CHAPTER VI. MY FIRST CIRCUIT, DORCHESTER.

In January, 1800, I began my regular itinerant life. It was on Dorchester Circuit, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, in Philadelphia Conference. The peninsula that lies between the Delaware and Chesapeake Bays, though not considered very healthy, was the garden of Methodism in America. Methodism was early introduced there, and for a time the ministers were greatly persecuted; but they achieved a glorious success. The heroic Garrettson was persecuted; Caleb B. Pedicord, the sweet singer of our Israel, received scars which he carried with him to the grave; Joseph Hartley was imprisoned, and through the grates of his prison preached deliverance to the captive; and Thomas S. Chew took the sheriff prisoner who had taken him captive. Dorchester Circuit was formed in 1780. It was a large circuit, embracing not only Dorchester County, but Taylor’s and Hooper’s Island in the Chesapeake Bay.

The introduction of Methodism into Dorchester can be traced to the conversion of a young woman, Miss Catharine, sister of Harry Ennalls. She was afterward Mrs. Bruff of Baltimore, who was so useful in the revival at the General Conference of 1800. Through her influence her sister Mary, and her husband, the Hon. Richard Bassett of Delaware, were converted; also Henry Airey, Esq. It was at Squire Airey’s house that Freeborn Garrettson preached the first Methodist sermon in Dorchester County, and from that house he was taken to the jail at Cambridge. The squire threw over Mr. Garrettson the mantle of his protection as far as he was able. I learned while traveling there that all the ringleaders in that mob died a violent death, except Batt Ennalls, who was converted, and joined the Church. I knew him very well, and preached at his house when on that circuit. The sad end of these persecutors was considered a special judgment from God.

I was employed by Rev. Thomas Ware to preach on this circuit because John Leach was sick and unable to travel. He was an excellent young man, with a shattered constitution, who lingered a year or two, and then entered into rest. I bade farewell to the scenes of my childhood and started to go among strangers. My mother’s sweet kiss and my aged father’s blessing I still remember. The tears rolled down my cheek as I looked back upon the home of my childhood, the old family mansion, endeared to me by so many tender associations. With weakness, fear, and much trembling, I entered upon my new field of labor and began to cultivate Immanuel’s land. The arrival of a new preacher, a German youth from Pennsylvania, was soon noised abroad, and this called out many to see and hear. I was reluctant to go to a circuit and preach in the English tongue. Had it been in the German language I should not have been so embarrassed.

For two months I suffered powerful temptation to abandon my work and return home. I went to Brother Harry Ennalls’s. He lived near the Choptank River, one of the largest streams on the Peninsula. His house was a preaching-place and a home for the preachers. This family did not belong to the class who were “afraid they would be eaten out of house and home.” Harry Ennalls was a man of wealth, and he used this world as not abusing it. His money gave him power and influence, which were used to advance the great interest of the Redeemer’s kingdom. He was a holy, zealous Christian, and a devout Methodist. One of our preachers, Thomas Smith, met him and the late Hon. James A. Bayard, senator in Congress from Delaware, at Governor Bassett’s. Harry Ennalls prayed with great power and unction, talking with God as if he was used to conversing with him. He did not forget the honorable statesman in his prayer, but fervently invoked the blessing of God upon him. When he had finished praying, and the family had risen from their knees, Mr. Bayard was observed walking the floor very rapidly, much agitated; then turning to Mr. Ennalls, he said, “Henry, what did you mean by shaking your brimstone bag over me?” “To save you from hell, sir,” replied Mr. Ennalls. Governor Bassett’s first wife was Harry Ennalls’s sister. Harry Ennalls’s wife was one of the best of women. She was a Goldsbury, related to Governor Goldsbury. This was one of the great families of the Peninsula. They had no children, and always made the preachers very welcome, and considered the younger as their children. Mrs. Ennalls, who was a person of discernment, saw I was suffering under deep depression of spirits. I was fearful I had mistaken my calling. Ingenuously she asked me a great many questions, till she drew from me the real state of my mind. When she found out that I was discouraged, and about to give up my work in despair and return home, she gave me such a reproof as I shall never forget. “My young brother,” she said, “your eternal salvation may depend upon the course you are about to take. You may lose your soul by such an unwise, hasty step.” Then she exhorted me in the most earnest and emphatic manner not to abandon my work, but to keep on. I resolved in the strength of my Master to try again, and though over threescore years have gone into eternity since “having obtained help from God, I continue unto this day.” Well I remember that hospitable mansion; and the room in which we were, the attitude of the woman, her anxious countenance, her piercing eye, the tone of her voice, are all before me just as if it were yesterday. Her wise counsel has had an influence upon me all my days; it shaped my destiny for life. She has been in the grave for many years, and I remember her still with a heart overflowing with gratitude.⁠[6]

I then went to that famous house where the first sermon was preached in Dorchester County by Freeborn Garrettson, where the widow of Squire Airey resided. The old squire was dead and gone. By his position and character he was enabled to do noble service for Methodism, and he deserves a conspicuous place in the gallery of portraits of the distinguished laymen of the early Methodist Church in America. His widow still lived in the old homestead, and the itinerant ministers were made as welcome as when he was alive. She lived but a short distance from Mr. Ennalls. In family prayer we had a gracious time. The Holy Ghost descended in copious effusions, and the widow was so baptized she shouted aloud for joy and was greatly strengthened and encouraged. I retired to my couch feeling that my soul was resting in God.

It was in the month of March, and the snow had mantled the earth with its sheet of white. I went to sleep sweetly and had a most singular dream. I have never attached much importance to dreams, but this was so strange that I will relate it; it will do no harm if it does no good. I dreamed of seeing a large field of wheat, ripe, waving before the wind, ready for the sickle, and the reapers were cutting it down and binding up the golden sheaves. And there was a large field of green wheat, so extensive I saw no end. This beautiful dream was a benefit to me; the idea of such scenery at that time of the year, when the snow was on the ground, caused me to rejoice, and the rejoicing to awake, and lo, it was but a dream. I concluded this dream could not have come from an evil source, otherwise I could not have been in such a happy state of mind; and if it was from a good source, it was for some good purpose, and accordingly I thanked God and took courage, and “went forth weeping, bearing precious seed,” not doubting that I should “come again with rejoicing, bringing my sheaves with me.”

We had a number of appointments on Dorchester circuit. I have preserved the names of all the classes and of all the members, both colored and white, and of those who died during the year, and of those who married out of the society, and all who were expelled. The record is singular; it would be still more so if we knew the destiny of each of the persons whose name is recorded; but they are all written in God’s book. Most of them, no doubt, are in their graves. A prominent appointment was Cambridge. It was here that the noble Garrettson was imprisoned. But the days of persecution were passed, and Methodism was respected. Here resided Dr. Edward White, who helped give tone and character to Methodism. Among the names I find on the class-book in Cambridge are Dr. Edward White, Mary Ann White, his wife, and Eliza White, Sarah White, and Mary White, his three daughters.

Religion did wonders for the colored people on this circuit, and hundreds of them were converted. They sometimes took the name of their masters. I copy from the African class at Cambridge: Edward, Lina, Jacob, Alice, Ralph, Lua, David, Rhoda, Adam, Esther, Rachel, Harrie, Isaac, Minta, Primus, Philus, Ned, Den, John, Drape, Rive, Robert, Tom, Jacob, David, Adam, Esther.

I preached at Ennalls’s meeting-house. There was also a class at Harry Ennalls’s: on the book are the names of Harry Ennalls, leader; Sarah, his wife, and Eliza Airey, the widow of Squire Airey. There are other honorable names that I have not space to transcribe—they are in the book of life. There were two colored classes that met at Ennalls’s: one had twenty members, the other twenty-five. Among their names are Pompey, Dido, Moses, and others. We not only had separate classes for the colored people, but separate love-feasts; they were generally held in the morning previous to the love-feasts for the whites, and were seasons of great interest. Religion in its simplicity and power was exhibited by them.

We preached also at Airey’s Chapel. This was not far from where Squire Airey lived and died, and it was called after him; there was a class or society here; there were forty-four names belonging to one class. William Pitt was the leader, and among the members were a number of Aireys.