CHAPTER XXVII. TOUR TO SOUTH CAROLINA CONFERENCE.

On Tuesday, October 9, we rode to Winchester, capital of Clarke County, Ky., and were the guests of Leroy Cole. The history of this brother is a peculiar one. He became a traveling preacher as early as 1777. His first appointment was to North Carolina with John Dickins and John King, one of the pioneers in that state. He was in Kent, Delaware, and on the Peninsula, Maryland, with Gill and Tunnell, and did noble service. In 1784 he was in Philadelphia. He was a member of the famous Christmas Conference in Baltimore, where the Methodist Episcopal Church was organized in 1784. In 1785 we find in the Minutes the question, “Who is laid aside? Answer, Leroy Cole.” This is all the light we have on the subject, and this is enough to make darkness visible. There might have been injustice done him, for soon after he was restored, and he was a traveling or local preacher for over fifty years. He early emigrated to the West, and settled near Lexington, Ky., where he was a farmer, beloved and respected. Mr. Asbury’s visiting him and the friendship he exhibited shows he had confidence in him. He was a Virginian, born in 1749, converted in 1777, and the same year licensed to preach and entered the traveling ministry. He sustained a local relation when we visited him. He was afterward a member of the Kentucky Conference. He died in triumph February 6, 1830, aged eighty-one.

We remained two days at Leroy Coles’s, and the bishop preached on Thursday evening. On Saturday he preached at Abraham Cassell’s, brother to Rev. Leonard Cassell of the Baltimore Conference, who died in 1808. Abraham had emigrated from Pipe Creek, Md.

On Sunday, at Nicholasville, the bishop preached, and I in the evening at Brother Cassell’s on Matt. v, 20, and then gave them another discourse in German.

At Brother Cassell’s the bishop heard sad intelligence of the death of Benjamin Swope. He had died the winter before. The bishop says, “My old acquaintance was a man of more than common mind and gifts, and might have been much more useful than I fear he was.” Mr. Swope was a minister among “The United Brethren.” Mr. Asbury became acquainted with him in 1771, and through him with the great Otterbein.

On Monday we visited an old minister, one of the pioneers of the West, and the bishop makes this melancholy record. I never read it without pain: “This has been an awful day to me. I visited Francis Poythress. ‘If thou be he; but O how fallen!’” Perhaps no record in his journals has been so little understood as this, and none more liable to be misinterpreted. Some have supposed that he had fallen like wretched apostates, who have made shipwreck of the faith; but it was not so, and the bishop would not willingly or knowingly have done the unfortunate brother injustice. My journal reads thus: “Monday 15, we went with Brother Harris to see Francis Poythress, one of our old preachers. He has been for ten years in a state of insanity, and is still in a distressed state of mind. We then returned to Brother Harris’s.” This is the record I made over fifty years ago, and it was italicised as the reader now sees it.

Francis Poythress was one of the leaders in our Israel. He was admitted into the traveling connection at the third conference, held in 1776, with Freeborn Garrettson, Joseph Hartley, Nicholas Watters, and others. He was a pioneer of the West. In 1790, John Tunnel dying, Francis Poythress was appointed elder at the West, having five large circuits on his district, and on them were Wilson Lee, James Haw, and Barnabas M’Henry. We have not space to trace his history. His excessive labors shattered his system, and his body and intellect were both injured. About the year 1800 he became deranged, and a gloom settled down upon him not to be removed. When Asbury saw him he was shocked, contrasting his former look with his appearance then. He was then living with his sister, twelve miles below Lexington. Bishop Asbury never saw him more; death soon came to the relief of poor Francis Poythress, and none who knew him doubt but he is among the clear unclouded intellects of the upper and better world.

On Friday Bishops Asbury and M’Kendree, James Gwin, and myself started for Cumberland, Tennessee. Before we left an event occurred that pleased me much. Bishop Asbury sold our sulky and bought a horse. His object was to get through the wilderness to Georgia easier. The bishop remarked, “The reward of my toils is not to be found in this world.” No, thou venerable man of God, but thou art finding it in the other, “for if we suffer with him we shall also reign with him.”

At Springfield Hills Bishop M’Kendree preached an excellent sermon in the morning; I exhorted. In the afternoon the Rev. Mr. M’Clelland preached from “The time is short.” Bishop Asbury followed right after from “Now is the accepted time,” and James Gwin exhorted after him.

On Thursday we reached the residence of James Gwin, near Fountain Head. Here we found a comfortable home. Mr. Gwin was one of the early pioneers in Tennessee, and with Andrew Jackson he fought the Cherokee Indians. General Jackson greatly admired him. He was chaplain in Jackson’s army at the time of the battle of New Orleans. He was a noble man, and did noble service in the Western and Tennessee Conferences. Bishop M’Kendree and James Gwin were long intimate friends, and the latter named his son after the bishop.⁠[35] There was a chapel not far from his house called “Gwin’s Chapel.”

On Friday I went to see Bishop M’Kendree’s father; he was a venerable looking man of eighty-six years, and was like a patriarch in the family, greatly beloved. Also James M’Kendree, brother of the bishop, and his sister Frances. The family emigrated from Virginia. James was a sterling man. Frances was converted under John Easter as well as the bishop. Frances married Rev. Nathaniel Moore in 1815, and she died in peace January 1, 1825. The venerated father of the bishop died in holy joy in 1815. And here in Tennessee, many years after, at the house of his brother James, the bishop fell at his post, loaded with honors and covered with scars, shouting, “All is well.” Here he was buried.

On Saturday and Sunday night I lodged with Bishop Asbury at James M’Kendree’s. On Sunday morning Bishop Asbury preached at Gwin’s Chapel, and the other part of the day at Fountain Head meeting-house. This was near where James M’Kendree lived.

Bishop Asbury seemed to be delighted to be rid of his sulky and on horseback again; for he says, “Since I am on horseback my fetters are gone; I meditate much more at ease.” The advantages of being on horseback he thus designates: “1. That I can better turn aside and visit the poor. 2. I shall save money to give away to the needy. 3. I can get along more difficult and intricate roads. And lastly, I can be more tender to my poor faithful beast.” Surely these were weighty reasons.

On Monday the 19th the two bishops and myself started for South Carolina by way of Buncombe. We reached John M’Gee’s, (father-in-law of Thomas L. Douglas,) about thirty-five miles from Fountain Head. We have rode one thousand one hundred and fifty-three miles since I left my father’s, and four thousand one hundred and seventy-eight miles from Charleston.

Tuesday brought us to Dr. Tooley’s. On Wednesday we started for the Holston settlements with Brother John M’Gee, crossing Cumberland River at Walton’s Ferry. After days of hard toiling, on Saturday evening we reached Brother Winton’s. On Sunday the 25th Bishop M’Kendree preached in the meeting house on Matt. v, 3, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” etc. John M’Gee and I exhorted. Bishop Asbury preached at Brother Winton’s in the evening.

For days we toiled on, and on Friday we took a new route over the mountains. We started about seven o’clock and crossed Big Creek with some difficulty, and not without danger, the water being deep and rapid and the bottom very rocky. After crossing we had to toil several hours over high mountains, and then came to Catahouche Creek; here on its banks in the woods we took a little bread and gave our horses some oats. The venerable bishops asked a blessing over our humble meal, and were as thankful as if seated at a well spread table in a parlor.

This was a deep and rapid stream. After we had refreshed both man and beast we prepared to cross. There was no bridge. Brother M’Gee rode through and we drove our horses after him, then the bishops and myself walked over the rapid stream on a tree, and were thankful to get across in safety. The next thing was to climb the Catoluche Mountain. No wonder the bishop wrote, “But O, the mountain, height after height, and five miles over;” and to add to our troubles, we got lost in the wilderness and crossed other streams, wandering hour after hour in the home of wild beasts. Seventeen miles we went through a dreary wilderness. We came to a gate which we entered and passed through the settlements on Jonathan’s and Richland Creeks, and came in at Brother Jacob Shuck’s at nine o’clock in the evening, long after dark, weary, cold, and hungry; but my soul was stayed on the Lord. Bishop Asbury characterizes this as “an awful day.”

Bishop M’Kendree and Brother Magee went a few miles to attend a two days’ meeting at Rev. Samuel Edney’s, and we spent the Sabbath in Buncombe. Bishop Asbury preached for the Rev. Mr. Newton, a Presbyterian minister, whom he loved exceedingly, not only for his catholic spirit, but his strong resemblance to Bishop Whatcoat both in regard to placidity and solemnity.

After crossing mountains and streams, a week from Monday 10th brought us to Rev. James Jenkins’s. He had located some years before, and the bishop was delighted that he was going to re-enter the traveling connection. The bishop here received from the North the sad news of the death of his old friends Jesse Hollingsworth, Peter Hoffman, and John Bloodgood. The next day Brother Jenkins rode with us to Camden. Father Asbury met a class at night in Brother Mathis’s room.

In regard to our late route Mr. Asbury wrote thus: “Great fatigue, my lame horse, and unknown roads where we lose ourselves, are small trials; but ‘as thy days so shall thy strength be.’” He then wrote what is very complimentary to the inhabitants of Carolina, and contrasts strangely with some who would take the bishop’s last cent for a little refreshment: “We are not, nor have we been lately, much among our own people; but it has made little difference in the article of expense. The generous Carolinians are polite and kind, and will not take our money.”

On Friday the 14th we left Camden and rode to Father Rembert’s. Brother William M. Kenneday, Brother Gilman, myself, and several others fixed the seats in the new meeting-house. We spent the Sabbath there. Father Asbury preached in the morning, and William M. Kenneday followed him. I preached in the evening, and William Capers exhorted. Bishop Asbury was very much indisposed here for several days.

On Thursday we rode with quite a number of preachers to Columbia, the seat of the South Carolina Conference. It was held in the private mansion of Colonel Thomas Taylor, United States senator. He was not a Methodist, but was very friendly. He and his family were at Washington, and he gave up his whole house for the conference to be held there, and the preachers to remain in it. He gave two brethren, Wyth and Williamson, the privilege of moving into his house and entertaining the preachers.

The conference commenced on Saturday, December 22. After singing and prayer, Bishop Asbury addressed the conference in a most parental and affectionate manner, stating, among other things, that he was in the fiftieth year of his ministerial service and his fortieth in America, and that he could not endure such labors much longer. The brethren were deeply affected. The conference commenced and progressed in great harmony.

On Sunday morning at eight o’clock we had a social meeting, composed of traveling and local preachers, in the conference room. Several spoke of the dealing of God to their souls. It was a blessed privilege to listen to these warm-hearted southern brethren as they talked of Jesus and his love. Surely we sat together in a heavenly place in Christ Jesus. To crown the whole, we had a pastoral address from Bishops Asbury and M’Kendree. It was a moving and a memorable time. At eleven Bishop Asbury preached from 2 Cor. iii, 12. Plainness of speech was dwelt upon with great effect. The congregation was immense, and there was great seriousness. At three Bishop M’Kendree preached from 2 Cor. v, 20, “Now, then, we are embassadors for Christ,” etc. The sermon was masterly. No wonder I added, “The Lord was with us. Glory to the Saviour that such an unworthy creature as I am permitted to enjoy such a refreshing season from the presence of the Lord! Glorious Sabbath, never to be forgotten in time or eternity.” On Monday at eleven I preached from John i, 11, 12. The Lord made the word a blessing to some souls.

Tuesday was Christmas day. In the morning James Russell preached at five o’clock from Mark i, 15. It was a great privilege to hear that original genius preach. I added under the sermon, “There was a shout in the camp. Glory! halleluiah!” The preachers in those days were up in the morning; they were not caught napping. Early as it was, long before the sun got out of bed, there were over three hundred hearers. At eleven o’clock Bishop Asbury ordained eleven promising men to the office of deacon, after which Jonathan Jackson preached on Rev. xiv, 6, 7.

Love and harmony seems to increase in our conference. Twenty preachers were admitted on trial, and there was about two thousand five hundred increase of members. The elders were ordained on Friday, the last day of the session, after Bishop Asbury had preached a sermon admirably adapted to the occasion from Heb. iii, 12, 14.