend; but nothing can be more 
 reasonable and philosophical, than that pei-sons under 
 the divine or supeinatural influence, would not, nay, 
 ( ould not, be hurt by it, or by any contact with other 
 -ubstances while their own volition is thus suspended. 
 
 Afler the Nelson quarterly-meeting, I tried again to 
 relieve my mind from this strong sense of duty to 
 travel and preach, but it was in vain. My mind wjxs 
 so exercised, and my feelings and spirit were so de- 
 pressed that a regular nervt)us ju-ostration, or hypo- 
 chondria, settled down upon me, and I could neither 
 work nor attend to other business, but was almost 
 jietrified in gltxnn and despair. 1 was sensible of my 
 situation, but una))le to .shake it ofl". 
 
 WIk'u I atttinpted to work, as soon as my thoughts 
 turned upon tlu' subject — and that was almost con-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 177 
 
 stantly — I believed, as firmly as I did in my existence, 
 that I was called of God to the itinerancy ; was willing 
 to obey God in this matter, and wishing to do so; but 
 my Avay was blocked up — not by the people, for they 
 now almost unanimously favored me in this matter, 
 but — by the ministers of God, who of all men living I 
 loved the most; not for the want of talents, for these 
 were accorded me, nor for any impeachment of Chris- 
 tian character, or conduct, but from an indescribable 
 and indefinable prejudice, growing out of a fear lest I 
 should go too fast — they deemed and construed my 
 willingness as proof of forwardness and self-conceit; 
 and, moreover, I was not born in some other part 
 of the earth besides New England — I say, that when 
 these thoughts came to my mind, which was almost 
 continually, my limbs lost their power to act; work, of 
 course, was suspended, and tears and nioans gave the 
 only relief 1 had, except what came from a conscious- 
 ness of my love to and peace with God, 
 
 While in this unpleasant state of mind, wishing for 
 some means by which to throw it ofl", I read in a news- 
 paper a cure for the hypochondria, said to be infiallible, 
 and it proved so to me. It was this : '• Take half a pint 
 of resolution, an ounce of common sense, and a 'few 
 grains of patience ; mix them well together, and when 
 a fit of this terrible disease comes on, swallow the 
 whole, and go to work." It struck me that resolution 
 was the principal ingredient in this recipe, and if so, I 
 would try it. I did so with good success. At first it 
 was like the man in the Gospel with the withered hand, 
 apparently without power to stretch it forth, but with 
 the effort came the strength to do so. Every succeed- 
 ing effort seemed to have more power in it until the 
 cure was effected, and the disease has never seriously 
 affected me since; though I have often been accused of 
 it by those whose eyes were affected by it.
 
 178 A WESTKkN IMUNKEK. 
 
 In the midst of these trialH and difficulties, it was 
 suir^ested to me to try lor an o|»ening in some other 
 CMiristian Churcli, but my feelingH revolted at the idea. 
 I was converted, called to preach, and sanctified among 
 the Methodists. Their doctrines, usages, models ol wor- 
 ship were in accordance with my experience, and my 
 views of Scripture, aided by my experience of the 
 divine operation on the human mind. I knew of no 
 other Church, then, who Hubscril)cd to those doctrines, 
 usages, and such experiences ; and above all, 1 knew 
 of no other Church that had, and' countenanced the 
 life an<l power of godliness as did the Methodists. The 
 only difficulty in my way, was in an erroneous opinion 
 of those who managed our Church affairs, which titno 
 and the j)rovidence of God might correct. 1 did not 
 doubt that there were Christians in other Churches, 
 but the greater helps found in the econom}' of Method- 
 ism would have made better ones of them. God had 
 made a Methodist ol" me, against the strong j)iejudices 
 of my early education, and I could feel at home in no 
 other communion, and there I resolved to live and die, 
 by the grace of God. 
 
 At the Annual Conference of 1817, D. D Davisson 
 and Ezra Hooth were sent to the circuit. They came 
 earlier than was usual, and had time to go round the 
 circuit once or twice bef«n"e the first (juarterly-niecting. 
 In so doing they had learned the state of Ict'ling in tiie 
 membei*ship in reference to me, and when brother Da- 
 visson came to my house, which wa.s then one of his 
 a]>jM)iiitmeiits, he sai<l lo !ne, as we were sealed at the 
 table: 
 
 '•Brother. \«»u <io n t look well. J suppose my 
 countenaiici' indicated this, from the depres.sed state of 
 my mind '1 think," said lie, "that traveling would 
 agree belU.4- with you than your trade, and the confiiie- 
 menl it requires."
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 179 
 
 "Traveling agrees with me very well, and I should 
 like to be engaged in it, if I could." 
 
 "Well, will you take a circuit?" 
 
 "I should be glad to do so; but my brethren think 
 1 am too poor to sustain myself, and the circuits are too 
 poor to sustain me." 
 
 "No, no,'' said he, "that is not so. Will you take a 
 circuit if I '11 get one for you?" 
 
 "I will, and be glad of the opportunitj- to do so." 
 
 He then said, "Our people, all round the circuit, 
 feel aggrieved at the way you have been treated in this 
 matter, and say they will not submit to it an}^ longer; 
 they demand a circuit for you; and if j'ou will take one 
 I will get one for you." 
 
 I attended the quarterly-meeting at Youngstown, 
 late in November. Brother Davisson had an interview 
 with brother Finley, the presiding elder, and told him 
 the state of feeling in m}' favor, and that I must be em- 
 ployed, or great dissatisfaction would exist on the cir- 
 cuit. The result was, that brother Finley gave me a 
 few appointments in Huron county. Ohio, which were 
 from one hundred and ten to one hundred and fifty 
 miles from home, through an almost impassable wilder- 
 ness. These appointments had been taken up just 
 before Conference, by a local preacher who was sent 
 out there to explore the country, and were attached to 
 the Cuyahoga circuit. But the preacher sent to Cuya- 
 hoga declined to go to them, having, as he said, work 
 enough without them. The prospects for a support 
 were not flattering, and, indeed, this had but little place 
 in my thoughts; it was the work I wanted, and I was 
 willing to trust in God, and the brethren, for the rest. 
 But having to close up m}- business, and procure a 
 horse and equipments, I could not get away from home 
 till the first week in January, 1818. 
 
 I was clad in homespun, the produce of ray while's
 
 180 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 industry. She had npiiii tlio wool, woven the cloth, and, 
 atUT till' (loth cMiin* from the fullers, made my «^ai-- 
 nients. My horse and e«|ui|)a^e were of tlie hnmblist 
 kind, though the best that 1 had means to procure. My 
 journe}' was through a country of whicli I had no 
 knowledge, mostly a dense forest. I reached what is 
 now" Medina county, bj' the Bouthern tier of towns on 
 the Keservc ; but finding no road further west, I turntd 
 north, through Piltsficdd, and traveled some thirty 
 miles before 1 could find a road leading to the lake 
 shore, west of Cleveland. Where fllyria now stands, 
 there being no bridge, 1 crossed the river on the ice. <jf 
 one or two nights' freezing, but I found it to be h'xx 
 inches thick, and. of course, safe. After crossing Black 
 Rivei-, on the Kidge Koad, I found a Methodist tamily, 
 by the name of Smith, whose house was one of my a})- 
 pointments. This place was one hundred and ten nnles 
 fi'om home, by the nearest route, but one hundied and 
 fifty by the road 1 had traveled. 
 
 My circuit extended from Black Kiver, along the 
 Ridge l^oad, by where Norwalk now stands, which was 
 hiid out in the Spring of 1818, to the little town ot New 
 Haven, and Irom thence, by a zigzag course, to San- 
 dusky Bay, at Venice and Portland, now Sandusky 
 City; thence through Perkins, east along the lake shore^ 
 to the place of beginning. I soon formed a four-weeks' 
 circuit of twent3'-four appointments, with two hundred 
 miles travel to comj)ass it. I }>reached the first sermon 
 ever preached in man}' places, and especially Sandusky 
 City, then containing but some iialf dozen houses. 
 
 At my first visit to New Haven there were about 
 thirty families in the village and the adjoining ct)untry. 
 Among thrm all tlu it was but one person wl»o enjoyed 
 religion; he was James M'Intirc, a local preachoi'. and 
 justice of the peace. I had sent on an ai)j>ointment to 
 be there on Friday night. There were seven prominent
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 181 
 
 men in the place wlio were public teachers of infidelity, 
 two of them distinguished j^hysicians, by the name of 
 Powers. There had been seven lawsuits before our 
 justice, in the week, so far, for assault and battery, 
 growing out of the use of whiskj-. One of the defend- 
 ants was a woman, who had whipped a man with a 
 b"idie, without just cause or provocation. 
 
 I stopped at the house of M'Intire's father, who, with 
 liis wife, had been Methodists, but were now without 
 mucli, if any, religion. As soon as I was well seated, 
 the old ladj' began to tell me the remarks that had been 
 made by the infidels of the village, in reference to my 
 appointment. She seemed to have some fears that I 
 might meet with uncourteous, if not rough, treatment 
 from them. One said, '-Don't go near him, and he'll 
 not come again ;" another said, " We '11 go, and if he is 
 a smart fellow, we 41 stay and hear him out, but if not, 
 we'll leave;" another, '-If he is well clad, pretty sleek, 
 and has on a fine pair of boots, we '11 stay; if not, we 11 
 leave," etc. This started my caloric, commingled with 
 pity and indignation. 
 
 I went to the log school-house that night with an 
 awful sense of the responsibility that was resting upon 
 me. Not onl}' the cause of Methodism, but that of 
 Christianity itself, was somewhat depending upon the 
 effort to be made. I deeply felt my dependence on Grod, 
 and prayed accordingly. My text was, "When the Lord 
 Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with his mighty 
 angels, in flaming fire taking vengeance on them that 
 know not God, and that obey not the Gospel of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ; who shall be punished with ever- 
 lasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and 
 from the glory of his power." 2 Thess. i, 7-9. 
 
 The house was crowded, and Martin Kellogg, one 
 of the infidel teachers, sat close by me. He told me 
 afterward, that when 1 told them that they w^erc worse
 
 182 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 lliuii the people of Sodom and Gomorrali, because tliey 
 sinned a«^uinst greater liglit, the cold streaks went up 
 and down his back, like the ague. I Icariu'd that he 
 and two othei*8 were awakened under that discoui-se, 
 and it proved to he tlie hegiiining (•!' a great revival tor 
 Huch a small place, resulting in the conversion of about 
 fifty souls, among them throe of the tcachei*s of infidelity. 
 
 The case of Kellogg was rather remarkable, lie 
 attempted to get rid of his convictions by drinking 
 freely of whisky, and carousing with his boon compan- 
 ions, lie j)lunged deeper and deeper into this, till the 
 ensuing Monday night, and seemed to feel worse and 
 worse all the time. He was, naturally, a kind husband 
 and father; but in this spree he neglected his family, 
 and provided no wood for the night. Alter dark, when 
 seated by the fire, a neighbor brought in an armful, 
 and threw it upon the fire, before him. This seemed 
 to rouse him from his reverie of deep thought, and, 
 looking up, he inquired what he did that lor. 
 
 "Why," said the man, 'I expect you want some fire 
 this cold night; if you don't your family does;" and 
 left the house. 
 
 This awoke him to a sense of what he was doing, 
 and the shame and degradation to which he was reduc- 
 ing himself, to get lid of his convictions, llis wife, a 
 kind-hearted woman, said to him, kindly, " Martin, I 
 am surprised at you ; to see a man of your character, 
 talent, and standing, throw you rjsolf away in this man- 
 ner. What does it mean? What is tlie cause of it? 
 What has set you going at this course?" 
 
 At this he broke out, '1 in a re|>robate, and there is 
 no mercy for me, and the soomr 1 in dead and damned 
 the better for me, for I shall have the less sin to sutfer 
 for." Then giving her to undei*stand the state of his 
 mind, he seized a butcher-knifo, and attempted to cut 
 his throat, but Ins wife took the knife frop) him and
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 183 
 
 prevented it. He then got a rope, and attempted to 
 hang himself. This, also, she prevented. He then said 
 he must go and see "Jim," meaning M'Intire, the local 
 preacher, who lived about thirty rods distant, through 
 the woods. As he had attempted to destroy himself, 
 his wife naturally fejived to have him go alone, lest he 
 should accomplish that purpose. She could not leave 
 the small children to accompany him, and there being 
 no one else to do so, she objected to his going that night, 
 and urged him to wait till morning. 
 
 "Xo," said he, ''I must go to night, and have Jim 
 pray for me, or I shall be in hell before morning:" 
 and thus saying he broke away from her and ran 
 at the top of his speed to find ••Jim." On entering the 
 house where "Jim" boarded with his parents, and out 
 of breath, and showing the highest state of agitation 
 of mind, he inquired for "Jim." M'Intire's mother and 
 a boy being all that were at home at the moment, the 
 bo}' was dispatched in a great hurry for him. 
 
 The family had heard that Kellogg was on a spree, a 
 regular " bender," that day ; and the old lady very natu- 
 rally expected a fight at least; and, from the unusual 
 agitation of Kellogg's mind, feared something worse 
 had occurred, and began to inquire what was the 
 matter. 
 
 Kellogg's lips and limbs trembled, being agitated 
 from head to foot, and in reply to her inquiries, said, 
 "I want Jim to pray for me," and could say no more. 
 This was as unexpected to the old lady as a thunder 
 gust in midwinter. But before she could recover from 
 her surprise so as to make further inquiries, her son 
 came in. 
 
 M'Intire's way was very calm and easy, always good- 
 natured and social, and supposing, from what he had 
 heard of the " spree " in the village, that some more of 
 the legitimate fruits of whisky were on hand, sat down
 
 184 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 by tlie Ride of KelIo^<if uimI inquired, "Well, Martin, 
 what is tiie matter now?" But Kelioi,'g choked and 
 trembled ro that he could not reply, and the tears 
 ran freely. By this time M'Intire began to be ai)pre- 
 hensive that murder, or something akin to it, had 
 occurred, when his mother said, " Mr. Kellogg want8 
 30U to pray for him." 
 
 This took MJntire all aback. " What," thought he. 
 •Martin Kellogg want to be prayed for! The intidel 
 teacher, and on a regular bender for several days past, 
 want to be prayed tor! He must have had a vision of 
 heaven or hell, or both; or has seen a visitant from 
 the 8i)irit world," and he began to inquire for the cause 
 of this strange and unexpected movement of his. 
 
 '• 1 can 't tell you any thing about it now," said 
 Kellogg, "but I want you to pray tor me, or I shall be 
 in hell before morning," and fell upon his knees b}' the 
 chair. 
 
 MTntire seeing this earnestness and evidence of deep 
 penitence, felt his soul moved within him, as only a 
 man of deep piet}-, who felt the worth of souls, could 
 feel, and he fell also upon his knees and j>rayed as best 
 he could, not knowing the particulars of the case. 
 The mother's cold heart was melted ; her tears started 
 freely down her cheeks, and she almost imagined that 
 the world was coming to an end, if Martin Kellogg, the 
 known and noted intidel, wanted to be prayed for; but 
 not feeling prej)ared to go before the Judge of quick and 
 dead, she joined in the prayer for her own soul, 
 earnestly. 
 
 When they i-ose from their knees MIntire gave Kel- 
 logg some words of comfort, inspiring him with some 
 hope of mercy, and that he was not a reprobate from all 
 eternity, when Kellogg became more composed, and told 
 how he folt under the pleaching the Friday night before, 
 and how he had tiied to drown his convictions by the
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 1-85 
 
 free use of whisky and carousing; but that his convic- 
 tions had only increased, and finally" in despair, he had 
 attempted his own life, but was prevented bj' his wife, 
 and how he had broken away from her to come and see 
 him, leaving her wringing her hands in fear. 
 
 At this poiut M'Intire sprang to his feet and said: 
 "If that be the case you must go home at once, and I '11 
 go with 3'ou;" and so they did. On reaching the house 
 they found her walking the floor, and in great distress 
 of mind, fearing that Kellogg had accomplished his 
 intent, instead of going to M'Intire's, and that the next 
 she should see of him would be his lifeless bod3^ But 
 on seeing him alive, and in such good hands, she sat 
 down relieved in mind, but much exhausted, yet thank- 
 ful. M'lntire spent the night with Kellogg in prayer 
 and counsel, pointing him to the Savior. 
 
 The next da}' there was a great buzzing among the 
 infidels. The events of that night had got on the wings 
 of the wind. One of their most prominent men had 
 renounced their soul-damning creed, and was praying! 
 Some half dozen of them went to M'Intire's to inquire 
 if the reports were true, and to ascertain if he was not 
 drunk, and that all this change was but the result of 
 the liquor: affirming that they had never seen him on 
 such a spree before, and that he must have taken at 
 least half a gallon during the day. 
 
 But M'lntire and his mother replied that whatever 
 he had done during the day, he was sober when he came 
 there. It would seem that the extreme anguish and 
 agitation of his mind had counteracted the eifects of the 
 liquor, so that no signs of it were upon him when he 
 reached M'Intire's house. The efforts of the infidels to 
 turn him back were unavailing. He went thirty miles 
 to a quartcrl3'-meeting the next week, and was soundly 
 converted to God; as were, also, several of his neigh- 
 bors who accompanied him. 
 
 16
 
 186 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Wlion I <;ime round to New Haven, at my next 
 appointment, I found Kello^ir happy, with nevcral 
 othei*8 who were eitl»er awakened un<ler my first ser- 
 mon there, or had been awakened by the case of 
 Kelloi,'!,' arid others, so that quite an exeitement was up, 
 aini a revival in progress. The infidels, of course, must 
 attack the preaclier whose humble efforts liad been the 
 means of this breach upon and into their ranks. 
 
 To do this most effectually, their great champion, 
 Dr. Koyal N. Powers, met me at Kellogg's to argue the 
 points in dispute between us. Knowing that it was of 
 little or no use to argue with skeptics on the abstract 
 question of revelation, for on these points they have 
 fixed-up answers to suit their own views, and which 
 answer them as a salvo to their consciences, and these 
 they have by rote, I turned the tables on him by a})- 
 pealing to matters of fact, which he could not dispute. 
 
 '•Doctor," said I, "would you believe brother Kel- 
 logg on his oath ?' 
 
 "Yes," said he, "I would Ixlieve him without a!i 
 oath, for I never knew him to lie in my life." 
 
 1 then turned to brother Kellogg and asked, ' Do you 
 knou: that you have met with a change in this matter?" 
 
 "Yes," said he, "bless God, 1 know it." 
 
 "Ah," said the Doctor, "I don't doubt but he 
 thinks so." 
 
 "Brother Kellogg," I inquired, "is it a think so 
 with you, or a matter of knowledge?" 
 
 "Why, bless God. I know it, because I feel it." 
 
 "Well, brother Kellogg, which is the hai)pier state, 
 your present, or your former one?" 
 
 "Why, the present one; and I would not change 
 back again for a thousand such worlds as this." 
 
 "Well," said liu' Doctor, "1 helii'Ve you are all de- 
 luded, hut it is a haj)j)y delusion, and I really wish I 
 was deluded too. I believe you are really happier than
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 187 
 
 I am."' And it so turned out that in six weeks he was 
 as much deluded — if it is delusion — as any of us. The 
 last I heard of hini he was still on his way to the good 
 world. But of poor Kellogg, 1 was pained to hear that 
 after many years of usefulness in the Church he had 
 backslidden, and took refuge in semi-infidelity — Univer- 
 salism — when he was over seventy-six years of age. 
 How are the mighty fallen ' 
 
 In the conversion of Dr. Powers there was one cir- 
 cumstance out of the ordinary course of such events, 
 and may meet some other similar case; after he had 
 yielded to his convictions, and resolved to seek religion, 
 lie pictured out in his mind how the change would 
 occur, and how he would feel, and drawing his picture 
 from some others whom he had seen and heard, calcu- 
 lated on a great shout when he was converted. He 
 expected to obtain pardon in a good meeting where 
 others were happy, and expected to be as happ}' as the 
 happiest. The blessing not coming in this way, and as 
 soon as he expected, he became despondent and dis- 
 couraged, and almost sank into despair. On the day 
 of his conversion he was at a good meeting, but felt so 
 bad that he left and went into his barn to pray. Then 
 and there, in a still small voice, God spoke peace to his 
 soul. He then thought that he would return to the 
 meeting, tell what he bad found, and have his great 
 shout over it with the brethren. But no such over- 
 powering joy as he expected came into his soul; but, 
 instead thereof, a calm jDcace, which he enjoj'ed best in 
 solemn silence. He could not doubt the change, and 
 after declaring it to the brethren, retired to his barn 
 for prayer, praise, and meditation. There he M'as filled 
 to overflowing with peace; but he felt best in joyful, 
 weeping silence before God. 
 
 In over half a century's experience and observation, 1 
 have never known a person to be converted just in the
 
 188 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 way lie liad pictured it out in hiw own mind. Such pict- 
 ures are usually drawn Irom some remarkable case, and 
 wi re the reality to be in accordance with the privious 
 imai^ination, there would be room, if not ground lor 
 the thought, that the creature had a hand in his own 
 conversion; as if to xcill to be converted would do the 
 work. But as the work is Gods, and of God, he will 
 do it in such a way as to secure the glory of it to him- 
 self. His agency is always plainly visible to the con- 
 verted mind. The act of pardoning, changing, or re- 
 gemrating the soul, being of God, the work, wluii 
 accomplished, bears the Divine impress; so that though 
 it did not occur agreeably to our preconceived notions, 
 yet we have no just cause to <loubt its reality, but 
 rather have stronger faith that it is genuine, because 
 we see clearly that it was God, and not ourself, that 
 did it. 
 
 While this revival was in progress in New Haven, 
 a great change took place in the state of the commu- 
 nity. One fellow said that so many had turned Method- 
 ists that whisky had fallen from titty to twenty-five 
 cents a gallon. But in his willlul stubborness not to 
 yield to the sacred influences, whisky being so cheap, 
 he drank the harder. He owned and run a small un- 
 finislied grist mill, and that on Sunday, though it 
 might stand idle all the rest of the week. On one 
 Sunday, having his jug of the poison to chetr his spirits 
 from thoughts of (i«»d and salvation, whether drunk, half 
 drunk, or partially sober, i kn«>w not. not being llure, 
 he fell somehow, backward \\\nn\ a timber, which broke 
 the spine, of which he soon died in deep despair. 
 
 This revival continued lor several weeks, during 
 which about fifty souls were converted and reclaimed. 
 Among the converts was a young lady, a sister of M Jn 
 tire, the local preacher, which (lecurred on this wise: 
 J h:id nlten et)nvei>ed with her on the subject of relig-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 189 
 
 ion, but invaribly met with a repulse by her wit; she 
 turning the scales upon me by some laughable remark. 
 She was the first and the last person that could get 
 the better of me by such means, and I gave her up in 
 despair of* doing her any good. 
 
 But one day, after a long and fruitless trial with 
 her, I was in conversation with her father upon the 
 good work in progress, when he spoke of his children, 
 for whose salvation he felt great concern. I remarked 
 that he had one child that I feared would be lost, any- 
 how, for a funny devil was the worst devil I ever had 
 to grapple with. She was near enough to hear the re- 
 mark, and was sure it referred to her, and from it con- 
 viction reached her heart. She bowed before God, and 
 that night before the altar, at the mourners' bench, she 
 was converted, and repeatedly afterward thanked me 
 for that remark. 
 
 At Perkins was the largest and best society on the 
 circuit, and composed, mostly, of old Methodists, who 
 emigrated from Connecticut. John Beatie, a local elder, 
 and William Gurley, a local deacon, resided there. 
 Beatie's wife was Gurley's sister. Beatie, in New Lon- 
 don, Conn., had been a successful merchant, and had 
 purchased largely of the " Fire-Lands," in the Connect- 
 icut "Western Eeserve, and concluding to move to and 
 sell his lands, had induced Gurley and most of the so- 
 ciety to accompany him, and thus formed the colony. 
 But Beatie found that selling lands was not like sell- 
 ing goods. The returns were not as frequent, and he 
 became embarrassed and was depressed in spirit, and 
 seldom preached, though he had superior talents for the 
 pulpit, and the society being more or less affected by 
 his state of mind, was in a low state of religion. 
 
 Tn coming into the settlement, on one round I un- 
 dertook to obey the letter of the rule by visiting from 
 house to house, taking every one in course. The set-
 
 100 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 tlement was six miles long, all on one street, on a ridge, 
 each one having a farm running back into the prairie 
 fro in the roiid. 
 
 1 began at the first house, told the peojiie who and 
 what I was, and that I had called to tiilk with them 
 on the subject of religion, and if they had no objection, 
 to }>ray with them. In nearly all tluy listene*! re- 
 spectfully, and made no objections. 
 
 At length I came to a Universaliht, who. at once, 
 commenced an argument on doctiinal points. I told 
 him I had not called to argue or dispute, but simj>ly to 
 talk about religion, and if he had no objections, to i)ray 
 with and for his famih'. At this he stopjXHl and list- 
 ened. I gave a short exiiorlation ; exj>laining the nat- 
 ure of religion, and urging its necessity as a quallHea- 
 tion for heaven. Upon his consenting, I prayed with 
 and for liim and his family. 
 
 In this way I visited every house, till I reached the 
 one at which I was to stop ior the night. The next 
 morning, it being Sunday, I took every house in course, 
 in the same way, till I reached the log sehool-house in 
 which we held our meetings. After meeting 1 pursued 
 the same course to the end of the settlement. 
 
 The result was, a crowded house at meeting, and a 
 gracious revival of religion. Some twenty or thirty 
 were converted, among whom were some of tlie I'ni- 
 versalist's family and James Gurley, who afterward 
 became a distinguished itinerant in Ohio, and else- 
 where, and now lives in Northern Minnesota.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 191 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 As I have already hinted, I here became acquainted 
 with the Eev. William Gurley, whose biography, 
 by hi8 son, Eev. Leonard B. Gurley, is among our 
 Church literature. He was born in Ireland, where he 
 was converted under the ministry of Mr. Wesley. 
 From him I learned, for the first time, the true charac- 
 ter, nature, and design of the Irish Eebellion, 1798. I 
 had seen many an Irish refugee at my father's public- 
 house, when a boy, and had learned from them, and 
 from my father, who greatly sympathized with them, 
 because he supposed them to be aiming at republican- 
 ism, that the object of the rebellion was to establish a 
 Republic on the -^ Green Isle," similar to that of the 
 United States; and, of course, every lover of liberty 
 would wi:?h they had succeeded in their attempt. 
 
 But Mr. Gurley informed me that it was a Eoman 
 Catholic movement. Many Protestants at first joined 
 them, being promised, and expecting, republican free- 
 dom. But as soon as the Papists thought the day was 
 theiis, they turned upon their Protestant friends, and 
 savagely butchered them, burning some two hundred 
 in one building. Mr. Gurley's brother was piked on 
 Wexford Bridge, with many others, and thrown into 
 the river. Mr. Gurley himself was made a prisoner, 
 condemned to death upon the same bridge, and by the 
 same kind of weapons, when the King's troops came 
 up and relieved him with others. Of course, he and 
 they could not admire the idea of Catholic rule. 
 
 Mr. Gurley's preaching talents were moderate, but 
 respectable. His deep Irish accentuation, together with 
 his Irish or mother-wit, and constitutional eccentricity,
 
 102 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 attracted the lovers of such style of speaking. His 
 d rp piety and earnestness of manner often made his 
 pnaching of a j)owerful oast, and useful io his liearei-s. 
 
 Tln' last time I saw him was at the last quarteily- 
 meeting, held near the center of what was then Huron 
 county, Ohio, when, in relating his experience in love- 
 feast, after giving some very interesting details, ho 
 broke out in a characteristic exhortation, saying, ' My 
 brethren, we are all wrong in the way we do things. 
 We suffer the devil to ride us about at his pleasure, 
 loading us with heavy burdens of trials and tempta- 
 tions. Hut this is not the riglit way. Instead oi" ht- 
 tiiig him ride us at his will, we should mount ui>on Ins 
 back aFid ri<ie hhn till we sj>iir-gall him.'' 
 
 There was, also, in this class at Perkins, a leader, 
 .lull us Iloure, who was a model for such officers, lie 
 could work the longest and the hardest, and appar- 
 ently with the most faith and power of an}' man 1 ever 
 saw, at the altar or mourners' bench, and with the most 
 effect. It seemed, when he besought the Throne of 
 Grace in behalf of penitents, as if he had hold of the 
 horns of the altar, and, like wrestling Jacob, would not 
 let go till the blessing was i)estowed. In his other du- 
 ties as leader, he was equally faithful, and, of course, 
 he was a blessing to his charge. 
 
 One of my appointments on this circuit was at 
 '' Cold Spring," a phenomenon of nature. It breaks out 
 4it the northern base of a limestone ridge, some two 
 hundred feet high. As well as 1 can now recollect, 
 the spring itself covers four or live acres, and was 
 then full of black ahlei-s; the water being covered with 
 green moss, so strong as to bear up birds and even 
 cats in the pursuit of them. 
 
 The outlet of this spring was about lorty feet wide 
 and six feet deep, and the smooth current was rapid 
 enough to turn a mill without any aj)pari'nt head ()r
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 198 
 
 fall. The water was so clear that a pin could be seen 
 on the bottom. Its motion was tremalous, like melted 
 lead, and so impregnated with lime that stones formed 
 on the limbs of the willows along its banks, and sank 
 them to the bottom. The tea-kettles would soon be 
 incrusted, and their spouts filled with lime. And the 
 inhabitants were so subject to fevers and agues, that 
 but few continued to live long by this great fountain. 
 
 The place was one of the seats of bloody massacre 
 in the war of 1812, by the Indians, when a number of 
 men, women, and children were killed or taken prison- 
 ers to Maiden, where the British authorities paid the 
 savages for both scalps and prisoners. Two boys who 
 happened to be in the corn-field at the time of the 
 attack, were all that escaped. One of them, Era Put- 
 nam, then seventeen years of age, was living, in 18G5, 
 at Prairie du Chi en. 
 
 This remarkable stream runs through an apparently 
 level prairie some two miles, when it begins to divide 
 and subdivide, till in two miles more it is lost in the 
 marsh bordering upon Sandusky Bay, a short distance 
 west of Venice. 
 
 On a prairie, some four miles North-West from the 
 spring, I saw a mound about thirty feet in diameter, 
 and four feet high, perfectly round. It was flat on the 
 top, with a spring in the center. It was composed of 
 cinder-looking stones resembling those formed on the 
 limbs of the willows on the stream, and were evidently 
 formed by deposits from the water, which so clearly 
 resembled the water in the great spring, as to leave no 
 doubt that it came from there by a subterranean pas- 
 sage. The stones here formed increased, apparently, in 
 size, and sj^read the mouncf out each way, the outer 
 edge of which was covered with grass, at an angle of 
 forty -five degrees; the grass also extended over the 
 level top to within two or three feet of the center; but 
 
 17
 
 194 A WhbTKKN PIONKLK. 
 
 in walkin«; over it tin- ]....•>.•!. .^^ <.t' tli.- ^t.,n..^ w^^ ,\\<. 
 covcrable by the feet. 
 
 The cause ot'tl»is siiiLjulur >j>iij»g ri.>iij^ a.s il docs, :it 
 the foot of a high ridge, was supposed to be the sink- 
 ing of some small streams on the opposite side of the 
 ridge. The water was greatly changed in appearance 
 and character, by its sui)tei ranean course. Kroin its 
 unhealthiness, it was pi*e8umed to liave passed over or 
 through some poisonous mineral, and chemical analysis 
 was said to show the presence of copper as well as 
 lime. 
 
 Some four miles northerly Irom this spring was a 
 ridge of timber land, running down to the bay. It was 
 little else than stone, which the inhabitants called lime. 
 At my first visit to the i)lace I was invited to examine 
 some Indian mounds made of these stones, over some 
 of their dead. The bones were uncovered by using the 
 stones, and were like othei*s of the kind; but the stones 
 attracted my attention from their resemblance to |>las- 
 ter of Paris, which I hiul seen in my l)<>yhood. brought 
 into the New York market from Passanuiquoddy Bay. 
 M}' guide insisted that it must be lime, for they had 
 burned it into lime, with which they had plastered 
 and whitewashed their hou.ses. To test the matter I 
 a)»plied the knife, and as it cut like plaster, I became 
 satisfied of its nature. I reported this discovery round 
 the circuit and country where I traveled; and in less 
 than two } t-ars these stones were quarried and shij>j)ed 
 to Clevelan*!, and used in the manufacture of burr 
 millstones. 
 
 As this was the tirsl j>rairie countiy tjjal 1 had seen, 
 I sought the cause of its being nude of timber. Some 
 thought it was natural, othei-s that it had been cleared 
 by the inhabitants in some ft)rmer and distant age. 
 But in all cleared land 1 had ever seen, if left unculti- 
 vated any length of time, the timber would spring up
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 195 
 
 in a thick growth, so that this idea was not probable. 
 As for nature's leaving it so, it was contrary to nature, 
 for invariably when the fire is kept out, the timber 
 spreads. Since then, in my observations in more ex- 
 tensive prairie regions, I have seen where the fire is 
 kept out, the timber encroaches upon the prairie very 
 rapidly. 
 
 My conclusions then were, and fifty years of more 
 extensive observations on the subject have confirmed 
 them, that fire was the cause, and the only cause of 
 such extensive tracts of land being nude of timber. 
 The Indians, for ages, have been in the habit of firing 
 the woods and open country, for hunting purposes. 
 This being done in the dryest season, the high winds 
 drove the fires with great force. I noticed that trees, 
 in timber adjoining the prairies, and sometimes some 
 distance into the standing green timber, were wounded 
 in the bark by the fire. The wind would come with 
 a whirl round a tree, and the grass and dead leaves 
 being in a flame, the bark of the tree would be scalded 
 through, and die. The next year's fire would find this 
 bark dry, and consume it. In the mean time the tim- 
 ber thus deprived of its bark would decay, and being 
 dry, succeeding fires would work deeper into the body 
 of the tree, and so on, year after year, till the inside of 
 it was so consumed that but a thin shell remained, 
 when a hard wind would fell it to the ground, break- 
 ing it into splinters. The next year's fire would find 
 these splinters and the limbs and bark of the tree dry, 
 and consume them. And between the natural decay or 
 rot, and the fires, the trunk of the tree would, in a few 
 years, entirely disappear. 
 
 The roots, of course, would sprout, but being tender, 
 the next year's fire would kill them, and the succeeding 
 fires would constime them, and finally the roots would 
 die, and the tree become extinct. In t)ie mean time
 
 rjO A WKSTKKN PIONKKK. 
 
 the uinlerhrush ami youn<j trccB, whicli, if lefl to grow, 
 woul«l Mi|»i»ly the place of the ohl ones 88 they dis- 
 apjuari'd. would also be killed hy the fires. A» the 
 limber disaj)pettred the grass extended and lurnished 
 more fuel for future tires, till in the ])r(>eess of time 
 no timber was lefl, ami for miles in extent, nothini^ but 
 wild grass and Meeds were to be seen. 
 
 In these Huron county ])rairies. and indeed in all 
 the prairies I ever saw in Ohio, they were low and wet 
 in the wtt part of the year, but became very dry in 
 the dry srason, so that as soon as the frost killed the 
 lurbai^a* in the Fall, and before the grass started in the 
 Spring, the tires would run rani])ant over their jdains. 
 Jn the State of Wisconsin the prairie is mostly found 
 on higher and dryer land. 
 
 On such })rairies the grass is seldom over two feet 
 high, and oflener less, while on the low lands it grows 
 much higher and thicker. I have rid<len on horseback 
 through grass that waved even with my shoulders, on 
 low, wet ground, but never saw such on the higher 
 ground. I have seen the higher class of grass on tire, 
 when the blaze would rise thirty feet; and 1 iiave seen 
 large spires of it, all in a blaze, taken ujj and carried 
 by the whirling wind sevi-ral hkIs in advance of the 
 main tire, where it would kindle anew, and this in turn 
 would throw out another kindler in advance, and so on, 
 nearly as fast as the wind niovod. 
 
 It was said that no man could run fast enough 
 through such high grass to escape such tires, and but 
 lew horses could do so, when the grass was thick and 
 high, and the wind strong In such a case, if a man 
 saw the fire coming toward him, his only safety was in 
 kindling a back fire; and as soon as a small spot was 
 burnc<l, and before it began to rage, to step into the 
 newly burned circle. In such case the fire works /rem 
 him, and forms an open space, in which he can breathe,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. • 197 
 
 before the burning element accumulates sufficient heat 
 to draw in the surrounding atmospljere and increase 
 its force and violence. 
 
 1 was told of an Indian hunter who got thus over- 
 taken, and, instead of kindling a back fire, attempted 
 to outrun the flame, but, being overtaken, he threw 
 himself down in the grass to let the fire pass over him, 
 but it singed off his hair, got into his powder-horn, 
 which blew up, and he escaped barely with his life, but 
 much injured. 
 
 Whj' there should be such a difference between the 
 prairies in Ohio and the States further west, and why 
 any groves of timber are left in the great Western 
 prairies, are questions I am not able to answer. I 
 know the fact of the difference, and am satisfied that 
 fire destroyed the timber where there is none, but fur- 
 ther I do not know. I have seen prairie and timber 
 adjoining on apparently the same kind of soil, but why 
 the fire that destroyed the timber in one place did not 
 do so in the other is for Him that rules the elements 
 to decide. 
 
 I traveled this (Huron) circuit six months, and from 
 five appointments that were furnished me to begin with 
 1 enlarged it to one of four weeks, with twenty-four 
 appointments, and returned 145 members, being an in- 
 crease of sevent^^-five over what I found. I held a 
 quarterly-meeting in Januarj-, 1818, at Perkins, soon 
 after I reached the circuit; but, as brother Finley could 
 not reach the place, I held it alone, having the Lord's- 
 Supper administered bj' brotliers Beatie and Gurlej^, I 
 not being then ordained. In March brother Finley 
 held one for us in New Haven, in the height of our 
 revival there; and in Julj' Eev. J). J). Davisson came 
 as a substitute for the presiding elder, and held the third 
 in a barn on a prairie, near the center of the county. 
 
 At this last meetinor I took occasion to " crv aloud
 
 198 A WKSTEKN PIONEER. 
 
 nnd Ppare not," etc. ; and among tlie Hins of I lie people 
 I said that 1 had been informed of twenty or more 
 families in the euunty who were living in a state of 
 adultery, either the man or the woman, or both, havini; 
 left wife or husband in the Eastern States, and come 
 to thiB country. Some of tliem had gone through tin* 
 forms of a marriage, and others had not. 1 als(i in- 
 formed the people that I had heard of as many or 
 more such families in each of the four counties then 
 bordering uj)on Lake Erie, making in all about one 
 hundred. Some of them had cause for a divoice from 
 wife or husband, but to avoid the expense and trouble 
 came to the West, where they vainly thought they 
 would be unknown. Others had no such cause, but, 
 preferring another to their lawful wife or husband, 
 joined hands and put for the West, where they sup- 
 posed the truth would not follow them. But they all 
 found it was in vain to come West, to be unknown, for 
 in man}' instances they were preceded or soon followed 
 by old neighbors. 
 
 This attack, as they called it, upon their domestic 
 affairs aroused the guilty as soon as it would a slave- 
 holder to touch upon his affairs, and they resorted to 
 similar means in Helf-justification, or leather revenge, 
 for being exposed ; for I was afterward told that some 
 of the guilty followed me with rifles, fifteen or twenty 
 miles, to shoot nu\ In the mean time it stirred up the 
 iiHtral sensibilities of the virtuous, and at the next term 
 of the court the judge charged the grand jury to inquire 
 into the matter, and indict all they found guilty. But 
 the form of the oath administered to grand juries in 
 those days — and perhaps .so yet in somr places — was, 
 '•saving 3'ourselves and your fellow-juroi*8, you will 
 diligently inquire and true presentment make," etc. 
 This blocked th? wheels for this time, for it was ascer- 
 tained that a .najority of that jury were among the
 
 Ri:V. ALFRED BRUNSON. 199 
 
 guilty. As the}' were to " save themselves and their 
 fellow-jurors," no indictments could be found. But the 
 state of the jury leaked out, and the excitement in- 
 creased, and at the next term of the court a jury was 
 selected who were clear of this guilt, and who indicted 
 several; but the majority of the guilt}' found it for 
 their interest to seek residences in some other locations 
 
 From m}- last quarterly-meeting I accompanied 
 brother Davisson to a camp-meeting at "the port- 
 age," so called from the ancient custom of "voyagers" 
 carr3Mng canoes and lading from the Cuyahoga to 
 the Tuscarawas Eiver. I believe it was near where 
 Akron now stands. On the way I was so unfortunate 
 as to displease brother Davisson, b}' obeying the spirit 
 and letter of the Discipline of the Church — that is, in 
 being punctual, and endeavoring to do every thing at 
 the time. I had read Wesley's Works, and imbibed the 
 spirit of them ; I had read the Discipline repeatedly, 
 and endeavored to obey it, but in doing so I committed 
 an offense against my friend, to whom I was so much 
 indebted, while I thought it would have commended 
 me to every Methodist preacher. 
 
 The thing was done in this wise: I tliought we 
 sliould make the families where we lodged as little 
 trouble as possible, and when they announced that tliey 
 were ready for famih' prayers, or that meals were 
 ready, I felt it to be a duty to be on hand at once, and 
 not keep them waiting. But brother Davisson did not 
 view it in the same light, or at least he did not practice 
 it. He was often out of the way, must finish reading 
 a paragraph or sometimes take a walk, while the whole 
 family were in waiting. In one such case I attended 
 famil}' praj'ers in his absence, and in one or two cases I 
 asked a blessing at the table before he got ready to 
 come to it. As he was my senior he thought this was 
 forwardness in me, and savored of pride or self-conceit.
 
 200 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 He said nothing to nic about it, as he slioiild have done, 
 if I»o thought mo to bo in error, but made due report 
 tliercof to the presiding elder, with what coloring or 
 commept« I never knew, only as I inferred from what 
 followed. 
 
 Winn we arrived at tlu» camp ground brother Fin- 
 ley received me, with him, very cordiall}' ; but in a 
 short time he gave me the cold shoulder. I saw that 
 something was in the wind, but what I could not 
 imagine. Fi-om the fact that it occurred after we 
 arrived, I inferred that it must be something that 
 brother D. had said, so I inquired of him what was the 
 matter; whether I ha<l done any thing wrong, or dis- 
 pleased him in any way. All the answer 1 could get 
 was, "Brother, I'm your friend." '"AVell, if you are 
 ni}' friend, tell me what is the cause of this coldness 
 toward me?" But the OT\\y reply was, "I'm your 
 friend." This satisfied me that something from him 
 had caused the trouble. As I could not find out from 
 him what it was, I went to brother Finley. He was as 
 distant and uncommunicative as the other. All this 
 thickened the cloud over mo; my mind became so de- 
 pressed, and my heart so pained, that I could get no 
 rest. 
 
 In this state of the case I insisted so strongly to 
 know the cause of this cold treatment, that I sprung 
 the feelings of Finley, and what he would not tell tor 
 love, or as an official duty, he let out in rather a ])etu- 
 lant manner, and gave me a severe lecture lor being so 
 forward in the presence of older pi-eachers. He said it 
 indicated pride and self-conceit. 1 referred to the rule 
 of Discipline, and the Works of Wesle}'. But that was 
 notliing to me when older ])reachers were ])resent. This 
 I thought strange doctrine to teach a young preacher; 
 but I resolveil t(» be on my guard in future, and if the 
 ohlei- men must govern as in general they ought to do —
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 201 
 
 I would leave the responsibility of any breach of rule, 
 or common decency, with thein, and not incur censure 
 upon myself for such a cause. This was the beginning, 
 and but a specimen of many incidents in my after life. 
 
 I left the camp ground with a heavy heart, and 
 wended my way to Deerfield, on the circuit on which 1 
 lived, to another camp-meetin-g, and where my name 
 stood as a local preacher. The quarterly conference on 
 Huron circuit, w^here I had been traveling, gave me 
 a recommendation to the Annual Conference, to be 
 received on trial in the itinerancy. The quarterly con- 
 ference of Mahoning circuit, on which I lived, at tliis 
 Deerfield camp-meeting also gave me a recommenda- 
 tion for the same object. The presiding elder assured 
 me that it was not necessary for me to attend the An- 
 nual Conference; that, as I had seen my family but 
 once in six months, I might go home. He would pre- 
 sent my case, and the preachers would bring me word 
 as to my appointment, of which no intimation of a 
 doubt was expressed. 
 
 I waited some four weeks and heard nothing from 
 the Conferenct», and then went to a quarterly-meeting to 
 meet brother Finle}^. He informed me that on account 
 of the size of my family — three children — the Confer- 
 ence thought it not best to receive me, and as I had 
 been rejected by the Conference he could not employ 
 me under the rule, there being no leave given to that 
 effect. But I afterward learned that when my case w^as 
 presented it was stated that " he has considerable 
 ability, is popular with the people where he is best 
 Known, but he is proud, self-conceited, and assumes 
 more confidence in the pulpit than the biehop does, and 
 I fear he will be hard to govern and coi^trol." With such 
 a representation, and no one to contradict it — as several 
 might have done — it was no wonder that the Confer- 
 ence rejected me. It was, and is a wonder that brother
 
 *202 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 FiiiK'3' siionlil verge po lianl iijxjn duplicity, and not 
 frankly tell me what he said to otliers. It was also a 
 wonder lo nie thai any one acfjiiainted with hninan 
 nature, should form such an opinion of me withotit any 
 act of mine to authorize it. If I assumed confidence 
 in the pulpit, or appeared to do so, it was only in the 
 presence of older preachei*8, to overcome the fear that 
 younc^ men are apt to feel when preaching helore their 
 ciders; from which 1 suffered as much, I })resume, as 
 any one ever did. 
 
 I returned home and tried to content myself that I 
 had done all I could to obey God, and that as he in his 
 providence had closed up my way, or at least had not 
 opened it. I was relieved fi-om the responsibility, and 
 might give it up; but still I could not be salistied. 
 
 In this distress of mind, bordering upon despair, my 
 presi<ling elder persuaded me to sell a large stock of 
 Hj)iritual song books that he had jniblished, assuring me 
 that I could realize fitly dollars a month, and could, in 
 the mean time, become acquainted with the preachers 
 by traveling and preaching among them. aii<l thus 
 Providence would open the way for my admittance 
 into the itinerancy. The field to be occupied was down 
 the Ohio River into the lower part of Ohio, and into 
 Indiana and Kentucky, which was then included in the 
 Ohio Conference. This, under the continue*! din of 
 '•waiting the opening of Providence," had a ])lau8ible 
 appearance, and from the want of light in the tiiture. I 
 agreetl to do so. 
 
 Just before leaving home upon thi.** unfortunate 
 enterprisi', I had a remarkable drt^am, in which I war- 
 dered in llu" dark, ami waded in deep and dark waters, 
 out of whieli 1 could not escape, and awoke while yet 
 in the dark. I had paid but little attention to dreams, 
 though in some few instances I had been clearly warned 
 of danger by them, and this seemed clearly to indicate
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 203 
 
 danger and trouble ahead. But I had agreed to go. 
 and thought I must keep my word. As I could see no 
 risk on the plan proposed, I went on as agreed. 
 
 I went to Steubenville, Ohio, where the books were, 
 in the Fall of 1818, just before the closing of the river 
 by the ice. When I got there the man with whom m}^ 
 presiding elder was concerned in the publication of the 
 books, would not consent to my selling the books on 
 commission, as I had agreed to do, and which was the 
 only thing I had agreed to do. This refusal on his 
 part would have legal h^ and morally released me from 
 the agreement; but my presiding elder urged me to 
 purchase them at a discount, and then required a mort- 
 gage on my little farm to secure the payment. 
 
 This took me all aback, and 1 thought of returning 
 home. But my presiding elder urged, and assured me 
 of the certainty of the sale, as the books were in de- 
 mand in that region; and the "opening of 2)rovidence" 
 was urged, so that in my distress I unfortunately in- 
 volved myself in a debt of seven hundred dollars, giving 
 the required mortgage, for which I never realized one 
 hundred dollars, over my expenses. I finall}' settled 
 the matter, and got a release of the mortgage, by giving 
 a deed of four hundred acres of land, which I had pro- 
 cured on a tax title. 
 
 It is said ''to be an ill wind that blows nobody any 
 good;" and so it was in this case. It gave me an op- 
 portunity to travel, and preach, extensively, and to 
 form acquaintance with both preachers and people, 
 which probably aided me in obtaining a place in the 
 itinerancy. I descended the Ohio Eiver in a flat-boat, 
 in the January thaw (1819), which broke up the ice in 
 the river as far as Madison, Indiana, which I made my 
 head-quarters. From this I traveled as far as Louis- 
 ville, Ky., and New Albany, Ind., and to some distance 
 into the country, on each side of the river; but failing
 
 204 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 to 8i'll iny IxKjks, as 1 had been assured I should <lo, I 
 lofl thom at Madison, and ri'tutiu'd home, in the Sprini^ 
 oflSlO. 
 
 On my way home 1 visited an uncle. H. K. Cozier, 
 whom I had not seen in fourteen years, when he Icll 
 my fatl»er's house in Sin*^ ^^^f^, N. Y., " to seek his for- 
 tune in the West.' I found him near Sj)rinj^tield, Ohio. 
 His wife and father-in law were Methodists, and him- 
 self favorably' inclined that way; so tliat in findinEj mc 
 to be a preaelier of tluit order, they received me with a 
 double affection. I rej»eatedly visited them afterward, 
 in my journeyin«jf8 to and from Conference. 
 
 On reaching home, where Calvifi Kuter and J(»iin 
 Stewart were on the ciicuTt, then havini^ an extensive 
 revival o( relii^non on their circuit, I entered into the 
 work witii them, heart and soul. Kuter and I s]>enl. 
 much time to«^etlier, and preachini^ alternately, we 
 aL,M'eed to criticise each other's sermons, friendlily. and 
 for our mutual benefit. No one step in my life contrib- 
 uted so much to correct m}' languai^e in public speaic- 
 Ing as this. It j)ut me u|)on my <xuard, in the use of 
 words, as well as ideas, and it assisted me greatly in 
 overcoming the ensnaring and unmeaning man-fearing 
 s})irit which had greatly troubled me in preaching be- 
 fore another, and eHj)ecially an older, preacher. This 
 fear, so very common with young preachers, had greatly 
 embarrassed me thus far through life, notwithstanding 
 aj)]»earance:^, which, some old j)reachers told mi*, iiuli- 
 cated that 1 feared nothing and nobod}*. 
 
 In the course of this Summer, 1810, I attended a 
 camp-mei'ting, near Polaiul, in the edge of Pennsyl- 
 vania. I preached on Fiiday night; but .1. H. Finhy, 
 the presiding elder, and .1. C Brooke, the jireacher on 
 the circuit, both ap|)eared to be on me, one on each 
 shoulder. flwy were both large men, but the weight 
 upon my miiul seemed to be greater than their persons
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 205 
 
 would upon my body. Of course I wiillowed in the 
 brush most laboriously and uncomfortably. I felt 
 greatly mortified, and ashamed of myself and m^^ per- 
 formance. I knew it was foolish; that they were 
 friend]}-, and did not listen with critical ears. I knew, 
 too, that they had been 3'oung, and had, probably, suf- 
 fered from the same kind of fear, and, without doubt, 
 would sympathize with and pity me. But all this did 
 not save me. I resolved to try harder than ever to 
 overcome it, in future. 
 
 On Sunday morning brother Finley told me that I 
 must preach at night; and, knowing that that would be 
 the last sermon on the ground, as the meeting was to 
 close early the ne^xt morning, I began to pi-epare for 
 "gathering up the fragments, tiiat nothing be lost." 
 But about fifteen minutes before nine, the preaching 
 hour, he called me into the tent, and said I must preach 
 then, as brother Carroll preferred to preach at night. 
 I attempted to plead in excuse that I was preparing for 
 night, and the subject would not be approj^riate for the 
 morning. But he cut me shoi-t by saying, " Xever 
 mind; you are a minute man; whet up your old Jeru- 
 salem blade, and go at it." 
 
 I saw there was no escape. Deference to age, and 
 obedience to those who were appointed to bear rule over 
 me, was a lesson that I had learned most effectually, 
 though I had never had any disposition to be otherwise. 
 So I bowed in submission. 
 
 As the subject I was preparing would not be appro- 
 priate, the question arose in my mind, What shall I 
 preach from? A text that I had used several times, 
 with good effect, as at Nelson, on Calvinism, struck my 
 mind, and I determined to use it. As T had suffered 
 so much in mind from the fear of old preachers, I deter- 
 mined to make a great, if not desperate, effort to over- 
 come it. To do this I had to imaejine, for the time
 
 206 A WESTKKN PIONEER. 
 
 bcMFi^, that I wa8 the i,MH'atrst man upon the Btand. 
 which, indeed, was literally true most of the time, U>v 
 no other one was on it. 
 
 The preaehern ail left me alone on the stand, ami 
 took to the pi^Cttchers' tent, behind it, but near enou^'h 
 for mo to hear their whisperine^, and low-toned talk. 
 Hearing this, the thought would flit across my nnnd 
 that I had said something out of joint, and they would 
 seem to be crawling up my back like a tremor; but I 
 would rail}', and shake it off, resolved to keep my head 
 above the brush, if possible; I concluded that it was 
 now or never. 
 
 My text was Komans viii, 28-30. Being in a Cal- 
 vinistic neighborhood, many of whom were present, and 
 as the Methodists, with the outsiders, were anxious to 
 know what could be done with the text, except to prove 
 Calvinism. I soon saw that all o^es were fixed upon 
 me, and all ears were open and listening. Seeing this 
 led me to think 1 was not spoiling every thing, if in- 
 deed, any thing. I saw that I had the people's atten- 
 tion, whether I pleased the preachers or not. This 
 encouraged me. and 1 let loose with all my powers. 
 Before 1 was half through, half of the large congrega- 
 tion were on their feel, with eyes, ears, and mouths 
 open, involuntarily moving toward the staiid, listening 
 with apparent wonder at the new light that the " boy 
 preacher" was pouring upon that hitherto difficult text. 
 
 According to the arrangement, and in accordance 
 with the custom of those times, to have two sermons '\n 
 Bucecssion, before the congregation was dismissed, from 
 the stand. Dr. S. Bostwick, formerly a ])residing elder 
 in New England, and now a local j)reacher, a man of 
 superior preaching power, was to follow me. When, 
 perha])s, I was half, or two-thirds, through, he came 
 upon the stand, with one or two others. The Doc- 
 tor sat and rubbed his hands, groaned, and sighed,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 207 
 
 while the fears rolled down his cheeks rcapidly. Had I 
 known him then, as I did afterward, I should have 
 known that he was j^leased ; but, as it was, I was in 
 doubt, and had fears that I was spoiling every thing, 
 w^hich caused his groans and tears. Yet, when I looked 
 at the congregation, and saw the deep attention of all, 
 and the apparent jo}^ of the Methodists, I could but 
 reject all such fears. 
 
 In about an hour and a half I wound u^), and took 
 my seat, when the preachers all left the tent, and came 
 upon the stand. This difference in their respect and 
 attention caused another tremor to pass over me, that 
 possibl}^ I had disgusted them; but of this the Doctor 
 soon relieved me, when he began his discourse. 
 
 His text was, "All Scripture is given by inspiration 
 of G-od," etc. After his introduction, he said that 
 enough had been said in reference to Calvinism,, and so 
 well said, that he need not touch upon it, but would pay 
 his respects to Universalism, Deism, and Atheism, w^hich 
 he did with the most brilliant success. I thought 
 if those were his views of my performance, I should 
 never again give way to such fears, when preaching be- 
 fore others ; and, by the blessing of God, on that day I 
 got the victory, so that from thenceforward it has never 
 troubled me. 
 
 About this time, in conversation with brother Fin- 
 ley and others, on the bodily exercises which frequently 
 attended our early ministry, and as illustrative of our 
 early history, he related, in substance, the following 
 incident: 
 
 In a town of Kentucky, I think it w^as, a revival of 
 religion was in progress, of a most powerful character. 
 In the same block where the meetings were held, but 
 in the opposite side of it, lived a widow lady with 
 three daughters, who wished to flourish in " upper- 
 tendom," and she imbibed the notion that religion
 
 208 A WESTKRN IMONEER. 
 
 \voul<l spoil 1km- <langl«tors for ladiea, and ruin tlieir 
 prospccU for future fashionable aii«l re8]>ectablc Bcttle- 
 nient in life. The daui^'htei-s iiad, with other ga\- y(uing 
 j)e<>l)le of their <l:is8, been to the meetings, and one of 
 them was awakemd to a ju<»j>er sense of her Binfuliieftg 
 by nature and practice, and desired to seek the salva- 
 tion of her soul. This the mother could not endure, 
 and she forbid the daughters, and cspeciall}' the awak- 
 ened one, fi*om attendiui^ the meetings, under the pains 
 and penalties of being disowned and turned out-of- 
 doors, for, said the mother, '* I will not have my house 
 and family so disgraced as to have a bawling Method- 
 ist in it." 
 
 The front room of tlie lower fioor of the house was 
 occupied as a store, and the family lived in the upper 
 front room, using the back kitchen on the lower floor 
 for the purposes of c<x)king, etc. On one night of the 
 meeting, tite awakened daughter, not daring to go to 
 it, retired frotn the rest of the family unob.served, and 
 took H seat by an open window in the back kitchen. 
 The weather being warm, and the windows of the 
 meeting-house being open, and the preacher speaking 
 loud, as was customary in those days, she could hear 
 as distinctly as if she had been in the meeting, and she 
 was so affected, and her bodily powers so overcome, 
 that she fell upon the floor, helpless and powerless, and 
 lay so, no one knew how long. 
 
 About the close of the meeting the family mi.ssed 
 the j)enitent daughter, and all sprang to their feet to 
 look for her. the mother declaring that if she had gone 
 tc the meeting she should never darken her door again. 
 The housf was searched upstairs, but she was not to 
 be found. At length one ran down into the kitchen, 
 where she found the missing one on the floor, as she 
 supposed, in a fit or dead. The alarm was soon given, 
 the doctor sent foi-. :md tlu- helpless one was borne up-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 209 
 
 stairs. The doctor declared it to be a fit of the apo- 
 plexj^, and said he must let blood. 
 
 At this moment the people were j^^ssing by from 
 the meeting, and, hearing the outcry, some of them 
 went to assist the family in the supposed affliction. 
 Among them was a pious mother in Israel, who had 
 some idea of the state of the penitent's mind, and in- 
 quired as to the circumstances under which she was 
 found. When she learned the facts of the case, she at 
 once comprehended it, and told the doctor and the fam- 
 ily that it was not a fit, but the power of God; that 
 they need not bleed, it would do no good ; but if they 
 would let her and a few others that had come in sing 
 and pray with her, she would soon come out of the 
 suj^posed fit rejoicing and happy. 
 
 But the doctor was inexorable. He said he reck- 
 oned he knew his own business, and thrust the good 
 sister back, and ordered her away out of the room. 
 She replied, "I shan't go, doctor; and j^ou are too 
 much of a gentleman to put me out. It is no fit, but 
 the power of God upon her; she 's under conviction, and 
 if you '11 let us pray w^ith her she '11 do well enough." 
 
 By this time the arm was bound up, and the blood 
 flowing freely, showing that it was not apoplexy, and 
 the good sister standing close by the penitent, and per- 
 haps with a hand on her, said in her hearing: 
 
 "Here, Lord, I give myself away, 
 'T is all that I can do." 
 
 At this the young lady sprang to her feet, with a loud 
 shout of "Glory to God! glory to Jesus! he has par- 
 doned my sins!" and seeing her mother, made one leap, 
 the blood still flying over the white dresses, and grasped 
 her round the neck, with a "glory to Jesus! mother; 
 he has pardoned all my sins, and my soul is happy !" 
 The doctor took to his heels, leaving the arm bandaged 
 
 18
 
 210 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 and the blood flowing. The mother fell to the floor 
 all besmearcMJ willj blood, and cried to God for mercy; 
 and the other siHtere, who had been weeping and wring- 
 ing their hands at the Hupjmsed death of the other, 
 now turned their cry for mercy, and fell to the floor. 
 In the mean time the sisters, who understood the 
 case, released the bleeding arm. and bound it up as best 
 they could, while she was jumj)ing and sliouting. But 
 there lay the mother and the other two daughtei-s, with 
 hands, faces, dresses, and carpet sprinkled with blood, 
 crying for mercy, while the few praying ones, joined 
 b}' the new convert, were singing and praying for 
 them. They were soon converted and rejoicing with 
 the rest. But the doctor did not hear the last of his 
 case of apoj)lexy for a long time. Noi- did the widow 
 feel that her house and family were disgracetl b}' the 
 religion of Jesus. The doctor suffered in his jirofes- 
 sion, for even the wicked thought he ought to know 
 his profession better. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 I HAD now been a local preacher for over four years, 
 and entitled, by Discipline and the usage of the 
 Church, to deacon's orders; and in June, 1819, I ap- 
 plied for and obtained from the quarterly conference a 
 recommendation to the Ohio Annual Conference for 
 ordination. 
 
 It has often been inquired, "What is there in a 
 name?" In my case I found that a name was worth 
 something in commanding respect and giving confi- 
 dence. I lived thirteen niiKs IVoin Warren, Trumbull 
 county, Ohio; having business in that town one day. 1 
 inquired if they hud preaching in town on the ensuing
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 211 
 
 Sabbath, and found there was no appointment out. 
 The Baptists were the only people who had regular 
 service in the town up to that time; but somehow there 
 was a vacancy on that day, and I obtained liberty to 
 use the court-house. So far as I could learn, no Meth- 
 odist minister had ever preached in the place; it was 
 something of a dashing or daring character for '-the 
 boy jDreacher" to make a push into what was then the 
 principal town or village on the Connecticut Western 
 Eeserve. But it seemed providential that I was led to 
 the place, at that particular time — the only time for 
 weeks, before and after, that the court-house was not 
 to be occupied. But it turned out well. 
 
 The only knowledge the people had of me up to 
 that time was as a soldier; and the fact that I was 
 known then to be a Methodist and a soldier, attracted 
 some attention and elicited some remarks. But hear- 
 ing til at he that was a Methodist soldier in the place, 
 in the late war, was to preach, drew out rather more 
 than an ordinary congregation. How well I performed 
 is not for me to sa^- ; but the result showed that it was 
 at least satisfactory'. A Baptist deacon invited me to 
 dinner, and as he was the principal man, in religious 
 matters, in the town, I presumed that a part of his 
 purpose in so doing was to ascertain my authority- to 
 preach, for he was particularly inquisitive as to whether 
 I was ordained or not. I told him I was not, but was 
 a candidate for ordination, and expected to receive or- 
 ders in August ensuing. This appeared to satisfy him, 
 so that there was something in a name. 
 
 I left home that morning, rode thirteen miles, 
 preached twice, and returned home the same day; 
 such was the effect that, in the ensuing Conference 
 year, a door was opened in that town for Methodist 
 preaching, which has since been kept open with good 
 effect.
 
 212 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 The Annual Conference met that year in Cincin- 
 nati, Oliio, three hundred or more miles from home. 
 Wlien brother Finley presented my case to the Con- 
 ference, as I was tohl, he said that within the past year 
 he had become better acquainted with me than he had 
 previously been, and was now satisfied that those ap- 
 jyenrances, for which I was rejected tiie year before, 
 were not real; thai they arose from natural and una- 
 voidable traits, and he was satisfied that 1 ought to bo 
 ordained and employed in the itinerancy. Tlie conse- 
 quence was that 1 was elected, and ordained by Bishop 
 Roberts, and the presiding elder was authorized to 
 employ me on the old Erie circuit. 
 
 Cincinnati, at that time, was comparatively a small 
 place. The old Wesley Chapel was a low, one-story stone 
 building, with brick wings at the back end, and there 
 was a new and unfinished two-story brick church some 
 distance from Wesley. These were then all the churches 
 we had in the city. 
 
 There were no water-works liuMi. and but two or 
 three public ])ump8 in wells to su])ply the city with wa- 
 ter. The most of the people bought river water that 
 was hauled up in large casks, on drays, and discharged 
 into barrels at the houses, in which were soon seen a 
 kind of animal much resembling a louse in size and 
 color, but of very quick motion in the water. This 
 water was not palatable to drink, and we, the visitors 
 to the Conference, to get drink in the hot weather of 
 August, ha<^l to seek the public pumps, or buy water- 
 melons to quench our thirst. 
 
 The Conference in those days sat with closed doors, 
 no one being admitted but members. The probation- 
 ers and local preachei-s present, used to congregate 
 outside of the house in which the Conlerence met, 
 which we jocosely called the lunrr housr. When there 
 was preaching, <lay or night, we were on hand to 2>ur-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 213 
 
 ticipate in the exercises, and we often had praj'er -meet- 
 ings and revivals of religion on such occasions. 
 
 In our ''lower house," I frequently met a local 
 preacher of the city, who was a druggist, and also con- 
 nected with a wholesale dry goods store, whose history 
 showed some of the fruits of early Methodism. He was a 
 physician in some part of Pennsylvania. 1 think in the 
 Susquehanna Valley, but becoming intemperate lost his 
 practice, and wandered away from home and family 
 a common drunkard. He somehow reached Pittsburg, 
 and got into a flat-boat — the usual mode of navigating 
 the river in those days — and was landed in Cincinnati. 
 
 Here he made himself known as a doctor, but being 
 a common drunkard no one employed him. As is 
 common with such characters, he could always find 
 means, somehow or other, to get whisky enough every 
 day to get drunk, and was often seen lying in the 
 street, when the boys hearing him called doctor, ridi- 
 culed him, and often covered him, face and eyes, with 
 dust or mud. 
 
 While in this plight one day, a man who knew him 
 in Pennsylvania in his better days, and now lived on 
 the Little Miami, some five miles from the city, saw 
 him, and recognizing him, and knowing him to be a 
 good doctor, when sober, took him into his wagon and 
 carried him home. This good Samaritan was a Method- 
 ist, and determined to save the fallen doctor. He told 
 him that he should stay with him, should have no liquor, 
 and must and should overcome his habits. To this the 
 doctor yielded ; but it was three months before he re- 
 covered a natural appetite, or could control his nerves 
 or muscles so as to work. 
 
 Being now in a house of prayer, and under moral 
 and religious influences, he began to think of his 
 soul and its eternal welftire. And as he recovered his 
 health, he accompanied his benefactor to the house of
 
 214 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 God, :»nd 8oon afU-r obtained religion. This divine and 
 radieal elian^e introduced him into a new world, and 
 inspired him with new hopes. Having disgraced him- 
 self and his protension. he determined never a^ain to 
 practice medicine, hut ^et a little larm and a lo^ cabin, 
 it" he could, and si-nd tor his liimily. whom he had ap- 
 prised of his whereabouts and hapj»y change, and also 
 his purposes for the future. 1[« soon found that labor 
 on the farm contributed largely to the increase of his 
 health and strength, etc., and in, say. six months, he 
 was a man again, but determined not to be a doctor; 
 but this purpose was soon thwarted. 
 
 It soon happened that a neighboring woman was in 
 dangerous labor, and there was no physician nearer than 
 the city. At this crisis his benefactress roused him up 
 at midnight and told him he must and should go and 
 put the woman to bed, that she would die if he did 
 not, for a j)hysician could not be got from the city 
 in time to sjive her. lie still refused. Hut it was urged 
 thai il" lir refuse<l the woman would «iir and he \\ould 
 be responsible before Ciod, and he linally yielded and 
 saved the woman. This, of course, gave him an intro- 
 duction to the ladies of the settlement, and his success 
 gained their confidence; and as women usually control 
 the house in the em])loyment of ])hysicians. he was soon 
 called on for medicine, advice, etc. But he had no 
 medicine, nor had he money or credit to procure any. 
 
 His friend urged him to resume the practice, and 
 to encourage him, went with him to the city, and was 
 his security for an outfit of medicine. And his success 
 soon secured him an extensive practice. He sent for 
 his family, and in a few years moved into the city, and 
 rose to the position in which I found him. 
 
 I'rniii thi> Conference at ( 'iMciiiiiati. I rcliiined 
 home with a lightir heart than 1 had had lor a long 
 time, and S4>on reached my «ircuit, the nearest ap^xjiDt-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 215 
 
 Qient of which was twenty-one miles fVoin my borne. 
 I had John Summerville for a colleague, who was in 
 charge of the circuit. 
 
 Old Erie circuit, at that time, embraced part of 
 Mercer, Crawford, Erie, Venango, and Butler counties, 
 in Pennsylvania, with a few appointments in North- 
 Eastern Ohio. It was four hundred miles round, hav- 
 ing fort^'-four appointments to fill in four weeks. In 
 one week we preached fourteen times and met twelve 
 classes. The roads in those times were extremely bad, 
 and no preacher thought of going on wheels to an ap- 
 pointment. Much of the way was through a dense 
 forest, with only a bridle path over logs and rocks, 
 through mud and water, where wheels had never run. 
 When these paths forked, our "guide-boards" were the 
 twigs of brush bent in the direction in which we si ould 
 go. But despite all this, as might be supposed, we 
 often missed our way, unless we had a guide for the 
 first time going from one place to another, yet I only 
 missed one appointment on this account in the whole 
 year. 
 
 In this one case, I left Dawson's to go to Oil Creek 
 at the ford; but missing my way I Avandered to the 
 left on to the brow of the hills or little mountains that 
 overlook the Alleghany Eiver, and was in the vicinity 
 of a most singular natural well. This was said to be 
 about six feet open at the top, and on the highest 
 ridge, but no bottom had then, if ever since, been 
 found. A constant current of air came out of it, and 
 of such a nature as to putrefy fresh meat in a few min- 
 utes. This fact was discovered by a hunter suspend- 
 ing some game in it by a rope, while he extended his 
 hunt a short time. The cause of this bad air was not 
 known. But the recent discovery of the coal oil in that 
 region, and on all sides of it, may, possibly, give some 
 clew to the phenomenon.
 
 216 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Oil and French Creeks, both of which we had to 
 cross, liad few bridges in those days. We had to ford 
 them, which was done sometimes when flat-boats and 
 rafts were riinnini^ them. We thoiiglit but little of 
 fordinj^ streams when the water came up to our saddle- 
 skirts, or to our l^nees, as we sat in the saddle. If the 
 water was swimming deej). we took off our saddles and 
 swam the horse by the side of a skitf or canoe. 
 
 This was the circuit fi-om which Bishop R. R. Rob- 
 erts started out to preach. His log residence and mill 
 were on our route, and jnissed on every round on the 
 circuit, and as often reminded us of that great and 
 good man. Many of his relatives lived there still, 
 a large portion of whom were connected with the 
 Church. 
 
 This year (1819-20) we commenced regular preach- 
 ing in Meadville. Methodist preachers had occasionally 
 preached there, but it was not on our plan. To reach 
 it we preached in the morning at Gravel Run, now 
 Cambridge, met class and then rode ten miles to reach 
 the town. We obtained the oUl court-house to preach 
 in, which has long since disappeared, and obtained 
 lodging as we could, sometimes with one and some- 
 times with another. As we had huge and attentive 
 congregations, we found numerous friends to lodge 
 with. Our ministry evidently made a favorable im- 
 pression, and the 3'ear following a class was formed, 
 whicii continued to grow till Methodism took a high 
 and respectable stand with other denominations. 
 
 As was usual in our introduction to any new jilace, 
 we had some opponents, who intimated that our extem- 
 poraneous preacliing was from memorizing other men's 
 sermons. Some who befriended us, were the relatives 
 and friends of Methodists over the mountains, and to 
 defend us from this charge, solicited te.xts to be given 
 ua, li-om which tliey pledged themselves that we should
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 217 
 
 preach. Two such texts were given; of course, they 
 were difficult ones, and my colleague declined to use 
 either of them. Being unwilling to be thus bluited off, 
 I preached from both, and gave such satisiaction as to 
 quiet all opposition from that quarter. 
 
 On one occasion, I gave the people an idea of our 
 ministry, our call of God to it, and our course of study, 
 by which, self-taught, we obtained our erudition. And 
 in giving the evidence of a divine call, quoted our rule 
 on that subject — has he gifts, has he grace, has he 
 fruit? if these be found in him, we believe he is called 
 of God to the work. I dwelt particularly upon the 
 fruity in the conversion of sinners, and quoted Paul's 
 language to the Corinthians, '■ Ye are the seals of my 
 apostleship," etc. I had no design in this, further than 
 to enlighten the people in the characteristics of Meth- 
 odism. But I found, on a subsequent round, that it 
 had hit the Presbyterian minister in the place, who 
 had asked for a dismission Irom his charge, alleging, as 
 the reason, that he had been preaching there for five 
 years, and he was not aware that one single soul had 
 been converted to God, and therefore concluded that 
 he was not called of God to preach in that place. 
 
 Meadville then, as now, was the Athens of North- 
 Western Pennsylvania, being the seat of Alleghany 
 College. This College was chartered, I think, in 1816. 
 The town contained as large a pro rata of the literati 
 of the State as any other, if not even larger ; because 
 the College naturally attracted that class of emigrants 
 to its vicinity, that they might enjoy its benefits, in the 
 education of their children. 
 
 There were two circumstances that favored us, in 
 this beginning; there was, at that time, no very popular 
 preacher in town of any other denomination, and our 
 off-hand shots being with life and animation, and zeal 
 and power, they very naturallv attracted the attention 
 
 19
 
 1*18 A Wi:STKkN PIONEER. 
 
 of the public. As the Mtthodists were becoming quite 
 numerous in the country, whose votes counted as fast 
 at an oIim tion as any othtrw, jioliticians, who usually 
 (•oniireicttto at the count}' seats, I nun iK^iity favored us, 
 tlioui^h they might be skeptical as to religion. These 
 heiuif among the respectahlos of the town, their attend- 
 JFig upon our ministry drew out othei*8, so that the old 
 court-house was usually tilled with hundreds of atten- 
 tive hearers. 
 
 We, also, commenced regular preaching in Mercer, 
 hut not under the same favorable circumstances. We 
 obtained the court-house to preach in, but could not 
 procure much of a congregation. Bigotry and super- 
 stition seemed to control. The man with whom we 
 lodged was a lawyer and politician, and though of 
 Methodist parents, and favored us on this ground, as 
 well :is policy, yet was f:ist goini; over the dam into a 
 (li-unkaiMls grave and a drunkard's hell. His wite was 
 an amiable woman, but much dispirited by the course 
 which he pursued, and perhaps entertained us more 
 from a hope that we should by souie means reclaim 
 her husband, than from a love to religion, though she 
 seemed to respect it. 
 
 Not being able to call out a congregation, 1 resorted 
 to a little of Lorenzo Dows i)olicy in such cases. I 
 said to those present, "From the smallness of the con- 
 gregation, it looks as if the people in this place are 
 tired of hearing the Word of God preached Irom, etc.; 
 therefore, when 1 come again in four weeks, I will 
 preach from the words of the devil." This had its 
 desired effect, tor the house was crowded, and one sin- 
 ner, that 1 knew of, was awakened and afterward con 
 verted. And we succeeded in fo lining a small class 
 before the year was out. 
 
 We had a general revival of religion on the circuit, 
 ami at the second quarter we had to enlarge it to six
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 219 
 
 weeks, and Thomas E,. Euckle was sent to assist us. 
 We labored hard, worked in harmony, and God crowned 
 our efforts with an increase of three hundred souls. 
 
 In the first half of the year I had the privilege of 
 visiting ray family once in four weeks, and spending 
 with them two days and three nights; but in the last 
 half of it I could have only one day and two nights, 
 once in six weeks. These were the days of sacrifice 
 and toil, and it touched my feelings to the quick when 
 my little boy inquired why I did not stay at home 
 with them, as other pas did with their children. 
 
 I had previously paid some attention to grammar, 
 but this year I gave it a more thorough study, memo- 
 rizing the rules as I rode from one appointment to 
 another, and when I met with one who understood it, 
 improved the time in parsing. I also read the equiva- 
 lent of about twenty-five octavo volumes. The life of 
 Dr. Coke, by Drew, T commenced on Monday after 
 preaching, and finished it on Friday while on m}' horse, 
 before I reached my appointment, having preached 
 each day. 
 
 In cold weather we had to read in the log-cabins, 
 and among the noisy children, there often being but 
 one room to cook, eat, preach, praj-, and sleep in for 
 the whole family. In warm weather, if we had an 
 hour to read, we resorted to the woods, from which 
 arose the name and title of '-Brush College," in which 
 the early Methodist preachers were said to have 
 graduated. 
 
 We occasionall}' came athwart a man of letters, so 
 called, because of his academic or collegiate advantages, 
 whom we would sometimes question till they became 
 weary. We were bent upon the acquisition of knowl- 
 edge, particularly such as pertained to our profession, 
 and therefore resorted to all honest and honorable 
 means tending to that object; our chief means was in
 
 2'20 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 books. In tlic Ro calltMl classics wc were })ehin«i wliat 
 nro called classical scholars. Hut in tlieoloiry. history. 
 philoso))hy. loi^ic. rhetoric, etc.. we were ahle to hoM our 
 own with them, and in the ultimate success of our 
 ministry proved that our mode of study was fully e(jual, 
 if not superior, to the schools. 
 
 In those days controversy was the order of the <lay. 
 Calvinism was our chief opponent; but Univcrsalism, 
 deism, and atheism received duo attention. We had 
 also to meet and refute the erroi-s of Arius and Socinus, 
 in which we were tolerably successful. 
 
 My rule of study was to observe the lani:uai,^e and 
 enunciation of the most approved speakers and authors, 
 and adopting their style as my own, but in my own 
 manner. 
 
 In the coui-se of this year we held two camp-meet- 
 inii;s on our circuit, holh of which were attended with 
 great power and resulted in much good. 
 
 In addition to these I attendetl a camp-meeting at 
 North-East, R. C. Hatton preaclier in charge, under 
 circumstances rather out of the ordinary coui*se of 
 things. The work of religion was at a very low ebb on 
 the circuit. Hatton was troubled with the hypochon- 
 dria to such an extent that, under its influence, he had 
 gieatly neglecte<l his w(>rk, and seemed to have lost all 
 influence among his jieople. The camp-ground was half 
 a mile from the village; it was an old one; but some- 
 how he had not energy or influence enough to induce 
 his jieople t<^ clear off the fallen brush and limbs, or 
 arrange the seats and preAchei*8' tent, stand, etc. 
 
 Foui- preachers of us went upon the ground and had 
 to clear otV the fallen limbs, arrange the seats, fix the 
 stand, and clear the old straw out of tiie jutachers' tent 
 and burn it to get rid of the fleas. In the mean time 
 our horses were sent to a rich farmer, a Methodist, by 
 Hatton's direction, and it being June, we presumed
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 221 
 
 that hay was scarce, or all gone, and thorefove requested 
 that they might have pasture and grain twice a day. 
 The boy came back with them, saying, '' He says he has 
 no pasture to spare." but did not tell the w^iole story, 
 which was that he had no pasture, but had hay and 
 grain. The boy thinking it must be pasture or nothing, 
 came back with his unwelcome message. This rather 
 induced the idea that the people whom we had come 
 to serve were retrograding to heathenism, and that we 
 must put our shoulders to the wheel in good earnest. 
 Hatton seemed to feel worse than ever, but turned 
 round and found a place for our horses. 
 
 Hatton was a man wlio stood some inches higher 
 than the mass of men; he had a beautiful form of per- 
 son; he was very gentlemanly in his demeanor and 
 intercourse with others, when himself: he was intelli- 
 gent and of superior preaching powers, and well 
 calculated to make a favorable impression upon stran- 
 gers at first view. The temperament of his mind was 
 nervous, and he was either on the mountain top or in 
 the slough of despondency. 
 
 When in company with preachers he was full of 
 glee and jocose. I heard him sa}' once, when in such a 
 glee, on his way to Conference, that he should w^eep in 
 loneliness for two weeks after he got home ; but he said 
 he did n't care, he enjoyed himself so well in company 
 with his brethren that he was willing to have the 
 dumps for a month after it, for the sake of the pleasure 
 he enjoyed at one Conference. 
 
 He was studious and communicative except when 
 under depression of spirits, and then he was very mo- 
 rose, absent-minded and disagreeable in company, and 
 paying no attention to books. This disease — for such it 
 is — is usually produced by studious and sedentary 
 habits, and on persons of strong nervous sensibilities. 
 In his case, and generallj^ in others of like temperament
 
 222 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 and habitH, lie luul liin ups and downs, and hifi ne^loct 
 of appoiiitnient.s wlien under dej)reHsi()n, deKtroyeil his 
 influeneo, and led to the state of things we Ibund in his 
 charge. 
 
 A few specimens ot the effect* and consequences of 
 this dire diHease nia}' nerve as a warning to others thus 
 inclined. 
 
 In going to an api)oiiitnient. one Sunday morning, 
 ho saw a dog tliat ])leasLd liini. and agreed with the 
 owner to give ten doUars for him, when he returned; 
 being absent-minded, he had forgotten tlie day of the 
 week, and the business lie was on. When he "came to 
 himself" and recollecting the day and his business, and 
 that he had no earthly use for the dog on any day of 
 the week, he sank down almost into despair of any 
 mercy, or forgiveness, from God; but he never called for 
 the dog. 
 
 At one time, after preaching at night, while in deep 
 despondency of mind, lie went to his horse, which iie 
 had hitched in the corner of a fence, and, without un- 
 hitching the bridle, mounted the horse, with his face to 
 the rear, and struck his spurs into the horse's sides, 
 which made him sj^rirjg forward, and tilt the rider over 
 his tail on to the ground. This brought him to his 
 senses, when he unhitched, and rode off in good order. 
 
 At another time he went to preach in a school-house, 
 the joists of which were rather low, hut high enough to 
 clear his head a foot, or more. After sitting a while, l»o 
 rose and went out, stooping, as if crawling under some- 
 tliing, and took a seat <)n a stum)). The c<>ngregatici 
 waited, became impatient, and one went to him to know 
 if he was not going to preach. 
 
 "Yes," ho said, " if you will como out hero; but I 
 can't statid uj) inside of the house; don't you sec how 
 tall I am, all at once?' 
 
 " O pehaw ! it is only your notion ; you arc no larger
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 223 
 
 than common ; and you have preached there many a 
 time. Come along, the people are waiting." 
 
 " Well, I can try it ; but I know that I can 't stand 
 up in that room;" and he walked in, stooping, as if it 
 was really as he suj^posed. The people understood his 
 freaks, and began to titter and laugh. On seeing this 
 he felt rather roused, as if they had questioned his 
 word, and to show them that he was right, raised up at 
 full length, expecting to hit his head against the joists; 
 but meeting with no obstruction in his upwai"d motion. 
 a flush of shame flashed across his feelings, and drove 
 off' the fit, and he preached in his usual way. 
 
 But the climax of his foWy, in such freaks, occurred 
 in the presence of Dr. Bostwick. Hatton was preach- 
 ing, and all at once imagined that the top of his head, 
 from his mouth upward, had left its position, and as- 
 cended to the ceiling above, and that he must sit down, 
 and sit still, till it descended to its place again, holding 
 his head in the right ])osition, lest his nose should be 
 on one side. As this thought suddenly occurred to his 
 mind, he, as suddenly, stopped j^reaching and sat down, 
 requesting the Doctor to finish the discourse. The 
 Doctor, understanding his case, and also the subject he 
 was discussing, rose, and began where Hatton had left 
 off, and went on as if it was his own subject. Hatton 
 listened a while, and was so pleased to think that the 
 Doctor took the same views of the subject that he did, 
 began to cheer up, and on feeling of his face, finding 
 his head in position, and his nose on the right side of 
 it, he jumped up, and said, "Doctor, I can finish now,", 
 and went on to the close. Such cases could be greatly 
 multiplied, but this is sufficient for present purposes. 
 
 Hatton, as might be expected, was improvident in 
 temporal, as well as spiritual, things. If he received but 
 little, he would screw along somehow, with bitter moan- 
 ings; but if he received much, it all went; he laid up
 
 224 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 iiulliing. But poor pay, i\\o natural conscquoiKc of 
 neglect of appointments, bore 80 heavily upon IjIh niiiul 
 that, having ''a call" to the Cumborhmd Presbyterians, 
 he acce])te(l it, and went to Nashvillo. Tennessee, about 
 the year 1834. Soon '-finding liiniBelf in the wrong 
 box," he was said to have returned to the Methodist 
 Episeopal Church, and the last 1 heard of him he was 
 still there, beloved and respected, and in a good old 
 age; but falling within the Southern secession, went 
 with that Church in 1845. 
 
 But to return to the camp-meeting at Xorth-East. 
 The blunder of the boy, in reference to our horses, 
 tended to rouse up our energies, if possible, to save the 
 people of that vicinity. The encam]>ment was large for 
 a si)arsely settled country. The i)reaching and prayer- 
 meetings were attended with gnat power, and with 
 most signal success. The awakening of sinners soon 
 commenced, and the altar, the prayer-circles, and 
 prayer-tents, were soon filled with penitents, and con- 
 verts were nuniei-ous. The moral atmosjihere of the 
 j)lace was, like the ground upc»n which Moses stood be- 
 iore the burning bush, holy; the thousands in attend- 
 ance seemed to be awe-struck as soon as they came 
 upon the ground. 
 
 A naval officer, from Erie, with his marquee, and 
 marines in attendance, took a position in the circle of 
 tents. He came, he said, to enjoy a season of camping 
 out, and seeing the multitudes in attendance, more for 
 recreation and health than otherwise; but he was 
 •greatly surprised at the religious influence pervading 
 the ground. ''It is," he said, "the most solemn j)lace I 
 was ever in ; as awful as the day of judgment." 
 
 On Salurduy night, Wm. Swayze, the ]>residing elder, 
 as h(^ was wonl lo do under such excitements, sprang 
 from tiie stand, and went out among the people, and it 
 he found one who was wounded in spirit, but had not
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 225 
 
 courage enough to go forward for prayers, he would in- 
 vite, and lead hira to the altar. In such efforts he was 
 more successful than most others, and he, apparently, 
 thus saved many, who would have, otherwise, resisted 
 and grieved the Good Spirit. 1 had preached upon the 
 general judgment, and Swaj'ze exhorted after me, in one 
 of hie haj^piest strains, having a gift for such efforts. 
 An awe-striking solemnity pervaded the whole assem- 
 bly. The naval officer, who always sat on the front 
 seat, next to the altar, and behaved in the most gentle- 
 manly manner, on seeing and hearing Swayze out 
 among the congregation, evidently turned pale, and 
 afterward, said, "I think I shall not feel more solemn 
 at the bar of God !" 
 
 On Sunday the congregation was large, and very 
 solemn. At three o'clock, Hatton, who had got his 
 harness on anew, poured forth a torrent of eloquence 
 and truth, which, being accompanied by great power 
 from above, made the sinner tremble in his shoes. All 
 at once two men sprang from their seats, and ran to the 
 rear of the congregation, and meeting there, one said to 
 the other, "I never saw such men before as these Metii- 
 odist preachers are. They seem to be determined that 
 people shall get religion whether they want it or not. 
 That fellow who is preaching, and the one sitting be- 
 hind him, had got their eyes on me, and they were 
 both just a-going to spring out and seize me, and drag 
 me into the prayer-meeting, as they did last night, and 
 I but just made my escape." " Wh}-," said the other, 
 " that was what they were going to do to me, and I did 
 but just escape them;" and they both concluded to go 
 home, and not be caught so. 
 
 One of them, from whom we afterward got the story, 
 went home, eight miles, spent a sleepless night, and 
 having no appetite to eat, returned to the camp-ground 
 Monday morning. Going up to the first prayer-circle
 
 226 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 lie came to, he saw llio other man on his knees, in great 
 earnestness, seeking the salvation of his soul, and he 
 fell down uj)on his knccH by his side, where both were 
 haj)])ily converted. 
 
 Monday was the great day of the feast. Wo had 
 some preaching, but most of the time was spent in 
 prayer -meetings, with and for j)enitents. Aniung the 
 attractions to spectators was the talk of a good sister 
 Chamberlain. She exhorted, and talked of religion for 
 three hours, in one incessant flow of the most powerful 
 and convincing eloquence. There was so much of 
 heaven in it and in her looks, that all who came within 
 hearing were charmed to the spot. One unconverted 
 lawyer listened to her for some time, "when he turned 
 away with tearful e^es, and exclaimed, ''My God, who 
 can stand that!" While thus talking, some one brought 
 her babe to her, which needed some attention, and she 
 sat in a chair and nursed it, continuing her talk, as be- 
 fore. The innocent look of the babe, added to the heav- 
 enly look of the mother, seemed to add to the purity of 
 the scene. 
 
 In one of my sermons I had taken particular pains 
 to explain and defend the bodily exercises, oi" which 
 wo had considerable on the ground ; and remarketl that 
 I never knew one to be hurt by it, for ceitainly if it be 
 of God no one can be injured by it. Altei- 1 letl the 
 stand I was pointed to a young woman wlm, it was .said, 
 often got hurt b}' such falling. I inquired of her father 
 if it were so, and he said it was. 'Then," said I, "tell 
 her !iot to jump or fail an> n»orr, or I will r.xpose her 
 before the people, for it is her own doings, and not of 
 (lod. otherwise she would not be injui'ed ;" and 1 .saw 
 or lu-anl mo more ol" lu-r jiimj)ing, shouting, or falling. 
 This was the only case ot the kind that ever came to 
 my knowledge, which was not repeated, so far as 1 ever 
 knew.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 227 
 
 At an early period of tlie meeting, two young ladies 
 were awakened, and went forward for prayers. Their 
 mother, a widow, though a member of a Church, 
 rushed in like a maniac, and dragged them out, forbid- 
 ding the repetition of the act. They gradually sank 
 back into their previous hardened state, and lost their 
 convictions. But before the meeting closed this mother 
 was brought down upon her knees, and soundly con- 
 verted. She then sought her daughters, and de- 
 sired them to go into the prayer-circle, but they re- 
 fused. The mother was now distressed for them, and 
 feared that they would be lost, and their blood would 
 be required at her hands. She besought them with 
 tears, but to no purpose. After the meeting closed, on 
 Tuesday, she requested to have preaching at her house, 
 in the village, that night, which was granted. The great 
 ground of her oj^position, at first, was the mourners'- 
 bench, but now, having tested its utility in her own 
 case, she thought there was nothing like it. After the 
 preaching at her house she stepped up to Swayze, and 
 said, " Sir, won't 3'ou please call up the mourners ?" He 
 did so; and she had the unspeakable happiness of see- 
 ing he^' two daughters come forward, with others, who 
 were happily converted to God. 
 
 The fruit of this meeting was said to be not less 
 than two hundred conversions, besides the general 
 quickening of the membership in that region. 
 
 In the early part of 1820, in convei'sation with sev- 
 eral preachers on the great extent of our Conference 
 limits, and the great distance we had to travel in going 
 to and returning from Conference, I suggested the pro- 
 priety of a petition to the General Conference, to meet 
 in May of that year, to set off a new Conference, to be 
 called Pittsburg, embracing that city as a central point. 
 The proposition took favorably, and at their request I 
 drew up one, which was adopted by all the quarterly
 
 228 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 conferences in the district, anil 8ent on. Jiut as no 
 Huch petitionB came in from other Conferences, and hh 
 the Haiti more deiei^ates had not been inRtnicted on the 
 Huhject, they declined to act favorably, and the request 
 was not granted. Four years afterward, however, that 
 is. in 1H24, the new Conference was organized as then 
 j)rayed tor. 
 
 At the last quarterly-meeting conference for this year 
 I wa.s again recommended to the Ohio Annual Confer- 
 ence, to be received on trial in the itineiancy. The 
 Conference was to meet at Chillicothe, Ohio, and 1 
 thought it best to bo on hand, so as to be seen and 
 known by the preachers, and meet objections if any 
 should be made. The old adage is, 'If 3'ou want any 
 thing done, send; but if you want it well dune, go 
 yourself" 
 
 On my way to Conference I attended a camp-meet- 
 ing near Zanesville. Jacob Young, the presiding eld»T, 
 was not present, and the meeting was managed by 
 brother Hooper, the preacher in charge. I arrived on 
 F^ritlay, and at 3 o'clock on that day preached my tirst 
 sermon in that region. On Sunday at 3 o'clock 1 was 
 put up again, in both of which I was greatly owned 
 and blessed of God. 
 
 On .Sunday I wound up my discourse by inviting 
 mourners into the altar. This was soon tilled. I then 
 called out to those still coming to form a prayer-cir- 
 cle outside of the altar; this being done, and others 
 still coming, other circles were loimed, until marly 
 the whole ground wjis covered with them, while many 
 wen* praying in their tents. Such a powerful outpour- 
 ing of the Spirit I never witnessed before or since. an<l 
 I have often thought tiuit God lavorcd me then and 
 there, that tlu- re]»ori ot it at Conference might ait! in 
 my a<imission. 
 
 NVhi II 1 Ull the stand and went into the preachers'
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 229 
 
 tent, quite exhausted from a two hours' effort, 1 found 
 Father Michael Ellis, then the oldest member of the 
 Ohio Conference, walking back and forth, wringing his 
 hands and groaning in his peculiar manner when 
 happy. As soon as he saw me he threw his arms 
 round my neck and pressed me to his bosom, and let 
 out one of his peculiar groans with an ahem, and said, 
 '•Bub, you beat your fathers.' 
 
 There was no more preaching on the ground. 
 Brother Hooper said the Lord was preaching, and he 
 would not break up those prayer meetings for any one 
 to preach, not even the Bishop. There was no cessa- 
 tion of prayer and praise till 8 o'clock next morning, 
 when the meeting closed, as we had to leave for Con- 
 ference. Possibly if God had not thus favorably owned 
 me, prejudice, unfounded as before, might have pre- 
 vailed against me at Conference. 
 
 When I met Jacob Young, from whom i received 
 my first license to preach, he met me cordially, shook 
 my hand heartily, and said he was glad to see me. 
 When my case came before the Conference he said he 
 should vote for me on the recommendation of brother 
 Swayze, my presiding elder ; but he feared that I 
 should cause them trouble. This, when reported to 
 me, was a heavy blow. What was the reason that I 
 must meet with repulses from those men whom I loved 
 above all others? Why should I be so unalterably con- 
 victed of my duty, and receive such signal manifes- 
 tations of the Divine approbation in doing it, and yet 
 have every step toward it hedged up or strewed with 
 thorns ? 
 
 My motives I knew to be pure. I relinquished 
 other and more lucrative business, including the legal 
 profession which I had designed to enter, for the sake 
 of the ministry. If it could have been so, I felt willing 
 to have a pane of glass in my breast, that others
 
 280 A WESTKKN PIONEER. 
 
 might see the purity of my iiit«ntion8, and desire to 
 do good to my fellow-men. Why, then, must 1 \h- 
 doomed to this continued and unciasing o|>|M>siii(jn 
 from men whom I believed to be aiming at the same 
 object? All this waw involved in impenetrable dark- 
 ness. But 3*et it was some relief to be admitte<i to a 
 place in the itinerancy. Brother Youngs fears have 
 not been nalizod. I am not aware that 1 have caused 
 any trouble to the Church, but hoiMi and trust that I 
 have been of some use. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BEING now an itinerant, though on trial, I felt the 
 increased responsibility of my relation to the 
 Church. My aj)pointnu'nt for this 3ear (1820; was 
 read out for Cuyahoga ciixuit, which la}' south of 
 Cleveland. 
 
 On my way home from Conference I spent a Sab- 
 bath at Zanesville. I went to church, as usual, and 
 Thomas A. Morris— now Bishop Morris — who had been 
 stationed there for the two ]»receding years, preached 
 his farewell sermon, preparatory to going to his new 
 charge. When he closed he called on David Young, 
 an old and much-respected minister, who was suj)er- 
 annuated and lived in the place, to close the meet- 
 ing. Before leaving the house, however, brother Mor- 
 ris invited me to preach that afternoon. I did so, but 
 under rather depressed feelings, for both Young and 
 Morris kept aloof from the pulpit, and Young, Y'ankee- 
 like. sat all the time in a slip whittling a stick. Mor- 
 ris, however, came up and closed the service. This 
 apparent neglect to a stranger was noticed by some
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 231 
 
 brethren, and spoken of in my presence after meeting. 
 But I let it pass as a part of the " hard row I had to 
 hoe;" and, on account of my youth, etc., I felt hum- 
 bled, but felt no murmuring disposition. 
 
 In a few months from this I received a letter from 
 brother Morris, stating that he had been informed of 
 my intention to prefer charges against him at Confer- 
 ence for disrespect or negligence, on the occasion just 
 mentioned, and wished to be furnished with a copy of 
 them that he might prepare for his defense. 
 
 This took me entirely by surprise. I knew nothing 
 of it; I had no such design ; and had not expressed to 
 any one anj^ thing to draw such an inference from. 
 Brother Swayze, my presiding elder, was apprehensive 
 that some trick was on foot to raise a storm on me 
 with a view to oust me from the itinerancy. This I 
 could not believe. '-To the pure all things are pure." 
 I had no evil designs on any one, and could not sus- 
 pect such on me. Still, from this incident, coming on 
 the heels of so much trouble, trifling as it was in itself, 
 I could but think that something was wrong some- 
 where, whatever might be the motive. I wrote to 
 brother Morris that I knew nothing about the matter; 
 I had no such design, nor had authorized any one to 
 use my name in any such connection. This ended the 
 matter. The only solution that I could ever obtain of 
 the origin of this rumor was, that some brethren in 
 Zanesville, who felt aggrieved at the appai-ent coolness 
 of my reception, had talked of it, and 2:)robably ex- 
 pressed the opinion that it ought to be so, from which 
 others inferred that it would be so. But if even I had 
 felt aggrieved, such a complaint for such a cause never 
 entered into my views of propriety. 
 
 I went to my circuit and partly round it, when E 
 attended a camp-meeting, at which I met James M'Ma- 
 hon, who was appointed to Mahoning circuit, on which
 
 232 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 my family lived, wliile Ins family lived on my circuit, 
 and lie proposed a clmn^e, as we sliould both be better 
 accommodated by it, aud the ])cople would not be the 
 losers. As the presiding elder was agreed to it, the 
 exchange was niade. 
 
 On Mahoning circuit Ezra Booth was appointed 
 with M'Mahon, and, being m}' senior in the ministry, 
 the charge was given to him. His family also lived 
 on the circuit. The circuit then included the most of 
 Trumbull count}-, and part of Portage. Trumbull then 
 included what is n(jw Mahoning county. It was one 
 hundred and fifty miles round, having about thirty ap- 
 pointments, which we filled in five weeks, having two 
 and three weeks between our visits. This was the cir- 
 cuit to which I had belonged, since I came to Ohio, 
 till I was received into the Conference. Of course, I 
 was as -a prophet in his own country- ;" but I was not 
 aware that I had no- honor from the people on that ac- 
 count. Indeed, it was this same people that literally 
 demanded of the presiding elder (Finley) that I should 
 be emploj-ed in the itinerancy, and the}' had no objec- 
 tions to receiving me as one of their preachers. The 
 plan was so arranged that I could visit my family once 
 a week for three out of the five weeks in going round. 
 This was an accommodation not before enjoyed. 
 
 Myself and colleague worked in harmon}-, and we 
 enjoyed a good degree of prosperity, having several 
 revivals, which resulted in an increase of about one 
 hundred and fifty members. 
 
 On this circuit lived Amos Smith, a local elder, who 
 was one of the fathers of the circuit, and had acted the 
 part of father toward me, and had aided in i)rocuring 
 my first license to preach. lie was, and had been for 
 some years, confined to his house by the dropsy and 
 asthma, and for some time was confined to his arm- 
 chair, being unable to sleep if he lay down, day or night.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 233 
 
 Owing to his inability to get out to the usual place 
 of preaching, in the society to which he belonged, I 
 made an extra appointment at night, at his house, after 
 preaching to the society in tlie day-time. Respect for 
 the old father in Israel, more probabl}^ than a desire 
 to hear me, drew out a large congregation. But I was 
 in trouble, and experienced what I never did before or 
 since. The Bible was a perfectly sealed book to me, 
 as to a text, except one passage on which uncommon 
 light shone. The text would have been suitable after 
 his death, but to use it before^ ai^peared to be inappro- 
 priate. But such was the darkness of my mind to any 
 other text that it had to be that or none. 
 
 The text was the last words of Paul to Timothy: 
 "I am now read}' to be offered, and the time of my 
 departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I 
 have finished my course, I have kept the faith : Hence- 
 forth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, 
 which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at 
 that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also 
 that love his appearing." 2 Tim. iv, 6-8. I apologized 
 for taking the text, which seemed so much like preach- 
 ing his funeral sermon before his death, b}' stating the 
 fact as above given. I trembled at the thought. But 
 what else could I do? The appointment was made to 
 accommodate the good man ; the congregation had as- 
 sembled, and possibl}^ it was the last opportunity he 
 would have of hearing from another the Word of life 
 before he should be called home, and I therefore yielded 
 to what seemed to me to be a necessity. 
 
 After making the above statement in reference to 
 the text. I remarked that, after all, there was a fitness 
 in the subject to the occasion, only reversing the order, 
 and let him take the text and me be the hearer, for I 
 stood in a relation to Father Smith somewhat analogous 
 to that of Timothy to Paul, as he had been a father to 
 
 20
 
 234 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 ine, ami lia<i ai<le<l mo in getting into tlic ministry, etc. 
 I felt ^ntat tVecdom in speaking, and thv Divine pres- 
 ence WAS j)<>\\orfully prestMit. 
 
 At tlie close of the exercises, a** 1 wan about to pro- 
 nounco the benediction, Father Smith requested tho 
 audience to be seated, and be very still, as he (iesired 
 to say a few thin<^ to them, possibly for the last time 
 in this worUf. Wiien all were seated and silent, he 
 said : 
 
 "With most of you, my friends, I have had many 
 happy meetings, but in all probability this will be our 
 lust meeting in this world. Of one thing 1 have been 
 convinced for more than twenty -five years, and that is, 
 that the most dangei'ous ground a man can be on is 
 that of building his hopes of heaven on a mere desire 
 for religion. You have that desire, and who thanks 
 you for it? God gives it to you. whether you want 
 or not. But it is a prisetit salvation we need. We 
 must be saved from our sins here, or we have no well 
 grounded hope of heaven. 
 
 "And now, my friends, I leave it as my last will and 
 testament, for the comfort of my family and friends, 
 that I would not give what 1 now feel in my soul, my 
 present peace, and future prosj)ect8, for a thousand such 
 worlds as this. If it j)lease (iod that I get well, I am 
 content; if it please him that I linger along for three or 
 four years, 1 am resigned; and it it please him that I 
 die now, amen to it, his will be done." 
 
 As this was spoken he droppeii his liead over on to 
 the back of his chair and died without a sigh or groan; 
 there was no motion save simj)ly the breath leaving the 
 body. 
 
 The congregation were awe<l into silence, as a mat- 
 ter of course, and no one stirred till he was gone, when 
 one of his daughters came up, ami taking hold of iiis 
 hand, exclaimed: "(), he has often j)rayed that ho
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 235 
 
 might die in meeting witli iiis brethren, and now his 
 prayer has been answered." 
 
 His remarks on the necessity of a present salvation, 
 and not to build our hopes of heaven on a mere desire 
 for it, I thought were intended for a neighbor of his, 
 who was there, and in just that state of mind, and who 
 was killed at a raising two weeks after; so that this was 
 probably the last warning he had upon that subject. 
 
 On this circuit also lived Dr. Shadrach Bostwick, 
 who was also a father to me, and to all young preachers 
 who traveled the circuit. He was, in fact, a professor 
 and teacher in our '-Brush College," and his house was a 
 theological school, where he gave many lectures and 
 model sermons, from which we obtained much useful 
 knowledge pertaining to our holj^ calling. As I have 
 seen no memoir of him, it is proper that something 
 should be said of him, to rescue his name from oblivion. 
 
 He was born, as near as I can ascertain, in 1772, in 
 the State of Maryland, and w\as designed and educated 
 for the medical ])rofession. He was converted when 
 young, and entered the itineraney in 1791, when but 
 nineteen years of age. He traveled in Marjiand, New 
 Jcrse}', New York, New England, and Ohio, in all four- 
 teen years. He was a presiding elder in Xew York 
 and New England four years, when he married, and as 
 there was no competent provision then for married 
 men, necessity compelled him to accept the offer of his 
 wife's father of some wild lands in Ohio, on the "West- 
 ern Eeserve, and in 1803 we find him a missionary^ so 
 called — but without any missionary society, or funds 
 for the support of such men — on Deerfield circuit, 
 where he first settled. 
 
 This removal brought him within the limits of the 
 Baltimore Conference, which then extended to Lake 
 Erie, in which he commenced to travel, and to which he 
 was transferred. But such was the distance and the
 
 236 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 difficulty of ti*avelin^ through such a vast wilderness, 
 that he never saw a presiding elder, nor attended Con- 
 lerence for the two years that he continued m this 
 relation. Being compelled to provide for himself and 
 family, ho wrote to the Conference for a location, and 
 Avas so returned on the Minutes in 1805. 
 
 While on this mi.ssion circuit it was impossible to 
 travel far in Winter from the want of roads and bridges. 
 As the little class in Deerfield were not able to support 
 him, and his farm not being yet productive, he taught 
 school in the Winter, and traveled as far as he could 
 in the Summer, mean time prosecuting his medical 
 studies. 
 
 Previous to his entering the itinerancy he had made 
 some proficiency in the science of medicine, and while 
 traveling he had also read considerable .upon the sub- 
 ject, not knowing but that necessity might some day 
 compel him to fall back upon his own resources. Being 
 now in that circumstance, he made the best prepara- 
 tion he could — having to go to Pittsburg, ninety miles, 
 on horseback for medicine — and entered u]>on the 
 practice. He soon after moved to Oanfield as offering a 
 better field to practice in, and became quite eminent as 
 a physician, and accumulated a handsome fortune. 
 
 His house was ever open to the itinerant, and his 
 purse ever open liberally for his support. As a local 
 j)reacher he had his regular round of appointments, to 
 visit each once in four weeks, with the understanding 
 that if sickness or professional calls ])revented his 
 attendance, he would be there the next four weeks. He 
 would always meet the ]>reachers at their week-day ap- 
 pointments, when in his neighborhood, unless prevented 
 by sickness or professional calls, and was very punctual 
 in his attendance at the quarterly-meetings, of which, 
 for many yiars. he was reconling steward, and ho was 
 the Mentor of the circuit.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 237 
 
 He was for some time without a class at the place of 
 his residence; but finally a large society' was raised up 
 there, and a fine brick church was built upon land do- 
 nated by him, and much aided by his funds. He died 
 since I came to Wisconsin, but I learn that his end was 
 peaceful and triumphant. 
 
 As a preacher Dr. Bostwick stood in the highest 
 rank. He was not what in these times is called a 
 topical or fashionable one; that is, taking a text and 
 discussing one topic, whether in the text or not; but he 
 was a textual preacher; he took a text and explained it. 
 In this he was a model preacher. He was expected to 
 and usuall}^ did preach once at every quarterly-meeting 
 or camp-meeting he attended, and always to the 
 edification of the peoj^le. 
 
 He was of very pleasing personal appearance, gen- 
 tlemanly in his deportment, highly intelligent, full of 
 interesting anecdote, very communicative to all, but 
 especially so to young preachers, whom he took jmrticu- 
 lar pains and pleasure in assisting to qualify for their 
 high and holy calling. His lectures by his fireside, his 
 illustrative anecdotes, and analysis of knotty Script- 
 ure questions were equal to the lectures of modern 
 theological schools. 
 
 His training for the ministry was at a time and in 
 an age when some jDeople thought that Methodist 
 preachers were a kind of outlaws, whom any one had a 
 right to attack, ridicule, or even annihilate in argument 
 if he could. Almost all the preaching of his day was 
 of a controversial character. Criticisms were fully in- 
 dulged in, and little attention was paid to genteel or 
 courteous disputation. As a matter of course, and a 
 natural consequence, the constant rubbing Methodist 
 preachers got upon the edge made them sharp in that 
 part, and whoever came in contact with them, usually 
 got badly cut. But as Bostwick excelled in repartee, a
 
 238 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 few anecdotes will not only illustrate his character in 
 this particular, l»ut iiho tliat part of our early histcjry 
 as a Church. 
 
 From Rev. W. Swayze, who l"ollowe<l Boslwick in 
 some of his New England fields of labor, I learned the 
 following : 
 
 While Bostwick was jn-eniding elder, he happened 
 to come athwart a Doctor of Divinity on this wise: 
 This D. D. had, a short time before, taken one of our 
 members to task for suffering these ignorant Methodist 
 j)renehers to preach in his house. 
 
 '* Why," said the brother, • what harm is there in 
 so doing, if they can get sinners convei-ted to God, and 
 reform their lives?" 
 
 "Harm!" said the D. D.. • why, harm enough ; don't 
 you know that they are ignorant and unlearned? 
 They do not even understand English grammar, and 
 much less the dead languages, and how can they teach 
 ]>eople the way to heaven ?" 
 
 "Why, Doctor, is the way lo heavm thrniii,^li Iho 
 (lead languages, or through the Bible?" 
 
 "The Bible, of course ; but tliey must know the 
 dead languages to understand that book." 
 
 "But did not the translators of the Bible under- 
 stand those languages, and have they not given us their 
 true meaning?" 
 
 "Why, yes, I supjiose so." 
 
 "Well, if we can read the English Bible, do wo not 
 read the truth, then ?" 
 
 " Why, yes ; but we deem it necessary for men to be 
 college bred to be fit to ])reach." 
 
 " Well, Doctor, have ycMi ever heard a Methodist 
 ])reacher? 
 
 "No; nor d<> 1 waul l.> I havt* hoard enough 
 about them." 
 
 '*Wcll, but, Doctor, does our law condemn a man
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 239 
 
 before it heiirs him? Would it not be fair to hear a 
 man before you pass sentence on him?" 
 
 This was a poser for the Doctor, and he admitted 
 that it would be but just to do so. 
 
 "Well, Doctor, I expect one to preach at my house 
 on such a day, and at such an hour," naming them, 
 ''and I would be glad to see you present." To which 
 he agreed. 
 
 " But, Doctor, I must inform you that the preacher 
 is a young man; this is his first year, and we call him 
 one of our boys. You, of course, will not exjDect as 
 much from him as from an older head." 
 
 "^0;" said the Doctor, "I can make allowance for 
 the youth and inexperience of a man." 
 
 From this, word got out that Dr. S. was going to 
 hear the Methodist preacher, and the people thought 
 they might go, also, without sinning any more than 
 their pastor did. It was expected that the learned 
 Doctor would use uj) the ignorant preacher in short 
 order ; so, a crowd came out to hoar and see the fun. 
 
 But it so happened thnt Bostwick, on his way round 
 his district, called at the place just before the preaching 
 hour, and as he was the presiding elder, he must 
 preach. But it did not occur to them to inform him 
 of the expected audience, not knowing certainly that 
 it would be on hand. But they came. Nor did it 
 occur to the good brother to inform Dr. S. of the 
 change in preachers, leaving him under the impression 
 that it was the hoy who preached. 
 
 The discourse was an able one, containing no dis- 
 putable doctrines ; and being such, and extemporaneous 
 at that, a very favorable impression was made on the 
 minds of the audience. This Dr. S. thought he must 
 efface, or he should lose ground with his people. So 
 he hung on after the meeting was closed, and the 
 brother introduced him to brother Bostwick, with
 
 240 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 whom hr i in mediately commenced a conversation ui)on 
 P^n^lish grammar. 
 
 Bostwick HuspectiMl the object, and bein^ an able 
 scholar, met the inquisitive Doctor on his own nelected 
 field, where he soon showed his skill and knowledge of 
 his mother tongue. 
 
 The Doctor failing on liiis jxfint, turned ot!" uj)<»n 
 Latin and Greek. Of these liostwick had some knowl- 
 edge, perhaps as much as the Doctor himself — for but 
 few ot such braggarts are good scholars — and here he 
 failed again, and showed signs of leaving. 
 
 But Bostwick being wide awake to sueh attiicks, 
 launched off upon the Hebrew as being the mother of 
 languages, and also quoted some (lernian and P'rench, 
 of whieh he had some little knowledge, obtained by 
 mingling with those peoj^le. Knowing that the Doctor 
 was entirely at sea, without chart or compass, when he 
 left the Latin and Greek; and knowing, too. from past 
 experience, the design of the attack, he indulged in a 
 little play upon these last three languages, though not 
 master of them. The Doctor finding hinisrlf outtlone, 
 suddenly lelt, and was followed by his fl<K'k. all ba<lly 
 chagrined at the defeat. 
 
 But the people who followed the Doctor, soon began 
 to inquire what he thought of the Methodist preaeher? 
 "Think!" said he, "I don't know what to think. 1 
 always supposed that these Methodist preachers were 
 ignorant men; not even understantling the Flnglish 
 language. But this man knows it all, and is even 
 ahead of me, for he has the IK'brow, German, and 
 Fn*nch at his tongue's end, as well as the Greek and 
 Latin. lie is certainly a good sj)eaker, and an able 
 diviiu', and he preached, too, without notes, and with 
 as much j)recision as if it had all been written out 
 belbre him. I never saw such a man; and what sur- 
 prises mo still more is, this is what thi-y tall one of
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 241 
 
 their hoys, in the first year of his ministry. If this 
 is one of their hoys, I don't l^now wliat their men 
 must be." 
 
 Of course, after that, the people in th:it neighbor- 
 hood thought it Avould be safe for them to hear the 
 Methodist preachers, and the result was, man}^ of them 
 were converted to God, and saved, who might, other- 
 wise, have been lost. 
 
 I was once conversing with brother Bostwick 
 about being sometimes embarrassed in preaching, or in 
 preachers' parlance, "getting into the brush." And to 
 encourage me, he said, "I once went to an apjDoint- 
 ment in I^ew Jersey; it was on my first visit to the 
 place, and I was so embarrassed that I really thought 
 the people would never come out to hear me again. If 
 it had been possible, without neglect of duty, I should 
 not have gone there again. But it was on the plan of 
 the circuit, and there was a class at the place to which 
 I must attend; so I went the second time with fear 
 and trembling. Just before meeting time a stranger 
 came in and said, 'How do you do, brother Bostwick? 
 I suppose you don't know me; I was not a brother 
 when you were here before; but under your preaching 
 I was awakened, and have since found peace with God, 
 and am now one of you.' 
 
 "Ithouglit," said Bostwick, "if God would bless such 
 preaching, I would never complain again of being em- 
 barrassed, but do the best I could, and leave conse- 
 quences with God. This little incident," he continued, 
 "has been of great benefit to me through life." And 
 so it has to me, in like circumstances. 
 
 I have said that Doctor Bostwick was in the habit 
 of meeting the preachers at their week-day appoint- 
 ments, when possible for him to do so. On one occa- 
 sion he met John Solomon, who of all men that I ever 
 heard attempt to preach, had the least ability to do so. 
 
 21
 
 242 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 How he ever ^ot atlrnittcd on trial, even. wa.s a mys- 
 Utj, but he was soon permitted to return home. 
 
 On tills oceasion, a Pivshyteiian minister attended, 
 also. On leaving the place they rode together, and the 
 Presbyterian began to question the propriety of allow- 
 ing such men to occupy the sacre<l desk. The Dortor 
 thought as he did, but feeling a little denominational 
 pride, and knowing the harjiing then common upon the 
 pretended ignoi-ance of Methctliist j)reacher.s, did not 
 like to yield to his Presbyterian brother all he asked; 
 so after admitting that Solomon liad but smidl preach- 
 ing abilities, he urged in extenuation of his being sent 
 out as a preachei", that "we don't always know the 
 designs of God in these things. Paul says that God 
 has chosen the weak things of this world to confound 
 the wise. And God once used the dumb ass to reprove 
 an erring Proj^liet, and a cock to repi'ove an erring 
 Apostle. And I do not know but he may sec fit to use 
 such men to save souls." 
 
 "Ah," said the other, "those were miracles which 
 we are not to look for in this age of the world." 
 
 "True; imt I liavi' known some cases almost as 
 singular in our day. When I traveled in New Jer- 
 sey," sai<l the Doctor, "I knew a man who was awak- 
 ened by the crowing of a black hen, very nuich like 
 the case of Peter." 
 
 "Ah! II<»w was that?" 
 
 • Wiiy, the man was a Dutchman ; his wife and 
 daughters were pious and belonged to the Church, but 
 he was hostile to their religion, and soJight every op- 
 j)(>rtiinity to ])ersecute and atHict them. Wlien.on Sun- 
 day, they got ready to go to meeting, he would chop 
 wood at the door, or hoe in the garden, and continue 
 at it as long as people were going by to meeting. One 
 Sunday, when he was thus hoeing in his garden, a 
 black lien mounted the fence, flopped her wings, and
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON, 243 
 
 crowed. The Dutch believe, in such a case, that they 
 must kill the hen, or some one will die in the family. He 
 tried to kill her, but she evaded him; yet he kept on 
 his hoeing, and soon she came and crowed again, and 
 still evaded his chase ; and so the third time, but still 
 she escaped from him. He then concluded that he 
 must die, and as he was so wicked must go to hell. 
 
 "He threw down his hoe, changed his clothes, and 
 went to meeting. His wife and daughters seeing him 
 come there, thought lie intended to extend his perse- 
 cution even to the house of God, and feared that he 
 would disturb the meeting. But he sat still and list- 
 ened attentively, and remained after preaching in the 
 class-meeting, and when spoken to as to the state of 
 his mind as to religion, he rose and said: 'I is one 
 great sinner. I have persecuted mine wife and daugh- 
 ters because they wanted to be good. I have chopped 
 wood and hoed in the garden on Sunday, just to spite 
 them and other good folks when going by to meeting; 
 and to-day when I was hoeing, a great black hen did 
 get on the fence, and flop her wings and crow three 
 times, and I could not catch her to kill her. And now, 
 by sure, I shall die, and the devil will have me, be- 
 cause I is so wicked, and I does want you to pray for 
 me.' They did so, and soqu after he obtained forgive- 
 ness from God. When in after years he related his 
 Christian experience, he would always say that he 
 thanked God he ever heard a hen crow." 
 
 The Doctor continued : "I knew a case in Xew En- 
 gland, in which a young man was awakened by the 
 bellowing of a bull, much like the case of Balaam." 
 
 "Ah! and how was that?' 
 
 " Why, a young man was hired to a Quaker to work. 
 He had been out one night to a late hour, to some sin- 
 ful amusement, and on his way home heard a bull 
 bellowing along the street after him. He thought it
 
 24 4 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 was the tlcvil ^oint^ about like a roaring lion, seeking 
 whom he might devour, and his guilty conBcience led 
 him to think that he was the object of the divil's pur- 
 suit, and took to his heels for home as fast as j)ossible. 
 "He reached his chamber and got into bed. but the 
 l)ull came nearer and nearer, till in front of the house, 
 and between the house and the barn-yard, where the 
 cows were herded for the niglit. he made a halt and 
 began to paw up the ground, and bellow louder than 
 before, and such was the etlect upon the air that the 
 windows of the house jarred and rattled from its vi- 
 brations. Upon this, the young man thought he was 
 coming into the window to take him off. whereupon 
 he cried to (Jod at the top of his voice, to have mercy 
 on him. This roused up the (Quaker, who ran to the foot 
 of the stairs and called out, 'Elijah, what ails thee?' 
 Klijah. afraid to tell the truth in the case, said he had 
 'the belly-ache.' 
 
 "Upon this the (Quaker hustled round, kindled a 
 fire, and made a quart of sage-tea and gave him. While 
 the C^uaker was near J'Mijah made less ado. and when 
 till' luill retired he settled down into quietness, iiut he 
 was wiser than some are. afU'r such a fright, for he 
 sought and obtained the pardon of his sins. 
 
 "In this case," said the Doctor, "God spake through 
 the bellowing of a bull, as he did to l^alaam through 
 the ass; and I dare not limit the .\lmighty. for he may 
 speak through a man of small talents. ' This was 
 rather reluctantly admitted, and the point yielded. 
 
 The Doctor told me that some years after he came 
 to Ohio a Congregationalist from Mas.saehusetts came 
 athwart him, who ma<le so many eontemptnous allu- 
 sions to the Methodists, claiming the superiority of the 
 "Standi tig Order" over other ChristiaDB, that he ft he 
 hoctor) lelt moved to re])ly, or an^wer "a fool accord- 
 ing to his folly."
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 245 
 
 This man, among other things, inquired of the Doc- 
 tor, "Did you not once travel in Massachusetts?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Well, were you acquainted with David B. in A?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I knew him very well." 
 
 "Well, sir, he has left your Church and joined ours, 
 and we have licensed him to preach." 
 
 "Ah," said the Doctor, "I am very glad of that. 
 He used to trouble us a great deal about preaching, but 
 we thought that he had neither gifts nor other qualifica- 
 tions for it. If he answers your purpose, I am very 
 glad, and hope he is suited, and will trouble us no 
 more." Upon this the man found it convenient to take 
 a sudden leave. 
 
 I was once in conversation with him upon the im- 
 propriety of placing metaphors, parables, etc., " upon 
 all fours;" that is, making every thing in them have 
 a bearing, and a specific meaning, when he related the 
 following incident: 
 
 A preacher on the circuit, calling on him for a 
 night and wishing to avail himself of the o]3portunity 
 to gain some information from the Doctor, stated that 
 he was preparing a sermon on the text, "and they 
 gathered up twelve baskets full," etc. ; that he had 
 found ten doctrines, answering to ten of the baskets, 
 and wished the Doctor to furnish him with two more 
 baskets to complete the number. 
 
 The Doctor desired to know the contents of the ten 
 baskets already filled, which were stated. Not meeting 
 his views of interpreting Scrif>ture, he turned to his 
 daughter and inquired, "Havn't we got some old bas- 
 kets up in the garret? Brother Y. wants a couple to 
 help him make out his sermon." The daughter know- 
 ing the Avit of her father in sucli cases, and, withal, 
 being ready to humor the joke, replied in the affirm- 
 ative, and expressed her readiness to produce them at
 
 246 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 once, it' (Je.sii-ccl. Tliis fiiii^luMi tlir l>M'^kot sermon — it 
 was never preached 
 
 In June, 1S21, Ijiotlur Sway/A', the j)resi(lin^ ehler, 
 (h'sired me to attend a eamp-meotin^ in Geneva, Ash- 
 tahula county, Ohio; stating that "something must be 
 done for that ciix'uit. or our shij) there would be 
 stranded." 
 
 I had an idea that the country* was quite new; that 
 our accommodations wouUl be poor ; and, probably, we 
 should have to sleep on the ground, and among the 
 leaves, and I dressed myself in an old suit, suitable, as 
 I thought, to the occasion. How I got this idea I do 
 not know, but I found it a gi-eat mistake. It was too 
 late to change my garb. I had also had the quinsj' in 
 the Spring, and under the direction of Mr. Wesley's 
 family adviser and primitive physic. 1 had not worn a 
 cravat for six weeks, and being much exposed to the 
 sun and storms. I was considiTably '"browned" in the 
 face and neck. All this, with a long beard, gave me 
 rather a rough, fainu i-like a])pearance, no ways pre- 
 posessing. 
 
 On Friday morning an old })a(kslidden Methodist, 
 whom Swayze had known in .Massachusetts, and invited 
 to attend this meeting, seeing me on the stand, thought, 
 as he told me afterward, that I could n't be a preacher; 
 and when I sung a favorite song of Zion, he concluded 
 that Swayze had got me on to the stand to Iratl ir 
 singing. When he saw mo up to preach at 11 o'clock, 
 he thought if I was a preacher, I must be a local one, 
 some farmer, and that he would go then and take care 
 of" his horses. 
 
 Jiut it occurreil to liini that. pr<ibably, it would be 
 the only time I should be put up, and as he wished to 
 hear all the jjreachers on the ground, hv would stay and 
 hear me. I knew nothing of the man, then, but before 
 1 was half done he concluded that Swayze had told me
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 247 
 
 all about him, and had got me there on purpose to 
 preach to him. 
 
 In winding up this discourse I invited mourners into 
 the altar, and (sprang over the book-board on to the 
 ground. As I lit upon the ground a young man fell 
 into the lap of a Presbj'terian deacon, who turned pale, 
 and moving to one side, let the joung man roll off on to 
 the ground. Several others fell, who were brought in 
 by their friends, .and others came of their own accord, 
 and among them my friend of the horses. He con- 
 fessed his sins and backslidings, and was restored to 
 the peace and favor of God. He went at once to 
 Swaj^ze, and said, '-If you will send that man to the 
 circuit I will attend meeting, and pay my quarterage." 
 I was sent there the ensuing year, and he, brother 
 Winchell, furnished me with a house, all my fire-wood, 
 pasture for my horse and cow, in Summer, and barn, 
 liay and grain for tiiem, in Winter ; with meat, flour, 
 and vegetables for mj- family, and paid some twenty 
 dollars in money; but, as his wife and two daughters 
 were converted, he felt amplj^ paid for all he had done 
 for me. 
 
 At this camp-meeting there was a very large gath- 
 ering of people of all descriptions, from the surrounding 
 country, and a very general awakening, with many 
 powerful conversions, amounting, in all, to pi'obabiy 
 two hundred; and among them a noted infidel, by the 
 name of Parker. He came, as such men usuallj^ do, out 
 of curiosity, and for the purposes of criticism ; but an 
 arrow from the Almighty's quiver reached his heart, 
 and he fled, like the stricken deer, to his home, in Ash- 
 tabula Yillage ; but, after a sleepless night, on Monday 
 morning, and with little or no breakfast, he repaired te 
 the ground, as if attracted by some invisible power, 
 which his w^ounded spirit did not feel disposed to resist. 
 He was soon upon his knees, in a prayer-circle, in deep
 
 248 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 penitence, where he continued, excei>t when lintenin^ 
 to preaching, all that clay and the ensuing night, groan- 
 ing, praying, and wre.'^tling, like Jacob. Those of his 
 acquaintaiK-e who were religions, knowing his rornier 
 wickedness, and ino( krr}- of religion, felt a strong solic- 
 itude for his conversion, not only for his own sake, but 
 lor the canso of Christianity in general, and literally 
 ''stuck ti) liiiii closer tliaii a brotluM-." instructing liirn, 
 and )) raying for him. 
 
 Whether he took any refreshment, or not, I an» un- 
 able to say; but if he did, it must have been at long 
 intervals, and but little at a time. In the coui-se of the 
 night a shower had wet the ground, which had been 
 tramped into mud, in places, and especially in the 
 prayer-circles, some two or three inches deep; but such 
 was the earnestness of both penitents and those who 
 were wivstling with them, that this mud was not heeded. 
 
 On Tuesday morning, while the meeting was break- 
 ing up. and the tents being struck, he was yet on his 
 knees, in the mud, resolved not to leave the spot until 
 he found peace with God. A few faithful ones were 
 .still with him. At this moment a doctor of medicine, a 
 member of the Presbyterian Church, whose preju«lices 
 had prevented him from attending before, lest he should 
 sin against God, now came upon the ground, not to wor- 
 ship God, but to see and hear enough, as he thought, to 
 find arguments against such meetings, anticipating a 
 rich harvest of arguments. But, on seeing Parker on 
 his knees, ho was not only surprised, but, knowing his 
 former character, and presunnng that ho was now mock- 
 ing, instead of praying, he felt his indignation rise, for, 
 much as lu- was prejudice<l again.st tlir .Mithotlists and 
 the camp iMi't'ting, he could not endure snch moekeiy, 
 as he supposed it to be. Undi-r the iinjuilse (»f such 
 feelings, he stepped u]> to Parker, and with some stern- 
 ness said, '• I'arker. what are you doing hero?" Parker^
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 249 
 
 knowing the voice, and that he was a professor of re- 
 ligion, and forgetting all distinctions, in his deep dis- 
 tress, raised his head, and said, " O, doctor, for God's 
 sake, pray for me, for if I don't obtain mercy, I shall 
 be in hell before night!" 
 
 This took the doctor all aback. It was what he had 
 not expected. Parker's sunken eyes, and ghastly look, 
 showed that he was in earnest; he was the life-picture 
 of despair and deep anguish of soul. Instantly the 
 doctor's better feelings took the ascendency, and he fell 
 upon his knees in the mud, by the side of Parker, and, 
 amid his tears, poured out his soul to God in fervent 
 prayer in behalf of the penitent infidel, in true Meth- 
 odistic strains; and declared, afterward, that if camp- 
 meetings were the means of converting such men as 
 Parker, he would never oppose them again. 
 
 But poor Parker was yet in distress; some barrier, 
 some secret bosom sin, was in the way. The tents were 
 all down, the wagons loaded, and ready to start, some 
 having gone, and one after another reluctantly left him, 
 to go home, till but two or three were left with the poor 
 penitent. At length these were called to go with their 
 company, who were waiting, and the poor man was 
 about to be left alone, and to stay alone, for he was re- 
 solved not to leave the spot unpardoned, when one 
 thought of tiie possible difficulty, and inquired : 
 
 "Parker, do you forgive all your enemies, as you 
 hope to be forgiveti ?'" 
 
 "Yes, I think I do." 
 
 "But you must, from the heart, forgive all those who 
 have trespassed against you, or who you think have done 
 so, or God will not forgive you." 
 
 '•Well, I think I do; I am willing to forgive every 
 body, for I know that I am the greatest sinner in the 
 world, and need forgiveness more than all the rest." 
 
 It occurred to the speaker, just then, that an old. and
 
 260 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 long-continued quarrel liad existed between Parker and 
 Judge Q., n<<^ain»t whom Parker had evinced a more 
 deadly liatred than against any other man; and the 
 iiKjuiry was made, 'Can you, and do you. forgive 
 Judge Q.?' 
 
 He tljought a nioment, and said, " Ye.->. 1 ciui , 1 do 
 forgive Judge Q. Glory to Go<l !" and springing to 
 liis feet, sliouted, "Yes, I do forgive Judge ^.; and, 
 glory to God, He has forgiven mc !" 
 
 Parker lived many yeai*s, a good and faithful witness 
 for Christ; and, as I was informe(l, died as he liad lived, 
 since his conversion, at peace with God and man. 
 
 The results of this meeting, as I have said, were, 
 probably, two hundred conversions on the ground; but 
 this was not all ; revivals followed in the country, and 
 into other ('hiirehes. The Presbyterian Church nearest 
 the gioun<l was said to have received of these converts 
 about one hundred. Whatever they think, or formerly 
 thought of eainp-niecling, and Methodistic conversions, 
 I never knew them to refuse one who offered to join 
 them. This, no doubt, is one great, if not the greatest, 
 reason for their increase of spirituality, and more liberal 
 feelings toward the Methodists than existed half a cen- 
 tui'v ago. 
 
 Soon afler the above camp-meeting, we had one on 
 our own circuit. Though it did not result so gloriously 
 as the other, yet it was the means of much good. There 
 were some inci<lents connected with it illustrative of the 
 times, and of human nature, worthy ofree<»rd. 
 
 Tlie meeting was held in Vernon, Truinhull cMuinty, 
 Ohio. A few nights before it was to commence, a 
 neighbor of mine, who was half drunk at the time, but 
 'who, drunk or sober, had some regard for our eivil and 
 religious rights, called at my house, and said that he 
 had just come from "the burg," a place near the camp- 
 ground, and had learned that some two hun(lre<l young
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 251 
 
 men had plotted a rowdy scrape at the camp-meet- 
 ing, and had chosen two brothers, with whom I was ac- 
 quainted, to be their captains; that they had resolved 
 to break up the meeting, and, in case of arrest, to stick 
 by each other, and fight it out. 1 thanked him for the 
 information, and took measures to prevent the intended 
 interruption. 
 
 I was early upon the ground, though brother Booth 
 had charge of the circuit, on whom it properly devolved 
 to keep order, yet, he was of such a temperament that 
 he would allow rowdies to run over him and his charge. 
 Of course, if tliere was any fighting to be done, that fell 
 upon me; and, knowing my temperament, he, and the 
 people, expected me to do it, and then take the conse- 
 quences afterward, in their /ears that I would "ride over 
 them, as I did the rowdies." 
 
 Soon after reaching the ground, 1 met with J. E. 
 Giddings, Esq., who was afterward so distinguished in 
 Congress, and also Esquire Cone, a neighboring Justice 
 of the Peace, who both told me that they had heard of 
 tlie conspiracy, and had come purposely thus early to 
 assist us in keeping order, and, if need be, apply the 
 law in its severest form. 
 
 On Saturday I saw the rowdies gathering, and spoke 
 to one of the captain brothers on this wise: "I am 
 told that a set of lewd fellows of the baser sort, who 
 have neither character nor breeding, are coming here 
 to disturb us. We have Giddings and Cone to assist 
 us in enforcing the law. Such disturbance is not only 
 contrary to law, but is very wrong and ungentlemanly 
 in itself. I want to get a few men who have a respect 
 for religion and civil rights to render us some assist- 
 ance; and I have thought, from my acquaintance with 
 you, that you would do so." 
 
 "Yes," he said, he would do any thing he could 
 to assist us, and asked if we wanted him for a guard.
 
 252 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 "No," siiifi I, "1 will not trouble you for that, but 
 wish you sinij)ly to keep an cyo out, and if you 8ce or 
 l»ear tlu-m cniilriviiii^ niiHcliief, hIiow your diHUpproba- 
 tion by reproving them; and if tlie}' do not denint, 
 give ine their names, and 1 will have them fined, and 
 then I will publish their names in the newspaper." 
 
 To this he agreed. I then intjuii-ed for his brother, 
 whom he sent to me, and who also agreed to assist us 
 in the same way. I found several others who enlisted 
 in the same good cause. I ha<l already got several 
 names of persons who, on coming on to the ground, 
 had siiown signs of rowdyism, of which 1 informed my 
 men. Probabl}' in less than two liours every rowdy 
 on the ground knew of m}' purpo.se, and was warned 
 to behave, or to take the consequences. 
 
 AnioMLC liic names given me tliere was a mistake in 
 one name. The lellow was one of the gang, but was 
 not yet on the ground; but, as soon as he did aj>pear, 
 he was infonned of my purpose, and that his name was 
 already taken. This gave him such umbrage that ho 
 left at once, and was not seen there again. 
 
 There were upon the ground four young gentlemen, 
 sons of New England land speculators, who had given 
 them a little recreation in the vacation of College, in 
 a trip to their New Connecticut lands. They did not 
 belong to the gang of which I have spoken, though 
 they were not long in forming some of their ac- 
 (juaintances, and soon heard of my threats if any one 
 disturbed us. 
 
 I saw these young men, was pleased with their gen- 
 teel deportment, and asked Mr. (biddings who they 
 Were, etc., but not because 1 suspcctrd them as bel<»ng- 
 ing to the gang. In the night 1 saw them with uthcrs 
 go repeatedly out of one ct>rner of the encam|)ment 
 into the woods, and soon return in rather men*y mood. 
 1 mistrusted that there was whiskv somewhere not far
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 253 
 
 off, and I placed a man \u that corner, with instruc- 
 tions that wlien lie saw a com2:)an3' go out, to follow 
 them at a short distance, and when they stopped, to 
 get beliind a tree, mark tlie stopping-place, and when 
 they returned to go to the sj^ot, and most likely be 
 would tind whisky, and if he did to bring it to me, 
 with whatever he found it in. 
 
 In about half an hour he brought me a tin pail, 
 half full of "the critter," and very shortly after this 
 a manifest uneasiness was seen among that crowd, for 
 they were well aware that 1 had got it, and they were 
 detected, and feared the fine and publication. 
 
 In the morning, when the congregation was called 
 together, I advertised the pail, stating the contents; 
 tliat it was found in the woods; and that the owner 
 might have it by giving his name. If no owner came 
 for it the contents would be poured out on the ground, 
 and the pail left with some one, where the owner might 
 find it in accordance with one of our regulations as to 
 found property. As no one came to claim it, I emptied 
 the liquor on the ground before the congregation. In 
 a short time after, a neighbor came and said that these 
 3-oung men borrowed the pail, as they said, to carry 
 milk to the camp-ground, and jDromised to return it 
 the next morning; he supposed that the}' belonged to 
 some of the tents. 
 
 By this time the young men took sudden leave, and 
 ] learned afterward that they were very uneasy lest 
 their names should get into the newspapers, as having 
 behaved very bad at a camp-meeting, and thus reach 
 the eyes or ears of their parents at home. They suf- 
 fered more from this fear than they would from a fine, 
 and even im^Drisonment, if they could have kept it 
 from their parents. But we succeeded in preserving 
 good order, defeating the rowdies, and having some 
 fiftv conversions.
 
 254 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 rpiIIS year (1821) was the second year of brother 
 L Swayzc's ])residin«; on the district, which embraced 
 the Western Reserve, east of the Cuyalioga. The dif- 
 ference in the success and spread of Melliodism — and, 
 as other denominations j^rotited i^reatly from our suc- 
 cess, 1 may say of Cliristianit}- gencrail}' — was so great 
 from those of former times, that I can but notice it. 
 
 Previous to his coming among us, our presiding 
 elders, and most of our preachers, were from the South 
 and West, whose minds were very much prejudiced 
 against the Yankees, and frequently their treatment 
 of our peo))le savored so mucli of their superiority of 
 feeling as to prevent their doing much good. Some of 
 them seemed to view the Yankees as semi barlcirians — 
 a kind of half heathen. They would reach the circuit 
 just a lillle before their first quarterly -meeting, and 
 leave it soon after their fourth one, so that we were 
 frequently from two to three months without preaching 
 in the year. 
 
 In 1819, when Bishop George spent most of the 
 Sumuier in Ohio, he became acquainted with this state 
 of things, and, to remedy the evil, ai)pointed William 
 Swayze to the district, who moved his family to Deer- 
 field, a Central point in it. This kept him within the 
 district, and his leisure time was spent anmng tlic Yan- 
 kees, he being a kind of naturalized one, because he 
 had traveled in New England ami had a Yankee wife. 
 
 In the mean time, James M'Mahon, thouirli a Ki n- 
 tuckian, had married, and had his family on the J^e- 
 serve. Ira Kddy and Kzra Hooth, who were Yankees, 
 had nuirried. and located their families in the same
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 255 
 
 region ; and wlien I was admitted among tiiem I made 
 the fourth married man on the Eeserve. We. of course, 
 stayed on our charges as long as possible, so as by hard 
 traveling to reach Conference in time; and we returned 
 home from Conference as fast as our horses could coi ■ 
 vey us, often at the rate of from forty to fifty miles a 
 day. The consequence was, that only from three to 
 four weeks were lost in Conference time, instead of so 
 many months. We also had a deeper interest in the 
 welfare of the peoj)le among whom we lived, than we 
 could have had in mere strangers ; as a natural conse- 
 quence, we had greater and more extensive revivals; 
 and the people seemed to have more confidence in us, 
 as we were of themselves, and the work of God pros- 
 pered more extensively. 
 
 The Ohio Conference, to which we belonged, met 
 this year (1821) in Lebanon, from which I was appoint- 
 ed to Grand River circuit, with Henry Knapp, a very 
 promising young man for my junior colleague. I 
 moved my family to Concord, into a house of my old 
 friend of the Geneva camp-meeting, of whom I have 
 already spoken. 
 
 The circuit lay in Ashtabula, Geauga, and Trumbull 
 counties, and had forty-four appointments to be filled 
 in four weeks, being about two hundred miles round 
 it. We fixed the plan so as to meet at my house once 
 in two weeks. It was but a log-cabin, but was such as 
 most of tlie people in the country lived in, and of course 
 we were satisfied. We had three quarterlj'-meetings 
 and one camp meeting, at all of which the j)residing 
 elder was present; and besides these, we held four two- 
 days' meetings, and one watch-night. One object we 
 had in holding so many extra meetings was to jDromote 
 the interests of religion in the people, and to accustom 
 them to alter work — to talk to and pray with and for 
 penitents. We were so owned and blessed of God,
 
 2i>(j A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 tliat uur iiiercaso, at the end of tlie vtar, amounted to 
 about three hundred souls. 
 
 In the Sprini^ of 1822 1 had an attack of bilious 
 fever, in which I thoui»:ht and expected I should die. 
 My first thout^ht was, '* .Shall I have the benefit, in dyin^, 
 of that relii^^ion I have been preachini^ to others?" I 
 felt that I should. It seeineti as if there was but a thin 
 veil between me and heaven, into which I expected to 
 enter within three hours. The next thought and care 
 was for my family, what would become of them? But 
 this text struck mc with great force, "Leave thy 
 widows and fatherless children with me," and my mind 
 was instantly* free from all care and anxiet}' on that 
 score. I never was happier, and presume that when 
 death does come I shall not realize it any more than 1 
 did on that occasion. But the fever turned, and I got 
 well, ami am still in a world of toil and care. 
 
 In Ashtaljula we ])reached in a ball-room from the 
 want of a better place. The owner was under convic- 
 tion of sin. and as the idea of Calvin's horrible decrees 
 was yet lingering in some minds, and especially in his, 
 ho fell into despair, thinking that he was a reprobate 
 from all eternity; but we succeeded in preaching him 
 out of this, and then he concluded that he had sinned 
 away his day of grace, and consequently there was no 
 mercy for him. Under these reflections he fell into the 
 most gloomy state of mind, and his friends began to 
 fear that he would commit suicide, and kei)t a constant 
 watch over him. His argument in justification of such 
 un act was that the sooner ho was dead and in iiell, the 
 less sin he would have to be punished lor. 
 
 After ))reaching one night I sat up with him, 
 together with his wife and wife's sister, till two o'clock, 
 arguing an<l explaining the j)romises of God to return- 
 ing penitents; but all seemed to be of no avail. At 
 length I asked hinj : 'Do you believe that any good
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 257 
 
 desire, or a desire to be saved, can possibly come from the 
 devil?" 
 
 He thought a moment and said, "No." 
 
 "Well, do you believe tliat our fallen nature could 
 suggest or give such a desire?" 
 
 He thought again and said, "No." 
 
 " Well, now, there is but one other source from 
 which such desire can possibly come — that is, from God ; 
 for there are but these three sources for any thoughts or 
 desires of the kind." 
 
 "Yes," said he, " that looks reasonable." 
 
 "Well, have j'ou not such desires? Do you not 
 desire to be saved from sin, to be pardoned, and be at 
 peace with God?" 
 
 " Yes, I certainly have." 
 
 "Well, 3'ou admit that you could not obtain or 
 receive such desires from the devil, nor from your 
 fallen nature, and that, therefore, they must come from 
 God? The fact that you have such desires is an infal- 
 lible evidence that God has not forsaken 3'ou. There 
 can not possibly be ixny mistake in this. You have the 
 desire, and God alone could give it to you, and therefore 
 he has not forsaken you. He would not mock you b}^ 
 giving such a desire if he was not willing to pardon and 
 save you." 
 
 " Why, yes, it seems so." 
 
 "Well, now, you may believe that for the sake of 
 Christ he will do so, and do it now. There is no merit 
 in your sorrow or repentance for sin; 3'ou can not pur- 
 chase a pardon by it. It is only by faith in the merits 
 of Christ that 3'ou can obtain forgiveness. He has said 
 that the 'broken in heart, and the contrite in spirit he 
 will in no wise turn away ;' and he says, further, 
 'Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
 and T will give you rest.' His word is sufficient, he 
 can not lie; and what he has promised he will do when 
 
 22
 
 258 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 we comj)ly witli the condition upon wliieh he promises 
 to do it — that in, come to him with a broken heart and a 
 contrite spirit. Tliis he can :in<l will do in a moment, 
 if you will but believe and rely upon him." 
 
 At this he sat a moment in deep reflection, myself 
 his wife, and sister-in law watchini^ the effect u))On him. 
 His countenance changed back and forth, indicating a 
 gleam of liope, and then returning despair, but hope 
 seemed to predominate. At length he arose and went 
 into the wood-shed. I never shall forget the anxious 
 looks of his wife and sister-in-law as their eyes followed 
 him out of the i-oom, and then the gloom that settled 
 down upon them, indicating their fears that he had 
 gone out to commit suicide. I confess I had some fears 
 myself that this was his object; but reflecting upon his 
 answers, hope revived, and a glimmer of faith crossed 
 my mind, and 1 spoke some words of cheer to the 
 ladies, which seemed to relieve them. 
 
 He was out, perha)»s, five minutes, though it seemed 
 much longer, when became in smiling. '' There," said 
 I, "you have been praying, and God has blessed you. 
 I see it in your countenance, and feel it in my soul." 
 
 "Yes," said he, "I do feel better. The great burden 
 of guilt has been removed ; but I am not as happy as 
 I have seen some in such cases." 
 
 '' Well, you must believe and confess what he has 
 done for you ; and if you do so the evidence will come." 
 
 "Well, I will ir}'; I feel better alread}'." And he 
 continued to improve till he was as happy as any of us. 
 
 There was a singular case in this class, which shows 
 the good effects of religion on domestic relations. A 
 man and his wife quai'roled. aj)d he left her and one or 
 two children, and went to Indiana, where he stayed seven 
 years, giving lur no intelligence of his whereabouts. 
 But the Good Sjiirit reached his heart in a revival of 
 religion, and he sought and Ibund peace with God.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 259 
 
 While under conviction his greatest sin appeared to be 
 that of leaving his family as he did, and he promised 
 God, if he would forgive him, that he would return to 
 them ; and he did so. His return under such circum- 
 stances, and for such a reason, had the effect to awaken 
 her to a sense of her lost condition, and she also re- 
 pented and found peace; and when I saw them the}' 
 were living happily together. 
 
 Our camp-meeting this year came off in May, 1822, 
 on brother WinclielTs farm, in Concord. This good 
 brother, of whom I have spoken, furnished the ground 
 and most of the j)asture for the cattle and horses, by 
 turning into his meadow. He also kept the preachers' 
 horses on hay and grain, had a large tent on the 
 ground, and fed and lodged a large number of visitants. 
 The meeting was a good one, and near one hundred 
 souls were converted, besides reclaiming and quickening 
 the Church generally. 
 
 Tlie old cry was raised that ^'Father Winchell 
 would be eaten out of iiouse and home." One man, a 
 fiddler by trade, and a whisky drinker by practice, see- 
 ing our horses in the stable, said to him: "Father 
 Winchell, I should think yoMY hay and grain w^ould get 
 scarce, you have so many horses to keep," 
 
 "No," said the good brother, "hay and grain will 
 never give out as long as I feed the preachers' horses. 
 Do you see there? I have enough to bring me through 
 till after harvest, and then the Lord Avill give me 
 enough more for another year. If you would feed the 
 preachers' horses you would n't have to come to me every 
 Spring to get hay to save 3-our cow from starving." 
 
 "But there's your meadow, all eat down by the 
 cattle and horses that come to camj^-mceting, so that 
 you can 't have half a crop of hay this season." 
 
 "Never fear. The Lord will make the grass grow; 
 and I shall have enough and to spare. Wh}^, I went
 
 2G0 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 llirou^li tlio iiioadow to-claj', and tlie ^rass don't look 
 a bit blunter than it did wlieii they were tirht turned in. 
 The Lord makeH the «^ra8.s grow aa faht an it is eaten off." 
 
 When he and his boys were gathering in the hay on 
 this meadow I went into it to see them. Father Win- 
 chcll said to me, "See here, brother Brunson. see what 
 the Lord has done lor us for having camp -meeting 
 here. We never had such crops before. Last year we 
 got all, both hay and grain, into our two barns; but 
 this year, from the same ground, we have both barns 
 full, and that half dozen stacks, and here is this to stack 
 also. 1 told 'em there was no fear, that if we had 
 camp-meeting here we should have crop enough, if wo 
 ili'l pasture the meadow, and you see it is so. " 
 
 One of his sons, who st<K)d leaning upon his rake- 
 stale listening to the conversation, as if wearied with 
 toil — as he really was — said, smilingly, " If this is the 
 result of the camp-meeting, I don't want another here 
 this year, for I am almost dead from gathering what 
 we 710U' have." 
 
 Our Conference met this year (1822) in Marietta. 
 .My two 3'ears of probation had expired, and I went 
 lhr<nigh the ordeal of an examination before the com- 
 mittee, of wliich Dr. M. Uuter was chairman. Then the 
 rule rc<iuircd but one; examination, and tliat at tlie end of 
 the two years' |)robation. lie j>ut me through "the flint 
 mill." as it was called, as I tliought pretty thoroughly, 
 ami, as J was informed, made a favorable report. The 
 fear and dread of "the mill " embarras.sed me consider- 
 ably, so that I could not think or sj)eak as readily ai* at 
 other times; but 1 was admitted into full connection, 
 and being a deacon, was elected and ordained an elder 
 by Bishop George. 
 
 At every stage of my gradation, from joining the 
 Church, being lieensed to exhoit, to j)reach, being or- 
 dained deacon, bein*' received on trial, ailmittod to full
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 261 
 
 connection, and now ordained an elder, I felt the respon- 
 sibilities of my relation to the Church to increase 
 accordingly, and consequently the duty to demean my- 
 self in accordance therewith, as I should account to 
 God at the day of judgment. 
 
 My appointment this year was Detroit, in Michigan 
 Territory, with Samuel Baker for junior colleague. In 
 going home, I, with some others, traveled up the Ohio 
 River from Marietta to Wellsville. The river was ex- 
 tremely low, so much so that we forded it in one place. 
 And we saw men engaged on some of the bars with 
 large plows, and long heavy teams of horses, plowing 
 up the gravel, to loosen it, so that the current might 
 move it off into deeper water, and thus deepen the 
 channel, for the passage of boats. 
 
 This was also the year of the migration of the gray 
 and black squirrels. From whence they came, or where 
 going, no one could tell, but their number was legion. 
 On the Ohio side of the river the farmers were obliged 
 to cut up and shock their corn, and then guard it with 
 guns and clubs, to save it from general destruction. 
 
 These little emigrants, traveling from north to 
 south, or north-west to south-east, were somewhat 
 troubled in crossing the river. This was one reason 
 why they accumulated to such an army on the north 
 bank of it, and made them so destructive to the corn 
 there. Their knowledge of the river was not sufficient 
 to enable them to select the narrowest places at which 
 to cross, nor were their limbs sufficiently long to enable 
 them to ford the stream on the bars; but wherever 
 they reached it, there they swam it. 
 
 Their mode was to climb a tree, the limbs of which 
 hung over the water, and going out on to the most ex- 
 tended limbs, would jump off into the water and swim 
 for the opposite or south shore. We at one time 
 counted fifty-two of them in sight at once.
 
 262 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 On the south shore of the river we saw men and 
 boys, with horses and wagons, who stood at the water s 
 edge; and as the little swimmers came near the shore, 
 much exhausted, tliey would touch them with a stick 
 or pole, to which they would cling with a death grip, 
 when they were submerged till drowned. If no one 
 stood ready to take them in this way as they reached 
 the shore, they would crawl out on to a stone or log, as 
 if nearly dead, and remain there till they were dry, and 
 rested, before moving further. Many of them were 
 killed by sticks and clubs after landing, being too 
 weak to get out of the way. It was said that hun- 
 dreds of loads, both of horses and of wagons, were thus 
 taken and carried back into the country. 
 
 On reaching home, I made arrangements for mov- 
 ing to Detroit. A land voyjige was out of the question. 
 There was no steam-boat then on Lake Erie, which 1 
 must cross, and go up one hundred and sixty miles. T\\r. 
 oirly chance was to catch some sail craft on its ujnvai <l 
 trip. 1 soon found one of twenty-three tons, going to 
 the Detroit River on a fishing voyage, it being the season 
 for taking the white fish. She belonged to Ashtabula, 
 was schooner rigged, with a fore-topsail. Thirty-two 
 souls were on board, including my family, which now 
 numbered seven. We had no ballast or loading, except 
 a few barrels of salt, some provisions, and a lot of empty 
 l)arrels. I could not ship my liorse, for fear of foul 
 weather at that season, October, and ha<l to sell him. 
 
 On our upward course, off from Cleveland, and near 
 the middle oi' the lake, and nearly out of sight of land, 
 while sailing under a pleasant breeze, we were struck 
 by a s(juall. which endangered all on board. The crew 
 and fishermen passengers were on the quarter-deck, in 
 high glee, drinking whisky, singing songs, and telling 
 yarns, and did not see the cloud coming up from the 
 west, and nearly iKad ahead.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 263 
 
 At this critical moment I happened to go on deck 
 for something, and looking up saw the black cloud over 
 the foretop mast-head, and seeing at once the danger 
 we were in, sung out to the captain, inquiring if it 
 was not time to take in sail. He on looking up said, 
 "Yes, I think it is;" and he and another one ran up 
 the shrouds like squirrels, to furl the foretop-sail. But 
 hearing the roar of the wind coming down to him, he 
 sung out, "Let run every rag of sail." I was near the 
 mainmast and let the mainsail run as it would, and 
 fall in or out of the water, and the other sails were also 
 let run in the same way, and they had hardly got down 
 before the gale struck us. In two minutes more, if the 
 sails had been up, the vessel must have been capsized, 
 and all on board must have perished. 
 
 I had, previous to this, taken the helm and steered 
 the vessel, and given some other evidence of nautical 
 skill, fi-om my boyhood experience. They had all 
 heard me preach before coming on board; but now 
 the question arose among them whether 1 was the 
 better preacher or sailor, for they felt assured that 
 but for me we should, most probably, all have found a 
 watery grave that night. 
 
 The vessel rolled and tossed in the swell at a fear- 
 ful rate, and every green one, including my wife and 
 all the children, except the one at the breast, were sea- 
 sick, and casting up their accounts with Neptune. The 
 mainsail was put into a balance reef, which brought 
 the head of the vessel quartering to the wind, where 
 she rode easier through the night. But tfce wind con- 
 tinuing the next day to blow fresh down the lake, the 
 vessel was run down to Grand Eiver, from whence we 
 started, where we lay three days and nights, wind-bound. 
 
 As soon as the gale abated, and the land breeze 
 sprang up at night, we made sail, hugging the 
 south shore of the lake, so as to keep within range of
 
 264 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 tho land breeze, and at the same time have a Bmooth 
 BCii. The next day wo reached Porthind, now San- 
 duyUy City, on Sandusky Jiay. That ni^'ht, taking th*^ 
 land breeze again. w«' sailtd. aiul the next day reached 
 Detroit. 
 
 I had written to the titeward and leader to procure 
 me a house. ]Jut as our peoj)le never had had a mar- 
 ried preacher there, he dared n<jt do more than to 
 inquire where one could be lia<l. I liad to do the rent- 
 ing, and pay for it myself. 
 
 As soon as I landed, I went to the leader and stew- 
 ard, and found him at dinner, and being invited, ate with 
 him. He then invited me to bring my liimily to iiis 
 house, wliiie we procured a home for ourselves and 
 moved up the goods. This was accomplished about 
 sundown. But though all things were in heaps, and 
 nothing in place, my wife proj)osed to get some supper, 
 saying that neither she nor the children had eaten a 
 bite since breakfast, on the vessel. 
 
 I supposed, of course, that dinner had been set 
 before them while I was moving. On hearing this, 1 
 thought if this was a specimen of the treatment I was 
 to re(eive, I must lare hard, indeed, and my heart sunk 
 within me. Never before nor since was 1 so completelj" 
 overcome. It wa.s so unexpected, that before I had time 
 to rally, I ha<l. in the language of Scripture, "no more 
 8])irit in me." 
 
 My wife saw this in my sunken countenance, and 
 though she felt bad, and hungry enough to weep, she 
 thought that it would not do for both of us to be down 
 at the same time, so she rallied and cheered me up, 
 saying, "Never mind; we'll soon get something to eat, 
 and get along somehow; and things may.be more 
 favorable herealter." As my bad feelings were more 
 on her and the children's account than my own, it 
 relieved me greatly to see her thus cheerful. If 1 had
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUXSON. 265 
 
 been the only suiferer, I should have held up in as 
 much cheerfulness as possible; but to see loved ones 
 thus suffer, and thnt too in accompanying me in the 
 ministry, was what so deeply affected me. 
 
 Our goods were just thrown into the house, and 
 nothing yet in place. "We had carried some provisions 
 with us. and had procured some wood, and soon had a 
 fire and supper; and then, being weary, worshij^ed 
 God, spread our beds on the floor, and lay down to 
 rest. 
 
 The cold reception my family met with, soon leaked 
 out. The steward iiimself being out with me did not 
 know that my family had no dinner. His wife was not 
 a Methodist, and had not the interest she had in us 
 before the year was out ; and not feeling well, she 
 neglected the courtesies due to strangers, and especially 
 the family of her husband's minister. But a thousand 
 apologies and regrets were afterward made, not only 
 by the good brother himself, but by his wife, and by 
 others, several of whom would have fed me and my 
 family if they had known the state of the case. 
 
 Why I was sent to Detroit, with such a family, a 
 23lace so iar out of the world, and with so little pros- 
 pect of a support, was always a mystery. There were 
 but fourteen members in the city, and but one hundred 
 and thirty on the whole circuit, which covered the 
 entire settled portion of the Territory and the Maumee 
 settlement in Ohio. There were young and single men 
 who could have gone to that circuit much better than 
 I could. The reader will recollect the opposition I had 
 met with from two prominent p»-esiding elders, whose 
 fears were that I would be unmanageable; and I have 
 thought that this appointment was made to try me, 
 and decide whether I would obey the appointing j^ower. 
 If so, they must have become satisfied, as no such very 
 strange appointment was given me afterward. 
 
 23
 
 26G A WESTKRN PIONEER. 
 
 The lintisr I rented had been occupied by the Indian 
 hhicksinitl), his s]jo(> Miisweiini; for a stable. My wife 
 liad feared that she would be afraid ot the Indians, and 
 especially when I should not be at home. Hut she 
 soon got bravely over it. The Indians not knowing of 
 the death of their blacksmitij, came to the shop to get 
 work done. But finding no smith, they came to the 
 house, or to the door, to inquire for him, when my wife 
 by the best signs she could make, informed them of 
 his death. Upon this they would stejj back in appar- 
 ent deep distress, and sit on the wood -pile V»eforo the 
 door, at a loss to kn(>\v what to do. She. seeing their 
 distress, and that they showed no disposition to molest 
 hci* or the children, soon felt her sympathies for them 
 roused u]>. and gave them food. This they received 
 with so mueh apparent gratitude, that she soon became 
 attached to them, and they recijirocated her feelings, 
 and made presents of brooms, baskets, and bowls, 
 wrought out of ash knots, one of which I yet have, 
 filty yeai-s after receiving it. 
 
 One family, in particular, composed of a man, his 
 wife, and a son about ten years old, became constant 
 visitants; ami my wife asked for the boy to educate, 
 which tiiey agreed to. '• when so high," holding the hand 
 to where lie Would probably grow in two years. The 
 Indian s mo<le of entering a house is not by the usual 
 sign of knocking, to ask admittance, but by lilting the 
 latch and entering without further ceremony. After 
 this promise, whenever they came in. the boy was 
 thrust in before them. 
 
 In the en>uing Spring, as I was ])assing the market 
 house. 1 saw this Indian most vehemently kicking and 
 scolding his wife, as she lay dead drunk on the ground ; 
 and taking her by her long hair, twisted her head 
 round, till I feari-d her mck would be broken, so as to 
 get her face ttiwaid nie. and then pointing toward me,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 267 
 
 jabbered away in Indian, from all which I discovered 
 that when he saw me coming, he tried to get her ont 
 of the way. so that I should not see her in that drunken 
 plight. The fact was, he had learned my profession and 
 knew that I disaj)proved of drinking; and feeling under 
 obligations for our rej^eated favors, which he feared 
 would be denied if I saw her drunk, he wanted to get 
 her out of the way. 
 
 As it was — from shame it probably was, and from 
 fear that they would get no more food — they did not 
 come again for several weeks. But one pleasant day 
 after dinner, as I was walking back and forth before 
 the door, and taking my usual smoke of the pipe, I saw 
 him a few rods distant, lying on the gra.ss, apparently 
 pensive and sorrowful. On seeing me he ventured to 
 approach once more, with his pipe in hand saying, 
 "Nichee, Nichee," and motioning for tobacco. On re- 
 ceiving it, he seemed to be relieved from his fears, and 
 ventured into the house for some food. 
 
 My wife inquired where his squaw was. He signi- 
 fied by signs, that she was at home, sick, and pi'obably 
 had been bo from the time of the debauch. So my wife 
 gave him food to carry to her, and the day following 
 she came, evidently very feeble. I had reason to be- 
 lieve that the silent reproof they got for the debauch, 
 prevented its recurrence while we continued in the 
 place, at least, for their visits were frequent, but I never 
 saw any thing of the kind again. 
 
 The circuit, at that time, extended to all the white 
 settlements in the Territory, except the one at St. 
 Mary's, outlet of Lake Superior, which was, perhaps, 
 hardly white. From Detroit we went north to Pon- 
 tiac, tlien but a small village. From thence we went 
 down the Upper Huron, now the Clinton Eiver, to 
 Mount Clemens, and thence down Lake St. Clair and 
 river to Detroit; from thence again to the Eiver
 
 268 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Kousc, ami up tluit btrcum some seven miles to tin' uj»- 
 por settlement; thence back to the river and lake road 
 leadini^ to Monroe, on the River Raisin; up that nine 
 miles, mostly on an Indian trail, to the upper settle- 
 ment, and back by the same path to the lake road, and 
 on to the Maumee at the tool of the ra])ids: and thence 
 right back on the lake road litly-ei^^ht miles, to Detroit. 
 It required four weeks to get round, though wc* had 
 but twelve appointments. 
 
 We arranged a plan so as to preach every Sabbath in 
 the old council -house in the cit}^ and once in two weeks 
 at the other places. To aid in our support a subscrip- 
 tion paper was circulated in Detroit, on which some 
 S200 were pledged, but only 8lO(^ was actually paid. 
 
 Hul another and very unexpected trouble bn>ke 
 out My colleague did not seem to take well with the 
 l)cople in Detroit. The subscrii)tion was raised belore 
 he came on. and when I took my turn on tlie south 
 end of the circuit, having him in the city tor two Sab- 
 baths in succession, some of the outsiders who had sub- 
 scribed refu.sed to pay, alleging that they had sub- 
 scribed for me, but I had gone they knew not where, 
 and left him to till my place. 
 
 This came to brother Bakt-r's ear in rather a rough 
 nninncr beft)re 1 returned; and when 1 reached home, 
 he jiroposed, as I thought generously, in view of my 
 necessities for all the means that could be raised, that 
 he should take the south end of the circuit, embracing 
 Monroe and Maumee, and I attend to the other, with 
 the understanding that we divide the collections, as if 
 we both went all round. To this I agreed, from the 
 necessity of the case, to secure a living, or a j)art ot it. 
 This arrangennnt lell mo in the city every Sabbath, 
 and lo go once in two weeks to the country appoint- 
 ments. Hut all that could be raised could not sustain 
 my family, and my \\'\i'v kej)l a boarding-house. But
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 269 
 
 after all I left the place $100 in debt, which I paid the 
 next year oat of my own funds. 
 
 In the course of this year I saw the operation of 
 the "Under-ground Eailroad." At Judge Lee's, at 
 Monroe, I saw an old negro and his wife, older, indeed, 
 from hard and cruel usage than from years. They 
 were wending their way to the land of freedom below 
 Maiden, or Amherstburg, in Canada. He said he "was 
 forty-five years old last corn-planting time," but his 
 wrinkled face and gray hairs indicated over sixty. 
 
 I inquired, 'Why did you leave your master?" 
 
 "O, my master he be dead, and all we poor slaves 
 were sold to pay his debts, and were on the way down 
 to Orleans to be sold again." 
 
 "Have you any children?" 
 
 "Yes, massa, we have eight." 
 
 " Why did 3'ou leave them ?" 
 
 " Why, when we get down the river to Orleans, and 
 be sold, one goes one way and another another way, 
 and we should be separated anyhow, and me and the 
 old woman thought if we could get our liberty, though 
 we be separated from our children, which must take 
 place anj'how, it would be better for us, and no worse 
 for them." 
 
 "Where did you leave them?" 
 
 "On the Ohio River. We came down from Wheel- 
 ing in a flat-boat, and tied up on the Ohio side one night, 
 and we made our escape and traveled all night to the 
 north. We lay by days in the woods, and traveled 
 nights till we got into the woods; then we traveled 
 days and rested nights." 
 
 " Were you not afraid of being pursued and taken 
 back?" 
 
 "ISTot much. 'Cause there was eighty others in the 
 boat, and they be afraid to leave them to follow us old 
 folks, lest the young ones escape too. But still, for
 
 270 A WKSTKKN I'lONIlKK. 
 
 fear, we lay by of days a few times, till wc roach the 
 wockIs, thon we travel in the daytime." 
 
 ''l)id you not hate to part with your children?" 
 
 "Yes; but it make no difference, for in Virtrinia 
 they were no use to us. Wo was not allowed to have 
 any help from them. If I asked my son to brini; me 
 a drink, when I was tired, in the field, the overseer 
 wouldn't let him. but eurse me to get my own drink, 
 and if we had gone on with them and been sold to 
 ditlerent masters, it would have been no better. We 
 should not likely go all to the same plantation, and if 
 we did it would be no better than it was in Virginia." 
 
 '•How did you know who were your friends, and 
 whom to call on to get food and lodging?" 
 
 "O, these good men's names are all known among 
 the slaves South." 
 
 'llow did you obtain this information?" 
 
 'Why, some slaves who have escaped, aflcr a while 
 came back privately to get their friends away, and 
 they tell us; anrl when we get started, and find one 
 good friend he tells us of others on the road, and so on." 
 
 The Judge told me that one morning, as he was 
 walking down by the bridge to see if an}- negroes were 
 about, lis he was wont to do, and frequeiitly found tliem 
 stopped there by the tollgate, or waiting till morning 
 to find him — for his name was known all the way into 
 slavedom — he saw a young negro, about eighteen years 
 old, crawl out IVoni under the bridge, who showed fear 
 of detection. As he ealled to him not to fear, as he was 
 his friend, the negro a])proached and asked for Judge 
 Lee. "1 am Judge Lee," was the reply, when the ne- 
 gro's e3*e danced for joy, and he asked, 'Please, massa, 
 give me something to eat?" 
 
 " Yes, you follow that path under the bank up to 
 that brick house, and go into the cellar kitchen door, 
 and I'll bo there soon."
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 271 
 
 The negro was hardly out of sight before two men 
 rode up ; one, who was hired at the Mauniee, had a 
 musket, the other had pistols. They inquired if he 
 had seen a young negro there that morning ; they knew 
 lie could not have got further than that place, for they 
 had heard of him on the road. 
 
 "Yes," the Judge told them, " I saw one here not 
 long since, and the last I saw of iiim he was going up 
 the river, as fast as he could well travel," and oif they 
 went at full speed. The Judge then went into the 
 house and told the negro that his pursuers had come, 
 and he had sent them up the river; and directing some 
 food for him, told him, after eating, to go into the cellar 
 and remain hid till he came back. In about an hour 
 they came back cursing the Abolitionists, as some of 
 them must have hid the fellow. 
 
 The Judge assured them that he saw the negro go- 
 ing up the river, and was sure he had not returned, as 
 he had been there all the time, and he was also sure 
 that he had not crossed the river, as that was impossi- 
 ble, except at the bridge. 
 
 The pursuers rode round for a while, but getting 
 no further information of the runaway, gave up the 
 pursuit and went back, cursing the whole fraternity of 
 Abolitionists. In a few hours the negro was over the 
 river and on his way to Brownstown, from wlience he 
 could cross into Maiden, where he probably arrived that 
 night. 
 
 I was also told of one of the meanest of the mean 
 tricks ever played off, and that by a negro himself. 
 He came with his master from Kentucky, to decoy a 
 fugitive into his master's hands, and succeeded too well. 
 He went over into Canada and found the fugitive, and 
 told him that he also had made his escape and wanted 
 the fugitive to go over and help him get over his goods, 
 as he had lots of them, and he would pay him well.
 
 ::/- A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 The fugitive did not like to cross the river lent some 
 trick should be pla^'ed upon him; but after a long 
 parley the decoy Bucceedcd in inducing the fugitive to 
 cross with l»iin. As they api)ro;uluMi the house, the 
 master stepped out, with pistols in hand, and demanded 
 of the deco}-, -What, Jim, are you here too?" Jim 
 pi-etended to bo alarmed, but soon turned in nnd helped 
 iron the prisoner, and conveyed hi in l):uk to bond- 
 age nnd suffering. 
 
 In moving to Detroit four out of five of my chil- 
 dren took the measles and h')<>j)ing-cougii at the same 
 time. My oldest had had the measles l)ut took neither 
 now. The second had hnd the measles, and his sister, 
 older, took it from him, so that we knew he had had 
 them, yet he took them ngain, having them twice. 
 But what was singular in the case was. that in the 
 cough usually attendant on measles, the}* all whooped. 
 When the measles left them the hooping-cough left 
 them also; and all was over in about two weeks from 
 its fii*8t appearance. On inquir}', I was assured by 
 ph^'sicians that two diseases could not exist in the sys- 
 tem at the same time; that one would control and 
 c:irry off the other, ns in this case. 
 
 Ill tlie Wiiiti-r and Spring of 1823 I had a severe 
 attack of intlainniatiori of the hingsand liver. Bleeding 
 was then in vogue, and I was de|)leted at the rate of a 
 quart at a time, and blistere<l all across my breast in 
 proportion. I preacluMi with a l)iister-j)laster, ten by 
 eight inches, on my breast, and the exercise, together 
 with perspiration, causetl it to rise nnd fill till it broke 
 and discharged ])robalil3' half a j>int down my chest, 
 while in the desk. The doctors told me I must desist 
 frrtm jneaching, or never grt \v«ll. But sueh were the 
 cireumstanees of the case, that I must jueach, or what 
 little pay I got would bo stopped, and I risked the 
 danger and piTa«hed on.
 
 REV ALFRED BRUNSON, 273 
 
 One night, while preaching, I told the people that 
 the first time 1 came to Detroit it was to help drive the 
 Bntisli and Indians out of it, and now I had come to 
 help drive the devil out, and wanted to get all the vol- 
 unteers I could. Some thought I would have a harder 
 task of it this time than in the former case. The con- 
 clusion was that the devil had a stronger hold, and had 
 more in sympathy with him, than the British and In- 
 dians had. A man from Maiden, who happened to be 
 present, told of my remarks at home, and I was soon 
 invited to go down there on the same mission, for the 
 devil had long had a controlling foothold in that place. 
 
 When I first came to the place Sunday markets were 
 as common as week-day ones. The French brought in 
 their meats, fowls, vegetMbles, etc., on Sunday as regu- 
 \'di']y as on any week-day. After selling out they would 
 go to church, attend mass, and j^erhaps confess and pa}' 
 for absolution out of their market money, and then go 
 home apparently in good spirits, ^ov did the Ameri- 
 can and foreign population generally pay any more 
 respect to the day, for they patronized the thing, to 
 the fullest extent. 
 
 On this practice I proclaimed a war of extermina- 
 tion. At first it made a stir. But a young Presby- 
 terian preacher who was there joined me in the de- 
 nunciation of the practice, and in a short time the City 
 Council decreed that Sunday markets should cease, and 
 in place thereof a market should be opened on Satur- 
 da}' night. This raised a great fuss among the French, 
 who from time immemorial had thus broken the Sab- 
 bath, and after market gone to mass, then to the horse- 
 races in the afternoon, and fiddled, and danced, and 
 played cards at night. But they made a virtue of ne- 
 cessity, and soon yielded to authority and gave up the 
 Sunday market, but adhered to the other practices. 
 
 We had in the Church in Detroit an excellent sis-
 
 274 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 tcr, wliu liad iIjc inislbrtune to have an infidel fbr a 
 husband. But that it»elf would not have been so bad, 
 if he ha«l bt'cn a gentleman withal, lie j)cr8ecuted liei" 
 in ever}' way lie could without persijiial violence. But 
 this being of no avail, except to make her more faith- 
 ful, he next resorted to coaxini^ an<l deception. 
 
 ilcr lather lived near Pontiac, and he pretended to 
 have business at that place, and asked her to ride with 
 him, and visit her father, etc. She, of course, would 
 be glad to do so ; and as it would apparently gratiiy 
 him, like all good wives she would go to accomr»iodatc 
 him, the thing being lawful and proper in itself 
 
 She soon found that sleighs, before and behind, filled 
 with genlKMuen and ladies, full of glee, were going in 
 the same directiun, and she began to suspect a trick of 
 some kind. She inquired what it all meant. " O," said 
 he, "they are going to Pontiac for a ride and to have a 
 supper, that's all;" and as they approached the place 
 where the}- should turn off to go to her father's he so- 
 licit<;d and urged her to go and eat supper with the 
 conipany, as they were the elite of the city. She would 
 not need to dance, he said, after which he would go with 
 her to her father's, and to please him, and in hopes that 
 if she should do so he would treat her better, she con- 
 sented. lUit, before the cloth was removed from the 
 table, as she told me with tears in her ^'^es, the music 
 sprung up, and ere she was aware of what she was doing 
 she was on the floor dancing. 
 
 The ungodly and ungentlemanly husband now 
 thought he had gaitn-d his pitint. lie pre^sumed that 
 we would expel her, and then, surel}', he would have 
 her to accomi)any him in his downward course; but he 
 counted without his host, for as soon as she got out of 
 the place, and its influences, and the charm was broken, 
 like Peter, at the crowing of the cock, she began to re- 
 pent, and did rej)ent with bitter tears; so much so that
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 275 
 
 he, seeing her great distress of soul on account of the 
 ill-advised act, determined thereafter to let her go her 
 own way, and not attempt to drive, cheat, or coax her 
 away from it. 
 
 In this case our duty, and the truth of God's prom- 
 ise, was truly illustrated. The promise is, "He shall 
 give his angels charge over thee to keep thee in thy ways,'' 
 not oiit of them. If she had kept in the path of duty, 
 Grod would have protected her ; but he has not prom- 
 ised to keep us w^icn out of it. If we go upon the 
 devil's ground, we can not claim or expect that God 
 will preserve us. 
 
 While here in Detroit I saw, what I have since seen 
 more clearly exhibited, that the missionary spirit is the 
 millennial spirit. There was but one Protestant minis- 
 ter in the Territory besides myself and colleague; he was 
 a Presbyterian licentiate, and not being in orders himself, 
 he requested me to give his little flock the sacraments, 
 the Lord's-Supper and baptism. To accommodate him 
 and them, as well as my own charge, I administered 
 the Eucharist once a quarter, inviting them to attend, 
 and baptized them and their children, when requested 
 to do so. In the missionary field we met as brethren, 
 laborers with God in one common cause. IS'o contro- 
 versy between ourselves on non-essential doctrines, and 
 no seeking of the supremacy one over the other is ap- 
 parently thought of; but Christian courtesies, as of 
 brethren in one common harvest-field, seem to prevail. 
 In this is plainly seen the spirit that will prevail in 
 the millennium, when the watchmen of Zion wnll see 
 eye to eye. 
 
 In the course of this year my colleague married, and 
 took his wife with him to Conference, traveling, as the 
 rest of us did, on horseback.
 
 276 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THK Oliio Conforenco for 1823 met in Urbana, about 
 two liundred miles ?ionth of Detroit. We held our 
 fourth quarterly-meetincj, as we did all others, without 
 the presidiiii^ elder, at Maumec, the south end of the 
 eireuit, from whence we started to Conference. Two 
 other friends accompanied us, makini^ five in all. Our 
 route lay throui^h the famous Black or Maumee Swam]), 
 on the road cut out l>y Hull's army in 1812. The fir>t 
 house, after lenvinc: the Maumee Rapids settlement, was 
 a lone cabin, forty miles distant, called Fort M'Arthur. 
 There was not a drop of drinkable water to be found 
 on the road. The idea of i^oini,^ through a swamp with- 
 out water was rather novel, but it was literally true at 
 this season of the year. We saw abundant evidence of 
 water at some seasons, in the level surface of the coun- 
 try, from the quantity of pond-lilies through which we 
 passed, showini^ that the water had stood on the ])lain, 
 in many places, two or three feet deep. 
 
 The timber was very thick and heavy, and the 
 foliage was so dense as to keep the rays of the sun from 
 reaching the ground. The soil consisted of a black 
 muck, made uj), in a great ilegree, from decayed veg- 
 etation, and, of course, in a wet time, would be very 
 soft and miry. 
 
 The flies and mosquitoes were intolerable; they were 
 thick and ravenous, and seldom having blood to suck, 
 they seemed to be intent upon having a full supply 
 when it was at hand, or to bo obtained. Of tlie flies 
 there were two kinds; one was black, and near an inch 
 long, and a third to a fourth of an inch through, with 
 bills capable of penetrating the horse's hide to the depth
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 277 
 
 of a fourth of an inch, if not more. These attacked the 
 horses in the rear, on tlic rump, and on the brisket, 
 and between the fore legs. They were so thick, and 
 bored so deep, that tl»e poor animals became very rest- 
 less, and would sometimes rear and kick, and at others, 
 and generally, would dash through the brush furiously, 
 to get rid of their tormentors. The other was smaller^ 
 j^ellow in color, and resembling the hornet; their bills 
 were long, and from their effects, appeared to be some- 
 what poisonous. These attacked the horses and their 
 riders about the head, ears, ej'es, nose, and mouth, and 
 added much to the torment of the poor animals, as well 
 as the discomfort of the riders. In addition to these, 
 the mosquitoes were in swarms, like bees, and attacked 
 anj'where and every-where, both man and beast. To 
 climax the whole, the 3'el low -jackets, a species of hornet, 
 and larger than the flies just mentioned, were occasion- 
 all}' disturbed b}' the leading horse, when those in his 
 rear would receive the stings with a vengeance. 
 
 The road consisted of a single bridle-path. The 
 marks of wheels were not to be seen, and, of course, 
 we had to travel in Indian or single, file. The fore- 
 most horse took the heaviest shock of the flies, while 
 the hinder ones took the hornets, with a portion of the 
 flies. To defend ourselves, as best we could, each one, 
 while he or she held the reins in one hand, held a bush 
 of some kind in the other, with which to beat off" the 
 insects from the horses, and keep them out of our faces 
 and ej'es. As the foremost horses and riders seemed to 
 tare the hardest, the men took their turns in the lead, 
 always leaving the lady in the center, that portion being 
 the least exposed. 
 
 To give an idea of the character of our tormentors, 
 I will state as a fact, that sister Baker had a thick head 
 of hair, over which she woi-e a thick Leghorn bonnet, 
 and over this she tied a handkerchief, and yet she waJi
 
 278 A WESTKKN PIONKKK. 
 
 frequently slung in the head through it all, and that bo 
 badly as to cause her to cry out from the pain. As a 
 matter of course, wo needed neither whij) nor spur to 
 keep our beasts in motion. The grcah-.vt troul)!** was to 
 Itcep them within a moderate gait. 
 
 About nuo!i we reached the P(jrtagc, or Curr} ing 
 River, whiih had no perceptible current, tiie water of 
 wliich was hardly til tor our horses to drink, but as no 
 other water was to be iiad, we let tliem have a supply. 
 On the south bank of this stream was an opening, said 
 to have been made b}* Hull's army, of about twenty 
 acres. This had grown up with grass, on which we let 
 our hoi-ses feed, as well as they could for the flies; and, 
 to keep these insects in clieck as much as possible, so as 
 to relieve ourselves and the beasts, we kindled a few 
 fires in some old logs and stumps which were left in 
 the clearing; but our tormentors paid but little, if any. 
 attention to the smoke. 
 
 We had brought a lunch with us. and I lia«l a jug 
 of water in my saddle-bags, with which to alleviate our 
 thirst. Under the jug I had a j)urse. with al)out twenty 
 dollars in it in specie, but, as 1 never could find it after 
 ward, 1 suppose that it fell out, unobseived, when I 
 turned tiie bag up to get out tl»e jug. If not lost so, it 
 was stolen that night at the house where we stayed. 
 It was all the money I had to go to and return from 
 Conference witl>, and the consequence was I had to beg 
 my way, or find Iriends with whom I could lodge; in 
 the latter of which 1 generally succeeded. 
 
 We reached Fort M'Arlhur about sundown, and 
 fared as well as common for a log-cabin in the woods. 
 When I went to pay my bill, in the moi-ning, I could* 
 not find my purse, as before stated, aiul the landlord, 
 on hearing the circumstances, let nie go without jiaying. 
 
 On leaching the (.'onference another storm broke out 
 on me. MS uiicxjteeted. and without cause, as any other
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 279 
 
 ever did. I was a Yankee, against whom Southern 
 prejudices ran high, even among preachers. My col- 
 league the past year was a Virginian, who seemed to 
 feel so!nething of that sectional pride, so conspicuous 
 among the chivalry, and the idea that a Yankee should 
 be more acceptable to the people, as a preacher, than a 
 Virginian, was not at all agreeable to his chivalric pride. 
 While on the spot where the preference occurred, he 
 expressed his entire satisfjiction with me and the course 
 I had pursued, and on the way to Conference he had 
 repeated the same thing; but, on reaching Conference, 
 and mingling with the leading spirits of it, with whom 
 he was acquainted before he entered the itinerancy, 
 who, it seemed, learning from him — for no one learned 
 it from me — the circumstance, and feeling a little piqued 
 upon tlie subject, they encouraged him to complain of 
 me for not defending him nolens volens, and continuing 
 him to preach in Detroit, though it should have been 
 the means of starving me and my family. 
 
 A committee w^as appointed to hear and investigate 
 the case, before whom he had to acknowledge that his 
 leaving Detroit was on liis own proposition and not mine. 
 He further acknowledged that he liad expressed entire 
 satisfaction with me at the time ; but on coming to 
 Conference and conversing with some of his old friends, 
 he had, at tlieir instance, complained; but in reality he 
 did not blame me at the time, and did not know that 
 under a change of circumstances he could or should 
 have done any w^ay diiferent from what I did. Upon 
 this the committee, who were all of Southern stripe, 
 advised him to drop the matter, to which he agreed; 
 and they reported the matter settled, but without 
 stating how or in what manner. 
 
 Bishop Eoberts, than whom a better man never 
 filled the Episcopal chair, being President, said in open 
 Conference, that if any preacher had any peculiarities
 
 280 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 in his case, if he would inforin him. he wouUi endeavor 
 to accommodate him. Accordinglj- I went to him in 
 hi8 room and stated ni}' case; how T had struggled to 
 live, and was then one hundred dollars in debt. I also 
 rehearsed the matter of complaint, and-how it had been 
 settled ; and lie assured me tiuit 1 should be d\i\y con- 
 sidered in my appointment. Accordingly I was ap- 
 pointed to Grand Eiver circuit, to retrace m}' steps 
 of the previous 3'ear, with Robert Hopkins for my 
 colleague. 
 
 This was Hopkins's first 3ear in the itinerancy, and 
 never having been so far from home in his life as he 
 must now go, he felt a little frightened at the thought; 
 but meeting me at my uncle's, near Springfield, we 
 traveled together to our work, about three hundred 
 miles. I soon got him to feel easy and at home with 
 me, and we had a pleasant year. 
 
 On reaching Painesville, the head of the circuit, 
 which was but about half of what I had traveled two 
 years before, I left my horse and took passage in a 
 schooner for Detroit. As soon as possible I packed up 
 and took passage for Fairport, the mouth of Grand 
 River, in the new steam-boat Superior, -with my family 
 and goods. 
 
 On the wa}^ down we met a gale soon after leaving 
 Cleveland harbor, which was dead ahead. My famil}' 
 and many others on board were seasick. The noble 
 steamer rolled so heavily that her guards, which were 
 some ten feet high, reached the water; but her ma- 
 chinery worked without a jar. At length she pitched 
 into a swell that broke over her bows so as to cover 
 the deck ankle deep with water, much of which ran 
 dowMi by the capsttm into the steerage, where my 
 family were lying on our own beds on the floor, too 
 sick to raise their heads or get out of the water. It 
 was now well into the night, and the cajdain knowing
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 281 
 
 that he could not land in at Fairport in such a gale, and 
 in the night, ordered her back to Cleveland, where he 
 anchored till morning. As soon as the vessel was fairly 
 moored, with her head to the wind, she lay as still as if 
 in a calm, and the seasickness speedily disappeared from 
 all on board. 
 
 The next morning wc took up anchor, and before 
 noon reached Fairport. But the wind was still too 
 high for so large a boat to enter the harbor between the 
 piers, or at least the captain thought so, and he let go 
 his anchor a short distance out, and landed us by the 
 longboat. By the aid of teams I soon got my family 
 and goods into Painesville, where wc lived for the 
 year. 
 
 From the time I left Detroit to go to Conference till I 
 got settled on m}^ work, I traveled nine hundred miles, 
 two-thirds of it on horseback; and the year before I 
 traveled the same distance, with four-fifths of it on 
 horseback. This circuit, as before stated, was but a part 
 of the one I traveled two jears before, two four-weeks' 
 circuits having been formed out of the old one. We 
 now had twenty-four appointments each to fill in four 
 weeks, and so arranged the plan as to meet every two 
 weeks in Painesville. 
 
 The disease with which I was afflicted in Detroit 
 still lingered about me ; both mj' lungs and liver were 
 seriously affected, and m}" blood proved to be in a very 
 bad state. One doctor attempted to bleed me, but my 
 blood was too thick to run out of a large orifice. It was 
 as thick as tar, and as black. Another doctor applied a 
 large blister-plaster over my breast. This drew w^ell, 
 and caused a large flow of water, but the place would 
 not heal up as before, and continued a running sore, to 
 dry up which he applied flour. I took, in the mean 
 time, ninety small doses of calomel to stimulate the 
 liver, but to no effect. Feeling the mineral all through 
 
 24
 
 282 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 my sYRtcm. I was compelled to tjike a teappoonful of 
 Epsom salts every other day for tljroe mouths. 
 
 We had some revivals on the circuit this year, hut 
 our chief concern was to discipline and train the 
 Church. In doinfi^ this a difficulty of great magnitude 
 arose in my way, from the difference in administration 
 of Discipline by different preachers. One preacher 
 would do as he un<ler8tood the Discipline to require, and 
 liis successor wonhl undo it, because he understood the 
 rule differently; and while some were rigid and prompt 
 in the administration, others were more slack and inef- 
 ficient, deeming it right to do so, or because he thought 
 discipline of less importance than preaching. 
 
 In this state of things I saw the necessity of a sys- 
 tem of rules or comments on our book of Discipline, 
 tending to a 'unifbrmit\- of administration. But how 
 could this be effected? It was, in fact, not so much a 
 marvel that different administrations should occur, as 
 that among so many thousands, recently converted 
 from ajnong all sorts, classes, and descriptions of men, 
 having former jutjudices. pivferences, and predilections, 
 should come suddenly together and harmonize as well 
 as we did. 
 
 The Bishops' (Coke and Asbury) Notes on the Dis- 
 cipline were more of a defense of our General Rules and 
 usages than a director}- or manual of administration. 
 Sabin's defense of our Discipline came nearer to being 
 a manual of ])ractice than did the Bishops' Notes. But 
 this was more of a defense against the attacks of Congre- 
 gationalists than a rule of practice. These two works 
 being but small pamphlets, were the only works then 
 extant upon this subject. 
 
 Under these circumstances 1 commenced drawing 
 up a set of rules of practice, designtd lor my own use, 
 tending to the object in view, and availing myself of 
 these works aft far as they went, taking the Bible and
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 283 
 
 our Discipline as the basis of my authority. But I soon 
 discovered the necessity of a knowledge of the princi- 
 ples of jurisprudence in framing and applying such 
 rules of practice; to obtain which I commenced reading 
 law^, and continued to do so for four j'ears, as I could 
 obtain books, in the mean time taking notes of such 
 parts and principles as would apply to ecclesiastical 
 matters. Of the result of this, more hereafter. 
 
 In the Summer of 1824 I attended a camp-meeting 
 in Mantua, under the charge of Charles (afterward Dr.) 
 Elliott, "W. Swayze being the presiding elder. On 
 Saturday the rowdies came in by scores, and even hun- 
 dreds, and man}' of them would ride their horses inside 
 of the circle of tents, and tie them to saplings in de- 
 fiance of the rules, and the entreaties and even threats 
 of those w^ho had charge of the meeting. It was 
 understood that a conspirac}" was formed, of some two 
 hundred, to override and break up the meeting. 
 Swayze talked, reasoned, coaxed, threatened, and wept, 
 Vjiit to no purpose. Elliott, with all his learning and 
 other good properties, had no talent or tact for such an 
 occasion, and retired to the tent in despondency, and to 
 all appearance we were doomed to be broken up and go 
 home in disgrace. 
 
 But like Paul at Athens, when he saw the city 
 w^iolly given to idolatr}', I felt my spirit moved within 
 me. I could bear to be ridden over crosswise, but 
 when it came lengthwise, and rough shod at that, I 
 could not help squirming a little. I could bear a large 
 amount of j^ersonal abuse, but when the Church and 
 the cause of God were imposed upon, I could but feel 
 the lion in me rise. 
 
 I inquired of Elliott, "Why don't you preserve 
 order on the ground?" 
 
 He, in his blunt Irish and laconic style, said, "I 
 can 't do it."
 
 284 A WESTERN IMONEER. 
 
 "Well," said I, "if il were my meeting, I wmibi 
 quiet them down very quick." 
 
 • I know that," said Elliott, "and I'll give up the 
 meeting to you; I'll make you captain of the guard." 
 
 "Well, if you will get Swayze's consent, I 11 quell 
 the riot in short order." 
 
 At this moment Swayze came into the tent. Ho 
 was pale in the face, his lips quivered, the tears ran 
 down his cheeks freely, and he said to Elliott, 'If you 
 don't preserve order here, I'll take my horse and leave 
 the ground. I never saw such bad conduct on a camp- 
 ground in my life before." 
 
 "O," said Elliott, "I've given up the ground to 
 Brunson, and made him captain of the guard. He '11 
 soon put things right." 
 
 At this Swayze turned to me and said, "O, yes, 
 why didn t we think of that before? Brunson, you're 
 the only man that can save us." 
 
 "Well," said I, "you give it out from the stand that 
 I am captain of the guard, and have the control of the 
 ground, so that no one may think me assuming what 
 belongs to others, and I '11 soon quell the row. " 
 
 He did this, and 1 selected a strong guard and a 
 numerous patrol, whom I enlisted as I did those at 
 Vernon, three years before. Night having come, the 
 < andles and tire stands were lighted, so that the whole 
 ground was well illuminated, (ioing upon the stand 1 
 blew the trumpet, and called the congregation to order. 
 Some hundreds ]»aid no attention to the trumpet, nor 
 the respectful requests for all to be seated who were 
 within the circle of the tents, and were moving round 
 as if at a State fair. 
 
 I then had a voice and ])hy8ical strength that eould 
 cover ten thousand people, and make them distinctly 
 hear all 1 said. This I raised high enough to fill the 
 cirelo formed by the t^ut*i, and for half a mile round,
 
 rev: ALFRED BRUNSON. 285 
 
 and said, "There are certain lewd fellows of the baser 
 sort, who have neither character nor breeding, who 
 have come here to disturb ns, and we wish to know 
 who they are, that we may apply the law to them. 
 For this purpose we request all Christians, and all gen- 
 tlemen and ladies to take their seats, leaving the 
 rowdies on their feet, that we may know whom to 
 take hold of" 
 
 At this the largest portion of the stragglers took 
 seats; but still groups here and there paid no attention 
 to the request. Eaising my voice still higher, I said to 
 one group, you men by that tree; or you men by that 
 fire-stand ; or in that angle, as the case might be, for I 
 took every group in turn, and when they turned their 
 eyes, and opened their ears, I repeated what 1 had said 
 before to the whole, and the result was, they all took 
 seats, and the ground became as still and quiet as the 
 inside of a church. I felt and spoke as one having 
 authority, and from the quickness with which they 
 were all seated, I concluded that they thought so too. 
 
 Being all seated and quiet, and all eyes fixed on the 
 stand as if expecting a thunder-blast, I said, " They 
 are either not here, or they are ashamed to own their 
 true character ; and from what we have seen and heard, 
 I conclude that the latter is the fact in the case, and 
 I will address you accordingly. 
 
 " We have assembled here peaceably, and under the 
 protection of the laws of the State, to worship God; and 
 whether you agree with us in our mode of worship or 
 not, the Constitution and laws of the State guarantee 
 to us the right, and we intend to enjoy it. But some 
 of you have come here on purpose to molest, disturb, 
 and break up our meeting. This is not only ungentle- 
 manly, anti-republican, and in violation of the laws of 
 the State, but it is a sin against God of a high magni- 
 tude, for which he will damn you to the lowest regions
 
 286 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 of the lake ol tire and brimstone, unless you repent 
 and obtain IbrgivenoRs from him. 
 
 ''Most of yon are the descendants of the New En- 
 gland Puritans, who left their native land in Europe, 
 braved the dangers of the ocean, and encountered the 
 dangers and difficulties of a settlement in a wilderness, 
 inhabited by savages — as some of you have ])roved to 
 l)e — to secure to themselves and their posterity — of 
 whom you are a part — civil and religious freedom. 
 You are the descendants of the jiatriot fathers who 
 fought, bled, and died to secure that freedom, in the 
 Jicvcjiutionary war. Some of you, or your fathers, i>er- 
 iled your or their lives with me, in the late war, called 
 the second war of Independence, and you are now 
 enjoying the fruits of all those things, in the civil and 
 religious liberty you enjoy at home. And if your 
 ancestors could rise from the dead, and witness your 
 conduct upon this ground, they would reprove you 
 for it. 
 
 "As I took a part in the second war ol Independ- 
 ence, and helped defend this very ground on which we 
 have met, and the homes of some of you, fiom being 
 overrun by the merciless savages of the forests, and to 
 secure and perpetuate the liberties secured to us by 
 our forefathers, 1 will not be driven from them. 1 
 have risked life and limb to protect this very soil on 
 which we have met from savage barbarity, and I will 
 not consent to be driven from it by white savages. 
 
 'And now I'll just tell you the upshot of the atl'air. 
 1 have a strong guard, besitles a numerous j)atrol, who 
 are watching you, and will be at your heels; and if you 
 contrive or do mischief, or disturb us in our worship, 
 they will give me your names, and 1 shall have you 
 fined. an<l your names will l)e jiublished in the news- 
 j»a])ers.' 
 
 Xho i)rejKhor l«>r the evening then took the stand,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 287 
 
 and a more attentive audience I never saw. After the 
 sermon, the prayer- meetings Avere in operation, and 1 
 was on the alert to keep and preserve order. But 1 
 could but be a little amused at the course things took. 
 Numerous groups of men were seen standing and talk- 
 ing in different parts of the ground, but orderly and 
 harmless, and of course not the objects of my pursuit. 
 As they usually stood in a circle, the eyes of some one 
 would be in the direction of my aj^proach, and seeing 
 me coming, they would separate, as if fearful of 
 capture. 
 
 A brother afterward told me that he was lying in 
 his tent, wondering what manner of man I was, for the 
 very devils seemed to be subject to me. When a group 
 of rowdies gathered about his fire, back of the tent, 
 one of them said, ''1 wish I had Brunson out here." 
 
 "What would you do?" said another. 
 
 "I would give him a mauling." 
 
 The other replied, "It would take two like you to 
 do that." 
 
 "Why, is he stout?" 
 
 "Yes, you may know that by his looks; and besides 
 that, he has been an old soldier, and I expect an old 
 boxer." 
 
 " Well, if I had him out here, I 'd give him a clip 
 anyhow." 
 
 "It would be a dear clip if you did so, and I advise 
 you to keep out of his hands." 
 
 One of the guard told me that he was standing with 
 a group by a fire, outside of the tents, watching them. 
 They were cracking jokes, but otherwise harmless, 
 when, as some one was coming through the brush 
 toward them, one inquired, "Who is that?" The guard, 
 to see the effect it might have, said he guessed it was 
 Brunson. "Then," said he. "it is time I was off." And 
 the whole group started for some other location.
 
 288 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Brother Darrah, of Beaver, Penn., naid to me. after- 
 ward, "1 would n't have taken the drubbing you gave 
 those rowdies for five hundred dollars; but they richly 
 deserved it, and more too." 
 
 The night pas.sed ot!" peacefully, and many souls were 
 converted in the prayer-circles and tents. Believers 
 were quickened, and the work moved on with power. 
 
 The next day a Presbyterian deacon told me, pri 
 vately, that some two hundred rowdies were coming 
 that night, with stones in their pockets, to get behind 
 the stand, and when I was seating the congregation, to 
 pelt me with their missiles, as I stood in the stand, and 
 let them go as it might happen, among the j>eo}»le, hit 
 wliom they would. I thanked him, and took measures 
 to defeat their ill-devised scheme. That night, in seat- 
 ing the congregation, I told the rowdies what 1 had 
 heard, and said, "I told you last night that I would 
 have men at your heels, and if 3'ou contrived mischief 
 they would tell me of it, and now, here is the proof of 
 it." And turning toward the ravine behind the stand, 
 where I had men i»osted to watch the rowdies, I roared 
 defiance at the enemy. The reverberations sounded 
 and resounded till they were lost in the distance down 
 the ravine. No stones came from that or any other 
 direction, and we had another peaceful and blessed 
 night. 
 
 The next morning our trumpet was gone, and some 
 one soon intbrmed me that it had been pawned for 
 whisky at a shanty, just over a mile from camp, which 
 was the limit of the law protecting such meetings. 
 To collect the congregation, therefore, I had to use the 
 trumpet voice with which nature had furnished me. and 
 the peo|)le soon came together. 
 
 I told them "that the trumpet had been stolen and 
 carried ott". and as it was jtrobable that no man w^ould 
 have the hardihood to commit such a sacrilegious theft,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 289 
 
 1 thought it most likely that some thoughtless boy had 
 been induced to do it. If so, and he should escape 
 with impunity, he might be encouraged to steal again, 
 and if he grew up a thief, he would probably teach his 
 children to steal; and as stealing led to robbery, and 
 rcVbery to murder, God only knew how many might yet 
 be hung as the consequence of stealing that trumpet. 
 Now, if that trumpet is not back here in its place 
 within one hour, I will have out a search warrant, and 
 the man in whose possession it is found shall be held 
 resp)onsible for the theft." In less than an hour the 
 trumpet was found on the stand, but no one except God 
 and the thief knew how it got there. 
 
 The whole meeting, after quelling the rowdies on 
 Saturday night, was one of great power, and much good 
 was done. On Monday night the presiding elder varied 
 the exercises, by having five or six preachers relate 
 their experience; their conversion, their call to the 
 ministry, and a short account of their labors, with a 
 statement of their present enjoyments and prospects. 
 He was apt and judicious in such plans, and knowing 
 the peculiar gifts, powers, and abilities of his preachers, 
 he 80 arranged the matter as to begin with the one who 
 had the least force in such a case, and rise in the grade, 
 taking the next highest, and so on liII he came to him- 
 self to wind up. As his gilts qualified him ibr such a 
 task, and to call up mourners, no one objected to the ar- 
 rangement. He saw fit to place me last, before himself. 
 
 During this exercise an old Baptist preacher sat 
 on the stand. He was not at the meeting till that 
 day. and in courtesy he was invited to that seat. He 
 seemed to listen with astonishment; he watched the ef- 
 fect upon the audience, and as he left, with some of his 
 friends, he was heard to say, " If that is the way the 
 Methodists conduct their camp-meetings, I don't won- 
 der they get so many converted as they do." 
 
 25
 
 290 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Xotwitlistanding the advantage llie Church, preach- 
 ers and pef)])le. derived from my quelling the rowdies as 
 I did, 1 luul to suffer for it afterward, both in fletsh and 
 spirit. My name was up lor a •' war-liorse," a hard case 
 to manage, and both preachers and people imbibi'd the 
 idea that in ruling the Church, if in authority, it wouM 
 bo "with a rod of iron," and what would not bend be- 
 fore me must break. Yet, if either preachers or people 
 had a hard or difficult case of opposition to grapple with, 
 they would call on me to do the fighting. Jiut when 
 this was done, and the coast was clear, I might stjind 
 bacU till another such case required my assistance. 
 
 What came from ein'mies 1 cared but little about. 
 But to be viewed in this light, and be treated in this 
 manner by my brethren, for whom, as of the Church of 
 God, I did it, was a sore affliction, so much so that I 
 was olten tempted to wish tliat I had not been en- 
 dowed with such gitls, and been made responsible to 
 (Jod. for their use, even though our meetings should 
 have been broken up, the people dispersed, and souls 
 be lost in consequtnce thereof, because it strewed my 
 path with such lu-nvy thorns. 15ut for this 1 might 
 have pa.ssed along thiough lite easily as man}- others 
 have lione, and been more jtoj)ular and acct-ptable as a 
 preacher, both witli })reacher8 and people, though in 
 truth I fared better with the i)eople than with the 
 preachers. But whether in the day of judi;nunt it 
 would \h.' as well for me, is a question for that day alone 
 to decide. My own conscience has alw^ays felt most at 
 ease wlun 1 did my duty to God and his Church, 
 whatever the consequences might be, leaving conse- 
 quences with my final Judge. 
 
 Seven yeai*s after this camp-meeting 1 w:\s at a 
 melting of tlu' same kind in Shalersville. when a 
 brother came to me and said, "There is a man on the 
 ground who says so and so about you."
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 291 
 
 "Well," said I, "let me see him. He won't say it 
 to my face. It is a lie, and he knows it." 
 
 " I am afraid you '11 flog him." 
 
 "No, I won't touch him. But he won't say it to 
 my face. It is a lie, and he knows it." 
 
 "Well, let me go and see him first about it." And 
 away he went, but soon returned and said, " I went 
 to him and asked, 'What made you tell that lie about 
 Brunson?' 'Why.' said he, 'seven years ago at a camp- 
 meeting in Mantua, he threatened to cane me'" — 
 which was not true — -''and I couldn't get revenge on 
 him in any other way.' And I said to him, 'You had 
 better leave; he is after you, and if he catches you 
 he "11 break ever}^ bone in your body.' And," said 
 my informant, 'the last I saw of him he was mak- 
 ing a straight coat-tail toward home, and the boys 
 were laughing at him." 
 
 At the General Conference of 1824, the Pittsburg 
 Conference was organized out of parts of the Baltimore, 
 Ohio, and Genesee Conferences, which included the part 
 in which I traveled. But the Bishops' plan of Episco- 
 pal Visitation, being in those days made out a year be- 
 forehand, it did not provide for meeting this new Con- 
 ference in that year, and, of course, we had to go over 
 to 1825. before we had a meeting. 
 
 In consequence of this, we met with the Ohio Con- 
 ference for this year, which sat at Zanesville. On reach- 
 ing the place I found that my name had been sought by 
 several as a boarder during the session of Conference. 
 This was so different from what had ever occurred before, 
 that I could but inquire for the reason ; and was told 
 that they remembered the camp-meeting which I at- 
 tended four years previous, near that place. But what- 
 ever might have been the cause, such a reception, so differ- 
 ent from f(jrmer treatment, could not but be gratifying. 
 
 At this Conference some of the Wyandot converted
 
 29'2 A WKSTEkN HIONKKK. 
 
 liitliaiKS were in attoiulaiUH*. It bi-ini^ only nhoiit ten 
 yours siiKo tlio late war with England, in which thou- 
 Hatxis of our citizens were on^aijjod in <lcadl\' strife with 
 Indians, allied to the British, the public mind was on 
 tiptoe to see a Christian and civil i/.ed Indi:in. or any 
 number of such; of course, all eyes were open to see, 
 and all eare open to hear what they would say. To 
 gratify this curiosity, as well as to show the Chureh 
 and tlie world some of the fruits of our new mission to 
 the aborigines, some of the chiefs were ]>ut up in the 
 pulpit of the Presbyterian Church, the largest in town, 
 and ]»laced at our service during the Conference, who 
 addressed the people thrt)Ugh an interpreter. 
 
 They commenced by giving an account of their con- 
 version, and then gave a statement of someof tlie fruits 
 of the (iospel among them. One said : -When theAVord 
 of God came among us, it met with opposition, from 
 the natural enmity of the human heart to the things 
 of God. But opposition was in vain. The Word took 
 eftect; and" — raising his hands and pushing back — 
 'you might as well stop a thunder gust with your 
 hands as stop the Word of God ; it will go, \vhen God 
 sends it." In illustration of its etVeets upon them, he 
 said it tamed the wild man, and like him from among 
 tombs, they sat at tl»e feet of Jesus, and were eiotheil 
 and in their right minds. He said. 'Once y«»u were 
 afraid of us, an<l we were afraid of you ; but now we 
 meet as friends and brethren, in love and good-will." 
 This remark went like an electric shock through the 
 audience, whei-e there were hundreds of those who 
 were soldiers in the late war. 
 
 Among the listeners to the chiefs, on this occasion, 
 was (ieneral ('ass, then Governor of Michigan While 
 1 was in the territory, two years betore, 1 had laid the 
 cause of Indian Missions before him. and urge<l the 
 fruit of the missions at Upper Sandusky, of which he
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 293 
 
 had some knowledge, in favor of missions among the 
 Indians under his immediate charge, as general suj)er- 
 intendent of Indians. Being personally acquainted 
 with J. B. Finley, who then had charge of the Wyan- 
 dot Mission, he applied to him, and through him to the 
 Conference, to establish missions among his Indians 
 in Michigan. I believe he had an interview with 
 Bishop Soule and his cabinet on the subject, and it was 
 reported that the result ot the interview was, that 
 missions should be there established, and that the gov- 
 ernment funds for the support of schools, blacksmiths, 
 and farmers, should be applied through the mission. 
 But why it failed to be accomplished, I never knew. 
 
 My appointment this year (182-1:) was on Youngs- 
 town circuit, with John Summerville for a colleague. 
 This was a part of the old Mahoning circuit, which I 
 traveled four years before, and lay in the south-east 
 part of Trumbull county, now Mahoning county, Ohio. 
 I moved my fiimily into Youngstown village. The cir- 
 cuit had on it about twenty appointments to be filled 
 in four weeks, by each of us, two weeks apart. 
 
 But my family being large, having seven children 
 at this time, and my receipts from my circuits never 
 exceeding 8200, and seldom that, out of which I had to 
 pay house-rent, I found my receipts were not equal to 
 my expenses, and that I must either locate them where 
 they could do something toward a living, and then 
 travel as far as I could from home, or to locate myself 
 with them. To this last idea I could not consent with 
 a clear conscience toward God, and, therefore, was com- 
 pelled to do the other. 
 
 I had a small farm that I had left when I com- 
 menced moving to my circuits; but its situation was 
 not such as suited me for traveling nor my family as 
 a residence; I therefore purchased a piece of land in 
 Hubbard, near a church, and at a point where some
 
 294 A WESTERN PIONKEK. 
 
 BIX or ei^lit circ iiits would be witliin a da}''^ ride from 
 home. I Kold my other land to obtain nu-anH to pay 
 for it. and disehar^ed some debts that had accrued. I 
 soon found that there was a wide ditl'erence between 
 j)ayini^ house-rent, and for all my wood, vegetables, 
 hay, milk, etc., and having them of my own produc- 
 tion. Though it cost me much more travel, and kept 
 me longer from home, generally, yet that loss and in- 
 convenience was my own. and not that of the circuit. 
 Three circuits were about as cotivenient to me as if I 
 lived on them, all of wliich 1 rode in turn, though af- 
 terward I had to ^o further. 
 
 The doctrine that an itinerant must move his family 
 on to his ( harge is a good one, provided his charge 
 will su])])ort him. Hut if he must draw upon his own 
 resources to live, it is but just for him to use them to the 
 • best advantage; otherwise they will be exhausted, and 
 then he must locate anyhow. Where circuits can not 
 sui)port their preachers, it is certainly preferable to have 
 a preacher for them who lives at home, and can make 
 up their deficiencies from his nwn resources, than to 
 have no preacher at all. 
 
 In the beginning of Winter, a notice aj)i)earcd in 
 the Warren ])aitcrs that a dancing-school would com- 
 mence in that village on the Tuesday night following. 
 My ajipointnuiit came there on the Sunday i)revious. 
 The dancing-master was said to have three wives in 
 ditferent parts of the country, whicli was certainly no 
 recommendation of him oi- any other, as a teacher of 
 morals, and esjM'cially to young ladies. 
 
 As I had made war upon sin and the devil, I preached 
 against dancing, and showed from Scripture, reason, 
 and common sense the sinfulness of it; the bad effects 
 of it on health an<l morals, and especially if taught by 
 a man having a plurality of wives ; and concluded by 
 saying, " I hope that no Christian or believer in Chris-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 295 
 
 tianity will patronize that school, for you profess to 
 believe that John the Baptist was an eminent proj^het 
 of the Lord; and yoii know that his head was taken off 
 to reward a damsel of doubtful reputation for dancing. 
 And I hope no ]\Iason will patronize it, for you believe 
 that John was an eminent friend and patron of the 
 order. It would be inconsistent for you to perpetuate 
 an institution, to reward which the Church and fra- 
 ternity were deprived of his valuable services." 
 
 The next morning, before leaving town, I was in a 
 law office to borrow books to prosecute my legal studies, 
 where w^ere several students who were Masons. They 
 asked me if I was not one. I replied, "I am." "I 
 thought so," said one of them, " by your remarks yes- 
 terday." Upon this I renewed my exhortation. The 
 next round I was told that before night every Mason 
 in town was informed of the fact, and went against the 
 school ; and when the time for beginning it came but 
 two or three pupils appeared, and the dancing-master 
 took sudden leave. 
 
 In the Summer of 1825 I went, at the request of 
 brother Elliott, the presiding elder, to a camp-meeting 
 in Wajne. He said my stated appointment on Sun- 
 days, at such meetings, was at three o'clock, P. M., 
 when the rowdies were usually uneasy and troublesome, 
 being then about to leave the camp. In tiiat neighbor- 
 hood the Good Master had favored the Methodists with 
 the conversion of about two hundred souls; but a sys- 
 tem of proselytism had been so ingeniously and suc- 
 cessfully practiced, that half or more of these had been 
 induced to join other Churches. Many of these prose- 
 lyters were on the ground, watching for ne\v spoils in 
 the case of new conversions. 
 
 If our converts choose to go to other folds, disre 
 garding the indications of God's will in their being 
 awakened and converted among us, and of their own
 
 296 A WESTKKN PIONEER. 
 
 accord, wr sjjv to them, go ; we want none but volunteers, 
 those who, from principle, prefer tlieir sj)i ritual birth- 
 place as their home ; but when they arc led away, 
 ni^ainst their first convictions of duty, by artful maneu- 
 vering and false representations, we deem it but right 
 to enlighten them as to the truth in the case, and to ex- 
 ])0sc to public view the deceptions resorted to in such 
 mattei*s. When other Ciiurches will change, or modify, 
 their creeds, or confessions of faith, or receive persons 
 into their membership who profess doctrines opposite 
 to their own, we deem it but just and right to expose 
 the dishonesty. 
 
 These being the circumstances of the case, our cause 
 demanded a defense, and the task was laid upon me, as 
 usual, and I confess that I bore down on such practices 
 with a heav}- hand, and declared that I would as soon 
 t;»kc my neighbor's sheep by thefl, or rob his hen-roost, 
 as to induce away, or steal b}- false representations, 
 other people's converts; if any Methodist preacher was 
 known to do so, I would hold up both hands to expel 
 him from the Church. If men recently or long since 
 converted, actually, and from their own researches, 
 change their views of the Gospel, and wish, from this, 
 to change their Chui-cli relationship, we make no objec- 
 tion to their going, and, if their deportment has been in 
 accordance with Christian j)rinciples, wo will give them 
 a letter or certiticate of the fact, as a recommendation 
 to their newly selected fraternity; but against fraudu- 
 lent prosel3tism we entei- a strong and unmistakable 
 protest. 
 
 As a matter of course, the guilty squirmed and 
 writhed, and. like men guilty of other wrongs, when ex- 
 ]»osed, threatened ))ersonal violence. Some threatened 
 to ride me on a rail; others, tar and feathers; while 
 others talked loudly of the use of the horse-whip. The 
 spirit tlius manifcHted showed, unequivocally, a spirit
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 297 
 
 Other than Cliristian, and also showed that the young 
 converts who had been thus led into their fellowsiiip, 
 had but poor prospects of a growth in grace and in the 
 knowledge of the truth. 
 
 Even in cases of voluntarily going from us, for the 
 sake of popularity, or to avoid the cross of being a 
 Methodist, or to be under less rigid rules of discipline, 
 has never resulted in the advancement of the subject in 
 the Divine life, but invariably resulted in a settled, 
 dead formality, or total apostasy; and mostly the latter. 
 
 Some of our faint-hearted brethren almost fainted 
 under the discourse, from fear lest those who were ex- 
 2)osed should take offense and raise a muss ; but the 
 discourse resulted in good. Men of the world, who took 
 no sides in the contest, but had seen and known of the 
 schemes resorted to to proselyte, said it was just and 
 true, every word of it. The exposure prevented further 
 perversions of young converts in that region, at least 
 for that time. 
 
 At one of my appointments a good sister had a TJni- 
 versalist, or hell-rodemptionist, for a husband. He was, 
 however, a gentleman, and treated his wife, and her 
 Christian friends, with due courtesy and respect; but he 
 was uneasy in his mind. Like all others I have ever seen 
 who espoused that soul-damning creed, he must bo con- 
 stantly arguing with some one in support of his creed. If 
 he grappled with one who Avas not skilled or learned in 
 such polemics, and could get the better of him in argu- 
 ment, then he felt elated for a while with the hope — not 
 the conviction, but hope — that his- doctrine would stand 
 the test. If he wa*^ worsted in the argument, then he 
 was in great fear of the future, and that there is a hell, 
 out of which he could not escape if once cast into it. 
 
 At length he concluded that he must try me. If 
 he could get the better of the argument with me he 
 thouirht he could feel contented, and settle down in his
 
 298 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 bolief. So, to get an opportunity for his pur]>ofle, he in- 
 vited me to Htay with him over night on one of my 
 rounds, an<l jisked, as a I'avor, to disciiHs the qiieHtiun, 
 and to answer some of Winclu'stor's strong j)oints, if I 
 couKi. I told him that I made it a rule not to go to a 
 friend's house and receive liis hospitalities, and then dis- 
 pute with him on Iiis liivorite theories; that 1 was satis- 
 fied with m}' creed, and he could not convert mo, and I 
 presumed it was the same with him. "In preaching," 
 said I, " I endeavor to set forth the trutli, and if 1 can 
 will thus correct liis errors; but I prefer not to argue 
 the case here, and under tlie circumstances under which 
 I am here." 
 
 He said tliat in preaching I had conflicted with the 
 points alluded to in Winchester, and one object he had 
 in view in inviting me to his house was to discuss this 
 question, and ho would esteem it as a favor if I would 
 do so. lie frankly acknowledged that he had his doubts 
 sometimes, and wished to know the truth ; he did not 
 wish to deceive himself, or be deceived, in this mutter. 
 
 "Well, then," said I, "if it must be so, bring on 
 your book, and let us see those strong points." The 
 book came, and he turned to the spot and read. " But 
 stop," said I, " he do n't quote the Scrij)ture correctly. ' 
 
 " O, certainly, he must do that; he would not dare 
 to misquote, for he would know that if ho did he would 
 be detected." 
 
 "Well, get your Bible, and turn to the place in 
 Isaiah. I assure you that there is a contlition ex- 
 ])re8Si'd whi< h ho ban omitted, and gives the passage a 
 positive and unconditional form." 
 
 On examination In* found it so, and o.xprossod his 
 surprise that such a man as Winchester should thus do 
 liberately attempt to doceive his readers, liut ho would 
 try another })as.sago, ami another, and so on for a <lozen 
 or so, in all of whioh ho found the text either mutilated,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 299 
 
 misquoted, or but partially quoted, leaving the condi- 
 tions upon which God promised salvation out of sight. 
 Upon this he threw down the book, and said he would 
 have nothing more to do with it. Being now without 
 that false prop to lean upon for salvation, he sought it 
 ir Christ, and found it, to the joy of his soul. 
 
 This Conference year was a successful one. Many 
 souls were converted to God, and the Church seemed to 
 be edified and built up in tiie most holy faith. We had 
 some disciplining to attend to, but on the whole it was 
 a peaceful year. 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 THIS year (1825) the Pittsburg Conference met for 
 the first time, after its organization, in the city 
 of Pittsburg, Penns3^1vania, Bishop George presiding. 
 
 This brought together parts of three Conferences, 
 the Baltimore, Oliio, and Genesee, and showed the dif- 
 ference in the administration of the same rule in 
 different Conferences, and also different usages. The 
 Baltimore usage was decidedly the most in accordance 
 with the letter and spirit of the rules. 
 
 In the Ohio, and, I believe, in the Genesee Conference, 
 the rule allowing the children of the preachers some- 
 thing to subsist upon, was, and had been, up to that time, 
 entirely ignored. Each preacher was. if married, allowed 
 two hundred dollars for himself and wife, but nothing 
 for his children, and nothing for house-rent, fuel, or 
 table expenses, as the rule provided; but simply 
 "quarterage" for himself and wife, with his moving or 
 traveling expenses. The Baltimore preachers had been 
 allowed, as the rule provided, for self, wife, and chil- 
 dren ; and also for house-rent, as well as for moving and
 
 800 . A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 travel in«^ cxponRes. This, of coui-se, made a ^rcat 
 diffeivnce in our claims and receipts. 
 
 Ai^ain : owinir t<> the iioii-paymoiit of the bare two 
 hundred dollai^s in the Ohio Conference, tlie preachers 
 declined to take up, and the people declined to give a fifth, 
 or Conterence collection : while the Baltimore j)reachers, 
 whether (heir full claims had been ))aid or not. brou^^ht 
 up their Conference collections, and very icspectable 
 ones at that. This made a ^reat dift'erence in the 
 npj)earance of things in the Minutes and records. 
 
 Another difference lay in the mode of applying the 
 Conference funds. The Ohio Conference usage was, and 
 it seemed it was so in most of the other Conferences, to 
 appl}- these funds by the "guess and allow rule." They 
 had a system for which there was and is no rule in 
 arithmetic, reason, justice, or common sense, and how 
 it ever got into use with men who could discriminate in 
 doctrinal matters to the splitting of a bail*, was, and 
 still remains an unsolved and unsolvable mystery. 
 
 The rule of Discipline plainly, explicitl}', and in 
 accordance with the laws of justice and equity, allowed 
 every preacher who was deficient in his allowance, his 
 pro-rata portion of the Conference funds, if they were 
 not suttirieiit to pay the whole. The Ohio usage was 
 to bring up as many as possible of the lowest in re- 
 ceipts to a common level, but give nothing to any one 
 whose receipts came up to that figure, or were above 
 it, whatever might be his deficiency. But the Balti- 
 more preachers had been in the habit of receiving a 
 pro-rata dividend or percentage on their deficiencies, 
 whether great or small. Though their claims or allow- 
 ances had not been paid on their res]i«H'tive charges, 
 3'et, knowing that they would be enlitled to a dividend 
 as large, and perhaps laiger than the amount of their 
 fifth collection, they were ready and willing to ask, 
 and the ]»eo])le. knowing this also, were willing to
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 301 
 
 contribute. In Oliio, under tlie other usage, neither 
 preacher nor people were willing to do this till their 
 own claims were adjusted. 
 
 It was evident to all that the t^vo usages could not 
 obtain in the same Conference, and, of course, one or 
 the other must be adopted ; and as the Baltimore usage 
 "was evidently with the letter and spirit of Discipline, 
 as well as justice and equity, it was adopted almost 
 unanimously. 
 
 There was still another question to be settled. 
 The Baltimore preachers had been eighteen months, or 
 nearly so, on their circuits, and had held six quarterly - 
 meetings, and claimed and received one and a half 
 year's pay, w^liile the Ohio preachers had been but one 
 year on their circuits, and held but four quarterly- 
 meetings. With the finances we had no trouble. The 
 Baltimore preachers were allowed their claims for six 
 quarters. w4iile the Oh loans had but four. But with the 
 Bishop another question arose. The rule forbid the 
 continuance of a preacher longer than two calendar 
 years ; and to return a Baltimore preacher to his charge 
 for the second term, would continue him on the same 
 work over two calendar years. To avoid any question 
 on this score, he changed the presiding elder who had 
 been three times appointed to the same district, lest ho 
 should go longer than four j^ears in the same district, 
 and the circuit preachers were all changed, lest they 
 should continue longer than two years. Since then, 
 however, Conferences have run fifteen months, and the 
 preachers held five quarterly-meetings, and they have 
 run but six months, and held but two quarterly-meet- 
 ings. The Bishops have decided that a calendar year, 
 in the rule, means a Conference year, whether it be six, 
 nine, ten, twelve, or eighteen months, and that a 
 quarter means three months. Ten or eleven months 
 may be divided into four quarters, and so of thirteen
 
 90^ A WKSTKKN PIONKKR. 
 
 or fointoon inontliH; but when tlicy run fifteen or six- 
 teen months, a titlh quarter will occur, and Heventeen 
 or eii^liteen niontlis will make six quarters. Our An- 
 nual Conferences Betdorn meet in exactly twelve months 
 from the time of the preceding session, which a calendar 
 year would im])ly, and hence the necessity of calling 
 the year a Conference yoiw, which means the time 
 from one Conference to another. 
 
 At this Conference I was a])p(jintcd one of the Con- 
 ference Stewards, and was continued one of that board 
 from year to year for eight years, until I was appointed 
 to a district. At this Conference we commenced the 
 publication of our Conference Minutes. As they con- 
 tained, in addition to our usual statistics and appoifit- 
 ments, a statement of our finances in the stewards' 
 reports, we found it to be of great advantage in our 
 quarterly and Annual Conference collections, and that 
 the preachers would be the gainers in tlie way of 
 support, if they could not sell a copy, to distribute tliem 
 gratuitously among our people. 
 
 At this Conference (1825) I was a|)|)oinled to .Mer- 
 cer circuit, it being convenient to 1113- home. A young 
 brother, by the name of Stevenson, was my c<dlcague. 
 He was pious, zealous, and ])erseverinij. In the course 
 of the yviiv he had a i-un of fevor, and when, fi-oni its 
 effects, he was out of his head, he would sini::, pray 
 and preach as if in a congregation. It lequested to be 
 quiet, as this exercise might injure his lieallh. he would 
 reply, '-How can I keep silence when sinners are 
 perishing around me?" 
 
 Mercer circuit, at that time, was but a ]>nrt of the 
 old Erie circuit, which I rode six years before. It lay 
 in the north-west pari of Mercer aii<l south-west of 
 CrawH^rd county, Priinsylvania. and iiu IndtMl the 
 town of Mercer, and also Salem. trt)ni which Hishop 
 Roberts started into the itinerancy. At this time it
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 303 
 
 contained twenty-four appointments, to be filled in four 
 weeks. 
 
 Here, again, my combative powers, as they were 
 called, were brought into requisition. At Salem we 
 had a church built of hewed logs, and the largest as 
 well as the oldest society on the circuit. The quar- 
 terly-meetings, held here for several years, had been 
 disturbed by some young men from a Seceder congre- 
 gation, about three miles distant; and no efforts made 
 by preachers or people could prevail in preserving 
 order. Our brethren appealed to me, saying, "If yow 
 can 't break up this rowdyism we shall not be able to 
 hold any more quarterly -meetings here." 
 
 On Saturday, the first day of the quarterly-meeting, 
 I mentioned the state of things, and requested the 
 friends to bring plenty of lights, because those who 
 perpetrate deeds of darkness do not like the light. 
 That day and night passed off in peace and quiet; 
 but on Sunday night the rowdies came in force. I 
 gave them a friendly and good-natured talk, stated 
 the law in such cases, having taken the advice of the 
 most prominent lawyer in the county, and the conse- 
 quence if disturbance occurred, and that we must and 
 would have order. But all this they disregarded, and 
 by their actions bade me defiance. 
 
 After preaching a large number of mourners came 
 forward for prayers, and kneeled at benches in front of 
 the pulpit. I stood watching the rowdies, while others 
 were singing and praying with the mourners. Our 
 rule and usage was for the men and women to sit 
 apart, one on each side of the house. All seemed to be 
 quiet for some time ; but at length a young man went 
 over to the women's side, and made a verj' indecent 
 assault upon a girl, who resisted him. At this I stepped 
 upon the bench between two of the mourners, and 
 with one leap cleared them, and at the next step I had
 
 304 A WESTKKN PIONKKK. 
 
 the rowdy b}' the breast, ami was ruDnintr liini back- 
 ward toward the door. 
 
 IJo made a des|)orate spriiiLC and wrencliod hiin>elf 
 I'rorn my ^nasj). and sprang behind tlie door wl»ere lie 
 liad lofl his hat. showing by this that he was bent n\)0}\ 
 miseiiief, and went out of the door in double-quiek 
 time. I then placed two stout brethren in the aisle, 
 and told them to keep the men and boys upon their 
 own side of the house, and took my stand again before 
 the pulpit. 
 
 It was not long before I saw a large, stout man edg- 
 ing his way on to the women's side, and refusing the 
 entreaties of my guard to keep on his own side of the 
 aisle, and showing signs of violence. I made another 
 leap and caught him by the elbow, and gave liim a 
 whirl toward the men's side, and said to him rather 
 sharpl}-. 'That is your side; 1 j)ut these men here to 
 keep the men upon their own side of the house." He 
 looked surprised at being turned round so quick 1}', and 
 moved to his place rather sullenly. As 1 left to go 
 again to m}' sland, he drew his tist to strike me, as I 
 was afterward told, but some stout brethren seeing 
 my movements, took courage to assist me, and caught 
 his arm, and told him to behave himself or he should 
 leave the house. H}' this time he seemed to conclude 
 that ''prudence was the better part of valor." and took 
 his seat and behaved quietly. 
 
 Soon after this a raving young man came uj), who 
 had just learned that his sister was at the mourners' 
 bench, among those wh<^ were seeking religion. I met 
 him and asked what he wanted. 
 
 He said he would have his sister out of that place, 
 or he would — 
 
 "Stop," said I. y.'ii muM use no violence here. 
 You be quiet, and you may speak to your sister, and 
 if she wishes to go, she can go, of course. We did not
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 305 
 
 compel her to come up for prayers; she came of her 
 own accord, and we do not compel any one to sta}^ ; 
 she can go if she pleases, but you can 't be allowed to 
 take her away by force. You are not her fatlier nor 
 her husband. She is as much her own mistress as you 
 are master of yourself 
 
 He spoke to her; but she refused to go with him. 
 He said he would go and leave her. 
 
 " Well, go if you will ; I can go home alone." 
 
 "But I'll take the horse." 
 
 "You have no right to take mj^ horse; but if you 
 do I can go home afoot. I am determined to save my 
 soul, if I can, and shan't leave this place till I obtain 
 pardon for my sins." 
 
 At this he threatened to get help to drag her out. 
 1 told him he could not do that, and as she had de- 
 clined to leave, he would, please to stand back and 
 make no disturbance, or he would be taken care of. 
 Fearing rougli handling, he stood back in sullen silence. 
 
 It w^as not long before she was happily converted 
 to God. She took a good hearty shout, then went 
 home with her brother, who had waited for her, not- 
 withstanding his threats to the contrary. But this put 
 an end to rowdyism in that place. 
 
 Three miles west of Salem, at Greenville, we had 
 another log church, where similar disturbances had 
 been in vogue. We held a two-days' meeting there, 
 and on Sunday night, after inviting seekers forward for 
 prayers, and the prayer-meeting was well under way, 
 I saw two men on the women's side of the house, and 
 went to them and said, mildly, "Gentlemen, we wn'sh 
 the men to occupy the other side of the house; you will 
 l^lease do so." 
 
 One of them spoke gentlemanl}', and said he wished 
 to find his wife to go home. "Yery well," said I, "you 
 can do so." 
 
 26
 
 306 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 But tlie oilier spoke roughly and like a rowdy, and 
 Baid "he efiicsficd he had a right to take care of his 
 wife wherever ho pK'aseil. ' 
 
 "Well, if you are afraid to trust your wife among 
 the women you liad better tiike her and go home." 
 
 Witli this he stepped off the benches into the aisle, 
 and drew baek liis fist and said. • Come down here and 
 I '11 give it to you." 
 
 At this 1 stepped down, and took liim by tlie breast 
 and ran him baek to and out of the door. Tliere were 
 three or four steps to leaeh the ground, whieli was 
 frozen, and he went backward, but how he iande<l I 
 never knew. I siiut the door and set my toot against 
 it to keep him out, when his wife came and asked if 
 she might go out. 'Certainly," said I, "if you wish 
 to," and opened the door for lier to pass out. At this 
 two good stout brethren, seeing what had occurred, 
 came uj>, to whom 1 gave tlie door in charge ; but the 
 rowd}* did not return, and n<j other one gave us an}- 
 trou})le. 
 
 But the next morning the leilow wlio went out of 
 the door in such a hurry was making a fuss, and 
 threatening to send the constable after me, after I had 
 left town, on a charge of an assault and battery. This 
 might nf>t be very agreeable in name, besides the 
 trouble and expense of returning, and probably miss- 
 ing n\y appointment for the next da}'. So, to put n 
 quietus upon him, I filed a complaint against him and 
 had Am anested for disturbing the meeting. In that 
 State, at that time, such an ot^'eiise was not finable b}- 
 the Justice of the Peace, but the offender must be held 
 to bail to answer an indictment before the Court of 
 Common Pleas. This, if he were acquitted, would cost 
 him, for (iMinsel and all. some twenty five or thirty 
 dollars; but if convicted, a fine or imprisonment would 
 be added.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 307 
 
 His friends on hearing the evidence, and knowing 
 that he must go to court, interposed a plea of mercy, 
 before the Justice decided, so as to have the matter 
 settled. I replied that I did not want his money, nor 
 to put him to expense or trouble, and that if he would 
 acknowledge that he was in the wrong, and promise 
 not to disturb us any more, and pay the cost thus far, 
 I would drop the matter; all I wanted was not to be 
 disturbed in our worship, and this being our legal 
 right, I intended to have it. To this he agreed, and 
 the Justice so entered it on his docket. Then the Jus- 
 tice and the Constable gave in their costs. But this 
 put an end to disturbances in that place. 
 
 One of ni}' appointments, about four miles from 
 Mercer, was called New Ireland, from its being settled 
 by a colony from the Green Isle. The people were 
 mostly jDoor and illiterate, but pious and industrious, 
 though not clear of the superstition of the Irish about 
 fairies^ ghosts, and hobgoblins. 
 
 Several families of them, when they first came to 
 Mercer, and before thej' had prepared their cabins, in 
 tiieir new and woodj^ homes, occupied a vacant house 
 north of tiie town, and not far from a mill-pond. On 
 the first night, as dark set in, the fire-flies, or lightning- 
 bugs, which abounded in the valley along the mill 
 stream, commenced their usual gambols, and the at- 
 mosphere appeared to be full of them. At the same 
 time the bull-frogs in the mill-pond began their nightly 
 serenade with all sorts of unknown noises, from the 
 grum thunder of the patriarch of the famil}' to the 
 lowest squeak of the smallest of the tribe. 
 
 To the new-comers, these sights and sounds were 
 new. None of their friends, by letter, before they 
 came, nor by parole, after they had arrived, had men- 
 tioned them, and knowing nothing of such things 
 "at home," they could imagine nothing but fairies.
 
 308 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 TlK*y wcro certain that the fairies liad attacked them 
 in greater force than they had ever heard or dreamed 
 of in their own country. The bellowing of the frogH 
 they imagined were the words of command of chiefs 
 and the replies of the lesser imps, and llic flashes of 
 light they thouglit were the flashes of their miniature 
 guns. To guard against tl»e fatal consefjuences, they 
 darkened the windows, and barricaded the door. No 
 one dared to leave the house and run twenty rode to 
 the nearest neighbor or friend for succor, but spent the 
 night in the most tormenting fear, lest they should all be 
 muidered by the invisible little imps of the bad place. 
 
 At length the morning came. Never was a morning 
 more welcome to a frightened people. The frogs shut 
 \\\^ their hideous mouths, and the fire-flies could no 
 more flash the light, and silence and quiet once more 
 reigned in their new abode. As soon as jwssible, the 
 men went to their friends in town with the most bitter 
 comj»laints for thei!" having advised them to come to 
 such a country as this, lamenting that they had come 
 so lar. and brought their lamilies, to be murdered 
 by the lairii's. They would not stay here, so they 
 wouldn't, but stait lor home that very day. 
 
 Their Iriends stood aghast, (juerying whether the 
 new-comers had become ci*azy or not. But, finally, 
 recovering from the first shock, they in<iuiriMl what 
 was the matter. 
 
 'Why, we never saw the liki' of this for lairies in 
 all our lives." 
 
 'Fairies, man. there's no fairies in this country." 
 Indadc, an(i there is. Didn't we hear them all 
 night, ami see the flash of their little guns as they 
 weri' trying to shoot us? .list come down to the house 
 a!id we II show ye. .\n(l the women and ehilders are 
 n«'arly dea«l with Tear, and they declare they will not 
 htay another night in sueli a muntry a** this."
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 309 
 
 So down they went and heard the whole group, 
 men, women, and children, pour out their bitter com- 
 plaints and anathemas against such a country for 
 fairies. "The like of it auld Ireland never see." 
 
 Their friends assured them there was no such thing 
 as a fairy in this country; that they must have been 
 dreaming or frightened at some illusion; or possibly 
 some mischievous boys had been playing off tricks 
 upon them. "Tell us how they looked or what they 
 were like." 
 
 So they described, as well as they could, the noises 
 and the flashes of light; when the real cause of the 
 alarm flashed into the minds of their friends, and 
 caused a hearty laugh. They took the frightened men 
 down to the pond and showed them the frogs, some of 
 which happened then to open their terrible throats, 
 and at night they caught some of the fire-flies, and 
 showed them the little innocent creatures and the 
 way they made the light. This quieted their fears, and 
 they laughed over their own ignorance and folly, and 
 became satisfied with the country, and made a good 
 settlement. 
 
 There was an eccentric genius in the circuit, near 
 Mercer, by the name of Ben. Stokely, who figured 
 largely in public affairs, and no little in religious mat- 
 ters. He was in early life a Methodist, and came first 
 to the country to survey out the State lands. By 
 working on Sundays he had lost his religion; and 
 though he retained, in his way, an attachment to its 
 forms and principles, yet he chose to be a man of the 
 world rather than a Christian. 
 
 His present wife, and two daughters by a former 
 marriage, were members of the Churcli, and for their 
 sakes in part, but principally from his own love of com- 
 pany, he invited the preachers to his house, and showed 
 great solicitude in having their company. But we pre-
 
 810 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 ferred generally to keep aloof from him, on account of 
 some of his peculiarities. He would, if possible, quiz, 
 question, and dispute, always taking the op|)OHit€ side, 
 be his adversary who he might; and if the preacher 
 showed any impatience, or. as he would have it, gni 
 mad or out of temper, he would put him down for 
 being no bett<;r than him.^elf 
 
 I had shunned his house, though I wished to visit 
 the members of my charge who were in his family. 
 But he had heard me several times, and he was bent 
 u|>on having a visit from me. To try my mettle, I 
 8upj>08e, or see if ray patience would give out, as 
 ho alleged many others* had done, he fell upon this 
 plan : 
 
 There was to be a ball party in town, and some 
 young men had asked him if they might invite his 
 daughters to attend the ball, and if they might go, on 
 the Monday night following. He did not like to sa}' 
 no, as he was ullen in ciuist of votes at the polls, 
 though in reality he meant so. He said, therefore, 
 they might go if tliey wanted to do so, on being once 
 asked, but they should not be asked a second time if 
 they refused the first invitation. But to forestall them, 
 he sent a local preacher to me with a special invita- 
 tion to preach at his house on the same night of the 
 ball, and to have me give it out in the congregation in 
 town. I knew nothing of the ball matter, but as he 
 had often invited me, and I had as often declined, I 
 concluded to go this time and give him a plain talk, 
 and also to visit the family. 
 
 The congregation was large and attentive, and the 
 Word was attended by the Divine influence, so much so 
 that he had to have the room, or, to apj)earance. come 
 <iown on to the floor and <ry for mercy. He would go 
 out-of-doors, and then return to the hall and listen as 
 long as he could stand it, when he would retreat again.
 
 REV. AtFRED BHUNSON. 311 
 
 So he advanced and retreated several times before the 
 meeting closed. 
 
 The girls were not, of course, invited to the ball, 
 after it was known that I was to proach at their home 
 the same night, nor would they have gone if tliej had 
 been and no meeting in the way. This their father 
 was well aware of, but wished to make the matter 
 tdoubly sure, and also to secure a visit from me. He 
 insisted upon my making another appointment for the 
 next round on the circuit, and to this I agreed upon 
 condition that he would keep his seat and not be kick- 
 ing up the fire, nor running out of the door in time of 
 preaching, to which he assented. 
 
 At tlie second meeting I saw his agitation and un- 
 easiness. Before I left him I said to him. "You will 
 have me here, and one of three things must be the 
 consequence: you must get religion, forbid me 3;our 
 house, or have a hard time of it." " Well," said he, 
 "I'll take the hard time of it, for I will do neither of 
 the others." 
 
 The next morning I discovered the same restless 
 uneasiness while at family prayer. The fact was, he 
 knew his duty, and having these services under his 
 own roof reminded him of it, and his conscience dis- 
 turbed him. In his office I said to him, " 'Squire, I 
 suppose you like to be respected in your official capac- 
 ity?" "Yes," he replied. 
 
 "Well, so do I. Y^ou invite me to your house as a 
 minister of the Gospel, and as such I esteem it. to be 
 my duty to pray with the family, and due respect im- 
 plies proper attention to the service. Now I will come 
 once more, but if you continue this restlessness and 
 running out-of-doors in prayer-time, I shall not come 
 again." This I said between ourselves, intending it to 
 remain there. 
 
 But at breakfast, before his family, he told them he
 
 312 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 had a promise of one more visit from me; but tliat if 
 he did not behave better at prayer-time I would come 
 no more. He would make no promises, but would 
 make sure of the visit, aiwi then he would see about it. 
 Ho never troubled mo a^ain on tliat score; but con- 
 tinued in other ways to try my patience, to see if I 
 would i^et out of humor, as lie said some jireachcrs had. 
 
 At one time 1 went there sick and under the 
 influence of medicine, so that 1 could not pray at night. 
 He said he was glad of it, and hoped 1 would always 
 be sick when I came tijere. But the next morning tlie 
 ladies gave me the hint, when breakfast was ready, for 
 pra3'ers, and 1 went to his office-door, being one room 
 in his house, and said, "' Squire, please come to prayers, 
 as breakfast is read}." 
 
 ''O," said he, "I was in hopes you wore sick airain 
 thi^ morning." 
 
 "No." said I, ''thank God, I am well enough to 
 pray," and returned to the room where the family 
 were, and he came too. 
 
 In June, 1826, I was directed b}' Swayze, my presid- 
 ing elder, to met't him at Traiikliii, on the Alioghany 
 Kiver, and accompany iiim and some others to a camp- 
 meeting some distance east of that river, on the slope 
 of the mountains. The Saturday previous being the 
 24th, the annivei-sary of the birth of St. John the Bap- 
 tist, I preached for the Masons in Mercer; preached 
 there again on Sunday, and on Monday, af\er preach- 
 ing at New Ireland, where Stokely met me in the rain, 
 I Went home with him to rest over till Wednesday. 
 
 As I was about leaving on Wednesday morning, he 
 said he tlreamed the night before that he gave me a 
 silver <lolIar; and to do so he took this method: He 
 ]>reRented me with an account, in which he gave me 
 credit for his ratio of the Masonic sermon, of a sermon 
 on Sunday on moral ethics, and the sermon on Mon-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 313 
 
 day; and for my visit to his house, my good company, 
 and for four family pra3'crs, and for five blessings asked 
 at his table, with each a price affixed, corresponding 
 with his taste; all amounting to three dollars, twelve and 
 a half cents. 
 
 On the opposite side of the paper were his charges 
 for going to hear me, for five meals, two nights' lodg- 
 ing, and sixty ears of corn for my horse, all amounting 
 to two dollars and twelve and a half cents; and cash to 
 balance one dollar, which he handed over. 
 
 Wednesday night found me at Franklin, in company 
 with \Y. Swayze, presiding elder, Joseph Barris, Eobert 
 C. Hatton, and I. H. Tacket, jireachers, with a new con- 
 vert at a recent camp-meeting, who wanted more of the 
 good religion, enough to travel one hundred miles or 
 more to obtain it, and on the wa^^ we passed for six 
 preachers. 
 
 The June rains had been falling for a week, and 
 were still falling heavily The river was overflowing 
 its banks. The crossing of the river in an old-fashioned 
 flat-boat was rather dangerous with six horses in. But 
 reaching the landing on the east shore, we took the 
 Bellefontaine turnpike. The ground was so covered 
 with water that it overflowed the pike 'in many places, 
 and in some instances had cut sluices through it, being 
 clay, the crossing of which sometimes was troublesome, 
 if not dangerous. 
 
 The people along the road, who were "few and far 
 between," who saw ns, supposed that we were all 
 preachers, and cil'culated a report that six preachers 
 Avere on their way to the camp-meeting. They had 
 never seen over three preachers at once in that country 
 before, and the idea of six of the cloth, at one time and 
 place, roused up every body to attend the meeting 
 who could possibly get there, expecting wonders, if 
 not miracles. 
 
 27
 
 314 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 We siopjKMl ai Sliipponville for refresh moiits, wet, 
 cold, junl Iningry. The hindhn-il showed ever}- dispo- 
 Bition to render us comfortable, and kindled a fire in 
 the bar-room, which was also the sittini^-room, and 
 we Bpread our overcoats on chairs around it, while 
 waitini^ for dinner, to dr}' them. 
 
 The novelty of seeing six preachers in one company 
 brought both men and boys from the farm-house and 
 mechanics'-shop, some with their aprons on, to see the 
 sight. Some of them contented themselves by looking 
 in at the door or wind<jw; but others, more bold, made 
 some errand into the room, so that they eould enjoy a 
 better sight. 
 
 We reached a Dutch farm-house that night, where, 
 between bugs and fleas, we had but little sleep. The 
 fare, exce])t for our horses, was also of the coai'sest 
 kind, but being the best the}' knew how to prepare, 
 and seeming to be done with ]>Ieasure, we were thankful 
 for it. 
 
 The next day, Friday, we reached the camp-ground 
 before noon. Every thing was drenched with rain, the 
 ground, the tent«, and their contents; but, as the rain 
 had held up for some hours, and the sun shone clear, 
 the prospect of good weather was cheering. We accord- 
 ingly Went to woi-k with good-will ami z.ealous hearts. 
 
 The })eople came to the meeting by all manner and 
 modes of conveyance ; some in wagons, some on sleds, 
 which slid along over the mud and wet leaves of the 
 dense forest with more ease than would have been sup- 
 ])osed by "outsiders;" and some came on horseback, 
 and not a few on foot, and baretbot at that, having their 
 bIiocs and stockings in their hands, to put on when u]>on 
 the ground. 
 
 There was j)reaching that a(terno(»n and night, and 
 on Saturday. We four strangers preached in turn, 
 Tacket being the preacher of Ihc circuit. On Sunday
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 315 
 
 we did the same way, only that Tacket preached, mak- 
 ing five sermons on that day. 
 
 I had tried several times, on both da3's, to start 
 prayer-meetings, without success; for while any of us 
 strangers were in the exercise, either in the circle, the 
 tents, or the altar, the most of the membership seemed 
 to be shy and fearful, and kept aloof; but as soon as we 
 left they would go in and work like men and women of 
 God. This was to me a mystery that I could not solve. 
 
 On Sunday afternoon, when there appeared to be a 
 good state of feeling upon the ground, I made another 
 attempt to get up a prayer-meeting, but with the same 
 results. I left and went into the preachers' tent, and 
 spoke of it as ver}' singular, and wondered what was 
 the matter, when some one said, more playfully than 
 otherwise, as I thought, '^Perhaps they are afraid of us, 
 because we are Yankees." 
 
 This started Hatton, who could crack a joke with an 
 apparent good conscience, which would cause me to 
 blush and mar my peace of mind. Sallying out in quest 
 of game, he approached the first sensible, good-natured 
 looking man he saw, and entered into a friendly and 
 sociable chat. This freedom and familiarity seemed to 
 inspire the man with confidence enough to speak freely, 
 who inquired, with apparent amazement: 
 
 ■'Where in the world did you all come from? We 
 never heard such preaching in all our lives!" 
 
 "Why," said Hatton, "we are a set of Yankees." 
 
 "Good God !" exclaimed the man, "are you a Yan- 
 kee?" 
 
 " Yes; I am right from the Yankee land, in Erie 
 county, at North-East, and have a Yankee wife." 
 
 "Well, the elder, Swayze, is he a Yankee?" 
 
 "Yes; he came from New England, and has a Yan- 
 kee wife, and lives among Yankees in Ohio." 
 
 "And that bio; fellow, Brunson, is he a Yankee?"
 
 316 A WESTERN PIONKKR. 
 
 " Y'es ; lie was Yankce-boni. an«l lives out in Oiiio, 
 ninoiig the Yankees, also." 
 
 "And that little tellow, Harris, is lie a Yankee?" 
 "Yes; he came from among the Yankees in Chau- 
 tauqua county, and he came down on the Alleghany 
 liiver with his horse." 
 
 Upon this the man started back, in ai)i)arent horroi-, 
 and exclaimed, "M}^ God, we never saw so man}' Yan- 
 kees together before!" and drew oft', as if afraid of 
 being contaminated by the contact. 
 
 Hatton could stand it no longer, but broke for the 
 tent, and throwing himself upon the bed. took a hearty 
 laugh, and then told us of his adventure. 
 
 That night while Swayze was seating the congrega- 
 tion, being nearly as jocose as Ilatton, he said, 'I un- 
 derstand that there is some in(piiry and anxiety on the 
 ground to know what countrymen we are. I 11 tell 
 you — we are a set of Yankees. But you need n't l)e 
 afraid; we don't want you or your property, but we 
 may show the devil a Yankee trick before we leave." 
 
 This aroused the curiosity of the people to its high- 
 est jtitcli. and from that time till we left the ground 
 every eye and ear seemed to bo o]>en to see and hear it. 
 There was no sensible tliminution of the congivgation 
 on Momhiy, but as if spell l><)und all stayed to the last. 
 Many were being awakened and converted, and l)e- 
 litvirs, not only Metlujdists but Prosbyterians, amid 
 all tlu'ir curiosity to see the trick upon the (Kvii, 
 seemed to drink deep at the well of salvation. 
 
 (Jn Monday night Swayze, to vary the exercises, so 
 arranged as to have tour short sermons, from the four 
 parts of the same text, and by four different speakers. 
 I do not suppose that he had thought of the trick 
 atler he announce*! it; all he meant by it was. he hoped 
 to see many souls c«)nv(.rted ai»d thereby trick the 
 devil t)Ut of his l)rey, as a trick usually means for one
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 317 
 
 to take from another by some kind of management. 
 But the people hadn't forgotten it, and, therefore, 
 what followed seemed to them to be the trick. 
 
 Swayze began from the stand, from Luke xiv, 16, 17, 
 "A certain man made a great supper, and bade many: 
 and sent his servant at supper -time, to say to them 
 that were bidden. Come; for all things are now ready," 
 and preached about fifteen minutes and sat down. 
 His usual time at such meetings was from an hour to 
 an hour and a half and to see him sit down so soon 
 excited great wonder. 
 
 Before they could solve the mystery I was up on a 
 stump on the outside of the men, and announced the 
 next part from the eighteenth to the twentieth verses, 
 inclusive, "And they all with one consent began to 
 make excuse," etc., and talked my fifteen minutes on the 
 excuses. By this time I could see that the people be- 
 gan to penetrate the matter, and to show signs of be- 
 ing pleased. I sat down. 
 
 Then Barris sprang up on a log in the rear of the 
 entire audience, and took the twenty-first and twenty- 
 second verses, " So that servant came, and shewed his 
 lord these things. Then the master of the house, being 
 angry," etc., and talked his fifteen minutes. By this 
 time the people had turned principally round to re- 
 ceive the fire from the rear, and showed more signs 
 of gratification. 
 
 But Hatton, who was to have taken his stand out- 
 side of the women, was not in his place. He said 
 afterward that he coukl not control his risibles long 
 enough to keep from laughing, and, therefore, kept 
 within the tent, peeking through the cracks to see 
 how the thing went off. 
 
 Barris seeing that Hatton was not at his post, after 
 finishing his own task, took up Hatton's j^art of the 
 text, verses twenty-three and twenty-four, proclaiming,
 
 318 A WESTKRN PIONKER. 
 
 " For 1 8iiy unto j'ou. that none of those men tliat 
 were bidden, shall taste of my 8iipper." In the mean 
 time Swayze, seeing that Ilutton was among the miss- 
 ing, rose up on the stand and took up the same part 
 of the text so that two speakers, one in front and the 
 other in the rear, were preaching to the same audi- 
 ence from the same text, and at the same time. But 
 as Swayze's voice was rather the loudest, and as ho 
 had the advantage of the stand, he was hoard by more 
 than Barris was. 
 
 Barris, in the mean time, was moving round to 
 reach the position assigned to llatton, talking as he 
 went. A crowd of raw Dutch boys and girls now com- 
 prehending the movement, gatliered in before him and 
 were retreating bjukward as he advanced, when a largo 
 Dutch boy stepped into a hole from whence the dirt 
 had been taken to cover the fire-stand, and fell against 
 one of the forks forming the stand, and brought down 
 upon him, say, half a bushel of live coals of fire, as 
 lie lay upon the ground. Upon this he cried out in his 
 agony and fright, " Ilell-fire !'" and sprang to liis feet and 
 ran for the woods outside of the tents, yelping, ''The 
 tuyfel, the tuyfel !" and a host of boys following and 
 laughing to sec what they called the fun ; but poor 
 Hans thought there was no fun in thus being burned. 
 
 At this Barris's risibles gave way, and he could say 
 no inoie, but sat down and hid his face; though, as 
 soon as he could compose himself enough, ho went 
 round to the stand. 
 
 This lell Sway/A' in possession of both the subject an<l 
 the audience, and as l)ut few had seen tho catastrophe 
 whieh befell the boy, all eyes and ears were now turned 
 towar<l the stand. As Swayze was at home upon this 
 subject, for half an hour or more he pouro<l out the 
 dread fid anathemas of God uj>on those who refused 
 to come to tho feast that was provided for them in tho
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 319 
 
 Gospel, and wound U23 by inviting mourners in to the 
 altar, for prayers, of whom, a large number came, and 
 were soundly converted to God. 
 
 This passed for the Yankee trick upon the devil. 
 I had been in several such feats with Swa3'ze before ; 
 and though this resulted in much good to the people, 
 yet, as so much of the ludicrous got into this one, by 
 a mishap, I resolved never to undertake the like again, 
 and never have. 
 
 The people hung on, on Tuesday morning, as if to 
 watch us, and see us safe out of the country. There 
 was scarcely a tent struck, nor a team started when we 
 left the ground. When we mounted our horses to 
 leave, something like a dozen others mounted theirs, and 
 took the same road and accompanied us several miles. 
 
 If nothing had occurred or been said about Yan- 
 kees, all this attention could have easily been construed 
 into an escort of honor. But under the circumstances 
 of the case, we could but suspect it w^as a guard of 
 safety, more than an escort of honor ; and what fol- 
 lows, will exhibit such a want of intelligence in the 
 people, as will justify such a suspicion. 
 
 As we rode along, a Presbyterian elder, who ap- 
 peared to be a leading man in that region, either from 
 his own curiosity, or being deputed by the others, 
 from his rank in their society, rode by my side to 
 make further inquiries as to the Yankeeism. Why he 
 selected me out of the four, I never knew. Whether 
 he thought me the most honest, or suspected me for 
 the greatest rogue, if rogues we were, I can not tell ; 
 but he selected me of whom to inquire. 
 
 He began by speaking of the excellent meeting we 
 had had; of the great preaching, such as they never 
 had heard before; and of the great good that had evi- 
 dently been done ; and, if it would not be offensive, he 
 should like to ask me a few questions.
 
 820 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 ''Very well." Hjiid I. '\£^o on, I will aiiBwer you, if 
 I can." 
 
 '•Well," said ho, "wo have reason to believe that 
 you are good men, have come here to do us pood, and 
 have done us much irood. But there is one great mys- 
 tery in this matter which we can not understand. It 
 was stated on the ground that you were Yankees, and 
 we in this country do not know how to reconcile the 
 idea of. goodness with that of a Yankee; all we know 
 of Yankees in this country, is from peddlers, counttr- 
 feitei-8, lioi*80 jockeys and horso-thioves, and the like. 
 How such men can bo good we do n't know, and we 
 would like to know^ if indeed, you are Yankees." 
 
 I began to think by this time, that if they had such 
 an opinion of '' the universal Yankee nation," it was no 
 wonder they were in reality guarding us out of their 
 country. But viewing their prejudices to be the result 
 of ignorance, or — to select a softer term, but of the 
 same import — from the want of better information, I 
 endeavored to explain, and I assured him that to form 
 an idea of the general charactt r of the Yankees from the 
 conduct of those renegades he mentioned, was doing 
 us great injustiee. "You have rogues in Pennsylvania," 
 said 1. "but it would be doing the community at largo 
 gi-eat injustiee to suppose that all were rogues, becaneo 
 some few had jMOved to be sueh." 
 
 This he admitted was good reasoning. I went on 
 further to say, "The class of Yankees of whom you 
 speak, dare not stay at home, tluy would soon be ar- 
 reste<i and imju-isoned ; and, hence, they go to other 
 and distant countries to commit their depredations." 
 
 1 was aware of what llatton and Swayze had said, 
 which was not strictly and literally true in the com- 
 monly aeee]>tiMl meaning of that term, and I did not 
 wihh to eonrtiet with them; so I had to tell him that 
 they had used the term in rather a joke, on discov-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 321 
 
 ering the apparent fears of the people that we were 
 Yankees, against whom they were, as we judged, and, 
 indeed, knew, unreasonably prejudiced. 
 
 I told him that "Swayze was born in New Jersey, 
 raised and converted in Maryland, and commenced 
 to preach there, but was soon sent into Xew EnghiL I 
 and jS^ew York, where he married and traveled till he 
 came to Ohio, and for this he was called a Yankee." 
 
 "As for myself," I went on, •' I was born in Con- 
 necticut, converted in Pennsylvania, have lived in Ohio 
 several years, but the most of my traveling has been 
 in Pennsylvania, and am. therefore, a Yankee, but pretty 
 well westernized. Hatton was born in Xorth Caro- 
 lina, raised in Kentucky, converted and commenced 
 traveling there, but was sent to North-East, in Pennsyl- 
 vania, to travel, where he married a Yankee wife, and, 
 therefore, calls himself a Yankee. Barris was born 
 and converted in Pennsylvania, but has traveled mostly 
 among the Yankees, has a Yankee wife, and is, there- 
 fore, called a Yankee-" 
 
 "But," said the elder, "we understood that he came 
 down from Chautauqua county on the Alleghany Eiver, 
 with his horse." 
 
 "Yes," said I, "he got on to a raft at Warren, and 
 floated down to near Franklin." 
 
 "O, that is it! Ave thought he rode on the water, 
 and if so, that he must be a wizard, or some such 
 character; but now the matter is plain;' and after a 
 pause, and a long breath, he said, "AVell, I suppose we 
 must admit that there are some good folks among all 
 sorts of people." Upon this we parted. But the trick 
 is probably remembered in that country to this day. 
 
 We had an appointment at the outlet of Conneaut 
 Lake, where was a log meeting-house, built for every 
 body who might chance to occupy it, and we availed 
 ourselves of the common privilege. But we could not
 
 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 induce the j>eople to come to meeting. Universal is in 
 had I he prrdomi nance, and they felt, or rather trred lo 
 feel, that they were safe anyhow. I resorted, as I di<l 
 once before, to a harmless stratairem to excite their 
 curiosity, and gave out that at the next round I would 
 preach from the words of the devil. 
 
 This drew out fjuile a crowd, to wIkjui I preached 
 from Job i, 0; and at the close, said, "You appear to 
 be more anxious to hear from the words of the devil 
 than from the Word of God. The next time I come 
 round I will preach the devil's ftineral sermon. I do 
 not say that he is dead, but criminals sometimes have 
 their funeral sermons preached before they ai-e exe- 
 cuted; and so, I will tell you what will become of 
 him." 
 
 This roused up the inii)S of Satan, who attempted to 
 turn it into fun and frolic- But they chani^ed their 
 tone before it was finished. An old backslider went to 
 a cabinet-maker to induce him to make a coffin and 
 carry it to the meetinfj-house. 
 
 "I will make it,' said he, "if you will carry it to 
 the house. If you do n't cari*y it you shall ]>ay me lor 
 makiiii^ it." But this he declined, and the scheme fell 
 throuirh ; but the word went out lhrou<jh the commu- 
 nity that he had sj)oken for a coffin, and he was fre- 
 quently jeered on account of it. 
 
 At the time a large crowd filled the house, and I 
 pri'ached from }lcv. xx, 1, 2, 3, and 10. I gave such a 
 biograjdiy of Satan as the Bible furnished materials for; 
 how and what he was created lor; how he fell, and by 
 that fall beea'me a devil; where he was sent to, and 
 his final and everlasting doom ; and that all who fol- 
 lowed or served him would have tluir jiart with him 
 in the lake of lire an«l brimstone. 
 
 1 said, furtluT. that il was common for children lo 
 mourn at the iuneral of tluir father, and s(» il would bo
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 323 
 
 in this case, but with this diiference; here children 
 mourned for the loss of theh- father in being separated 
 from him, but there the lamentation would be because 
 they must go with him ; and referred to Revelation 
 xviii, 9-19, the lamentation of those who were inter- 
 ested in Babylon, as a specimen. 
 
 I said, further, it is common for children and friends 
 to 25rovide coffins for their deceased father and friend, 
 and so it was in this case. This turned all eyes to the 
 man who had spoken for the coffin, and before he got 
 out of the house he was jeered by others of his class, 
 and it was a long time before he heard the last of it. 
 
 But the stratagem had its desired effect, for the 
 people, either from shame, curiosit}', or from an awak- 
 ened interest, gave a better attendance to the meetings 
 afterward, and from the proofs given of the existence 
 of a personal devil, the dogmas of Universalism waned 
 considerably. 
 
 AYe had a camp-meeting on our circuit, at Sharon, 
 at which some eight thousand people were in attendance. 
 Some of the most respectable people in the county 
 came with their tents, not only for religious privileges, 
 but on account of the advantage to health, to have a 
 little rural enjoyment, and relaxation from the pressing 
 and burdensome cares of business life. About one 
 hundred souls were converted to God. 
 
 Early in this meeting a woman was awakened and 
 went into a praj'er-circle to seek for mercy and pardon. 
 Her husband, a large, athletic man, supposing that we 
 had some kind of a charm over the people, thought if 
 he could get her out of the prayer-meeting, and break 
 the charm, that her bad feelings would all vanish, and 
 he took her out. When out, and, as he supposed, the 
 charm broken, he told her if she chose she coukl go back 
 again, but that he was going home, about four miles. 
 She, of course, had to go with him, or go home afoot.
 
 824 A WKSTERN PIONIIER. 
 
 But Ik« could not rest, and returned tlio next day, 
 and was himself converted to God. Jle then wanted 
 hi8 wife to ".jo into the prayer-nieetini^ and be converted 
 also ; but he couhi never after that persuade her to Have 
 lier soul. Ho joined the Church and became a leader 
 and steward, but she j^i'oved to be a jierfect thorn in the 
 tlesh. She persecuted him in all ways she could con- 
 trive. If he invited a preacher to his liouse, and did 
 not liMppcn to be at the house himself when he came, 
 she would insult and send him awa}', sayiiii^ she wanted 
 no such men about her house, and would not have 
 them. 
 
 She would seldom allow him to have family- worship 
 in peace, and she taught her children to disrespect their 
 father in almost every thini^, but especially in reliujious 
 matters. In short, she ai)peared to be a perfect demo- 
 niac and lived and died so. 
 
 But the i)Oor mai.i bore it with examj)lary j)atience. 
 He nevei- murmured, but received it as a just judtcment 
 upon him for drai^i^inij^ her out of the prayer-meeting, 
 and he often held it up as a warning to other men, 
 never to oppose or stand in the wa}' of wife or children 
 who desired to serve God and save their souls. 
 
 We closed up the Conference year with a res]>ect- 
 able increase in the mem))ership, and left the circuit in 
 a healthful condition. 
 
 CJlAr'J'lOIl XVT. 
 
 flVll'^ l'ill>biirg Conferonre for 182(1 met in Waslnng- 
 -I- ton, i'ennsylvania. I was appointed this year to 
 Newcastle circuit, one part ni" which was half a day's 
 ride from my home. 
 
 Tliis circuit then embraced parts of Mcrcor, Butler,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 325 
 
 Beaver, and AUegban}' counties, and reached within 
 three miles of Pittsburg city. Many of the people 
 within its limits were emigrants from the eastern de- 
 clivities of the Alleghany Mountains, and were born and 
 raised at a time when that was the outskirt settlement 
 of the State, and brought with them no higher views of 
 civilization, education, and architecture than their 
 fathers had arrived at in what was then the backwoods; 
 that is. a hewed log-house and barn, with shingle-roofs, 
 the shingles being made of split and shaved oak. 
 
 The most of them had settled upon lands owned 
 by speculators and land-jobbers, on ,a lease for five 
 years, free of rent, but were bound to build such a 
 house and barn, plant a certain number of apple and 
 other fruit trees within the thirty acres they were 
 bound to clear and fence into fields of not more than 
 five acres each. If they renewed the lease, it was upon 
 condition of paying rent, or clearing, fencing, and 
 breaking up another specified quantity of land. They 
 seemed not to know the advantage of cellars, but 
 buried their vegetables and apples, if they had any, in 
 the ground. Some had been long enough on their farms 
 to buy them and pay for them from their produce, but 
 3'et seemed not to advance in the arts of living, or know 
 how to use what they had, in what was called refined, 
 or the better mode of living. In short, they lived 
 coarse, while with the same kind of materials others 
 lived in much better state. But they were generally a 
 peaceable and industrious people, and as more refined 
 people mingled in their settlements, the}' made advances 
 in their modes of living. 
 
 The Shenango River lay between my home and my 
 circuit. I visited m}' family once in four weeks, and to 
 do so had to ford this river, as there was then neither 
 bridge nor ferry at or near Newcastle. On one occasion, 
 in crossing a ford one liundred and fifty or two hundred
 
 826 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 yards v kIc, the water beini; up to my saddle-skirts, 
 nn«l very swit\, my horse slijiped on a smootli rook and 
 fell, and the current was so stroni^ that he could not nse 
 with me on him, so I had to dismount to let him up; 
 and then I could not rise to the saddle out of the 
 water, and had to lead the beivst some ten rods to the 
 shore before 1 could remount him, and then had to rido 
 ei;:^htcen miles in my wet clothes to reach home before 
 I could chani^e. 
 
 At another tiino I was crossini^ in the Winter at a 
 narrower place, whore the ice had made out from each 
 shore, but the water was open in the middle. At tlie 
 edi^e of the ice the water was about two or two and a half 
 feet deep. Off this I must go at a jump, and rise the same 
 heii^ht on the opposite side. 1 was there and must cross, 
 or not reach home on that round. If I did not my wife 
 would think me drowned in attempting to cross that 
 river, for she knew it was between us. I went to this 
 place expecting to find it frozen entirely over. As it 
 was, I forced my horse off the ice, and he plunged so 
 deej) that the water came over the tops of n»y boots and 
 filled them. In this l)light I had to ride three miles to 
 reach the tirst house, where I could change. B}' that 
 time it was dark, and the water on me was frozen, and 
 m}* boots were much stiffened, the water in them being 
 nearly congealed; but I succeeded in thawing out, 
 changing my socks, antl reached home before midnight. 
 
 At another time I had an extra appointment, which 
 required me to cross, by a ford, another branch of the 
 Jieaver itiver, which was one hundred and filly yards 
 wide at that place. The water was up to my sad- 
 dle-skirts. Just below the ford the water was com- 
 pressed between two rocks, not over filty yards apart, 
 ami then tumVded down a hundred or more feet, over 
 broken rocks, in a j)erlect foam. If my horse had 
 stumbled and fallen, nothing could have saved both him
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 327 
 
 and his rider from going down the awful ehaym; but. 
 the bottom proved to be smooth, and we reached the 
 shore in safety. The congregation proved to be very 
 small ; indeed, the peoj^le, knowing that the water was 
 high, did not expect me. 
 
 We had an appointment at Zellenople, in a Baptist 
 church, which we occupied alternately with them, in 
 consideration of three hundred dollars, paid by our 
 friends toward the building of it, to be refunded when 
 they required the whole occupancy of it. 
 
 I preached one day on a subject which led me to 
 speak of the third heaven, and of the first and second, as 
 necessarily preceding it. The first I described as being 
 the Gospel dispensation, as in the command to "repent, 
 for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;" the second I de- 
 scribed as being the grace of Grod in a regenerated soul, 
 as '*the kingdom of God is within you;" and the third, 
 as being the paradise of God, the abode "of the spirits 
 of just men made perfect." 
 
 On my way from the church to the house where I 
 lodged, I overheard the good sister say to her husband, 
 " Brother Brunson's views of the first and second heaven 
 are different from what I ever heard before." At this I 
 inquired wherein. She stated*; and we referred the 
 question to the authorities, as she had a large collection 
 of our books. 
 
 They had invited the Baptist preacher, and several 
 other intelligent gentlemen, to dine with us on that day, 
 and while waiting for dinner tlie subject came up for 
 discussion, and the books were examined. All of them 
 agreed in saying that the first heaven, among the Jews, 
 meant the atmosphere, the elements of which would bo 
 melted at the burning up of the world. The second 
 means the starry heavens: and the third the paradise 
 of God. "Well," said I, "I must stand corrected, and 
 am glad to be so, for I had rather be put right, if in
 
 828 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 error, tlian to triumph in argument lor it." In this I 
 exj)re8Rc<l just wliaL wore my sentiments and feelinixs, 
 and wliat has governed mo througli life; and dropped 
 the subject to converse on something else, and, proba- 
 bly', sliould never liavc thought more of it than simply 
 the correction, had it not been U)V what followed, lint 
 the good man o< the house, brother Ji., showed uncom- 
 mon agitation of mind, and walked back and forth on 
 the floor, as if something fearful had occurred, and 1 in- 
 quired tor the cause of it. 
 
 '•Why," said he, '^ 1 did n't expect you to acknowl- 
 edge an error." 
 
 ''Why not? Is it not better to be corrected, if in 
 error, than to triumph in it?" 
 
 "Yes; but from what I had heard of you I did not 
 expect it; but I honor you the more for doing so." 
 
 The explanation amounted to this: Tlie ))reachcrs 
 generally stopped with him in passing tlirough the 
 place, and frequently I was the topic of conversation, 
 from all of which he had imbibed the idea that I was 
 "a hard case;" that I ruled v;ith a rod of iron ; that I 
 asked no advice, but formed m}- own opinions, and 
 when formed, I was as immovable as the hills; but of 
 •this he had now the best of evidence that I was exactly 
 the contiary. and he thought the better of me for it. 
 He further said that they all agreed that I could preach, 
 and for that he had asked the presiding elder to send 
 nio to the circuit, concluding to avoid any occasion for 
 the application of the iron rod. I could but feel afflicted, 
 but h't it pass us a ])art of my sorrows in this world. 
 
 On the whole it was a pleasant year; and we had 
 a respectable increase in the membership, and lell the 
 circuit ii» good order. 
 
 Our Conference ti)r 1827 wa.s held in Steubenville, 
 Ohio. Here our difficulties from Kadicalism began to 
 maki' trouble, as s(nne of our j)rominent preachers had
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 329 
 
 become involved in it. One of them, George Brown, 
 had as.sailed Bishop Hedding, in the -'Mutual Eights," 
 a paper printed in Baltimore, in the interest of that 
 heresy. With this there was great dissatisfaction, but 
 how deep or wide Ave had then no means of deciding. 
 Bishop George and the preachers were afraid to touch 
 it, lest in plucking out the tares, the wheat would also 
 be disturbed. It had been represented that a large ma- 
 jority of the Conference had become disaffected toward 
 the government of the Church, hence those fears. 
 
 Owing to these fears, the Bishoj), without the action 
 of the Conference, convened a committee, who compro- 
 mised the matter, and when Brown's name was called, 
 in the examination of character, it was reported that the 
 matter had been amicably settled. I was not satisfied, 
 for one, and rose to ask how it was settled; whether he 
 had recanted, etc.; but the frowns of the Bishop and 
 some of the fathers induced me to desist, not knowing 
 the strength of his party. I afterward learned that if I 
 had proceeded the majority would have sustained me, 
 though a storm would probably have been raised. But 
 Bishop Hedding was not satisfied, and at the ensuing 
 General Conference had Brown before the Episcopal 
 Committee, where he was compelled to back-water in 
 the case. 
 
 At this Conference delegates were elected to the 
 General Conference, to meet at Pittsburg in 1828, in 
 which the weakness of human nature was seen, even in 
 ministers of the Gospel. Those who desired an election 
 were careful to do or say nothing that would tend to 
 losing a vote. Some who were loyal to the Church, 
 were, nevertheless, afraid to bear upon Eadicalism, 
 though it was clearly ecclesiastical treason ; and those 
 who were tinctured with the moral disease became very 
 loyal ; hence the matter of Eadicalism was lightl}- passed 
 over, and some of its champions were elected to mis- 
 
 28
 
 830 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 represent the Conference in the great sanhedrim of the 
 Church. In nnollier year it would not liuve been so; 
 for by tlmt time the lines had been drawn, and many 
 who were on the fence got off upon the safe side, and 
 when the secession took place which grew out of it, but 
 tuMT — Shinn and Brown — went with and lu'adcd the 
 Radicals. 
 
 My appointment this year was in Beaver station. I 
 met with a cold reception, owing to the old stories al)out 
 my ruling with a rod of iron: but before a quarter had 
 passed away, all those fear.s had subsided, and we had a 
 gracious revival, and a pleasant and prosperous year. 
 
 In the course of the year a ver}' singular little re- 
 vival occurred near the Falls of Beaver. Two families 
 lived near each other; in one both parents were pious; 
 in the other the mother was, but the father was not, a 
 professor, though friendl3*to religion. Each family had 
 three girls, ranging from six to ten years of age; these 
 six girls were in the habit of playing together, as chil- 
 dren arc wont to do. On one occasion they were assem- 
 bled in a stack-yard, and a proposition was made to 
 "play prayer-meeting," to which all Jissented. and the 
 oldest in the family who had family worsh^ji, led in the 
 devotions, and some others jjrayed, using such words as 
 they had heard in the family and in prayer-meetings. 
 The remarkable part of this adventure was, that the 
 Good Spirit fell upon them, and all, at the same time, 
 began to feel that they were sinners, and to weep and 
 pray in earnest for mercy and salvation. Their cries 
 soon reached the ears of the mothers, who, fearing that 
 some sad accident had befallen them, ran to the place to 
 see what was the matter. Finding their chihlren in 
 earnest prayer for pardoning mercy, they joined with 
 them, and instructed thorn to believe that God, for the 
 sake of Christ, would pardon them. 
 
 The result was, the whole six wore happily converted
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 331 
 
 to Grod, and became as happy as little angels, and din- 
 ner was forgotten for some time. At length each mother 
 took her happy children home, with streaming e^^es and 
 glad hearts, clapping their little hands and praising- 
 God. 
 
 The non-praying father, fearing the children might 
 not understand what they were about, or might be 
 mocking such meetings, and not liking the idea, if it 
 was so, took his little six-year old on his knees, and 
 asked if they were sincere in Avhat they were doing? 
 
 '•What is that, pa? What does sincere mean?" 
 
 "Why, were you in earnest? Did 3'ou mean it, or 
 were you making mock of religion?" 
 
 •' O, no, pa; we were not making mock of it; we 
 would n't do such a thing. We are sincere, and in great 
 earnest, to be sure ;" and, throwing her arm about his 
 neck, said, " O, pa, it was a good time; I am so happy. 
 Pa, won't you get religion, too?" 
 
 This reached the father's heart. He could stand it 
 no longer. The little preacher in his arms did more, 
 under God, for him than all the divines he had ever 
 heard; and he bowed before God in prayei-, and soon 
 after found peace, and set up the famih' altar. It did 
 my soul good to receive this father and these six chil- 
 dren into the Church, and meet them in class. 
 
 Seeing the prevalence of heresy in the garb of Ee- 
 forWi alias, Eadicalism, I w^rote and published ''A Check 
 to Disaifection in the Methodist Episcopal Church." 
 But it was so mangled in the press that, whatever else 
 it might be worth, it fell, almost still-born, into forget- 
 fulness. 
 
 Our Conference (in 1828) met at the camp-ground, 
 in Salem, Mercer county, Penn., in the same society 
 out of which Bishop Eoberts went into the itinerancy, 
 and he presided in the Conference. The sessions were 
 held in the new^ church near the campground; the
 
 832 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 gallery of whicli was tilled with beds tor lodging tho 
 preachers. Most of the preachers boarded in tiie tcnUj, 
 though soint' of them went to neighboring houses. 
 
 Tiie reguhir services on tho ground were kej»t up 
 day anil night lor a week, a portion of tlie preachrrs 
 being detailed daily to conduct them ; and when not 
 in session, or on committee, all the preachers were 
 present. 
 
 The encamj>ment and concourse of peoj)le were wiy 
 large. To Bishop Roberts more than to any other one, 
 this was an interesting scene. Here was the society 
 from which he started out to preach the Gospel twenty- 
 si.v years before. Hero were many of his old class- 
 mate.«*, his brothers, .sisters, and old neighbors, and their 
 children an<l grandchildren, all of whom loved and 
 respected him when among them, and huiKjred iiim in 
 his ofliee. and felt honored by his having gone out from 
 among them to bless the Church and the world with 
 his distinguished services. It was in the same grove, 
 and but a few rods from the spot where he, with 
 others, spent their first night in the country, and, as 
 Klliott says, supperless, because young IJoberts fell 
 asleep and sutfered the squirrel to burn up. Now to 
 see and preside over an Annual Conference on that 
 ground, and see and meet the th«)usands of our Israel, 
 and worship God together, was most grateful to his 
 heart, and not less so to the pioneers who came to the 
 countiy with him. Nor did the outsiders cscai)e the 
 excitement and exultation that seemed to be conta- 
 gious among the people, to meet and see f.o distin- 
 guished a liishoj) whom (iod had raised and taken 
 from among them. 
 
 Holding a Conference in the woods was an experi- 
 ment; and though many souls were converte<l, and the 
 whole scene nuule a very favorable impression on the 
 publi'- mind, yel, both preachers and people seemed to
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 333 
 
 get weary of a week's encampment. The attention of 
 all was so divided between the camp and the Confei-- 
 ence, as to mar the enjoyment of both. The opinion 
 seemed to prevail that the two together did not work 
 so well as either would in a separate form. 
 
 At this Conference my name was placed at the head 
 of a district, and so stood till the last night of the coun- 
 cil, when it was changed to gratify one man. He was 
 older than myself, but younger in the ministry; and 
 said that he would not ride under me, but would ride 
 over me. His object was to get the office himself But 
 no one except himself deemed him qualified for it; yet, 
 to avoid a muss with him the change was made. 
 
 It struck me forcibly that such a spirit was not that 
 of Christ nor his Gospel, and that probably he would 
 not be long in the way; and so it turned out, for in 
 less than lour years he was in his grave, having died 
 under circumstances which cast a shade of doubt over 
 his future prospects. "If any man have not the spirit 
 of Christ he is none of his."' 
 
 At the moment of the change, the appointments had 
 all been made, and to change any one, almost, would 
 start a change generally, or over a considerable extent 
 of the Conference. There was, however, one important 
 place yet to be supplied, the second station in the Con- 
 ference, Washington, Penn., and to that my name was 
 affixed, though it was ninety miles from home, with no 
 prospect of moving my family to it; and thus it was 
 read out. 
 
 This station had been filled for two years previous 
 by Asa Shinn, the Bartimeus or champion of Radical- 
 ism. But as he was deranged, by or in consequence of 
 his Eadicalism, and sent to an Asylum, the place had 
 been vacant for several months. It was supposed that 
 he had affected the Church in the place by the poison 
 of his heresy, and one object, and probably the chief
 
 334 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 one, in my appointment, was to save the Church from 
 Becession. Shinn had labored harder to divide or carry 
 off part or all of the Church than he had to save souls. 
 I learned that not one solitary conversion had occurred 
 in the two years of his ministry in the place; and he 
 had succeeded so that one-half of the leaders, and 
 about half of the one hundred and fifty members I 
 found there, were tinctured more or less with the istn. 
 
 The place was ninety miles from home, and I should 
 not probably remain here more than one year, and this 
 year was one of only eleven months. To break u]> and 
 move my family, therefore, would cost more than I 
 should probably receive, and especially if a secession 
 occurred. On consultation Avith nn- wife, it was a^jreed 
 that she and the family should remain on the farm, and 
 I would visit them as often as I could, which proved to 
 be only three times till after the next Conference. 
 
 When I reached Washington, all things looked cool 
 and forbidding. I learned that the reason for this was, 
 the old stories of the iron rod. When the preachers 
 returned from Conference, to and through that region, 
 of course they were asked who was to be their 
 preacher. 
 
 '' Why, Brunson." 
 
 ''What is he? old side or new?" 
 
 'sStit!' old side." 
 
 "Well, what kind of a man is he?" 
 
 "Why. whatever don't bend before him must break. 
 He ruh's with a ro<l of iron." 
 
 "Then," said the l\adicals, "we are done for." And 
 one of them was said to have run himself out of breath 
 to inform the otlurs. all of whom were said to have 
 had a geneial lamentation. One of them informed me 
 afYei-ward, that he wept at the gloomy prospects before 
 them. 
 
 On the other hand the loyal men, called the old
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 335 
 
 side, felt about as bad, expecting, from what they had 
 heard, that I would tear every thing to pieces, by 
 attempting to coerce the Eadicals into quietude and 
 obedience. Thus between the two I met with a cool 
 reception. But being used to such things, now, after 
 years of experience, and having invariably seen a 
 change and cui'e, I began by this time to care less 
 about it, expecting the reaction would operate in my 
 favor. 
 
 I reached town on Saturday, preached on Sunday, 
 twice, and called the leaders and stewards together on 
 Monday night. After the usual business of the leaders' 
 meeting was through, I said, "Brethren, I have under- 
 stood that there is considerable uneasiness among you, 
 as to the course I shall pursue. You have heard what 
 is not true of me, and after proving to the contrary 
 in every charge I have ever been in, I can but feel 
 afflicted that my brethren in the ministry should still 
 believe and reiterate that old slander, to my prejudice, 
 and to the injury of my usefulness. 
 
 'I shall do by you as I have by all others over 
 whom 1 have had charge. I never quarrel with any 
 one about his private opinion. If you, or any of you, 
 think a change in our economy would be for the bet- 
 ter, you can think so, only that while you claim the 
 right to think for yourselves, you allow others the 
 same right. 
 
 "I take the Bible and the Discipline for my guide; 
 and while you remain in the Church, though you may 
 think some things amendable, 3'et I shall expect you to 
 abide by the rules as they are, till they are amended 
 if that should ever be. When 3'ou think you can 't do 
 this any longei', why, just peaceablj' retire, and we 
 shall not quarrel about it." 
 
 "O," said they, '-if that is all, we are content; we 
 intend to abide by the rules while we remain in the
 
 336 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Church, and wc have no desire or design 1<» I. mv.. W at 
 present, if wo ever do." 
 
 I further stated to them that it was my business to 
 save souls, and I had asked the Lord to give me one 
 hundred this year, and I hoped they would co-operato 
 with me in the work. 
 
 At this their countenances briglitened up; tliey 
 looked much more cheerful and hopeful, and agreed to 
 board me and my horse, and pay me S200, which they 
 did, besides making me several respectable presents. 
 But with regard to a revival they had no faith. They 
 had not been thus favored in seven years. They had 
 had, they thought, more talented and popular preachers 
 than I was, and without revivals, and were incredulous 
 as to one now. I reminded them that God had not 
 chosen the great and mighty, but the weak things of 
 this world to confound the wise; and that it was '-not 
 by might, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord," that I ex- 
 pected success. I was aware that a good revival was the 
 best cure for Eadicalism that could be found, and sought 
 this as the only remedy in this case. Thank Ciod, I 
 was not disappointed. 
 
 In October 1 attended a camp-meeting at Castleman's 
 Run, near Wellsburg, Virginia. The days were very 
 cool, and the nights frosty. The cold seemed to affect 
 the soul through its influence on the body. Wo 
 preachers finding our weapons dull, put to the more 
 strcDglh, but with no eft'ect. We etfected nothing in the 
 way of revival on the grounrl ; but I went back to my 
 station with a burden and travail of soul upon mo, that 
 I seldom ever felt before or since. I con\menced a series 
 of awakening discourses, which followed each other, 
 link after link, each one apparently a little harder than 
 its predecessor, and I perceived a yielding in the moral 
 atmosphere, indicative of good. 
 
 Tiiere was a negro in the jail under sentence of
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 337 
 
 death for killing bis master, on his way from Maryland 
 to Nevr Orleans, while within this county. His story 
 was that he was a free man, and had been kidnapped, and 
 he sought his liberty, the gift of nature. The two hap- 
 pened to be alone on the National road when the deed 
 was done, and they were sufficiently distant from any 
 house, it being before day, in the morning, for hira to 
 have hid his victim, and made his escape; but instead 
 of that he foolishly exposed himself, and was detected 
 and convicted. 
 
 I visited him repeatedly in his prison, but could do 
 nothing with him. I became satisfied that he had done 
 worse than the killing of his kidnapper. Until I made 
 this discover}' I felt a sympathy for him ; but on this 
 discovery I left him to his doom. He was impenitent, 
 hardened, and refused to confess the killing, alleging 
 that he had taken an oath not to confess, and if he 
 should confess he had more that was worse to confess, 
 and therefore would not begin. 
 
 On the scaffold, after prayer, he desired me to state 
 to the thousands of people present what I thought of liis 
 case, and I could do no less than reiterate the above 
 sentiments. I abhorred slavery, yet, while the Ian- 
 recognized it, we must submit to it. The taking of life, 
 though it was to obtain freedom, was punishable by the 
 laws, and must be submitted to, however reluctantly. 
 
 The day of the execution was early in IS^ovember. 
 It was very rainy, and the streets, though paved, were 
 very muddy, yet thousands of women and children 
 were tramping through it to see a poor ignorant sinner 
 hujig. Perhaps all had seen people die, but the novelty 
 of seeing one hung, or die in this way, drew out, it 
 Avas supposed, ten thousand people, and at least one 
 thousand of them were the worse for liquor. 
 
 This evidence of the depravity of human nature 
 seemed to have a powerful effect upon the moral sensi- 
 
 29
 
 338 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 bilities of the community, and taking advantage of this 
 in tlie pulpit, it was made by the providence of God 
 Bubservicnt to the awakening of Binnei-s. 
 
 Tlic night after tlie execution we liad a prayer- 
 meeting in a large private room, which was crowded to 
 inconvenience. I discovered that some were penitent; 
 but there had not been a mourner invited up for 
 prayers in tlie town for seven years, and it was doubt- 
 ful whether it would succeed, if attempted. Tlie 
 i-oom was so crowded that they could not pass from one 
 part of it to another without going over the heads of 
 others. In tliis state of the case, the next best thing I 
 could do was to invite those who were resolved to seek 
 salvation, to kneel by their seats, and the brethren and 
 sisters next to them would talk to and pray for them. 
 Eight arose and kneeled for prayers. 
 
 This moved our old members something as an 
 earthquake would. The brethren and sisters talked 
 and prayed with unwonted power. But this was in a 
 private house. It was feared that the incubus of 
 respectability would prevent the like operation in the 
 Church, but we soon broke over that, and the altar was 
 crowded with penitents. 
 
 At the first Ciuirch meeting after the revival com 
 menced, I received two into membership, when a 
 humorous old brother said, "Now 3-ou have got ninety- 
 eight to get." The next Sabbath I received nine. 
 ''Now," said he, "you have got eighty-nine to get." 
 The following Sabbath I received twent3'-nine, when 
 they stopped counting for me. In six weeks I received 
 one hundred and thirt}', and after all the deaths, re- 
 movals, and sifting we had one hundred and two net 
 increase. Two of them being emigrants to the place, 
 left ine just one hundred inci-ease. 
 
 We had no extra meetings. On Sabbath 1 preaclied 
 twice, following the evening services with a prayer- 
 
 I
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 339 
 
 meeting; Tuesday night a prayer-meeting, and Thur.s- 
 dny niglit preacliing and prayer-meeting. These two 
 weekly meetings were the regular appointments of 
 years' standing. The dasses met at their regular 
 stated times, mostly on week-days or evenings. 
 
 The work was unlike any I ever saw before. It did 
 not begin in the Church, but outside of it, and bringing 
 in the young converts, all ablaze of divine love, it set 
 fire to the old members as a fresh fire would to old 
 extinguished or half-extinguished fire-brands. I found 
 the Church, when I came to it, doting upon their 
 respectability, to which they were justly entitled, for no 
 Church in the town could boast of a more orderly and 
 respectable membership. But this, of itself, was not 
 enough ; they needed the holy fire in their souls to pro- 
 mote revivals. 
 
 Those who were tinctured with Eadicalism stood 
 aloof for a while, and said I was getting up an excite- 
 ment to kill off Eadicalism, tacitly acknowledging that 
 that ism and revivals did not harmonize. It was true 
 that I knew a good revival would be death to that ism ; 
 and while, in part, that was mj^ aim, j'et I had a higher 
 object in view, which was to save souls ; but if I could 
 kill two birds with one stone so much the better. 
 
 The work was mostly among young people, having 
 a large share of young men, all of whom I advised 
 from the pulpit to attend class, even before they joined 
 the Church, and told them where and when the classes 
 met. We had one class of young men which was led 
 by a Eadical, and met at sunrise on Sunday mornings. 
 The leader, on going to his class-room one morning, 
 found it crowded with young converts, who were all on 
 fire. They knew nothing of Eadicalism, nor of its cold- 
 ness and dead formality; nor yet of the leader's 
 previous views and remarks about the excitement, but 
 supposed that all who professed religion must feel as
 
 840 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 l)ap))v ami lively as tliey did, and related llieir HiaUi of 
 miiul as young converts are wont to do. Under this 
 ui»e.Xj>ected tire the leader eauo^lit the flame, ami ran 
 home to tell his venerable mother wliat he had seen, 
 and how ho felt, assuring iter it was in reality the work 
 of God. This started the old lady, wl)o was reba|>tized 
 from above, and became as active in the meetings as a 
 girl of sixteen. Both were effectually cured of their 
 notions of reform in the Church. This was but a 
 specimen of other cases, so that when the Kadical 
 preachers came to organize, as they supposed, fully one- 
 lialf of the Church under their standard, they could tintl 
 only six who would go with them, of two hundred and 
 fifty members. 
 
 One wicked rum -seller tuhl a i)i()us sister that *' they 
 are making Methodists down at the Church as fast 
 as you could run bullets." Another, whose appieiitice 
 was among the converts, said to a leader, "It you will 
 keep him in the good way six months I'll give you five 
 dollars." At the end of six months '-Andy" was still 
 on his way to heaven, and the boss paid the five dollars. 
 
 In the midst of the work Asa Shinii had recovered 
 his reason, ami came out of the Asylum, whither Radi- 
 calism had <lriven hinj, and came to visit his friends 
 in Washington. To gratify them in ]);iit. and ])arlly 
 from the courtesy due to him as an old minister, 1 
 invited him to jireach. He declined doing so in the 
 morning, l)ut consented to do so at night. 
 
 In the time of his insanity he was said to have 
 been both j»rofane and obscene, all of which he re- 
 menjbered, singular as it might seem, after recovei'ing 
 his reason, and thought he was responsible to (iod for 
 it. Under this vit'W he wa>< very ])enitent. and was 
 praying for ))ai(l<)n. His text was, "Is there no halm 
 in (Jilead? Is there no ]»hysieian there? Why, then, 
 is not the h«'altli of I In- daut^htcr of my people re-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 341 
 
 covered?" This he applied to himself, for he said he 
 had entirely backslid in his radical movements, and if 
 he got restored to the peace and favor of God, he 
 would have no more to do with that ism. 
 
 After he preached I exhorted and invited the peni- 
 tents to come forward for j^rayers, and the altar was 
 soon filled. I asked him to pray for them, but lie only 
 prayed for himself, as if he was the greatest, if not the 
 only sinner at the altar. He professed to find peace, 
 but strange to tell, in two weeks from that time he 
 was on his way to Cincinnati to preach for the seced- 
 ing Eadicals. 
 
 Early in the revival we had a love-feast, and I is- 
 sued one hundred and thirty-two notes of admittance 
 to persons who professed to be seeking religion, many 
 of whom were converted, but not all. 
 
 Near the close of the revival we had another love- 
 feast, which exceeded any thing I ever witnessed for 
 the manifestations of the Divine presence and power. 
 Afler the usual time spent in speaking, I invited peni- 
 tents to the altar. Some came. I„then invited all the 
 young converts who desired a renewal of the evidence 
 of their acceptance with God, and a general rush en- 
 sued ; the altar being full, and the front seats being full, 
 I told them to occupy the seats next, when half of the 
 seats in the body of the house were thus approi^riated. 
 
 I then directed all to kneel and pray in secret for 
 a few minutes. In a moment a general whispering 
 was heard, which soon rose to a general murmuring 
 noise, unlike any thing I ever heard, when I called on 
 a brother who was in the midst of them to pray. He 
 raised up his head and began, but he had not uttered 
 a dozen words before the noise amounted to a roar, 
 very much resembling " a mighty rushing wind," and 
 he stopped, as he could not be heard five feet from 
 him.
 
 3'(2 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 The noise grew louder and louder till it became 
 deafening, and one after another rose, not with boiH- 
 torous shouts, for no one spoke above his or her natu- 
 ral voice, but all had the same to tell, and that was, 
 " O, I am BO happy; O, I am so happy!" and without 
 any direction or design, the young men drew out from 
 the seats into the aisle on their side of the house, and 
 gathered round each other, the tallest in the center, then 
 the next tallest, and so on till the shortest were on the 
 outside, forming a human pyramid, and swinging back 
 and forth, all saying, ''O, I'm so happy; O, I'm so 
 happy!" 
 
 In the mean time the young sisters got into a simi- 
 lar pyramid on their side of the house, their bonnets 
 and combs being piled up in the windows by the elder 
 sisters — the house being built of brick the window-sills 
 were wide — their long hair was flowing and swinging 
 with their gentle swinging motion, and all were ex- 
 claiming, "O, I 'm so happy; O, I'm so happy!" 
 
 The old membere stood amazed, though they felt ex- 
 ceedingly happy in themselves, yet not having ever 
 seen any thing like it before, the}' stood ama/.eil. One, 
 an Irish leader, came to me as I stood in the altar 
 drinking deep in the joy and happiness of the occa- 
 sion, and said to me, " O, brother, won 't they hurt 
 themselves ?" 
 
 " No ; it is God's work, and he never hurt any one. 
 1 never knew one to be hurt by such exercises." 
 
 'O, but I never see the like of it in my life, neither 
 here nor in my own country. I'm afraid tlu-y "II hurt 
 themselves." 
 
 "Then* is no danger, l)ro(lu'r, ihe Spirit of (lod is 
 at work, the Holy Ghost has descended and fallen upon 
 us like a rushing mighty wind." 
 
 "Well, it seems to be so. lUit I'm afraid they'll 
 hurt themselves."
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 343 
 
 To please him and allay his fears, I attempted to 
 speak from the altar, and requested them, if they could, 
 without marring their own enjoyment, or grieving the 
 Spirit, to hold in a little. But though I could cover 
 ten thousand people with my voice, in the open air, I 
 could not be heard twenty feet from me, and I desisted. 
 
 I then went to the young men and said, " I am glad 
 to see you so happy, but if you can, without grieving 
 the Spirit, I would rather not have quite so much 
 noise." Those next to me threw their arms round me, 
 and I had to swing with them. I could no more stop 
 or check their motion than I could that of the wind. I 
 was as powerless when clasped by them, and thus at- 
 tached to the pyramid, as an infant, and they appeared 
 not to hear me, but continued their exclamation, "0, 
 I 'm so happy!" 
 
 Finding I could do nothing there, I by hard pulling 
 got clear of their grasp, and went to the young sisters 
 with the same request. But with no other result; 
 they, also, reiterating the same words,' "O, I'm so 
 happy!" From this I returned to the altar, and taking 
 my seat, contemplated the scene before me. I was as 
 certain as of my existence that there was more noise in 
 the house than was made by the voices of the people. 
 For no one spoke loud ; there was no shouting, no 
 jumping, nor ranting. Every motion was gentle and 
 slow, and I could see nothing in the gestures or voices 
 of those present, to cause such a deafening roar, so much 
 resembling that of a very high wind, or the roaring of 
 mighty waters over a cataract. 
 
 My Irish leader could not keep his school the next 
 day, he was so amazed and so fearful that the j^oung 
 converts, and especially the young sisters, had injured 
 their health by their exercises the night before, and he 
 went from house to house where any of them lived, 
 and found all in good health and spirits, never so well,
 
 844 A WESTERN PIONEKK. 
 
 and never so lia]ti\v in all their lives. He liicn camo 
 to mo to report tlie result of iiis iiMiuiries. and express 
 his gratitufie to God for the wonderful di.s}ilay of his 
 savini? power and grace. 
 
 As the revival was slackening, and mourners ceased 
 to come forward, thoui^h the same means were still in 
 use, some who were faithless when I first spoke of the 
 hun<lrcd souls for which I had asked the good Lord, 
 now began to wonder why I did not ask foi- two hun- 
 dred, or five hundred. I replied that I asked for as 
 man}' as I had faith for. The fact was, when at prayer 
 for success in my new chari^a', I felt an impression from 
 the J>ivine Spirit that (iod would give me one hundre<l 
 souls that year, and I asked him to do so. 
 
 In February, 1829, General Andrew Jackson, who 
 liad been elected President oi' the United States, on his 
 way from Tennessee to Washington City, to take his 
 seat on the 4th of March ensuing, came through Wash- 
 ington, Penn., and spent a Sabbath there. The Pres- 
 byterians and the Methodists were the two most promi- 
 nent denominations in the place, and in each Church 
 the President-elect had admirers and opponents. His 
 admirers, of course, ])aid their i-espects to him, and in- 
 vited him to attend worshi)) at their respective churches. 
 To gratify both as much as ])ossible. ho attended wor- 
 shi)) at the Presbyterian chui'ch in the morning, an«l at 
 the Methodist at night. 
 
 The great parade, and cavaleade escort he received 
 into town, on Saturday, made me think of man-worship. 
 Nor was it less visible at church, for when he came to 
 the door some of our prominent brethren, who had 
 voted for liim, met him, anci escorted him to the altar, 
 and seated him in an eas^- chair inside of the railing, 
 with Judge Hahlwin, who accompanied him, by his side. 
 The house was crowded, of course, by many who never 
 attended at other times.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 345 
 
 I had engaged a visiting brother to preach for me 
 that night, but he declined when he found the old Gen- 
 eral was to attend, and left it to me. My text was, 
 "iS'ow then we are embassadors for Christ, as though 
 God did beseech you by us; we pray 3'ou in Christ's 
 stead, be ye reconciled to God." I made no allusions to 
 him, nor any apologies, but preached as if he had not 
 been there; indeed, I preached to him as I would to 
 any other sinner. As I came down out of the pulpit, 
 after the benediction. Judge Baldwin tendered me the 
 General's thanks "for my excellent and appropriate dis- 
 course." Such thanks are matters of course, whether 
 he liked it or not. 
 
 The next day, being the 23d, I started to visit my 
 family. The weather was soft, the snow melting, and 
 the roads bad. About noon the weather suddenly 
 changed to severe cold, and the wet snow and mud that 
 splashed on to my horse's legs froze thereto. In a 
 short time they were so incumbered and benumbed that 
 it was difficult for him to travel, and he stumbled and 
 fell, throwing me off on the down-hill side. 
 
 In the fall my saddle-bUgs fell over on to me, and 
 the loop through which the stirrup-leather passed 
 caught over ni}^ spur, and held my foot fast in the stir- 
 rup. The horse struggled, and attempted to rise; if he 
 had done so I should have been heels upward, and if he 
 had struggled aj^d floundered, or taken fright and run, I 
 should have been killed ; but he obeyed my gentle and 
 sootliing "whoa," and lay still till I got my foot clear 
 from the stirrup, when, at my bidding, he rose, and I 
 again mounted him. 
 
 I reached the Ohio Eiver at Georgetown, fort}' miles, 
 but at too late an hour to cross that night, and the next 
 morning the river, up which General Jackson and suite 
 sailed but three days before, was now full of running 
 ice. It was late in the day, and at the risk of life at
 
 846 A WESTERN PIONKKR. 
 
 that, before I could reach the other shore; but once 
 over I reached home in safety, to nUiy a week, after an 
 absence of three months. 
 
 In tlie course of tliis 3'ear I married W. Lon^, one 
 of my leaders, to his amiable and j)iuu.s wife, the oldest 
 issuo of which marriage was afterward n missionary in 
 Bulgaria. The father ha.s, for many years, been a wor- 
 thy member of the Pittsburg Confeience. Out of that 
 revival, I have been informed, some six or eight prcach- 
 ei*8, traveling and local, have honored the Church and 
 blessed the world. 
 
 The year, on the whole, wa.s a ver}' pleasant one, 
 except the long absence from home. When, as is usual 
 at the close of the year, the question came up as to my 
 return for a second term, those who were so frightened 
 at my coining now desired my return. They said if I 
 M'as the hardest "old side" case in the Conference, they 
 saw no necessity for a " reform," to get rid of tyranny in 
 the government of the Church. 
 
 While in Washington, as I have stated, I succeeded 
 Asa Shinn, the champion <.>f liadicalism. In the Gen- 
 eral Conference of 1828, wh^n the able and unanswer- 
 able report of Doctor (afterward Bishop) Emory was 
 presented, in which Badicalism received a quietus, Shinn 
 moved for its adoption, and the printing of five thou- 
 sand copies for gratuitous circulation. This motion was 
 regarded a most singular one, and borq.thaL cognomen 
 as long as it was remembered. 
 
 Alter Shinn went to Cincinnati, as heretofore stinted, 
 and took charge of the secessionists there, he came out 
 with a pamphlet defense of his "singular motion," in 
 Avhich he atteinpted to justify it, by saying that he 
 wanted to get it into print that he miirht refute it, and 
 attempted its refutation. 
 
 This defense 1 reviewed in the *• Itinerant, a semi- 
 monthly journal, edited, in part, by Dr. T. PI Bond, in
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 347 
 
 Baltimore, over the signature of "Silas Hopewell." I 
 also wrote several other articles for the same paper, in 
 opposition to Eadicalism. 
 
 The ''Itinerant" came to Washington, of course, and 
 those tinctured with Eadicalism read the review, and 
 the other articles, but could not imagine who "Silas 
 Hopewell " was. At length one article contained an 
 allusion to some facta having a local bearing, when a 
 suspicion rose that the veritable "Silas Hopewell " must 
 live in or near that place. Charles (now Dr.) Cook, of 
 the Pittsburg (now Philadelphia) Conference, who had 
 been upon the fence on this Eadical question, undertook 
 to ferret out the writer. He came to my room, and so 
 questioned me that I was obliged to "own up," or deny 
 the truth ; the latter I would not do, and, of course, con- 
 fessed the authorshi]). He made no objections, nor at- 
 tempted any reply to my arguments; but as soon as the 
 mail could convey the intelligence, either from him or 
 some one to whom he told the wonderful discovery, 
 to George Brown, he published it in the "Mutual 
 Eights," with, apparently, as much rejoicing as if he had 
 discovered a rich mine, or great fortune; just as if the 
 name of the writer made any difference in the force of 
 the argument. 
 
 The Pittsburg Conference for 1829 met in Wheel- 
 ing. Ya. For some years the sitting of Conference 
 with closed doors had been laid aside, and friend and 
 foe had been permitted to listen to our discussions. 
 But an occurrence at this Conference brought up the 
 question of returning to the ancient usage in the mat- 
 ter, and admit none but members, not even probation- 
 ers, local preachers, or lay members. The case alluded 
 to was this: A boatman on the Ohio Eiver who made 
 a short stop at the landing, and hearing that the Meth- 
 odist Conference was in session, thought he would take 
 a look at the black coats.
 
 848 A WESTERN PIONEER, 
 
 Tho 8iibject upon tlie tapis wlion he came, and to 
 which lie listened |K}rhap8 five or ten minutes, wa.s an 
 objection to a preacher who was a great horse-trader, 
 as hoini^ deroixatory to the cliaracter of a minister of 
 tho Gospel. The boatman, on returning to his boat, 
 was asked what they were doing at the Conference. 
 
 '•()," said lie, ''they are trying a ju'eacher." 
 
 'What is the charge against him?' 
 
 "O, I dont know, I believe it's a woman scrape." 
 
 This reaching the ear of some sensitive old brother, 
 he moved to sit with closed doors. The motion met 
 with strong opposition, and was modified so as to admit 
 probationers, local preachers, and lay members, but to 
 exchwle :dl who '^vere not members of the Church, of 
 some grade. This carried, and for one day was ob- 
 served, when it was discovered that we had friends 
 who were not members, and yet took great interest in 
 our atfairs, who, under the rule, must be excluded. 
 This was doing a greater evil to guard against a less 
 on*', whicli would probably not occur once in an age — 
 a misi-epresentati<m of such a foolish and glaring char- 
 acter, as to refute itself, and the rule was (lr()})}>ed, and 
 became a dead letter on the record. 
 
 On the Sunday of this Conference, it fell to me to 
 preMch in the l^rotestant Episcopal Church, the jmstor 
 of wiii< h w:is what is called Low Church, or who bo- 
 lievi'd :ind taught experimental religion; and to aid 
 him, I piTached u])on, and ex])lained the doctrine of 
 justification by faith and the witness of the 8|)irit, 
 which seemed to be relished much by both the j^astor 
 and his Hock.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 349 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 AT the Wheeling Conference (1829) I was appointed 
 to l^ew Lisbon circuit, to follow George Brown, 
 who was another champion of Eadicalism, and had 
 tried to carry off the whole circuit, containing seven or 
 eight hundred members with him, when he seceded. 
 W. C. Henderson, a valuable brother, was my colleague, 
 and truly a helpmate. 
 
 Our circuit lay in Columbiana county, Ohio, having 
 one or two appointments in the edge of Pennsylvania, 
 near Grreensburg, now Darlington. Brown had, at one 
 time, got the whole circuit to secede with him and join 
 the Eadicals. But the women were said to be the first 
 to awake, and roused up the men to inquire what they 
 had been doing. The result was they disannulled what 
 they had done, and remained in the Church. Brown 
 then tried his skill on the principal society which was 
 in New Lisbon, seventy or eighty strong, and succeeded 
 in getting them to agree to go, and left the circuit in 
 this plight. 
 
 The same old and stale stories of "the rod of iron" 
 preceded me here, and the people expected a regu- 
 lar war, a hand-to-hand combat; and if the Eadical 
 preachers had just then come on, probably they would 
 have succeeded in getting the most if not all of this 
 large society. But instead of its being an injury to 
 me and our cause, the reaction worked for our good ; 
 for they got to see that if I was the hardest case in 
 the Conference, they hud nothing to fear from the 
 oppressions or tyrannies of the preachers. 
 
 In their agreement to go, they had forgotten to 
 withdraw from the Church, and I found their names
 
 850 A WKSTLKN PIONEER. 
 
 on the Cliurcli n-cords a8 yet in the member8hi|). I 
 reminded tlieni of this forgetful news, and told ihein that 
 J Bhould tlirow my arms around them, and act as their 
 pastor, till such times as they reguhirly withdrew; but 
 advised them to look before they took a leap in the 
 dark. If they really wished to go from us, they could 
 do so; there was no compulsion; they eame in volun- 
 tarily, and they remained in on the same j)rineiple. 
 And they eonelnde<l to remain awhile and see how 
 things would work. 
 
 There is and can be nothing meaner and more con- 
 temptible, than for men to eat the bread of the Church, 
 and be clothed by her generosity, and then use the 
 strength derived therefrom, and also the influence of 
 the position she gave them to corru])t, pervert, and 
 ruin the very Church that did this. It is exactly in 
 keeping with the course pursued by the leaders in the 
 present pro-shivery rebellion in the Southern States. 
 But bad, nay, as horrible as it is, the charge justly lies 
 at the door of the said George Brown in this circuit. 
 
 The Church in New Lisbon was properly secured to 
 the Methodist Episcopal Church, and of course could 
 not be taken if they went from us. The seating had 
 not 3'et been done ; only loose boards to sit upon. I 
 proposed to have it finished, and called a meeting of 
 the trustees to make arrangements for it. This brought 
 matters to a crisis. They must now go, or stay. If 
 tlu V wtiit, tlu'V could not be trustees nor act as such, 
 and would not give their money to finish the house, 
 and then leave it. 
 
 They gave me no decisive or positive answer, and 
 I left them to consider. After I letl they consulted 
 togfther. One said, "I have always understood that 
 lirunsoii is tlie hardest case in the Confennce; the 
 btitVest 'old-side' stickler, and that he rules with a rod 
 of iron, and whatever do n i bend bctbre him must break ;
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 351 
 
 but if Ilia course among us so far is a specimen of the 
 tyrann}' we have heard so much about — and we know 
 that he was sent iiere to cure us of Radicalism, or put us 
 out of the Church— I for one am not going to leave." 
 " Nor I, nor I," went round the meeting, and before I got 
 round {igain they had commenced to finish the church 
 
 And when C. Springer came on to take charge of 
 what he supposed, from the representations made by 
 Brown, was one of their best stations, they promptly 
 told him they should not leave their mother to go with 
 strangers of whom they knew nothing ; and he suc- 
 ceeded in getting onh* three on the whole circuit, of 
 near eight hundred members, and they had neither 
 money nor influence, and were never more looked after, 
 at least while 1 was in that region, which was several 
 years, off and on. 
 
 In New Lisbon were then about twent3'-five hun- 
 dred souls, and a Campbellite preacher by the name of 
 Scott, commonly called " Campbell's recruiting Ser- 
 geant," from his activit}' and success in ^proselyting 
 people to a water mode of salvation. He taught school 
 for a living, and preached on Sundays. He was one 
 of those harum-scarum kind of men, who are reckless, 
 daring, and browbeating in manner and habit, and a 
 kind of dare-devil. 
 
 He was in the habit of challenging all who dis- 
 sented from his views, and doing it, too, in such a 
 braggadocio style that no one had dared to accept his 
 challenge. It was said that one Methodist preacher 
 had determined to accept the challenge and meet him, 
 and went to his meeting to do so; but on the way met 
 a Presbyterian minister, who persuaded him not to do 
 it. Both, however, went to hear Scott, who challenged 
 them both, or either of them, before the audience, but 
 neither accepted it. This course of events seemed to 
 impress the public mind with the idea that Scott must
 
 352 A WESTKRN PIONEFR. 
 
 have tlic host of tlie art^iimcut, or surely some one 
 would nuH't and refute him. 
 
 I had never como in contact witli tlio Cam))hcHites 
 directly, though tliey were flourishing coi»»iderahly 
 within tlie range of my truvels, and I had met Camp- 
 bell himself once or twice. M}' views were to live ami 
 let live; to allow cithers the same rights and privileges 
 of worship that I claimed for myself. So, in reference 
 to that peo])le, I adopted the advice of Gamaliel to the 
 Jewish Sanhedrim, to let them alone. If the work was 
 of God, I knew that I could not overthrow it, and if it 
 was of nian — which I believed to be the case — it would 
 come to naught of itsell". 
 
 But a local preacher of my charge, who was raised 
 a Quaker, had no definite ideas of baptism. He re- 
 ceived that ordinance by effusion on coming into the 
 Church, because it was our rule; but had never in- 
 quired into the subject, as to its nature, design, mode, 
 or the subjects of it, and hearing so much said about it 
 by the Campbellites, as if it was the onl}' way to heaven, 
 he became somewhat interested in the matter, and de- 
 sired Scott to preach on the subject; which he did on 
 u Sunday night when I was in town. lie gave notice 
 at his morning service of the intended discourse, and 
 that it was at the request of a Methodist preacher, 
 whom he exj)ected to baptize — meaning by immersion — 
 that night. 
 
 This, of course, drew out a crowd, and I among the 
 rest, for I thought if he was thus encroaching upon my 
 charge, it was time for me to stand on the detensive. 
 I took notes of the discourse, and gave out that I 
 would re])l3' to it when I came round again in four 
 weeks. He did not, however, baptize the preacher that 
 night. 
 
 There were but very few who took any notice of me 
 or my appointment. The fact was Scott had bragged
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 353 
 
 and browbeat every bodj- so unmercifully upon the sub- 
 ject, thnt not onl}' tlie public, but our membership 
 generally, thought it would be dangerous for a man to 
 fall into his hands. And my principal steward was so 
 sure that I should fall before this Goliah, that he 
 objected to my repl3'ing to him, alleging that there had 
 been as able, and, as he thought, abler men of our and 
 other Churches there, than I was, who dared not grap- 
 ple with him, and he thought it temerity in me to do 
 so; and when the time came for me to preach it, he 
 found an excuse to stay at home, rather than suffer the 
 mortification of seeing me floored by my antagonist. 
 
 When the time came round, I gave out at the 
 morning service that I should reply to Scott at three 
 o'clock that afternoon. But the congregation was small. 
 The Methodists were not all out, nor many outsiders, 
 and but few Campbellites. 
 
 The common burden of discourse with the immer- 
 sionists is, '• one faith, one baptism^'' and I began by 
 declaring that the Scriptures taught and recognized 
 seven kinds of baptism, 'and said, -'If I do not prove it, 
 book, chapter, and verse, you may brand me for a 
 novice." Their strong ground lay in the idea of there 
 being but one baptism, which they applied to the mode ; 
 and if I could prove more than one, it would knock 
 their foundation out, and their building must fall. As 
 a consequence all eyes were fixed upon me, and every 
 ear was open to hear what I said. 
 
 By the time I had proved three of them, I could 
 feel in the moral atmosphere of the house that the 
 congregation, generally, yielded assent to my position ; 
 that the Campbellites who were present, cowered and 
 sunk before the truths presented, and what few people 
 were present seemed to me to be like so many blocks 
 of wood upon a calm pond, read}' to go which ever way 
 the wind blew; and b}^ the time I had proved the seven
 
 354 A WESTERN PIONEER 
 
 kinds of liaptism. all eyes, cxcopt the Cftm|»bellitoP, 
 wliosc liettds were down, seemed to dance in their 
 Bocketa for joy; and all that followed in a discoarse of 
 near two hours in length, seemed to be readily received 
 and believed. 
 
 When I had closed and dismissed the congregation 
 the local preacher, an<l what few membei*s were present, 
 came around me as they never had before. The 
 preacher said if they had had such preaching before, 
 the Campbellites would never have got the foothold 
 they had. 
 
 When my frii^htened steward heard how^ I came 
 out, he regretted exceedingly that he had not boon 
 present. A Doctor of Medicine, not a professor of re- 
 ligion, but of Presbyterian proclivities, went through 
 the streets swearing tliat the discourse was as strong as 
 the everlasting hills, and he would give twenty dollars 
 for a copy of it. All except the Campbellites were so 
 excited with joy that they could neither sit nor stand 
 still. The brother with whom I lodge<l, when he got 
 home, walked the floor back and forth, and wondered 
 why they had never had such preaching before. If this 
 had been done, the immei-sionists would not have over- 
 ri<hlen eveiy thing and every bod}' as they had. And 
 it would seem, from what followed, that the news of 
 the discourse was all over the town that night, for the 
 next morning, as 1 rode out of town, most of the people 
 who saw me, including the boys in their shop-doors, 
 looked good-naturedly at me. 
 
 I U'fl word that as we had had turn about, if he 
 would (piit 1 would ; but if he preached again on the 
 Kubject I would blow him sky-high, and engaged an 
 intelligent brother to take notes if he did preach. 
 
 I was infornuMJ that Scott's members who were 
 present to hear me, told him that he must reply, and do 
 Bomettiing too, or his cause was prostrat*'! in that place;
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 355 
 
 and to save that, he gave out the next Sunday morn- 
 ing that at night he would answer my discourse. Tlie 
 excitement was now up to such a pitch that he had a 
 crowded house; but lie made a perfect failure, so much 
 so that his friends hung their heads, and others were 
 disgusted. He did not answer a single argument of 
 mine, nor attempt to do so. but pleaded for peace and a 
 cessation of the controversy. He said that the Meth- 
 odists and the Baptists were the nearest alike of any 
 of the Christian denominations, and they should not 
 quarrel; they had but little religion, but more than 
 an}^ other professors in the towm. As for the Presby- 
 terians, he said, the}'' "were hooted at. The lawj^ers," 
 he continued, " Avere the best Christians in town, and 
 as a proof of it, he said they would, though pitted 
 against each other, assist each other at the bar in hunt- 
 ing up their authorities." A wonderful sign of piety! 
 
 At the time of mj^ next round my quarterly -meet- 
 ing came off, and I had to preach the Friday night 
 before. As our church was being finished, and could 
 not be occupied, and if it could, it was not deemed 
 to be large enough to hold the expected congregation, 
 as the whole town was now on tiptoe to hear the con- 
 troversy, so our friends secured the court-house for the 
 occasion. 
 
 When I entered the house, it was through a dense 
 crowd, and hundreds were standing about the doors 
 and open windows. A dozen or so of lawyers and 
 doctors were seated round the counsel table, with lights, 
 pens, ink, and paper to take notes, and Scott, with a 
 pile of books, occupied one end of the table. I saw 
 at a glance the responsibility that rested upon me. 
 If 1 fell before this Goliah of Campbellism, our cause 
 was gone for that place; if he fell, the salvation of the 
 world by grace instead of water, would be more ho|)e- 
 ful. But believing that our cause was the cause of God,
 
 356 A WESTERN PIONEElT 
 
 I raised my heart to him for help, and I trust had it. 
 The rcspoiisibilit}' that 1 felt resting upon mo produced 
 a kind of inward fever, and I called for some water, 
 which was at once ])rodiiced. 
 
 I opened hy readini^ and singini^ the hymn begin- 
 ning with, 
 
 "Jesus, j^roat Sheplicrd of the sheep, 
 To thee for help we fly; 
 Thy little flock in safety keep. 
 For, 0, the wolf is nigh. " 
 
 As I read the last line I looked down upon Scott, and a 
 wag afterward said that he was so scared that his ears 
 ]o]ipcd, UTjder the withering allusion. 
 
 I took up the same suhject as before, only greatly 
 enl:irge<l. I had written out over one hundred texts, at 
 full length, with book, cha])ter, and verse, so as to make 
 no mistake. I replied to his plea for charity by re- 
 niniking that his system had no charity for others, for 
 he preached that baptism by immersion, for tiie remis- 
 sion of sin, was essential to salvation. It it was so, then 
 ail infants must be lost, for them he would not bapti/.e; 
 a»)d all Alctiiodists, Presbyterians, Congrcgalionalists, 
 Quakers, and. indeed, the old-fashioned Baptists, (who, 
 by the way, were a respectable people compared with 
 these ('am|»bi'llites,) an<l were baptized on ju-ofession 
 of faith, not to wash away their sins; all, all, must 
 go, head and heels, into hell, because they had not been 
 j)ut. head and heels, into the water by a Campbollit^ 
 preacher, for the remission of their sins; and if this 
 is a specimen of the gentleman's charity, I say, with 
 the Churchman, "from such, good Lord, deliver us." 
 
 His commtMulation of the lawyer's religion reminde«l 
 me ot the unjust steward, in the parable, who expected 
 to bo ousted from his office, and defrauded his employer 
 to Bccuro the friendship of his debtors ; and so, it seemed 
 to me, this chamjiiim of rrror, fearing his old friends
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 357 
 
 and adherents would cast him off, wished to make 
 friends somewhere, but I had too high a respect for the 
 gentlemen of the bar to think for a moment that such 
 a bait would take with them. 
 
 I said, further, that I had been informed that the 
 gentleman had been baptized tliree times ; first, when 
 an infant, in the Presbyterian Church ; second, by the 
 Baptist, on profession of faith, and that his sins had 
 been pardoned; and third, after he had fallen into this 
 Campbellite delusion of washing away sin by water. A 
 lady in this town — she was then present — suggested to 
 him that baptism was /or the remission of sins, and tliat 
 his former baptism, meaning among the old Baptists, 
 was on profession of faith, and not for the remission of 
 sin, and, therefore, was not valid, and asked him if it 
 was. He saw at once that if his present doctrine was 
 true his former baptism on profession of faith was not 
 good; and so ho said he would go at once and be bap- 
 tized for the remission of sin. Away he and sixteen 
 others went, down to the Little Beaver Creek, one cold 
 night in February, and one of them first put our hero 
 under the water for the remission of Ms sins, and then 
 he turned round and did the same service for the six- 
 teen others, all of whom had been previously immersed 
 on their profession of having obtained from Grod the re- 
 mission of their sins, but by this act denying it. 
 
 Now, said I, this man had been preaching to you 
 before this as a minister of Christ, professing to have 
 obtained pardon from God; but by this act he virtually 
 acknowledged that he had lied when he made that pro- 
 fession ; and what evidence have you that he tells you 
 the truth now? Once guilty, twice suspected, is the old 
 adage. If he never obtained pardon except in his bap- 
 tism that cold night, I will assure you that he is yet in 
 his sins ; and if he came to you before with false profes- 
 sions, what assurance have you that he is not false now?
 
 358 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Fmther. it is a part of their creed that the baptizer 
 niuHt have been first baptized for the remissioti of his 
 sins, before he can confer, or impart, remission to others. 
 To 8fty nothing of tho question as to wIjo baptized the 
 first one for tliis purpose, or wliere this tirade l»ad its 
 beginning, in this case the person who baptized our 
 hero was not so baptized till after he performed the 
 office lor him; and if the remission depended ui)on the 
 right baptism of tlie baptizer, then our hero's sins were 
 not remitted, after all, nor were tlie sins of those he 
 baptized. 
 
 I occupied about two and a lialf hours, and the peo- 
 ple were very attentive and patient. I then gave him 
 an opportunity to reply, if lie chose to do so, and the 
 first tiling he attempted was to get rid of my remarks 
 upon his charity. He demanded of me my authority 
 for saying that he j)reacl)ed tiiat baptism was essential 
 to salvation ? 
 
 I ri'plied, "By common report, and from your 
 books." 
 
 "That is not sufficient. I must havi- JH'thi cvidt-nco 
 than that. Is there any gentleman here who dares wit- 
 ness that he ever heard me preach it? If there is, I '11 
 make him prove it to-morrow morning before the 
 magistrate." 
 
 At this more than twenty spoke out, and said that 
 they had heard him preach it. One of them rose to his 
 foot and said, " Sir, I heard 3'ou preach it ; and you said, 
 further, that if the nngel Gabriel were to preach any 
 other doctrine you would spit in his face." 
 
 At this he quailed; but said nothing more about 
 making them prove it before the magistrate. 
 
 "Now, sir," said I, "to settle this (jucstion. will you 
 now say that baptism is not essential to salvation ? Will 
 you admit that persons may obtain pardon for sin, and 
 be savetl. without being baptized? "
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 359 
 
 "No," be said he would not; and went on, in his 
 way, to prove that it teas essential. 
 
 At this half or two-thirds of the congregation left 
 the house; though he kept hobbling along for half an 
 hour, the people were constantly dropping off and leav- 
 ing, and he sat down; whereupon I arose and said, that 
 as he had said nothing to require a rejoinder, I should 
 dismiss the audience with the benediction, and did so. 
 
 It was amusing and interesting, the next morning, 
 to see the groups of men in the streets discussing the 
 question in debate; but it was a death-blow to Camp- 
 bellism in that j^lace, for at least two years. I was in- 
 formed that its adherents wrote to Campbell himself to 
 come and save his cause, but he declined ; and it was 
 two years before they could make any show for a big 
 meeting there. 
 
 I was now in for the war, and was called on to 
 preach the same discourse all round the countr}^ where 
 Campbellism had gained any foothold, and with the 
 same effect. The call for this discourse was not con- 
 fined to my circuit for this 3^ear, but for three 3'ears 
 after, and on as many different circuits, wiiere the fame 
 of it had gone, I was called on to preach it, and invari- 
 ably, as I was informed, with a similar effect. Nothing 
 but my removal to fields of labor beyond the reach and 
 influence of the ism, seemed to limit the call. 
 
 They are a people who use much sarcasm; indeed, 
 this seems to be their chief weapon. They talk flip- 
 pantly about bab}'' sprinkling, etc., and, in accordance 
 with the direction of Solomon, to "answer a fool ac- 
 cording to his folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit," 
 and also, with "the mete that ye measure it shall be 
 measured to j'ou again," so I dealt them blows of their 
 own coining. I told them that " it was a strange coin- 
 cidence that when the devil got into the hogs they ran 
 violently down the mountain into the sea; and when
 
 360 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 C'uinpl)cllism t^ot into tlie people, they ran down the 
 hill into u brook, or mill-pond. I do not say that the 
 devil is in them, but I say it is a wonderful coincidence." 
 
 At one of our quarterly -meetings, this year, held in 
 the Quaker meeting- house in iSalem, while I was preaeh- 
 ini^, at three o'clock, P. M., on the ejeneral judinncnt, it 
 so lia))pt'ned that a tremendous thunder storm came 
 over the place. The house was crowded and waiin, tl>o 
 dooi*8 and windows having to be kept shut, to keep out 
 the storm, and the noise of the thunder outside required 
 loud speaking inside to be heard ; but the scene outside 
 tended to make the scene inside of the house the more 
 impressive, and though it was not equal to the similar 
 scene with Henjamin Abbott, yet several were said to 
 have been awakened under the discoui-se, who sought 
 and found pardoning mercy ; one of whom recently died 
 not far from my residence, in the triumphs of faith. 
 
 In the course of this year, m3'self and colleague 
 gathered money, and distributed twenty-five thousand 
 pages of tracts among our people. We had no general 
 revivals, but now and theti a conversion, so that, in the 
 end, we had not only made up for the loss by deaths, 
 expulsions, and removals, but had a respectable increase 
 in the membership, besides saving them from the delu- 
 sions of Kadicalism. 
 
 1 also continued my communications to the "Itiner- 
 ant," so as to have one on hand for each number, once 
 in two weeks, most of the year. The circuit had thirt}*- 
 three ap])ointmentH, which were filled once in four 
 weeks by each of us. They were so arranged as to be 
 filled in three weeks and one day, leaving me one week 
 out of the four, between Sundays, to visit my famil}', by 
 going home on Monday, thirty-three miles, and return- 
 ing on Saturday, twenty-seven miles. 
 
 I read and wrote so much this year that, notwith- 
 standing the amount of travel and preaching I had tc
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 361 
 
 do, the dyspepsia bore down upon me with a heavy 
 hand, and I became so enfeebled tiiat I could not sit up 
 all day. I would get off the bed or lounge, and ride to 
 my appointment and preach, and then take to my bed 
 again. At last, coming near New Lisbon, on Friday, 
 after preaching, I rode five miles, into town, and co!i- 
 sulted Dr. M'Cook, the most celebrated physician in that 
 place. He said there was no use in taking large doses 
 of medicine ; they would giv^e temporary relief by stim- 
 ulating the digestive organs to excess, and then the re- 
 action would leave them worse than before. The dis- 
 ease consisted entirely of weakness in the digestive 
 organs, and the onl}^ remedy of any use, permanent 1}', 
 was gentle tonics, thrown into the stomach in small 
 doses, just enough to assist Nature in performing her 
 natural functions. If necessar}', he said to chew a little 
 rhubarb and swallow it, and chew and swallow gentian- 
 root, and take small doses of quinine in vsubstance. 
 
 I said, " Doctor, my spirits get low; can 't you give 
 me something to keep them up?" 
 
 " O, that belongs to your complaint ; for a tempo- 
 rary relief, use a little brandy." 
 
 "I don't like that; is there nothing else that will 
 do as well?" 
 
 "Why, your creed will let you use it for medicine." 
 
 "Yes, but if there is any thing else that will do as 
 well, I would i-ather use it." 
 
 "Well, use horse-radish, then." 
 
 I went to my lodgings and called for some horse- 
 radish, and the good brother soon procured a supply, 
 and when grated and mixed with vinegar, a table- 
 spoonful, if there was acid on my stomach, would neu- 
 tralize it, and it operated like so much epsom salts ; 
 but if there was no acid, such effect would not occur. 
 I used it at supper on Friday, and three times at 
 meals on Saturday, and on Sunday. I improved so 
 
 31
 
 362 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 fast that on Sunday I preached twice, an<l met class; 
 and on Monday rode home, thirty tliree miles. I Tound 
 that this was the remedy for me, and when the radish 
 could not be had, the vinegar, diluted with water, an- 
 swered nearly as well. I soon could eat an>' farmer "a 
 food, and by observinf^ wliat I could cut without bad 
 effects, and eating that only, abstaining from that which 
 injured me, by this mode of living I have kept the dis- 
 ease at bay till this time. 
 
 Sugar in tea and coffee, and the I'at of pork did not 
 and does not yet agree with me ; other meats relish 
 and set well. H I use sweet things, I must take vine- 
 gar to neutralize it. 
 
 I had used the pipe for thirtc^en years, by direction 
 of a physician, for my throat, to promote expectora- 
 tion, but my doctor now told me I must quit it. If I 
 would smoke only three or four times a da}', 1 might 
 continue. "But you will do more, and. therefore, you 
 must quit it altogether. ' I did so, and for seven years 
 did not taste of tobacco. But after I came to Wiscon- 
 sin, my tljroat complaint returned on me with more 
 violence than before. For three weeks I could not 
 speak above a whisper. At leni^^th my wife, who 
 smoked, brought me a pil)e lighted, and said I should 
 smoke. I did so, and was soon relieved ; ami e.xcipt 
 at a few intervals of a few" months each. I have contiu- 
 ue<l to use the J)ipe till this day from necessity. 
 
 Ill IHIJO our Conference met at Uniontown, Penn. 
 At that session we had some trouble about Madison 
 College, located in that town. IKiny B. Hascoin ha<l 
 been its Bresident, but was so unpopular in the ottive 
 that it became necessary for a change. lie had min- 
 gled largely with the Uadicals, and was saiid to be the 
 author of their declaration of in<lep<«ii(lence. He was 
 certainly a scholar, but not being a graduate of a col- 
 lego, a feeling among graduates, similar to the * IJed
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 363 
 
 Tape" system of the army, which excludes any but 
 West-Pointers from promotion or special fuvor, if possi- 
 ble, seemed to prevail. But above all a lack of finan- 
 cial skill, in his own or in public affairs, by which the 
 concern was hopelessly in debt, and owing to the state 
 of things named, there were serious objections among 
 our people to contribute to sustain the College. 
 
 The matter was discussed and debated for two days 
 in the Board of Trustees, when Bascom, seeing that 
 he was in the way, tendered his resignation, which was 
 accepted, and the debate ceased. This year the Con- 
 ference met there, and in the college building, with a 
 view, if possible, to save it. But the backset it had 
 received continued its downward motion, and the Col- 
 lege passed out of our hands. 
 
 The College was got up by our Conference to supply 
 a growing demand of our people for the means of edu- 
 cation under our own influences. Many of our people 
 were in circumstances, and had the taste and inclina- 
 tion to give their sons and daughters liberal educations. 
 Having seen many of the children of Methodist parents, 
 who were educated under other doctrinal influences 
 than oui- own, and come from college or the academy 
 alienated from the Church of their parents, our peo- 
 ple called for schools and colleges under our own pat- 
 ronage and control, and to meet this demand this 
 College was got up; and though it failed, yet we were 
 on the lookout for another, in which we succeeded a 
 few years after. 
 
 My appointment this year (1830) was to Youngs- 
 town circuit, with Thomas Carr for a colleague. This 
 circuit included m}^ home, and I being well known 
 iimoiig tlie people, none of the iron-rod stories were 
 afloat. Eadicalism was rampant in some parts of it, 
 which, I suj)pose, was the principal reason for my 
 appointment, though accommodation, after three jears
 
 364 A WKSTI.KN riONKFK. 
 
 of distant appointments, probably iiad somotliing to do 
 with it. 
 
 In the village of Youngstown, where the Radicals had 
 the greatest foothold, we had two churches. The old 
 one of Home yeais standini^ becoming too Hmall, a new 
 one was built. The Radicals were working their ma- 
 chinery to get the old one, if not the new one. but I 
 headed them off by getting up a petition to the Legisin- 
 ture for an act to authorize the trustees to sell tlie old 
 one, and put the avails of it into the new, and the bill was 
 passed and became a hiw before the Radicals had any 
 knowledge of what was going on. When they heard of it. 
 they tried to raise a fuss and got up a remonstrance to 
 the Legislature ; but they were too late fbr one thing, 
 the bill had become a law. Another thing was. they 
 had witlulrawn from the ('hurch, and, of course, had no 
 interest in or claim on the property, so that no action 
 was had upon it. When they found their failure, they 
 turned upon me with their maledictions : but as our 
 rights were secured, and nothing more, 1 had done 
 them no harm. By leaving ti»e Church they had sur- 
 ren<lered all the rights they ever had in it. Tins ques- 
 tion settled, we attended to our own busiriess :ind let them 
 wax and wane, as is natural for such wild VMgaries. 
 
 In Cantield, Radicalism had got some foothold, 
 though it had not yet ripened into secession, but. as a 
 natural conseciuence, religion was at a very low ebb. 
 Hair, or more, of our young folks had backslid, though 
 they yet retained the form of religion. 
 
 An aged and venerable brothei-. a hxal ]>reacher, 
 wl»o gave the ground on which tin* cliurch was l>uilt, 
 ha<l. as he thought, foieseen the ])ossihle secession, and 
 feeling a little inclined to go with the seceders. if a re- 
 spectable number went otV. had varu'd the form of the 
 deed from that of the Discipline, by inserting " the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church on Youngstown circuit,"
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 365 
 
 instead of "the United States." He supposed that his 
 personal influence would carry the circuit with him. 
 When he found that the circuit, as a whole, would not 
 go off with the Eadicals, he would not go, as he could 
 not take the Cliurch with him. But his low state of re- 
 ligion seemed to affect the whole societj'. 
 
 At a quarterly -meeting in the church on Sunday 
 night, I was put up to exhort after the sermon. I never 
 rose in a pulpit with such a sense of the responsibilities 
 of my charge resting upon me, and the worth of souls. 
 A power from the eternal world rested upon me, and 
 seemed like fire in my bones, and in my soul; what I 
 said was the outflowing of such feelings. Being accom- 
 panied by the Divine blessing, a solemn and powerful 
 sense of the Divine presence pervaded the assembly. 
 Many trembled and wept. Some broke out in sobs and 
 cries, and a sensible movement was visible in the con- 
 gregation. When I invited penitents to the altar, about 
 thirty came forward, the most of whom were our back- 
 slidden young folks, and about twenty were reclaimed 
 and several converted that night, and a good work 
 continued in the place for some time. This was death 
 to Eadicalism in that place, and we had no more 
 trouble from that source. 
 
 The next day our local brother went to a good sister 
 whose daughter was among the reclaimed, and said 
 something against the revival as being only an excite- 
 ment got up to kill off '"reform;" thus tacitly admit- 
 ting that '• reform," improperlj^ so called, and revivals 
 of religion, did not harmonize. But the good sister, 
 who had been leaning that way, seeing this, broke out, 
 "If your new scheme is opposed to revivals and the 
 saving of souls, I will have nothing more to do with 
 it." This was a quietus, and the mistaken brother said 
 no more about his favorite hobby, for he soon found 
 the society generally agreed with the good sister.
 
 866 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 The usual routine of dutioH, meetings, etc.. went on 
 with good success throughout the year. Just before 
 Conference wo held a camp-meeting in Ellsworth of the 
 higher order. No rowdies disturbed us, and the relig- 
 ious exercises were of a highly devotional character. A 
 large number of respectable outsiders attended with 
 their converted friends, for a little pleasant pastime, 
 and a social interview with friends and acquaint- 
 ances. Times had greatly changed in a few years. So 
 many of the higher classes of society had become 
 Methodists, that their unconverted friends, if they for- 
 merly felt a spirit of opposition, were now disarmed ; 
 and out of respect to friends, if from no higher motives, 
 behaved respectfully at our meetings, and rather sided 
 with us. 
 
 Among the outsiders were five professed infidels. 
 As "birds of a feather flock together," so with them. 
 They watched the motion of things. They saw some 
 of their friends converted, and heard them tell of 
 their happiness from the change that had occurred, the 
 evidence of which was so clear and strong, even aside 
 of their own word for it, that the}' could not question 
 it. They also saw and heard the professions of hapi)i- 
 ness from their friends who had been some time pro- 
 fessors of the religion wo preached, and in whom they 
 had confidence at homo or abroad. 
 
 On Saturday evening, while a powerful and good 
 work was in progress, they, as usual, were sitting 
 togither trying to ])lul()s<)j»hize upon this change in 
 man's moral nature, which was so frequently occurring 
 before their eyes, and which they could no more deny 
 than they could deny their senses, but tney could come 
 to no satisfaetory eon elusion. One of them was an 
 eminent physician of my own name, though not near 
 enough related to claim any kinship; he knew of no 
 law of our physical nature uj>on which to account for it.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 367 
 
 This left it on supci-natiiral grounds, and no other; but 
 this they had so long indulged in reasoning against, that 
 they were unwilling to yield the point without some 
 reasons more potent in their view than tiiose they had 
 been in the habit of hearing. What should they do? 
 Facts, which are "stubborn things," were against them. 
 Their former reasonings could not solve the m3'stery. 
 If it was natural^ they knew of no law by which to ex- 
 plain it, and if it was really supernatural, tiiey were 
 in a dangerous error. 
 
 In this extremity one of them said, "Those people 
 are evidentl}^ happier than we are, and enjoy them- 
 selves better than we do. If it is delusion, as we have 
 supposed, yet the}*- have decidedly the advantage of us, 
 for they arc happier than we are. If they are right, 
 we are wrong, and the sooner we know it the better; 
 and I propose to submit to the preachers some points 
 that stand in our way, with a request that one of their 
 ablest men preach on them." 
 
 To this they all agreed. After consultation, they 
 drew up the following five points: 
 
 1. The divinity of Christ. 
 
 2. The immortality of the soul. 
 
 3. The resurrection of the dead. 
 
 4. Faith without reason for it. 
 
 5. The real nature of the Christian religion. 
 The}^ placed this paper in the hands of a local 
 
 preacher, who handed it to me in the tent, with their 
 request. 
 
 I inquired who they were ; but he was desired not 
 to give their names then, though he miglit do so 
 afterward. 
 
 "Are they respectable persons, and really seeking 
 light, or are they captious rowdies who wish to show 
 their smartness, by what thej^ think will puzzle us?'* 
 
 "They are of the most respectable families in the
 
 868 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 country, ami ROine of them are connected with families 
 of our ('liuich. They seem to be badly htaLC.iXt*J*^'d by 
 what they have Keen and heard on the t^round. but 
 tljeir old viewB and reasoninjjs on tliese points stand in 
 their way, and if they can bo so explained as to satisfy 
 them, they will ])r<)l)ably embrace religion and bo 
 baved." 
 
 Upon tl»is report of the case, I concluded that tluv 
 ought to be gratified, and directed that they be 80 
 inf()rnie<l ; that a sermon upon these points would be 
 preached the next day, Sunday, at some hour to bo fixe<l 
 upon, and that they should be informed. 
 
 As brother Eddy was the ]>reHiding elder, I sub- 
 mitted the matter to him to preach it; but ho utterly 
 refused, saying, "If they hear not Moses and the 
 )>r<)phets, neither would they believe though one rose 
 from the dead." 
 
 " But I understand that these arc respectable men, 
 are half convinced now, and if we can remove the 
 difficulties that are in their way, we may save them." 
 
 •Well, if you have a mind to do so, you can, but I 
 wnii't." This, perha])8, was lor the best; for though 
 brother Edil}' was an able preacher, he had no taste or 
 tact for such controversy. His torto was in explaining 
 an<l eiifoiciiig the ])recepts of tho Gospel and advocat- 
 ing experiniental religion. 
 
 As the meeting was on my own charge, I felt some 
 delicacy in ])reaching tho discourse myself, when there 
 were several distitiguished visiting brethren present. 
 I requested several to do it, but all declined. lirother 
 John Luccoek was llien rather young, but his contro- 
 ver.*>ial abilities were somiwhat developed; but ho 
 declined. Ho was to preach at three o'clock and 1 at 
 night; but as three o'clock was deemed the most suit- 
 able hour, he said he would exchange hours with me. 
 So I was compelled to do this preaching myself. I
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 369 
 
 must confess that I felt nothing loth, for I had no mis- 
 givings as to the result. 
 
 At tlie close of the morning service it was announce.!, 
 and all were invited to be present who had any doubts 
 on these subjects. This probablj' detained hundreds 
 who usually leave the ground at or before the hour of 
 three o'clock, P. M. There was no sensible diminution 
 of the congregation from that of the morning service. 
 Brother Eddy having no taste for such controversy 
 took his Bible and went to the woods to read and pray, 
 and did not hear the discourse. 
 
 At the hour all the other preachers were on the 
 stand or about it. Just back of the congregation sat, 
 on a seat by themselves, four gentlemanly-looking 
 young men — the fifth, the physician, had been called 
 away to set a broken arm for a passenger in a Sunday- 
 going stage, which had upset. I took them to be the 
 inquirers, and pitched m}^ voice just loud enough for 
 them to hear distinctly. I afterward learned that there 
 were some dozen or twenty of similar skeptical views 
 on the ground, who remained to hear the discourse. I 
 found, too, that our most intelligent members felt a deep 
 interest in the subject, in hopes of being furnished with 
 arguments and illustrations with which to meet such, 
 when they should happen to be pitted with them in 
 argument, or when they might be under temj^tation on 
 these points. 
 
 It took me about tliree hours. The audience kept 
 their seats, with eyes and ears fixed on me, as if spell- 
 bound, and some of them said afterward they wondered 
 how the sun settled down so fast in the west, not being 
 aware of the flight of time. 1 watched m}^ four friends, 
 ^vho hardly moved a muscle or a limb, but looked as if 
 they felt that a critical moment was upon them, for life or 
 death. Some of the women said afterward that the sun 
 went down uncommonly fast; they saw that it was time
 
 870 A WESTERN PIONEKR. 
 
 for the tea-kettle to be over the fire, but could not leave 
 to attend to it ; but some sent their children who were 
 not so much interested, to do this work. 
 
 After tlie preach ini^ at night one of these ^'ontlemen 
 came into the preachers' tent to see me. Like Nicodo- 
 mus ho chose the night to make his inquiries. He said 
 lie was one of the conipan}' who sent in the request, 
 was well pleased with the discourse, but wished to ask 
 a few questions on points not fully cleared up to his 
 satisfaction. If they were cleared up he should bo 
 j>erfectly satisfied. 
 
 I told him to jn'oceed with his questions, and he di<l 
 80 ; and I answered to his entire satisfaction. He said, 
 also, that the others were as well satisfied as he was. 
 The result was, the four were soon after converted to 
 God. I found afterward that this discourse was of i^reat 
 1180 to our membership, especially those who had skep- 
 tical friends, or had been tempted to infidelity. 
 
 I treated the inquirers with due respect and courtesy. 
 I admitted their honesty of intention, but lamented 
 their errors. I used no offensive language, nor oppro- 
 brious epithets, nor called them or their cla.ss by any 
 hard names. I had learneil long before that " soft words 
 go far," and never resort to hai-sh terms, except on 
 those on whom no other will be appreciated. I use 
 hard arguments, but not hard words. 
 
 One of these inquirers lived on Cleveland circuit, 
 and had come about sixty miles to see his friends and 
 attend the meeting, and the next year, when on that 
 circuit, I found his house was one of our lodging-places. 
 At a quarterly-meeting in that place wo, the preachers, 
 lodged with him. As brother Eddy, the presiding elder, 
 srenic'd to be muih pleased with this new preacheis' 
 home, 1 reniinde«l him that our host was one of the 
 men who sent in that request at the Ellsworth camp- 
 meeting.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 371 
 
 "O, well," said he, '-I will never say another word 
 against preaching controversial sermons. If this is the 
 fruit of it, in God's name go on, and preach such as much 
 as 3'0ii please." In truth he should not have objected 
 at all, to be consistent; for before the year was out, lie 
 intimated that he should have me sent to Cleveland pur- 
 posely to preach against infidelity and Campbeliism. 
 
 In the course of this year, by direction of my pre- 
 siding elder. I iield a four-daj's' meeting in Rootstown, 
 in a barn, three miles from Ravenna. The object was, 
 if possible, to make an impression on Ravenna. We had 
 no suitable house in that village; the court-house was 
 shut against all such holy purposes; the school-house 
 was not large enough, and the next best thing we could 
 do was to occupy an empty barn. The two preachers 
 on the circuit, with some others, were assigned to help 
 me. The roads were good, and the people for six or 
 eight miles around came in their wagons, ten or a dozen 
 at a load. They came after breakfast, bringing their 
 dinners; went home to tea and back for night-meeting, 
 and home after it. 
 
 I preached in Ravenna on Thursday night. On Fri- 
 day at ten, two, and night, there was preaching in the 
 barn, and so on vSaturday and Sunday, the other 
 brethren taking their turns. On Monday morning we 
 had a love-feast, at two the Lord's-Supper, and at night 
 the closing sermon. Between each morning and after- 
 noon service we had prayer-meetings for penitents, and 
 also after the night preaching, till ten o'clock, except 
 Monday night, when it continued till two o'clock next 
 morning. At the noon lunch a part of the people ate 
 while others prayed, and then those that had eaten 
 took their places at the mourners' bench, and let the 
 others eat. Between the afternoon service and night, 
 all went to tea and returned. Thus from ten, A. M., 
 till four or five, P. M., the barn was kept vocal with
 
 372 A WKSTEKN PIONEER. 
 
 preacliini;, praying, or sin^ini^; and the same from 
 ^*eveIl to ten, I*. M. The hay, the tlour, the ntable, and 
 lofl over the stable, all being well cleaned out and 
 ^trowed with straw, were well seated, and well filled, 
 :»nd then hundreds occupied seats on the green sward 
 in front, the large doors being swung open. 
 
 The numerous wagon loads going to and from the 
 meetings made the air melodious with the songs of 
 Zion. Not the least interruption occurred. If any 
 came with such intent, they were awed into rever- 
 ence by the holiness of the place, and its surrounding 
 influences. 
 
 About midnight, Monday, 1 retired to the house and 
 sought rest; but about two, A. M., the brethren from the 
 barn came in, shouting and j)raising God, and one said, 
 •We have worked up all the timber; the last penitent 
 was converted." Atler the last one at the bench had 
 found jH'ace, they searched the barn, and found one 
 wIm) was hid in the manger. Him they lifted on to the 
 barn floor, and pi-ayed with and for him till he also 
 found j)eace. 
 
 The result of this meeting was glorious. Fully one 
 hundred were converted in the barn, among whom was 
 Cyrus Prentice, of Ilavenna, who honored God, the 
 Church, and the world, tor many years, and died in 
 triumph. The revival influence that sj)read from the 
 meeting, I was told, brought in at least one hundred 
 more; making, in all, about two hundred converted, as 
 the fruit of this meeting.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 373 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 OUE Conference for 1831 met in Pittsburg. The 
 Eadicals had now got fiiirly under way, and called 
 themselves "Protestant Methodists." They went out 
 from us with a declaration of independence, imitating 
 the Eeyolution of these United States. This was under- 
 stood to be for effect. In their appeals to the Church 
 and the world, in favor of what they called "reform,' 
 their "harp of a thousand strings" was borrowed from 
 the political arena. They sought favor by working 
 upon the political passions and prejudices ot the people; 
 and to carry out the farce, they must have a declara- 
 tion of rights, grievances, and (false) charges against 
 the Church to which the}^ owed all the prominence they 
 had in the world, and the Church, which, under God, 
 had taken them from sin, ignorance, and folly, and had 
 raised them to some degree of prominence, in which 
 their heads became dizzy, and the result was, their 
 secession. 
 
 It was reported by the Eadicals that their famous, 
 or i/ifamous (as the reader may choose to have it) 
 declaration was from the pen of Henry B. Bascom, 
 then a member of the Pittsburg Conference, who, 
 though after favoring them and giving them aid and 
 comfort, did not think best to go with them. 
 
 The lines being now fairly drawn, it seemed but 
 right to know who was for us and who against us. 
 While they remained with us, there was some hope 
 that they might see their error and remain, if borne 
 with awhile. And there was some fear that if the mal- 
 contents should be excluded, it might disturb some 
 wheat, that might, by forbearance, be saved. But now
 
 374 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 we were in ditrerent circumstances, which required a 
 different course of treatment. 
 
 1 therefore took Bascom to one side and told him 
 the report, and whence it came, and that when his 
 name was called, in the examination of character, ho 
 would be required to avow or disavow the authorship 
 of that document. 
 
 This threw him into a great nervou.s excitement. 
 His fingers and his snuff-box came into frequent con- 
 tact. He admitted the fact, but desired an iniel•^'^ew 
 with several of the leading members of Conference, to 
 whom he would explain the circumstances, before the 
 matter came before the Conference. 
 
 This interview was had, and the explanation was 
 this: At the time the Radical leaders were preparing 
 their declaration, he happened to be j)resent, and when 
 they read what was written, he laughed at the com- 
 position, and said, jocosely, that he could write a better 
 one himself They then desired him to do so. But he 
 declined, because he should not go with them, ami 
 would not burn his fingers with it. They then ban- 
 tered him ; and finally threw out innuendoes, or intima- 
 tions, that he could nt write a better one. This he said 
 he was fbolirh enough to let excite him; he felt his 
 pride sprung a little, and took up the pen and embod- 
 ied the sentiments of their document, merely to show 
 them that in point of composition he could write a bet- 
 ter declaration than they had done. 
 
 They admitted that he had beaten them in the com- 
 position, and desired it for adoption. This he said he 
 peremptorily refused, and reached his hand to take and 
 destroy it, but one caught it away, and prevented his 
 doing so. but they promised not to publish it, if ho 
 would leave it with tluiu merely to refer to. Under 
 tliis solemn pn^mise not to give it publicity, he left it 
 with them.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 375 
 
 As they had violated their pledge and deceived him, 
 he i-egretted that he had left it with them, and averred 
 solemnly that he was done with them, and would have 
 no more intercourse with them. From the earnestness 
 of his manner, and apparent sincerity, we thought he 
 must be pretty well cured of the ism, and agreed to let 
 him pass. So when his name was called, he rose and 
 alluded to the matter, and referred to me, and others, 
 to exj^lain to the Conference how he became involved 
 in the aif'air. This was done, and his character was 
 allowed to pass. But we had to regret the frailty of 
 l^oor human nature in him ; for his subsequent acts 
 give ground to suspect that all his explanation and 
 professions of loyalty were a ruse to get through at 
 that time. He took a transfer from us to Kentucky 
 Conference, where he remained till he went off with a 
 greater secession, and from worse motives, to favor 
 slavery. 
 
 At this Conference, delegates were elected to the 
 General Conference, to meet in Philadelphia in May, 
 1832, of whom I was one. I was appointed to Cleve- 
 land circuit, with Dennis Goddard and John J. Stedman. 
 This was Stedman's first year. The circuit was large, 
 and required six weeks to go round. It extended to 
 Euclid, on Lake Erie, on the east, and to Hudson, 
 Stowe, and Franklin on the south. 
 
 It will be noticed that I had not, up to this time, 
 been appointed to any charge for two years in succes- 
 sion ; though I had been on the same charges the 
 second and third time, with one, two, or three years 
 intervening. I was not aware that a re-appointment 
 would not have been acceptable to the people; for 
 when I went back to any circuit that I had traveled 
 before, I always met with a cordial reception, and 
 never had to meet the "iron-rod" stories a second 
 time.
 
 876 A WKSTERN PIONEKR. 
 
 But the reason /i^iven for my annual channjes was, 
 that the af)j)ointing j)0\vcr always had some special job 
 or difficult task for me to attend to, when "old iron- 
 sides," as the preachers called me, must do it. 
 
 In those days, a re-appointment, or to be returned 
 to a charge for a second year in succession, was not 
 favorably received. It was said of such that they had 
 but half done their work the first year, and were re- 
 turned to finish it. There being but few parsonages, 
 and not as much moving of families as there is now, 
 most of the preachers preferred an annual change, and 
 80 did the people, for the sake of variety. 
 
 For the three preceding years, my appointments 
 were made with special reference to Eadicalism ; this 
 year it was made with special reference to infidelity, 
 though Campbellism was to be attended to. Intjdelity 
 had reigned rampant in Cleveland lor a long time. 
 They boasted that they had no church in the place. 
 But about the year 1830, when the tide of immigration 
 was rolling up the lake by both land and water, the 
 immigrants frequently stopped and looked at the place, 
 with a view to settlement if all things suited. Of 
 course, religious and moral people had some respect to 
 the society of a place; and of this they judged from 
 the schools and churches, and seeing no churches here, 
 tliey inquired for them. 
 
 "O, we have no churches; we do n't want them ; we 
 are not priest-ridden, and don't mean to be." 
 
 "Well, have you no Sabbaths hero?" 
 
 "No; we care no more about Sunday than any 
 other day." 
 
 "Then Ave will not stop here. We won't raise a 
 I'amily where there aie no Sabbaths nor churches. We 
 will go further uj) tlu- lake. We shall find them some- 
 whei-e." 
 
 This opened the eyes of the infidels. They saw that
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 377 
 
 they were losing the best class of immigrants on account 
 of their infidelity, and said among themselves, -We 
 must have a church." A subscription of some two thou- 
 sand dollars was raised, and oifered to the first denom- 
 ination that would build a church. It so happened that 
 a Churchman was the first who came along, and he ac- 
 cepted the offer, and it was said, returned to New York 
 and raised two thousand dollars more, and a church 
 was built. As the ministers of that Church were not 
 revivalists, of course they never disturbed the con- 
 sciences of men of the world. The latter were suited, 
 and a few of them attended the services. 
 
 This, when I went there, was the only church edi- 
 fice in the place. It was small, but built with some 
 taste, and in that respect suited the eye of those who 
 knew or cared little about spiritual things. The Pres- 
 byterians occupied a chamber over a store or ware- 
 house of some kind. There might have been a few 
 Baptists in the town, but if so, they occupied a private 
 dwelling as a place of worship. We met in a private 
 house through the Fall and Winter, but in the Spring 
 were obliged to give up this, and go to the woods bor- 
 dering upon the town. If the weather was fair we had 
 a small congregation, but if it rained we had none. 
 The society was small and poor, and could not build. 
 I secured a donation of a lot in an eligible situation, 
 but had to leave it unoccupied, though I was informed 
 that the first Methodist church in the place was built 
 upon it. 
 
 There was a splendidly finished court-house in the 
 town, but the reigning infidelity excluded all kinds of 
 religious worship from it, and so, too, from the school- 
 rooms — as if courts of justice and school-rooms had no 
 connection nor harmony with the enlightening Gospel 
 of Christ ! 
 
 At onetime, within this year, a report was circulated 
 32
 
 378 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 in town, that the celebrated Mr. Finne}-, the Presbyte- 
 rian revivalist, \vas about to visit the place. At this 
 the infidels took alarm, and held a public meeting, 
 and ])assed resolutions deprecating such a visit, and le- 
 questing that neither he nor an}- other revivalist should 
 visit the town. Whether Mr. Finney heard of the re- 
 quest or not, I do not know, but he did not come. 
 
 At my next a2)pointnient in the i)lace. alter the 
 dreadful (!) resolutions were passed, I published myself 
 as a revivalist, in hopes that they would take notice 
 enough of it to get up some excitement, which I knew 
 would draw out hearers, in which case some sinners 
 might be awakened and converted. Whether they 
 deemed me to be too '-small potatoes" for them to 
 notice, or whether they feared the consequences, I 
 know not ; but I was passed by in silence, and the 
 obdurate hardness of the people continued undis- 
 tuj-bed. 
 
 In Euclid, on thi.s circuit, I found my old friends, 
 Wakeman and Deborah Penfield, whom I had not seen 
 since I left Bridgeport, Connecticut. lie was now a re- 
 spectable local i»reacher. My visits and our reminiscen- 
 ces of olden times were pleasant and interesting. The 
 scenes of our youthful days were i-ehearsed, and almost 
 re-acted over, like old soldiers do their battles. 
 
 On my first round on the circuit, while at Hudson, 
 and my appointment out for preaching, brother Sted- 
 man, one of my colleagues, came to me and said that I 
 must go and fill his appointment, three miles distant, 
 and he would fill mine. He said that on reaching the 
 place where his appointment had been previously made, 
 he found the Can^pbellites in full blast of a protracted 
 meeting. They agreed that he might preach, but in- 
 tended to use him up allerw:ird. and lu^ would rather 
 preach to a disapjxMMtcd congregation than to his own, 
 under such circumstances.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 379 
 
 On reaching the place about dark, I found that 
 brother Groddard, my other colleague,. had heard of the 
 intended attack on our boy, and had come to the rescue, 
 having traveled several miles. The house was crowded. 
 "When we walked into the stand, their jjreachers having 
 seen and heard me before, saw that they had lost their 
 game, and soon passed the nod, wink, and whisper of 
 alarm round among their own class. 
 
 I preached my old anti-Campbellite sermon. It 
 took me nearly three hours. I had the best of atten- 
 tion and many favorable responses, while the Camp- 
 bellites hung their lieads in gloom and despair. Brother 
 Goddard closed the meeting, when one of their preach- 
 ers rose and desired to speak. I told him that they 
 had been there several days preaching their views 
 upon the subject, and would have some days yet to 
 come if they chose; that I had not heard them while 
 they had heard me, which gave them an advantage 
 over me, and as this was my meeting, I should not con- 
 sent for him to keep the people there any longer that 
 night, but should dismiss them. If after that an}- chose 
 to hear him they were at libert}^ to do so. Pronounc- 
 ing the apostolic benediction, we started for tlie door, 
 and all the congregation with us, except, perhaps, a 
 dozen of the Campbellites. They announced that they 
 would reply to me the next night, but I was told that 
 their audience was so small that they closed up at 
 once, instead of holding on for several days, as they 
 had intended. 
 
 I found several other places on the circuit where 
 these deluded people were trying to prevent others 
 from the truth, and persuade them to go, or rather at- 
 tempt to go, to heaven by icater, instead of depending 
 entirely upon the grace of God. But tiie light of truth 
 which I was enabled to present to the people caused 
 this ism to wither away, atid it was some years before
 
 880 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 they made any progress toward creeks, rivers, and mill- 
 ponds again. 
 
 In December 1 had the misfortune, wlnle facing a 
 cold north-westei-, to liave both ears and both thiirhs 
 frozen while on horseback. The next morning alter 
 freezing my thighs I found nij'self scarce!}- able to 
 walk. I was many miles from a physician, and no 
 one knew any remed}' where I was. I knew that 
 Young Hyson tea. just softened by hot water so as to 
 open the leaves, but not extract the strength, placed 
 ujjon a corn-meal poultice, was an infallible remedy for 
 a hum. On reasoning upon the subject, I came to the 
 conclusion that a freeze and a burn were alike, in that 
 they obstructed the circulation of the fluids in the mus- 
 cle, which produced inflammation, and as tea was a 
 stimulant that would promote this circulation, in case 
 of a buin, I concluded it would do so in case of a fiveze, 
 and resolved to try it. 
 
 But I could not use a poultice and ride to my next 
 appointment. I therefore t^)ok a tea-spoonful of tea, 
 l»ut it into a tea-cup with water, and then on the fire, 
 and made a very strong decoction of it, and with this 
 bathed i)oth ears and thighs three times before leaving 
 lor the saddle. The result was that the soreness left 
 my thighs, and my ears which had become running 
 sores, were soon healed up and became sound. 
 
 In February, 18I52, we had one of the mammoth 
 floods of the country. A large body ot snow was car- 
 ried off by a protracted and heavy i-ain, and every 
 liver in the country was swollen to a degree not 
 known for many years, if ever before. I visited m}' 
 family once in three weeks, but if by any means I 
 missed one visit, it run to six weeks. 
 
 The Cuyahoga River lay between me an<l my home, 
 the briuges over which, for forty miles, were said to bo 
 gone, except in one place. At that place the water was
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 381 
 
 over the embankments at each end of it, as high as my 
 saddle-sivirts. I made my way to the bridge, the water 
 being up to the stringers of it, and crossed to the east 
 end of it, where I found the puncheons, which* formed 
 the floor of it, were all afloat. I dared not ride on to 
 them, lest my horse should get his legs between them, 
 and both of us get thrown off into the river, where it 
 was twelve or fifteen feet dee]). Some men, standing on 
 the outer bank, beyond the overflowed bottom land, said 
 that I could not cross, and there was no use in trying, 
 I then returned to the shore from whence I had come, 
 and hired two men to take a wide board, in a canoe, to 
 tlie bridge, and lay it across the floating puncheons ; and 
 the weight of my iiorse on the board pressed them down 
 to their place, and riding him on the board, I reached 
 the embankment, which was covered with water; by 
 following that I reached the dry ground where the men 
 stood who said that I could not cross at all. The}'" 
 looked astonished. I said to them, '• Gentlemen, you 
 should never say to a Methodist preacher that he can 't 
 do a thing till you see him try and fail." 
 
 One of my appointments on this circuit was at Frank- 
 lin, at the head of the Great Fall of the Cujahoga 
 E,iver. For several miles above the river was nearly 
 on a level, and wended its way slowly through marshes 
 and swamps, spreading out to great width. Here, above 
 the falls, it was probabl}^ three hundred feet wide, but 
 was suddenly compressed into a gorge in the rocks, and 
 went pitching and tumbling down over broken rocks 
 for a mile or two, in which the water was said to fall 
 two hundred and fifty feet. At the head of this gorge 
 the rocks hung over from each shore to within twenty- 
 four feet of each other, the west side being a few feet 
 lower than the other. The width of the channel under 
 the overhanging rocks was not known, but presumed 
 to be from fifty to seventy feet. This narrow spot
 
 8S2 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 became famous in the Indian wars in this country by 
 an Indian jumping it, to escape from the celebrated 
 Bradys, of Beaver, Penn. 
 
 The 'tradition of the Bradys was tliis : They were 
 famous Indian huntei-s, about the time of "Wayne's 
 campaign among them. Their camp for trapping, fish- 
 ing, and hunting was on a brand) of Beaver River, 
 called '• Brady '« Kun," in the village of Sharon, from 
 which they made excursions out toward Lake Erie, in 
 quest of Indians. Finding a camp of five between two 
 little lakes or ponds, a few miles ea.st of this fall, they 
 attacked them, and killed three, the other two running 
 for this almost natural bridge, as their only means of 
 escaj)e from what they thought to be human devils. 
 
 The Indians, having dropped their guns, blankets, 
 and tomahawks, sped their way with great speed, but 
 the Bradys were close at. their heels. On reaching the 
 chasm one made the fearful leap of twenty-four feet, 
 and reached the opposite rock in safety; but the other 
 just touched the rock wnth his toes, and fell into the 
 foaming waters below, and, of course, wont down over 
 the falls, and was never heard of moje Th*' Bradys 
 were near enough to see the result. 
 
 Of these Bi'a(l}s the most wonderful tales were told 
 of their skill in hunting Indians, of their courage, des- 
 peration, and dare-devil bravery. They professed to be 
 able to scent the track of an Indian. They knew all 
 the signs V)y which to trace them, which they always 
 did, unless the signs indicated too large a number for 
 them to attack. They killed so many that the Indians 
 called them devils, and feared them more than they did 
 the evil one himself But the Indians succeeded, finally, 
 in capturing, first one and then the other, of these dar- 
 ing, an<l, to them, dangerous enemies; but to their own 
 Horr(»w in both cases. 
 
 The first one, when captured and in their power.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 383 
 
 assumed the bravado, and, imitating the Indians in it, 
 said to them, "I have killed enough of your people, and 
 am willing to die; just kill me at once!" But this did 
 not suit their ideas of revenge; they must burn him by 
 inches, and kindled a fire to do it. He saw their de- 
 sign, and knew the result, unless he could escape by 
 some stratagem. He could talk in their own hingunge, 
 and laughed at them as a set of old women, to burn a 
 man whom thej" dared not kill at once. 
 
 At length he told them that he saw he must die, 
 and the secret of his success in killing so many of them 
 would be of no more use to him, and if they would take 
 a rifle-barrel out of the stock, and heat it red-hot, he 
 would eat it, and show them the secret. 
 
 This took their curiosity, and the rifle-barrel was 
 soon in the fire. They had stacked their loaded rifles 
 against a tree, and formed a ring around him, having 
 first divested him of all his clothing, intending to crowd 
 him, by inches, into the fire, till he became so roasted 
 as to be unable to stand, and then throw him bodily 
 into the fire, where he would be consumed. 
 
 As soon as the rifle-barrel began to be red-hot at one 
 end he caught hold of the other, and commenced club- 
 bing them over the head. If they caught hold of the 
 heated end it burnt their hands to a crisp. He thus 
 fought his way to the loaded rifles, when he seized 
 them, one after another, and at every shot a panic- 
 stricken Indian fell, till they recovered from the shock 
 enough to run from him; he then took the best one, 
 with some ammunition, and started for home. They 
 were so sure now that he was a devil, and not to be 
 killed, that they dared not follow him. 
 
 The other brother being taken, they thought they 
 would try him and burn him in the way they intended 
 to do the first. They stripped him naked, and began 
 the pow-wow round him, pushing him nearer and nearer
 
 384 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 the fire, when, seeing a youn«^ Indian in the ring, he 
 seized him by the arm, and with one herculean spring 
 tlirew him into the fire. At the sight of this the ring 
 was broken b}- every Indian springing to the rescue, 
 when Brady made his escape. 
 
 As soon as they recovered from the sliock of this 
 cata8troj)hc, some of their fleetest men gave chase; but 
 Brady <listanced all of them but one chief, who over- 
 hauled him, and he surrendered, and wanted the chief 
 to kill him at once. "No," said he, "you must go 
 back ;" and they started at a slow gait, both being 
 wearied by the race. Brady watched his opportunity, 
 and jerked the rifle from the chief and shot him down, 
 and went on for home, with the rifle and ammunition 
 of the chief. As the other pursuers came to their dead 
 chief the}' very naturally came to the conclusion that 
 this Brady, as well as the other, was a devil, and that it 
 was not safe to pursue him further. 
 
 These Bradys, if I was correctly informed, after all, 
 died natural deaths, though those who fell by their 
 hands were mimbered by the hundred. The incidents 
 above related I received from persons personally ac- 
 quainted with the Bradys, and believed by them to 
 be facts. 
 
 In the village of Stowe, on this circuit, lived one of 
 the men who was converted from infidelity at the Ells- 
 worth camp-meeting, the year before, as has been 
 already slated. He had a brother of skeptical procliv- 
 ities, who was thrown into an unsettled state of mind, 
 relative to his views, by the conversion of this brother, 
 and he sent mo word that, as I had preached his brother 
 out of infidelity, he wished I would, if I could, preach 
 him out of it too. 
 
 In reply, 1 requested him to furnish me, on paper, 
 tlie ])oints on which he desired light, expecting some 
 few only. Instead of this he filled two sheets of letter-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 385 
 
 paper, making fourteen questions, the most intricate, 
 subtle, and ingenious that could be framed. The ap- 
 pointment had been made for me to answer them, and 
 they were quite widely known before I saw them, and I 
 had but a few hours to prepare for the task, after receiv- 
 ing them. Some who saw them thought them to be 
 unanswerable, and a respectable local brother said it 
 would take a god to answer some of them. 
 
 The noise of the appointment had drawn some peo- 
 ple from eight miles distance, and all lesser distances. 
 The church was not large, but crowded almost to suifo- 
 cation, above and below. Tiie weather was cold, and 
 the house had been warmed to a comfortable tempera- 
 ture before any one, except the sexton, entered it; but 
 when it was filled with human beings the animal 
 heat so increased the warmth of the room as to render 
 it quite uncomfortable; yet the crowded mass remained 
 for three hours and five minutes, listening to the 
 discourse. 
 
 I began by stating that it was usual in preaching 
 to take a text from the Bible, and prove or illustrate its 
 doctrines from books, newspapers, etc. But I should, 
 for this time, take my text from the two sheets of paper 
 which I held in hand, and prove my doctrine from the 
 Bible. I was. as I said, three hours and five minutes 
 in answering the questions. The heat of the house was 
 such that I perspired till my under-clothing was com- 
 pletely saturated with moisture. After meeting I drank 
 at least half a gallon of water, tea, etc., before retiring to 
 rest, and such was the exhausted state of my body, that 
 my system absorbed the whole of it without any appar- 
 ent increase of the secretions. 
 
 The next morning I met the gentleman who sent me 
 the questions, who desired me to give them back to 
 him. "for," said he, '-I did not know how they would 
 look in the pulpit. And," he continued, •'• if I get them 
 
 33
 
 386 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 back, no man will ever get the like from mo again to 
 take into the pulpit." 
 
 I toM him that I should like to keep them as a 
 curiosity, but I would not use them to his disadvantage. 
 
 '' O, well." said lie, "if you don't use them in con- 
 nection with my name, I do n't care about them. But," 
 he continued, "I must give it uj), and shall advocate 
 my former sentiments no more." 
 
 In April, 1832, I went by stage to Baltimore) 
 Maryland, on my way to General Conference. From 
 Pittsburg we traveled in the night, and reached Bed- 
 ford, Pennsylvania, for breakfast. As I was getting 
 into the stage the landlord, knowing me to be a 
 minister, placed a lady pas.sengei', who was then in the 
 stage, under my jn-otection, without asking mo or 
 giving me an introduction. It was, perhaps, etiquette 
 to impose such a chaige upon a clergyman, nolens volens. 
 There were two of them sitting u})on the back or best 
 scat in the stage, dressed so nearly alike that I could not 
 tell which the ^a^j/ was, nor which the waiting-maid ; 
 but being ])laced on the same seat — there being nine of 
 us and a bab}' inside the coach — and the one next to me 
 having the baby. I made the sad nustake of taking her 
 to be the lady. 
 
 I had from early 30uth resolved to keep mj'self at a 
 res]»cetful distance from females, except my own wife 
 and family; so that if any of the slanderous stories 
 told on Methodist preachers were told on me, they 
 should be made out of whole cloth. I would, b}' undue 
 familiarity, give no grounds for suspicion. Owing to 
 tiiis caution I was nevir what some people call suf- 
 ficiently ])olite or attentive to the ladies. If I had 
 been, j)erhaps I hhould have distinguished between the 
 lady and her maid, and not havo eoiujuittcd so grave 
 a blunder. 
 
 The one sitting next to me held the babe, from
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 387 
 
 which I inferred that she was its mother, and to be as 
 polite as possible. I opened, or attempted to open a con- 
 versation with her by some commonplace remarks. 
 But I soon found my mistake. I saw the lady's frown, 
 and in attempting to correct the error and make my- 
 self agreeable to her, as she was placed under my 
 special protection, I met with a cold scowl. There was, 
 however, a gentleman, a bachelor, on the middle seat 
 who understood the thing better than I did, and soon 
 made himself agreeable to her. He noticed, chirruped, 
 and even took the babj^ in his lap. When we dined, 
 the lad}' handed Jiim the money to pay for her and the 
 maid's dinner, instead of me, though I was standing 
 nearer to her than he was ; and when we reached 
 Chfimbersburg, the lady's brother being in waiting for 
 her, she neither introduced me to him nor thanked me 
 for my nominal care and protection. 
 
 The tiling of itself was of no consequence, further 
 than it exhibits human nature. She was, as I learned, 
 the wife of a Pittsburg merchant, and felt the dignity 
 of lier position in society; and to be placed under the 
 protection of such an awkward clown, that did not 
 know tiie difference between a lady and her waiting- 
 maid, was not to be tolerated. 
 
 On reaching Baltimore we met several of the preach- 
 ers of that city, who were waiting the arrival of delegates 
 to direct them to their lodgings for the Saturday and 
 Sabbath of our stay. The late Stephen G. Eoszel took 
 me to his home, and introduced me to his family as the 
 veritable "Silas Hopewell" of the "Itinerant." And 
 they expressed a high degree of satisfaction at seeing me. 
 
 The next day being Saturday, and there being a 
 large number of delegates in the city from the South 
 and West, the strangers, of course, must do the preach- 
 ing on the ensuing Sabbath, and slips were printed and 
 circulated, containing the several appointments. Some
 
 388 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 of the Radicals, in Iookin«^ over the list saw my name, 
 and exclaimed, as if ahirnied, " O, that's Silas Hope- 
 well !" showing, as 1 was told, a disposition to keep 
 out of my way. 
 
 After tilling ni}' appointment at three oxdoeU, P. M., 
 on Sunday, at the old Eutaw Church, brother S. J.. 
 D(^ui:lass, of Tennessee, said he had a special messatce 
 for me to take tea at his lod<^ini^s, an<l I must go. I 
 did so, and as we entered the house he introduced me to 
 the good sister as "brother Brunson." She received 
 me courteously and respectfully, but no ways warmly. 
 But when the good brother came in from meeting his 
 class I was introduced to him as "Silas Hopewell." 
 
 At this the good sister sprang to her feet and 
 exclaimed, "Why did n't you tell me it was Silas H'ope- 
 well? I don't know any thing about brother Brunson, 
 it is Silas Hopewell that I wanted to see;" and came 
 forward and clasping my hand, gave it a hearty shak- 
 ing. The Radical controvers}' was yet fresh in their 
 minds, and the part I had taken in it was the cause of 
 these attentions. 
 
 Among the delegates from Tennessee was an odd 
 ge»)ius. since then widely known in the worhl by the 
 cognomen of " Parson Brownlow." He was eompara- 
 tively a young man to be a delegate, but his future 
 lias proved that his brethren did not misjudge of his 
 talents in electing him. His a|)])ointment on this Sab- 
 bath, in Baltimore, was in the State- Prison, at three 
 o'clock, P. M., to preach to the ]>risoners and such 
 citizens as should attend. 
 
 The warden was a Methodist, and provided this 
 service on his own account, there being then no statutory 
 provision for it. After preaching he invited Brownlow 
 to stay to tea. He did so, and while waiting, as he told 
 me the next day, he wrot<} to a friend in Tennessee, as 
 follows :
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 389 
 
 "Maryland Penitektiabt, 1 
 Baltimore, April 29, 1832. J 
 
 "Dear Brother, — You sec by the date of this 
 where I am. I need not tell you how it happened, or 
 by what means I got here. It is enough, at present, 
 for you to know that I am here. You will, no doubt, be 
 surprised to learn it, but so it is. It is hard telling what 
 a man is coming to," etc. And then gave some direc- 
 tions as to his affairs, as if he were to stay there. 
 
 '• Why," said I, " did n't you explain yourself?" 
 
 "Not a word; but I put one of the printed slips 
 containing our appointments into the letter, and he may 
 find out by that, or wait till I get home." 
 
 On Monday we all went by steam-boat to the head 
 of the Chesapeake Bay, or near it, and then by a horse- 
 railroad to the Delaware. In the cars were twenty-four 
 passengers, each, the cars being drawn by one horse, at 
 the rate of ten miles an hour, the horse being changed 
 about every four or five miles. The rails apj^eared to 
 be on a dead level, and the cars moved very easily; 
 indeed, at that early date of railroads it was not known 
 that even an engine could ascend a slight grade with a 
 train of cars behind it; but now they ascend grades 
 from eighty to one hundred feet in tiie mile. 
 
 On reaching the Delaware we were hustled into an- 
 other steamer, and were soon off for the "City of Broth- 
 erl}^ Love." Dinner was soon announced, and then a 
 rush to get to the table. Some of the preachers at- 
 tempted to ask a blessing from God on the food, but no 
 one could hear it five feet off. Unlike our Western 
 steamers, where the passage includes eating and sleep- 
 ing, we had to pay half a dollar for our dinners, besides 
 the passage. 
 
 On reaching the wharf at Philadelphia, we found it 
 crowded with preachers, expecting the delegates; there 
 were also crowds upon crowds of hackmen, idlers, and
 
 390 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 lookcr.s-on. On this account Rev. B. Weed's stentorian 
 voice directed tlie delegates to remain on board, to be 
 directed to tlieir lodgings; and before I was awaro of it, 
 liis large ai'in was around my ne(;k, with an affectionate 
 salutation. His wife was m}'' sister. I had not seen 
 them in sixteen years. Our meeting, of course, was 
 ])leasant, and my sta}' with them very agreeable. 
 
 At this })eriod the Methodist Episcopal Church ex- 
 tended over the wliole of the United States. There were 
 two hundred delegates elected, very few of whom failed 
 to attend. The wisest and best of the ministry are 
 generally jn-esumed to be elected to such Church coun- 
 cils, though, like other elections, it is not always the 
 case. It is the most popular men who get the most 
 votes, whether they are the wisest or not. This body 
 of ministers, as a whole, commanded a high degree of 
 respect for talent and the powers of debate. An emi- 
 nent statesman, resident in the city, attended in the 
 gallery, day after day, and was heard to say he never 
 heard abler debating in Congress, and was never more 
 interested. Yet the frailties of human nature were 
 visible, even here. 
 
 Stephen G. Roszel, of Baltimore Conference, and who 
 lived in a slave State, iiitroduced a resolution of in- 
 quiry whether any thing more could bo done for our 
 colored membership, in the way of promoting their 
 s)tiritual and mental interests. The resolution said 
 nothing about the abstract question of slavery, nor did 
 it even hint at it, but contemplated only their improve- 
 ment, inorall}^ religiously, and intellectually. 
 
 At tliis some of the more Southern delegates took 
 tire, and a <U'bate upon the abstract question of slaver}' 
 ensued, and lasted, off and on, about a week, when the 
 subject was dropped just where it began. The delegates 
 from Virginia, coming as they did from the countr}' 
 where Nat. Turner, and about forty unarmed negroes,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 391 
 
 had panic-struck tens of thousands by wliat was magni- 
 fied into an insurrection, at Southampton, rather favored 
 the abolition of slaver^'. It was the men of South Car- 
 olina and Georg-ia who were so afraid of giving spirit- 
 ual and mental culture to the slave. Such was the 
 sensitiveness of the public mind upon this subject, and 
 especially those in the slave regions, that the slightest 
 allusion to the race held in bondage, whether it be in 
 Church or State, was like the spark thrown upon pow- 
 der — an explosion was sure to follow. This, of itself, 
 shows the evil of the system per se. Any thing that is 
 not evil, and only evil, and that continually, can not 
 oppose the spiritual and mental elevation of any part of 
 the human race. 
 
 Another question came up about pews and free seats 
 in our churches. The Eastern men wanted the rule of 
 Discipline on this subject to be so amended as to allow 
 those who built churches to control this matter, and 
 have pews or free seats, or both, as they saw fit, so that 
 the deed of settlement secured to the itinerant the right 
 to the pulpit. They alleged that they could build pewed 
 houses where they could build no other, and that it was 
 better to have such houses than none at all. 
 
 This roused up the South and the West to a perfect 
 storm. Letters were sent to Baltimore, and some other 
 places, and public meetings were called, and remon- 
 strances and protests were largely signed against this 
 "fearful innovation" upon our time-honored usages in 
 this matter. This was also ably debated for about a 
 week, and then indefinitely post2)oned, upon the ground 
 that the rule was only advisory, and had not the au- 
 thority or force of a law. 
 
 On this question our Baltimore brethren thought 
 that the New England minority should bow in submis- 
 sion to the will of the majority, which should pervade 
 the whole Church, so as to preserve its unity in usage,
 
 892 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 88 well as in failli. But in 18C0 and '61 tlic sons of 
 those men, and some of the same men, thought and acted 
 very differently upon the slavery question. Instead of 
 doing as they wished their New Enijland brethren to do, 
 in reference to the pew question, they did exactly the 
 opposite, on a question involving interests of infinitely 
 more importance than that of pews or free seats in our 
 churches. But such was the genius of slavery; the 
 minority must rule, or ruin ail. 
 
 Another question came up on the presentation of 
 petitions for a rule to prevent any and all of our minis- 
 tr}* from roceivini^ doctorates from any litciary institu- 
 tions. We had tiicn but few D. D.'s among us; but the 
 petitions, and the motion based upon them, made quito 
 a fuss. Able speeches were made, pro and con, and con- 
 tinued for several days. 
 
 At length James B. Finley said that "he believed it 
 to be a foolish waste of time to debate such a question; 
 the colleges and universities would do as the}' ])leased, 
 and would honor such ministers as they thought worthy 
 of it, and the ministers would do as they pleased about 
 accepting the honors, and no rule that we could make 
 wouhi prevent it. For himself he cared nothing about 
 it, whether the colleges thus recognized our ability to 
 teach divinity or not. If they did so, it was well; if 
 the}- did not, it did no harm; for the fact was that wo 
 were all doctors of divinity, and the world knew it. 
 We have been doctoring the divinity of the countr}"^ for 
 half a century or more, and have got it into a conva- 
 lescent slate, and if people would let us alone we should 
 cure it entirel}-." 
 
 Some wanted a rule, it we had any upon the sub- 
 ject, to make every preacher who graduated to elders' 
 orders a I). J)., which ^vould be virtually indorsing 
 him as being cajiablo of teaching divinity, which the 
 doctorate imi»lied.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 393 
 
 Finally, Dr. M. Enter said, that "he was the first 
 Methodist minister that received that honor from a 
 literary institution in America. It was conferred on 
 hira. unsought, by the Transylvania University of Ken- 
 tucky-, but he was not aware that it had made him any 
 wiser or better, nor liad it done him any harm. He did 
 not know that he preached any better, or any worse, 
 nor did it confer on him any special gifts or talents. It 
 had its influence with a certain class of the community, 
 and gave him an access to that class that he could not 
 otherwise have, while he was not aware that those who 
 opposed the reception of such honors heard him with 
 any the less profit on account of it. It served to shut 
 the mouths of that class who treated us, as a body, 
 with contempt, because we had no such honors. It 
 was a matter of taste with the colleges, the preachers 
 and the people, and we could make no rule that could 
 prevent it or control it. The Scriptures recognized the 
 doctorate in the ministry, and for us to say that it 
 should not be so, would be in conflict with the Word 
 of God. He, therefore, moved the indefinite postpone- 
 ment of the whole subject;" which carried by a large 
 majority, and thus ended another debate and discus- 
 sion that amounted to nothing. 
 
 The temperance cause received due attention, but 
 we could not obtain a two -thirds vote to change the 
 General Eule, by restoring Mr. Wesley's original rule, 
 on the use of spirituous liquors. This was not because 
 any one favored intemperance; but they thought the 
 rule, as it stood, was sufficiently stringent, as it prohib- 
 ited the use of such liquors, unless in cases of necessity. 
 
 At this Conference were elected and ordained two 
 new Bishops, Andrew and Emory. It was by common 
 consent agreed that one should be from the North and 
 one from the South, and that the delegations from each 
 section should select their own candidate.
 
 894 A WKSTERN PIONKER. 
 
 In the North Dr. Fisk was the man to fill the ])lace, 
 in the estimation of a majority, hut he peremptorily re- 
 fused to accept of it. His reasons were good and sound, 
 and showed not only the purity of his heart, but the 
 < orrcctness of his judgment in such cases. He said 
 that A/.v jilaec was in the college, or in educating the 
 vouth of the Church. Others could till the Bishop's 
 iiair as well or better than he could, who could not 
 trarh as well. But if he left the Weslevan University, 
 there was none to fill his place. Educators were not 
 as plent}' among us then as they arc now. 
 
 Dr. N. Bangs was talked of, and talked to. for the 
 <»ffice, but he also utterly refused, on account of fatnily 
 afflictions, which were of a nature that demanded his 
 special attention and ))resence. So the choice fell upon 
 l)r. John fjuory. 
 
 In the South, Dr. William Capers being then the 
 most prominent man in that region, was first thought 
 of But he declined the honor, because he was an un- 
 willing slave-holder. It was understood and agreed, 
 even in the vSouth at that time, that no slave-holder 
 shouM till the Episcopal office. Mr. Capers inherited 
 slaves, but the laws of the State in which ho lived 
 would not allow of emancipation. He wished to send 
 them to Africa, but they were so intermarried with 
 other slave families, that he could not send away his 
 slaves without breaking up family relations. He wa.«» 
 not able to buy the wives and children, nor the bus 
 bands owned by others, so as to emancipate the family, 
 and therefore had to submit to a disagreeable necessity 
 in remaining the Uujnl owner of slaves. But he did the 
 next best thing he could to emancijiation ; that is, ho 
 appointed a trustee, to whom he gave the charge of 
 his slaves, to hire them out to as good employers as 
 could be found, allowing the slaves to have the wages 
 they earned. As he could not change his legal rela-
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 395 
 
 tion to slaves, he utterly refused the use of his name 
 for the Episcopacy; but he recommended James O. 
 Andrew, who he said did not own a slave, nor did his 
 father, so that there was no ground to fear that he 
 would become a slave-holder by inheritance. Under 
 these circumstances, and with a view to keep the 
 Episcopacy pure from this dark stain, Mr. Andrew was 
 elected. 
 
 But what a change came over the spirit of their 
 dreams in twelve short years! Andrew had lost his 
 wife, and married another who was a slave-holder, 
 which led to the Southern secession from the Church. 
 Capers became a Bishop, and it was said that even 
 Bishop Soule, who went with them, was compelled to 
 accept of a slave or two, from some benevolent friends, 
 to do his menial service! So that all their Bishops, in- 
 cluding Bascom, who formerly thundered so eloquently 
 against the "sum of all villainies," were, or became 
 slave-holders, and contended that the sj'stem had divine 
 authority. 
 
 But this is not the end of that awful change. It is 
 said by those who have the means of knowing, such as 
 "Parson Brownlow," that those Southern Methodist 
 preachers, by advocating the system, and its direful 
 eft'ects, did more to bring about the late Southern rebell- 
 ion — under pretense of secession of States, as they had 
 of Conferences from the Church — than any other class 
 of men on that polluted soil. They did more because 
 there were more of them, and because of their greater 
 influence, which grew out of their numerical strength 
 and superior talents. No well-informed person doubts 
 that if those Southern Methodist preachers had not 
 fomented the rebellion, it would not have occurred. 
 The statesmen who led in it could not have carried the 
 mass of the people with them, if those preachers had 
 been against them, nor if they had been neutral. It
 
 396 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 was onlj through tlic influence of these fallen minis- 
 ti rs that Jeftei-son Davis and company could control 
 the ninsses in their I'avor. 
 
 Ill all this we sec the fearful consequences of taking 
 one false step. They screened Andrew and then se- 
 ceded, tliat Bishops and proachei-s might be slave-hold- 
 ers. Then they must justify their course, by advocat- 
 ing and defending the system, on account of which 
 they went otf from among us, and when from the 
 course of things it became manifest that the domain 
 of slavery must be curtailed instead of enlarged, they 
 counseled a secession of States, alias rebellion and 
 treason, which led to all the horrors and expenses of 
 civil wai-. 
 
 At that Conference, also, we had a long debate on 
 tiie Canada question. Our brethren in that Province 
 were under the necessity of becoming independent of 
 tlie Church in the States, or thej' would have to sutler 
 many inconveniences from their civil rulers, who feared 
 tli.it piditical evils, to them, would grow out of a con- 
 n«M'li«»n of the Conference with those of the States. In 
 1S28 the Ceneral Conference consented to the separa- 
 tion ; and in 1S32 a delegation from the Canada Confer- 
 t'Mce chiimed a ])r<) rata share of the Book Concern. Dr. 
 lOmory opposed the claim on the ground that if granted 
 it would be a precedent, of which even a secession 
 might take advantjige. He also raised technical and 
 I. gal objections under thtj Restrictive Uules, and the 
 claim was rejected. But though this Conference re- 
 fused it as a right, yet a ])lan was adopted by which 
 tliey received an e(jual if not greater benefit in the sale 
 to them of books at a price below what it wouhl have 
 cost them to print. 
 
 On this Canada (jucstion, 1 believe the Southern 
 delegates were unanimously against it, notwithstanding 
 that Conference acted in accordance with the consent
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 397 
 
 of the General Conference. But they feared the prec- 
 edent; yet, strange to tell, these very Southern men, 
 twelve years after, went out from us violently, and then 
 claimed the very thing they refused to grant to the 
 Canada Conference ! And they obtained it in a Court 
 under j)i*c>-slaver3' influences, on the very ground on 
 which Canada claimed it, that is, a plan of sepa- 
 ration agreed upon, though that plan afterward was 
 disannulled! 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AT the Greneral Conference of 1832 I saw and heard 
 Bishop M'Keudree for the last time. At the re- 
 quest of the Conference the Bishop preached the funeral 
 sermon of Bishop George, who had died in the inter- 
 val of the General Conference. He was very infirm, 
 not able to ascend the pulpit stairs in the "Academy," 
 afterward called the "Union Church," and Bishops 
 Soule and Heading assisted him in ascending to the 
 desk, one under each arm, as Aaron and Hur held up 
 the hands of Moses. 
 
 The discourse was characteristic of the Bishop, and 
 made a lasting impression. The scene was a very af- 
 fecting one. One beloved and respected Bishop had 
 died ; another, trembling over the grave, and not ex- 
 pected to see another General Conference, was per- 
 forming the last sad office for the dead. Thus our 
 fathers were going, one after another; many, if not 
 all, wept. 
 
 The closing scene of the Conference was much like 
 that of other deliberative bodies in a great hurry to get 
 awa}". The last day had come. The unfinished business 
 required a full day more, but such was the anxiety of 
 the delegates to leave for home, that a night session was
 
 398 A WKSTKKN IMONEER. 
 
 Lulled lor. Then the question came up, whether the 
 Bi8hop8, eitlier of them, could occupy the chair. Not 
 one of the older ones felt able, after lour weeks of close 
 attention to business all day, to sit there half or more 
 < I' tlie nii^^ht. This brought the matter to a stand, till 
 llishop JOmory sij^nilifd his willingness to take the chair, 
 when the night session was determined on. As usual, 
 in such cases, business was hurried through without 
 much thought or consideration ; but as most of it had 
 been some time on hand, and, of course, been thought 
 of, perhaps it was well done. About midnight we gave 
 the parting hand and scattered to the four winds, 
 never all to meet again till the general judgment. 
 
 I'or sixteen 3ear8 previous to this visit to the sea- 
 lioMid.I had not tasted of sea-food. Having been raised 
 within its reach, it was very acceptable and agree- 
 able — IVesh shad and other sea-fish ; oysters, clams, etc., 
 of which my good sister gave me an ample suj>ply. 
 
 Alter the Conference adjourned, I remained one 
 day to lest and visit, and at two o'clock the m-xt morn- 
 ing took the last line of stages for Pittsburg. In twen- 
 t\ four hours we reached Chambersburg, one hundred 
 and fifty miles from Philadelphia, not having stopped 
 to rest a moment. Our eating, three meals, had to be 
 (lone ill fifteen minutes, each. The remaining one 
 h Mildred and filly miles to Pittsburg, being over the 
 mountains, reijuired thirty hours, making filly-lbur 
 li(»urs in getting through, then the quickest trip ever 
 made. The only sleep we got in this fifty-four hours, 
 which was but little, was taken in the stage. Of 
 course, at Pittsburg I neede<l some rest, and went to 
 the house of my old friend, brother Verner, father-in- 
 law to P.ishop Simpson, and slej>t a good i>art of the 
 twrnty hi)urs I had to spare before leaving for home, 
 which I reached the night following, being seventy 
 miles from Pittsburg.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 399 
 
 This was before the inauguration of railroads, and 
 for that time was the fastest traveling by land that 
 could be had; as much of the road was rough, it was 
 not very comfortable; and if railroads and cushioned 
 coaches were now to be struck out of being, and the 
 traveling public were to be thrown back upon the old 
 stages of that day, it w^ould be deemed hard fare. 
 
 On my way home in the stage, I fell in company 
 with a gentleman from Utica, New York, of whom I 
 inquired, and from whom I learned of the death of my 
 uncle, Ezra Starr Cozier, who was or had been Mayor 
 of that city. He was the second victim of the cholera, 
 which reached that city that season. Up to that time 
 and place, the contagion had fallen mostly upon the 
 intemperate, but here, it was said, the temperate were 
 taken first. 
 
 He was fearful of death, if the contagion should 
 reach that place, and had his trunks packed to leave 
 ibr higher and healthier ground on the first appear- 
 ance of the disease. But he was taken with it before 
 he had heard of the attack upon his friend, of like po- 
 sition in society, and who died but a few minutes be- 
 fore he did. How important to be always ready, '-for 
 the Son of man cometh in an hour when ye think not !" 
 
 On reaching my circuit — Cleveland — the news that 
 the cholera was making rapid strides westward, and was 
 expected along the lake, gave rise to universal alarm. 
 Emigration up the lake was then by the thousand. 
 Every vessel was crowded with passengers, a large 
 portion of whom were from foreign countries, and 
 great fears prevailed of the approach of the disease by 
 this means. Every precaution was taken in Cleveland 
 and other lake towns to ward off the calamity. But 
 as the disease seemed to move in the atmosphere, and 
 overleap all quarantines, guards, and sanitary defenses, 
 none of these things prevented its onward motion.
 
 400 A WFSTKRN PIONEER. 
 
 One night as I was lodging in Euclid, the family- 
 was aroused and alarmed about two o'clock, A. M.,b3' a 
 neighhor who re))orted that a large brig was landing 
 torcign einigi-aiits on the point. sup)>osed to have the 
 • lioleru among them, and that the town authorities had 
 ordered a guard to be so placed as to prevent them 
 from coming into the settlements and thus spread the 
 disease, at the same time doing all that could be done 
 for their comfort and health. The good brother and 
 his neighbors started for this service, and before they 
 returned 1 left for Cleveland. 
 
 I found that a messenger had also been sent to 
 Cleveland to give the alarm, for I met, about half-way, 
 say four miles, a doctor and several others, who in- 
 quired about the stor}'. They continued on their 
 journey, but were soon back with the report that there 
 was no landing of sick emigrants. The brig was out 
 of wood, and sent the boat ashore to pick up some 
 drifl-wood along the beach. Some one seeing this im- 
 agined all the rest, and raised the alarm. 
 
 In July, 1832, we held a camp-meeting about four 
 miles from Cleveland, in hopes to reach somebody 
 from that wicked city. It was deemed prudent not to 
 include a Sabbath day in the time of holding it, lest 
 the rowdy )»art of the population should avail them- 
 selves of it to annoy us. But the result showed that 
 there was very little difference in the days; for when 
 tiie sons of God present themselves before the Lord. 
 Satan is most likel}' to be there also, and if he or his 
 childien can't have the Sabbath for it, they will take 
 some other day. 
 
 Wednesday seemed to be the general holiday for 
 that class, and we were fairly overrun with them. As 
 tlu'3' must sjiend onr night, at least, upon the ground, 
 that night was selected for their siijlit-seeing. 
 
 To attempt to close public worship and retire to
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 401 
 
 the tent for rest was a hopeless idea, for our visitors 
 had no tents nor friends vvho had, and they were en- 
 tirely too numerous to be accommodated by the tent- 
 holders. Our only remedy, therefore, was to keep their 
 attention toward the stand as long as possible, say, till 
 midnight or after, when we supposed that most likely 
 they would leave for their homes. 
 
 To accomplish this we had a long sermon from the 
 longest-winded man on the ground, which was followed 
 by some half a dozen exhortations — interspersed with 
 singing — by the loudest son of thunder we had among 
 us. It fell to my lot to give the last of these exhorta- 
 tions in which I talked about an hour, and told all the 
 fearful and alarming anecdotes I could call to mind, 
 many of which were enough to raise the hair upon a 
 sinner's head, and make the blood chill in his veins. 
 
 About two o'clock, A. M., we closed and dismissed 
 the congregation, requesting the people to retire to their 
 tents, if they had any, and if not, to their homes. But 
 after all who had tents had retired, the ground was still 
 overrun with stragglers, to watch whom required all the 
 membership of the male sex present. 
 
 To learn how things w^ent on outside of the camp, 
 and especially in the public highway, which was some 
 twenty rods from the tents, 1 took a bi'other preacher 
 with me, and we mingled with the crowed in the dark, 
 unnoticed by them, as they left the ground. In passing 
 to the road, through the woods, we heard their remarks, 
 at some of which we could but smile, however much we 
 mourned over their obdurate sinfulness. 
 
 One gang of sailors were just behind us discussing 
 the merits of the preaching and exhortations. One of 
 them said, using a profane word, "Those Methodist 
 preachers are the greatest liars I ever heard. They can 
 tell more yarns than any old salt I ever saw, and that 
 last one beats all the rest. If I owed the devil twenty 
 
 34
 
 402 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 Iiai*8, ami ho wouldn't take liim for it. I would clieat 
 him out of tlic debt." 
 
 Wo, on the whole, succeeded in preserving pretty 
 ^ood order. Tlie rowd)' part of the people present did 
 not seem to be vicious, hut the}' wished to see and hear 
 what was going on, and to have some amusement. 
 
 The meeting, liowever, was the means of doing con- 
 siderable good. There were prohabl}- fifty conversions, 
 and a general quickening of the membership. One 
 occurrence is well worth recording. At the saci*ament 
 of the Lord's-Suppor it was stated that this was not a 
 Methodist table, but the Lords table; and all the 
 Lord's people were invited to partake with us. It was 
 a Christian duty to whittle down the differences between 
 Christians to as narrow a point as po.ssible, and to 
 unite on all points on which we do agree. Here was 
 one on which all orthodox Christians agreed, and on 
 this we could and ought to meet. 
 
 There was upon the ground a man of fourscore or 
 more years, who had enjoyed the meeting very well, 
 having several children among us happy in the Lord. 
 The old pilgrim came forward, leaning upon his staff, 
 and said, '• I am a regular Baj)tist, and I suppose m}' 
 brethren will chide, but I can 't help it. I see my Lord's 
 table spread before me, and am invited to eat, and I 
 must do it." Conforming his actions to his words, he 
 kneeled down and received the consecrated elements 
 much to his comfort. I was told that his brethren did 
 chide him, but finding that public sentiment was in his 
 favor, and as l^e was an old man. just verging over the 
 grave, they conclude*! to let him ]^:iss with a sim])lo 
 admonition. 
 
 We had some increase this year, and the circuit was 
 divided, and out of it was formed two four-weeks' 
 circuits. 
 
 Our Conterence this year (^ls;i2j met in Wellsburg.
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 403 
 
 Virginia, on ihe Ohio River. In going to it I attended 
 a camj^-meeting at Castleman's Eun, eight miles back 
 of that city, and two and a half from Bethany, the resi- 
 dence of Alexander Campbell. Mr. Campbell was in 
 attendance, to whom I had an introduction, and witli 
 whom I had a long conversation on the debate then 
 pending between him and Owen, who was called "the 
 grand Turk," on account of his hostilitj' to the Christian 
 religion. 
 
 He said that Owen paid him a visit on his way to 
 Europe, in which he felt of him a little to try his 
 caliber. In one of their walks in the field they passed 
 the family cemetery, when Mr. Owen, pointing to it, 
 said, "There is one point in which we infidels have the 
 advantage of you Christians; we have no fear in death." 
 Mr. Campbell asked him if he had any hope in death. 
 Owen hesitated a moment, when he said, " No." "Well, 
 then," responded Campbell, " 3'ou are just on a level 
 with tliat ox. He stands in the shade whisking oft' the 
 flies, and he has neither hope nor fear in death." 
 
 At my hour to preach I invited him to a seat on the 
 stand, intending to get upon his toes in my discourse 
 on the subject of experimental religion, and to show 
 him that grace was not necessaril}' connected with Gos- 
 pel ordinances, however important those ordinances 
 might be as means of grace. I argued this from Script- 
 ure and from the facts of experience. 
 
 Among the facts related was that of a young lawyer, 
 a son of General Moore, of Beaver, Pennsylvania, who 
 was known to Campbell and many others upon the 
 ground. Young Moore was skeptical when in health, 
 but when death stared him in the face, he became 
 anxious for his soul's salvation. His mother was pious ; 
 his father was not at that time a professor of religion, 
 but a believer in it, and afterward a partaker of it. 
 A pious sister was lying under the same fatal disease,
 
 404 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 the consumption, at tlio name time, and in the same 
 house or room, but was Imppy in God's love, and in the 
 j»rospect of a better worh]. It was this, probably, that 
 led him to serious reflection. 
 
 One mornini^ his father came into his room and 
 inquired after his health. "I am no better, father, in 
 bod}', but I am better in soul." 
 
 "How is that, my son ?" 
 
 "Why, God, for Christ's sake, has pardoned all my 
 sins." 
 
 " But, ni}' son, you are about to chan^^e worlds, and 
 it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the 
 Almighty. Give me a reason of the hope that is 
 in you." 
 
 ' Well, father, I was l^ing here last night thinking of 
 my approach to the grave, and to the judgment-seat of 
 Christ, and that I was not prepared for it. I saw my- 
 self a sinner, and lost forever, unless God. in mercy, 
 should ])a]-doii me. While thus meditating and query- 
 ing what to do, this text struck my mind, 'Come unto 
 me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest.' And I thought that /was of the character 
 to whom that ])romise was made; I was laboring and 
 heavy laden. I thought also of the condition upon 
 which he piomiscd the rest, 'Come unto me.' I 
 thought that I had come unto him in praj'er, in the best 
 way I knew how. Then I thought of his immutability, 
 that he could not lie. lie had said to such a character, 
 (.'ome unto me and I will give you rest,' and I believed 
 he would, and he did." 
 
 "Now," said I, "here is a case generally known 
 throughout this part of the country. No one who is 
 acquainted with the circumstances can for a moment 
 doubt the genuineness of the young nian's eonversion, 
 ;in<l that, too, without the intervention of an ordinance 
 ot the Gospel. To have taken him from his bed and
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 405 
 
 immersed him in water, when he was not able to sit 
 up, would have been to kill him. But he obtained par- 
 don without it, and died happy. Therefore immersion, 
 or baptism in any mode or form, or by any hands, can 
 not be essential or necessary to the forgiveness of sins." 
 
 I was told that Campbell, who sat behind me, and, 
 of course, not in my sight, was very restless under the 
 discourse, and kept hitching about as if on nettles. He 
 went home in company- with his wife and one of our 
 brethren, who lived a little beyond him. Mrs. Camp- 
 bell and the brother conversed together all the way, but 
 Mr. Campbell spoke only twice in going the two and a 
 half miles, and then all that he said was, "I don't 
 know about'that young man." From this it was evident 
 that he saw and felt the force of the argument based 
 upon the fact related. 
 
 In two days after our Conference began its session 
 in Wellsburg, eight miles from Campbell's residence. 
 He came into the place and invited the Conference to 
 hear him, alleging that he perceived that some of our 
 ministers did not rightly understand his doctrines, and 
 he wished to have an opportunity to explain himself 
 Though it came to us in Conference, in his own hand- 
 writing, and in the name of an invitation, 3'et at the 
 same time he had posters stuck up all around town in 
 the nature of a challenge to the Conference. 
 
 He went to his father-in-law, who was the sole 
 trustee of the Campbellite Church in the place, for the 
 use of it for the expected discussion ; but his father- 
 in-law refused to let him have it, sa3'ing. '-I have given 
 it up to the Methodists during the Conference, who 
 have come here to do business, and you have no right to 
 interfere with them." Upon this he appointed his 
 meeting in the court-house. 
 
 When his invitation challenge was presented to the 
 Conference, I-*felt a desire to hear him and reply to
 
 406 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 him ; but Bifiliop Emor}-, wlio presided, objected to 
 having any debates or controvei-sy at the Conference. 
 He Buid we Imd come there to do business; man}' of the 
 preachers were entertained by the Baptists, and he 
 thought it to bo inipro)>er for us to controvert their doc- 
 trines wliile enjoying their liospitalities. He advised 
 that we have a session that afternoon, at the l>our of tlie 
 meeting or time appointed for it, two o'clock. This sug- 
 gestion was adopted, and I afterward saw clearly that it 
 was the better wa}-, for tlje citizens, and even his own 
 people, did not go to the court-house to hear him ; and 
 not having the hearers he expected, he did not deliver 
 the discourse he had intended, and left the town at once, 
 evidently disaj)pointed and deeply chagiiniM. 
 
 This was regarded as a greater victor^', and he 
 seemed to feel more sensibly whipped than he probably 
 would if he had been met, and thoroughly elcanetl (»ut, 
 by argument. 
 
 In his movements in this matter, Mr. Campbell 
 evinced that he possessed one trait of character, at 
 least, known in Western parlance as the "big head." 
 He, or any other man, must think he is of great conse- 
 quence, to suppose that a Conference of seventy or 
 eighty ministers, who had met to transact their annual 
 business, would leave it to listen to his explanation of 
 his doctrines, because the arguments of one of the hum- 
 blest of the body had upset the theory upon which he 
 was misleading his followers! 
 
 At this Conference (1832) I was appointed to Alle- 
 ghany City, which had been a part of Pittsburg station 
 till that year. Dr. Martin Kuter and Thomas Drum- 
 mond were appointed to Pittsburg, and by an agree- 
 ment between the two stations, in dividing, a plan was 
 so arranged that we three interchanged, as if we were 
 all in one charge. The people desired this, so that in 
 iho s.'tfingr ofV ..f Alleghany City into a separate charge,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 407 
 
 they should lose nothing in the variety of preaching. 
 This brought me into one of the pulpits in Pittsburg 
 once every Sabbath, and brought one of them to m^^ 
 pulpit at the same tiuie. 
 
 There were so many appointments in the two charges 
 that most of the time we had three apiece on Sunda}^, 
 besides the week-night preachings, and prayer-meet- 
 ings, and class-meetings. This, with our necessary 
 studies, and visiting, kept us pretty well employed. 
 God blessed our united labors, and a gracious revival 
 continued most of the Winter, so that at least one hun 
 dred and fifty were added to the two charges. On some 
 Sundays, when I filled a three-o'clock appointment in a 
 suburban village, I had to travel about ten miles on 
 foot, and preach three times. This was tiresome to the 
 flesh, but produced a comfortable conscience. 
 
 Our head-quarters for the preachers' meetings were 
 at Dr. Euter's. In discussing one subject, on an inci- 
 dent in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, of England, 1 said 
 that it occurred in such a year. "No," said the Doctor, 
 "it was at such a time," naming another date. I was 
 very certain that I was correct; but he gave a signifi- 
 cant nod of the head, as much as to say, I am a D. D., 
 and have been president of a college, and wrote the 
 history of the event in question, and / know. This 
 ended the contest for that time. But at home I exam- 
 ined his Church History, and found it as I had said. 
 At m}- next visit to his house I asked him if he had 
 looked up that date? "No," he said, "I am satisfied 
 that I am right." At this I stepped up to his book- 
 case, nnd taking out his edition of Gregory asked if he 
 would admit that to be good authority? "Yes, if you 
 find it there I will give it up." I then opened at the 
 page, and showed it to him. "Well," said he, "this is 
 not the first time I have been mistaken." 
 
 There was so much humor and good sense in his
 
 408 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 reply that it took all the feathers out of my cap for the 
 victory I had obtained. 
 
 In the Spring and Sunnner of 1832 the cholera had 
 visited Pittsburg and its vicinity, and the clergy of the 
 place held a meeting, and agreed not only to pray that 
 the destroying angel might pass lightly over the place, 
 hilt, also, to recommend a day of fasting, humiliation, 
 and prayer, to be observed by all the people in the two 
 cities and their suburbs. Under this recommendation 
 mII the factories were stopped, and all the stores were 
 closed, except one; and all the shops, except one, a sad- 
 dler's, were shut, and the people generally attended 
 church. While other cities, no more exposed, but of 
 less j)raying, were visited heavily by the disea-se, Pitts- 
 burg had but few cases, and much fewer deaths. 
 
 After the contagion had passed the same course was 
 taken, and a day of thanksgiving was as religiously 
 '•bserved. 
 
 In 1833, when the same disease appeared again, a 
 similar course was j)ursued with a similar result, there 
 being but twenty-five cases, out of which five only died. 
 This was also followed by a day of thanksgiving to God 
 lor his mercy in sparing the j)eople. But on this second 
 day of fasting the merchant who had refused, the year 
 before, to close his store, was a broken merchant, and 
 had no store to close or keep open ; and the saddler who 
 refused to keep the first day was now in the peniten- 
 tiary, and compelled to observe the second fast and 
 thanksgiving, because the warden of the prison kept 
 the j)risoners in their cells, without labor. 
 
 Alter the failure of Madison College, in Uniontown, 
 our Conference had been on the lookout for another. 
 Alleghany College, at Mcadville, being dead, or having 
 no school, the trustees of it invited our Conference to 
 take the patronage of that institution. In 1831 I was 
 chairman of a committee appointed by the Conference
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 409 
 
 to visit Meadville, and confer with the trustees upon 
 the subject. The terms of their proposal were, that 
 wo should patronize it, but let them liave the run- 
 uing of it. This, we told them, would not answer our 
 purpose: if we patronized it we must have the control 
 of it, lest, if we got it under way, from some freak we 
 might be ousted from it. 
 
 They then concluded to invite the Conference to hold 
 its session there in 1833, which was done, and a better 
 result was eifected. I was again appointed on the com- 
 mittee to confer with the trustees. I informed them 
 that the only terms upon which the Conference would 
 consent to take the college were those b}' which Dick- 
 inson College, in Carlisle, had been placed under the 
 patronage of the Baltimore and Philadelphia Confer- 
 ences. The}' were, that we must have a majority of the 
 Board of Trustees, by their appointing our friends to fill 
 the vacancies then existing, and those caused by resig- 
 nations of persons who took no action in its conceriis. 
 We did not ask for an entire change in the board ; we 
 2:)referred to retain all the old members of it who lived 
 in the place, and were active in the concerns of the 
 College; but by filling vacancies, enough of our friends 
 could be appointed to give us a majority'. 
 
 The President and Secretary' of the Board were 
 Presbyterians, w^ith whom we were satisfied; tl^y filled 
 vacancies with such names as we suggested. Some few, 
 who lived at a distance, were induced to resign, and 
 our men elected, till we had a working majority in the 
 board. I told them, also, that if we could not succeed 
 in running the institution we would resign, and give it 
 back to them, and in as good condition, at least, as we 
 found it. 
 
 This College was chartered in 1816, through the 
 influence, principally, of the Rev. Mr. Alden, the Pres- 
 byterian minister of the place. Ife had procured sub-
 
 410 A WlMI.KN PIONEER. 
 
 s( rij»tionrt from tlie friuiulK of education, and donations 
 from the Slate, sufticient to erect a fine. lar«,'e, four-8tory 
 building, including tlic basement, witli Hufficient rooms 
 for library, cluipei, and recitations of two hundred 
 students, to which were added a three-.story wing on 
 each side, lor the residences of professors and teachei-s ; 
 lie had also procured a library of eight thousand vol- 
 umes of rare and excellent books. The whole property, 
 including fifteen acres of land, half a mile from the vil- 
 lage, on the slope of a hill facing the south, was valued 
 at fifty thousand dollars. 
 
 Two or three times Mr. Alden, as President, with 
 some professors to assist, had attempted to open the 
 school, but I was told that only seven students could be 
 ]>ro(ured at any one time. This, of course, could not 
 sustain the conciTn. and each time it came to a dead 
 stand. 
 
 Why he could not obtain students in a countiy with 
 a full average supply of men of education, and the 
 means to educate their childioii, was an unsolved mys- 
 tery, lie was said to be a good scholar ; he was cer- 
 tainly a gi)0(l financier, and he excelled in raising con- 
 tributions of books, etc., but that seemed to be the end 
 of his mission. 
 
 The old board strove hard to have Mr. Aiden con- 
 tinued in the Presidency, or at least to have a ])rofessor- 
 ship, in view of his interest and services in favor of the 
 institution ; but wo told them that, however much we 
 .respected Mr. Alden in the premises, the histoiy of lil- 
 riary institutions showed clearly that no one had suc- 
 « iiMled with a mixed faculty. They must be under the 
 patronage and control, through the faculty, of some one 
 denomination, or divisions and parties would be formed 
 which would end in disruption, tliscord, and i)ro8tralion. 
 
 1 referred to Dickinson College, at Carlisle, which 
 being a State institution, and to please all, or as many
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 411 
 
 as possible, had been three times started with a mixed 
 faculty, and had as many times failed. After lying idle, 
 like this College, for some years, it had fallen into the 
 hands of the Methodists, and was now prospering. 
 
 I also referred to the two State Universities of Ohio, 
 Athens and Oxford, both of which, it was said, had run 
 down under the weight of mixed faculties, and the Leg- 
 islature had to arrange the matter so that both institu- 
 tions should be controlled by the Presbyterians, and 
 were, at that time, both prospering. 
 
 By the Charter of Alleghany College, the Governor, 
 the Attorney General, and the Chief Justice of the 
 State, were ex-offieio members of the Board of Trustees. 
 Judge Gibson, the Chief Justice. Avho resided in Car- 
 lisle, and who was on his way to Erie to hold Court, 
 being advised of the question pending, spent one or 
 two days in Meadville, while this subject was under 
 consideration, and having known the state of things 
 in Carlisle, and the happy prospects now looming up 
 before old Dickinson, advised the Board to accept of 
 our proposition, affirming that mixed fiiculties had not 
 succeeded, and that all colleges of which he had any 
 knowledge did hotter in the hands of one denomina- 
 tion than when a mixed interest was involved. 
 
 The idea of our Conference holding a session in 
 this part of the State, a thing which had never occuried 
 before, drew together many of the most respectable 
 citizens of the surrounding country, not only Method- 
 ists, but others, and especially those friendly to educa- 
 tion, who wished the College to be successfully opened. 
 Learning that this question was pending, it was an ad- 
 ditional inducement for them to attend, and some of 
 them -^ lobbied" in favor of the change of hands. 
 
 It was tinally arranged to accept of our proposition. 
 In making out a list of names to fill vacancies, Bishop 
 Roberts and myself were inserted. As soon as the
 
 41 '2 A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 iroi^MiiizaiioM \v:i8 etrecled — the Board having power to 
 fill all va<aiRios — we proceeded lo elect a Faculty. Dr. 
 M. iiutcr was elected President of the Faculty, and 
 I'rolessor of Moral Science. Homer J. Clark was 
 elected Vice-President and Professor of Mathematic-*, 
 and Aui^ustus Kuter, son of the Doctor, was elected 
 ]*rofe8»4or of Lanj^ua^es. Measures were also taken to 
 open the school in the Fall, I think about Sc])teniber. 
 The school oj>ened at the time w^ith about tifty students, 
 and soon run up to one hundred. This, with the pleas- 
 ing prospects of further increase in the number, was 
 very i^ratifyinLr to the old members of the Board. 
 
 The |>residency of Bishop I^)berl8 at this Conference 
 was a cause of gratulaiion both to the Church and to 
 outsidei*s. The latter seemed to show it even more 
 than the former. The rea.son for it, particularly, was, 
 that the Bishop's former residence was only about 
 twenty miles from Meadville, and some of the citizens 
 of the town were once his neighbors. The Bishop's 
 ]»ersonal aj)pearance was grand, it was apostolic, and 
 commanded res])ect, and the manner of his presidini^ 
 showed his superior executive talents; all which made 
 the peoj)le. ic<^'nerally, feel proud that such a noble 
 specimen of humanity had gone from among them to 
 bless the Church and the world. One man in remark- 
 ing upon the ditlerence in the fortunes of men, said, 
 that ''he ha<l ol\en hunted S(juirrels and 'eoons with 
 Ml'. Roberts, but now he is a Bisijoj). and 1 am only a 
 butcher." 
 
 At this Conference (1833) I was apj>ointed to Miad- 
 lie (listrict, as presiding elder. This district then in- 
 eluded eleven circuit** and stations, all of which, e.\cej)t 
 f>ne. ha«l grown out of the old F.rie circuit, which T 
 ha<l traveled thirteen years before. 
 
 A new^ presiding elder has nothing t«» o.. m n\- 
 ing the appointments of the preachers in the district for
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 413 
 
 his first year, he must take it as presented. The Bishop, 
 liowever, was in the habit — at least, he did so twice, in 
 appointing me to new districts — of calling the new pre- 
 siding elder into the cabinet council at their last meet- 
 ing and allowing him to suggest any change in it that 
 he might desire. In this case I objected to one of the 
 preachers, he being the most troublesome man in the 
 Conference, on account of stubborn eccentricities. I 
 requested his change, but no one of the presiding elders 
 would receive him. I asked why they put their most 
 troublesome men on to me, in entering upon the du- 
 ties and responsibilities of the office for the first time? 
 TIjc answer was, "because we think you can manage 
 him better than any of us can." This was probably 
 satisfactory to them, but nnt very agreeable to me. I 
 had to remove him twice in the course of the j'ear, to 
 gratify the people who remonstrated against him. He 
 worried on a few years in this ti'oublesonie waj', but 
 was finally located without his consent. He was evi- 
 dently a good and pious man, and he had superior 
 preaching talents, but his intolerable eccentricities and 
 stubborn, set way in them, rendered him very unac- 
 ceptable to the people. 
 
 In entering upon this office I felt deeply my re- 
 sponsibilities, and trembled before Clod lest I should fail 
 to fill it with usefulness to the Church and credit to my- 
 self My views were, and still are, that an office gives 
 no honor to the incumbent, unless he honors it himself 
 
 My appointment to the district, and ni}' connection 
 now with the College, induced me to move my family 
 to Meadville, which I did at once, and my two sons 
 were placed in the school. 
 
 The great Temperance movement was now in full 
 blast, into which I entered with all my force. In my 
 quarterly-meetings I usually spent fow days each. I 
 commenced on Thursday night, holding a temperance
 
 '[[[ A WESTERN PIONEER. 
 
 iiHH'tini:, an<l ]>iviuhin^ or lecturing on the subject, 
 and orguni/iiig ft Teinpcrance Society, if none existed 
 l»eforc. Almojst invariably, if we succeeded in the tem- 
 j).rance movement, a revival of reliirion fallowed; for 
 wlien the ceil spirit was cast (»ut the good spirit usu- 
 :iliy t<M>k poBHCssion of the heart, and we had from ten 
 to iwenty conver8i«>ns at every qunrterlj' meeting. 
 
 At one quarterly meeting held in New Castle, wo 
 greatly exceeded this. Our own church, a log one, was 
 the first one built in the place, and had Irequently 
 been lent to tlie Presbyterians for their sacramental 
 occasions. Now they had a fine large brick one, and 
 ours being too small for our meeting, they could do 
 no less than lend us tbeirs to hold our quarterly-meet- 
 inic in, though but vcr}' few of their peO])le attended 
 our services. 
 
 We commenced here on Friday night, after a day of 
 fastini; and a prayer-meeting in our ohl church, and on 
 Saturday went to the other and wound uj) on Monday 
 night after midnight, having had altoiii sixty conver- 
 sions. We had preaclnngoii Friday night ; on Satunlay 
 at <'leven o'chjck. A. ^I., holding ([iiarterly conference 
 after it. and at night; on Sunday, at nine o'clock, A. M., 
 prayt-r meeting at eleven o'clock. A. M., preaching, and 
 taking up the public collection, and preaching at night. 
 We held love-feast and a speaking meeting on Monday 
 from nine o'clock, A. M., to twelve, M., the Lord's Sup- 
 ju'r at two o'clock, preceded by a di.'<course on the 
 nature, design, and obligations of it, ami preaching on 
 Mond.MV !nght. 
 
 Fa<h night service was precedi'<l by a jiravrr nieet- 
 ing (.fan hour, and sueeeeilcMl by a prayer -meeting for 
 penitents till ten o'clock, 1*. M..exce|»t on Monday night, 
 wh<n I tohl thi' iircthren to continue as long a> there 
 was a penitent to ])ray for. 
 
 In tooling »ip the numbers at the. close of the year,
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 415 
 
 we found tliat after deducting deaths, expulsions, and 
 removals, we had a net increase of about one thousand 
 in the district. I could but regard this success as an 
 intimation of the Divine approval of my apj)ointment 
 to this work. 
 
 As a Trustee of the College, and having been the 
 principal agent on behalf of the Conference in nego- 
 tiating for it, much of the business outside of the teach- 
 ing fell upon me. Most of tlie applications of students 
 and patrons for information relative to the concerns, 
 were made to me. This, in addition to the calls of the 
 district, kept me busy. 
 
 The question of the Manual Labor System came 
 before the Board, and a committee, of which I was 
 Chairman, was appointed to examine and report upon 
 its practicability. Of course, the chief labor of this 
 fell upon me, and the thorough examination given to 
 the subject satisfied me of its utility, though some emi- 
 nent men thought otherwise. I drew up a report, 
 which was submitted to the Board, approved, adopted, 
 and ordered to be printed in pamphlet form for gratu- 
 itous distribution ; it was also printed in the Christian 
 Advocate and Journal^ New York, Dr. J. P. Durbin then 
 being its editor. A dormitory was soon built on the 
 College grounds, cheap, but with convenient rooms for 
 self-boarding students, who were supplied with provis- 
 ions and bedding from home, preparing it themselves 
 as they needed it. 
 
 This brought us a large increase of students. The 
 dormitor}^ being filled, others took rooms in town, 
 boarding themselves, while some took board with 
 mechanics, and worked three hours ever}:- week-day to 
 pay their board. Dr. Cyrus Nutt, now President of 
 Indiana State University, was one of the last class, 
 and his present distinction as a scholar and a min- 
 ister is what I expected; for a student .of such
 
 416 A WKSTKKN IMONEER. 
 
 iiKl(>inil:ible j)t'rscvoraiice in obtuiniii*^ an education 
 urHltT siK'li (lifticnltics, is almost certain to make liis 
 mark in the world, and leave it better for his having 
 been in it. But tliose 8elf-Rupportinf( studentfl were not 
 all who attended the College; there was a resj)eetable 
 number who, liaving tlje means, paid lur theii- b<jard 
 at private houses. 
 
 1 have tijund from my own experience, as well as ob- 
 servation, that tlie necessary exercise of a student must 
 draw upon the muscles of the whole irame, more than 
 mere walking, and be more natural and uniform than 
 gymnastic violence affords. The latter is often too se- 
 vere, and injuriously wrenching, while walking and run- 
 ning, though they may exercise the limbs, do not reach 
 and strengthen the chest, upon which constant study 
 operates so disadvantageously. The chest incases the 
 vitals of life, and usually gives way first in the student. 
 I5ut chopping, hoeing, planing, sawing, or using the 
 draw-shave, and such kind of labor, not only exer- 
 cise the limbs, but the whole frame, and gives it 
 healthy action. If a student is able to j)ay his bills, it 
 is no reason why he should not take some healthy 
 exercise, the want of which has led to thousands of 
 premature grav«'s. and deprived tho world (4^ ]»ininis.'d 
 usefulness. 
 
 We held a camp-meeting tiiis year in lOrio county, 
 I\'iinsylvania, near the Ohio State line, at which we 
 had some rowdyism. 1 went out to endeavor to j)acifv 
 and still it. But one of the rowdies threw a bran«l of 
 fire into my face, the only instance of an a.ssault an«l 
 battery upon my person that over occurred in such or 
 any other ])lace. TIjc next day, this having occurre<l 
 in the night, 1 filed a complaint with a justice of the 
 peace, who had the offender arrested and fined him 
 twenty-five dollars, including the costs. I directed the 
 justice U) collect tlie fine and pay it over to the trustees
 
 REV. ALFRED BRUNSON. 417 
 
 of the common school in the neighborhood, to aid in 
 sustaining the school. 
 
 It rained hard most of the time of the meeting, so 
 that we could have but little service at the stand. I went 
 round the camp and directed large fires to be built near 
 the doors of the tents, and the curtains to be thrown up 
 so as to let the fire throw heat into them. There was 
 but little good done, and in view of the exposure and the 
 rowdyism, I had my doubts whether a meeting held in 
 a church — where we had one — or a barn, if we had no 
 church, for four days, would not result in more good. 
 In fact, such was the result with us this j^ear. 
 
 We held another camp-meeting on French Creek, 
 near Waterford, in the same county, which resulted in 
 considerable good. But the rowdies troubled us here, 
 also. On Saturday night an explosion of gunpowder 
 near the tents, as loud as a three-i^ound gun, shook the 
 ground and tents. The next morning a ball of twine 
 was found with a burnt goose-quill visible. This we 
 unrolled and found about a half pound of powder in 
 the center. The quill been charged with powder, lead- 
 ing to the mass in the center, and a piece of spunk 
 ignited, had been placed in the outer end, the burning 
 of which had crisped the quill before reaching the 
 powder. This saved us from a second shock. • The 
 twine was known by its quality to be such as was used 
 in only one store in the village; and it was ascer- 
 tained that powder was at the other store only, and we 
 thus traced the mischief to the proper persons, the 
 clerks of the two stores, who had stolen the materials, 
 for which they were discharged. This circumstance 
 strengthened my doubts as to the propriety of holding 
 camp-meetings any longer. 
 
 The strongest argument in favor of camp-meetings 
 was the want of churches; but now we had churches 
 enough on each circuit for Winter meetings, and for
 
 418 A WESTERN IMONEER. 
 
 nei^hborlnxnih without churelies the harns in Sununcr, 
 before liarvost. made «^ood tcmjxjrary phices of wor- 
 nliip. Usiiall}' when a h&ru was to be thus UBcd, the 
 owner, as every ^ood farmer on^^lit to do in the Sjn-inp, 
 cleared all the manure and niuloli from about it. If 
 tlie Ijay and barn floor, and scaffold over the stablini^ 
 are all cleaned out and seated, with proper j)recaution 
 no accident of firo can occur. Every person leaving 
 the barn after meetini^ at ni«^ht, except such as sleep in 
 it, an incendiary would have a poor chance to do mis- 
 chief, if 80 disposed. I have held many, perhaps scores, 
 of such meetiiii^s, and never knew or heard of one 
 being burned in consequence of it. 
 
 Such meetings in a church or barn, need but 
 little guarding against rowdies, and consequently but 
 few, if any, called from the altar to guard the ground. 
 The rowdies not having the woods to retreat to, fewer 
 of them attend, ov if they do, are under more restraint. 
 Having had from twenty to one hundred conversions in 
 foui" days, in church«'S and barns, with less expense and 
 a smaller ministerial force than is recpiired at a camp- 
 meeting, the scale seemed to turn in favor of the 
 former. 
 
 While living in Meadviile 1 iniluced the formation 
 of a litt'iary association, or lyeeum, in which I took an 
 active part, delivering numerous lectures, and parlici- 
 ]»ating in <lebates. A lively interest was gotten up, 
 and both citizens and students, as well as profe8soi*8, 
 enlisted in the cause, much to the edification and social 
 gratititation of people generally. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I.
 
 /