Green Lake Mission Continued.--Quarterly Meeting at Oshkosh.--Rev. G. N. Hanson.--Lake Apuckaway.--Lost and Found.--Salt and Potatoes.--Mill Creek.--Rock River.--Rev. J.M.S. Maxson.--Oakfield.--Cold Bath.--Fox Lake.--Gospel vs. Whiskey.--On Time.--Badger Hill.--S.A.L. Davis.--Miller's Mill.--G. W. Sexmith.--Burnett.--William Willard.--Grand River.--David Wood.
It had been arranged at the Conference that Green Lake and Winnebago Lake Missions should hold their Quarterly Meetings together. The first was now to be held at Oshkosh. In going, I took the trail leading from Ceresco to Oshkosh, and traveled the whole distance without finding a house. But at the intersection of the Fond du Lac and Ceresco trails I met Brother Sampson, the Presiding Elder.
On our arrival at Oshkosh we found it had been arranged to hold the services on Saturday in a private house on the south side of the river. The Elder preached, and at the close of the service, the Quarterly Conference was convened under a tree, thereby giving the house to the needed preparations for dinner.
Rev. G.N. Hanson was the Pastor at Oshkosh. He was a single man, several years my senior, of a kind and gentle spirit, given to books and a fair Preacher. I had known him in the State of New York, where we were both Exhorters, and, also, both engaged in teaching. Brother Hanson entered the Rock River Conference in 1844, and his first charge was Manitowoc. He had been stationed on the Winnebago Lake Mission at the recent Conference and was doing a good work. After leaving this charge he rendered effective service in other fields until 1852, when, having almost lost the use of his voice, he took a superannuated relation. But as soon thereafter as his health would permit, he entered the service of the Bible Cause and for three years proved an efficient Agent. In this work his field of labor lay mostly in the new and sparsely settled regions of the Chippewa Valley, and along the frontiers of Minnesota. But here he evinced the same perseverance and self-denial which had characterized his whole life. Leaving his most estimable companion, he took the Word of God, and though he could no longer give it a living voice, he bore it joyfully to the families of the land, through the forest and marshes of those new counties, often throwing his shadow upon the coming footsteps of the Itinerant himself. But at last he was compelled to yield to the hand of disease which had long rested upon him. He passed over the river in holy triumph in 1857.
On Sabbath the meeting was held in a frame building, the first in the place, that had been erected for a store. It had been roofed and enclosed, but there were no doors or windows. Rude seats had been arranged and the accommodations were ample. The Elder preached in the morning and the writer, as the visiting Pastor, in the afternoon. The meeting was well attended and greatly enjoyed by all. The people, of course, were mostly strangers to each other, and, coming from different parts of the world, were accustomed to various modes of worship. But they seemed to forget their differences, and recognize Christ only as their common Savior.
At this time Oshkosh was but little more than a mere trading post. The few families there were mostly on farms or claims in the vicinity of the river or lake. During my stay I was entertained by Brother William W. Wright, whose house, for many years thereafter, was a home for the Itinerant ministers.
The Quarterly Meeting passed off very pleasantly, and at its close I returned to my work of exploration on the Green Lake Mission.
Flushed with the achievements of the previous few weeks, and still sighing for conquests, I now resolved to make a sally in the direction of Lake Apuckaway, lying to the northwest of Lake Maria. I found, on the southern shore, a few families, and made arrangements for an appointment in connection with my next round. I then started to return, but had not gone far, when I found I had lost my reckoning. I looked for my compass as eagerly as Christian for his roll, but I could not find it. This was a double misfortune, to lose both the way and the guide at the same time. I resorted to the device of the backwoodsman, and tried to determine my course by the moss on the trees, but I found this to be a great perplexity and abandoned it. I traveled in divers directions and devious ways until nearly overcome with fatigue and hunger, when I suddenly came upon a newly erected log cabin. The logs had been rolled up to form the body, a roof of "shakes" had been hastily put on, there was no chinking between the logs, there were no windows, and the only door was a blanket. The floor was made of earth, and the fireplace was merely a pile of stones in one corner, from which the smoke ascended through an opening in the roof, at one corner of the building.
I knocked for admittance, and was kindly received. The good man and his wife had but recently come into the country. He had succeeded in erecting his cabin and putting it in its present condition, but had been taken ill with the ague and compelled to suspend operations. He had now been so long confined at home that provisions had become scarce. It was meal time. A few potatoes were taken from the embers and placed on a chest, as a substitute for a table. I was invited to join them in their repast, using a trunk as a seat. Grace was said, under a special sense of the Divine favor. A little salt was added, and the meal was one of the most relishable I had ever eaten. Several years after, I heard the good brother relate the circumstance in a Love Feast, when he took occasion to say the visit was the most refreshing he had ever experienced. It was certainly such to me. The village of Kingston has since sprang up in the vicinity, and has become the head of a circuit.
Returning again to Waupun, I now decided to look over the territory in the more immediate vicinity. Going to the south of the village five miles, I found Mill Creek, where a small settlement had been made. The most central house of the neighborhood was the residence of Brother David Moul, who kindly offered it for a temporary chapel. An appointment was established, and on the 16th day of November a class was formed. Brother Moul was appointed Leader. The class at the first, consisted of the Leader and wife, David Boynton and wife, and two others, but in the revival that soon followed, the number was increased to twenty-two.
Brother Moul was an earnest worker in the Master's vineyard, generous in his contributions to support the Gospel, and eminently faithful to every trust committed to his keeping. At the end of twenty years, I made a visit to Mill Creek. I found Brother Moul had erected a fine house and was living in manifest comfort; but he retained a vivid recollection of the early days and their sacrifices. Two relics remained, both in a fair state of preservation, which he took great pleasure in showing to me. The first was the old class book that I had given him at the time of the organization of the class. It was a single sheet of foolscap paper, folded together in book form, and stitched. The names upon it were mostly in my own handwriting, and the Leader had carefully made his weekly entries of present and absent, until the pages were filled. The other object of interest was the old house, in which the first meetings were held. Here we had seen remarkable displays of Divine power. And as I now looked upon the old structure, the early scenes seemed to return. I could again see the wide room, filled with rude seats, Brother Moul at the door as usher, the crowds of people that thronged the place, the groups of seekers at the mourners' bench, and the lines of happy faces that were aglow with hallowed expressions of delight. I could again hear the songs of praise as they rang out in the olden time, full and sweet, filling the place with rarest melody. Nay, as I held communion with the past, I seemed to feel the hallowed influences, that pervaded the early worshippers, breathing through all my being, as of old, and even fancy myself young again, and standing before the multitude as an ambassador of the Master.
But the scene, like the visions of the night, soon disappeared, and I turned sadly away, half regretting that I was no longer a pioneer, and permitted to feed the hungry sheep in the wilderness.
Brother David Boynton, at this writing, remains on the old farm, which has been growing with the passing decades, until the paternal acres have become a large estate. Situated on a prominent highway, his house, until the days of railroads, was the stopping place of all the preachers who needed entertainment at either noon or night. Brother Boynton, in the person of his son, Rev. J.T. Boynton, of the Wisconsin Conference, has given to the Itinerant work, an efficient laborer.
Leaving Mill Creek, I next visited Rock River, a settlement on the Fond du Lac road, six miles east of Waupun. My father had visited this place during the preceding year, and had already established an appointment. Brother W.J.C. Robertson, a gentleman whom we had known in the East, had tendered the use of his house, and here the meetings were now being held. My first visit occurred on the 18th day of November, 1845, In the evening, I held a service and formed a class. The members were W.J.C. Robertson, Martha Robertson, Mary Maxson, Mary Keyes, James Patterson, Charles Drake, Abigail Drake, and Elizabeth Winslow. The last named subsequently became the wife of Rev. J.M.S. Maxson. The first Leader was Brother Robertson. Both the congregation and class grew rapidly in this neighborhood, and the appointment soon took a leading position on the charge. During the ensuing winter a revival occurred, and gave an accession of twenty-five. From the first, this Society has been blessed with a devoted and spiritual membership, and its prayer meetings have been a living power in the land. As a result, revivals have been frequent, and the number saved a host. Passing from private houses, the meetings were held in a school house, but in course of time the school house became too small, and a larger one was built, with a special view to a provision for religious meetings.
In later years I have held Quarterly meetings in this building, when it was thronged with people. On such occasions, after filling the building to its utmost capacity, the good brethren would fill the court around it with wagons, carriages and buggies, loaded with people. It was at one of these gatherings that the little girl said, "Why, Ma, only see how full the school house is on the outside." During the past year a fine Church has been erected.
Rock River was the home of the lamented Rev. James M.S. Maxson, before he entered the Itinerant work. It was here that he was led to Christ, licensed to preach, and sent out into the vineyard, and certainly the church has had no occasion to deplore her share of the responsibility. Brother Maxson entered the Conference in 1850, and filled with great credit, Omro, Fall River, Grove street Milwaukee, Oconomowoc, Rosendale and Ripon charges. At the last named place, he closed his labors June 19, 1858. He was a man of great force of character, a good preacher, and was thoroughly devoted to his work. He was greatly beloved in his fields of labor, and his death was deeply regretted.
Having organized the class at Rock River, and arranged the plan of appointments to take it into the circuit, I passed on to visit an appointment at the Wilkinson Settlement, which had recently been attached to my charge from the Fond du Lac Circuit. It was situated on the south side of the marsh, nine miles from Fond du Lac and twelve from Waupun. The school house, in which the meetings were held, was located within the limits of the present village of Oakfield.
The class at this place had been formed during the early part of 1844, by Rev H.S. Bronson, when he was pastor of Lake Winnebago Mission, and consisted of Russell Wilkinson, Leader, and Alma, his wife, Robert Wilkinson, and Almira, his wife, Eliza Botsford and Sarah Bull.
To reach the settlement, it was necessary to follow the military road towards Fond du Lac for some distance, and then cross the marsh. At times, the stream in the middle was swollen, and the traveler was compelled to leave his horse and cross on foot. This was especially true when the ice was not sufficiently strong to bear up the horse, and such was the condition in which I found it on this occasion. So, leaving my horse, I hastened to cross the marsh, but when I had reached the middle of the stream, the treacherous ice gave way, and I plunged into the water up to my armpits. I clambered out, but as the day was intensely cold, I was soon a walking pillar of ice. I was now on the school house side of the stream, and there seemed to be no alternative but to go on. I would gladly have found a shelter and a fire elsewhere, but it was out of the question. So, putting on a bold face, I hastened forward, and found the people in waiting for the minister. As I entered the school house, with the ice rattling at every movement, my appearance was ridiculous in the extreme. But not more so than that of the audience. The faces of that crowd would certainly have been the delight of a painter. Some of them were agape with surprise and amazement; others were agonized with sympathy for the poor minister; and others still were full of mirth, and would have laughed outright if they had not been in a religious meeting. As to myself, the whole matter took a mirthful turn. I had been in church before, when by some queer or grotesque conjunction of affairs, the whole audience lost self control. I had witnessed mistakes, blunders and accidents that would make even solemnity herself laugh, and remained serenely grave. But to see myself in the presence of that polite audience, standing at that stove, and turning from side to side, to thaw the icicles from the skirts of my coat, was too much for me. I confess it was utterly impossible to keep my face in harmony with the character of the pending services.
At Fox Lake, the next point visited, an appointment had been established by my father during the previous year. The services were now held on Sabbath afternoon in the tavern. The log house, thus used for the double purpose of a chapel and a tavern, was built with two parts, and might have been called a double house. The one end was occupied as a sitting-room and the other as a bar-room. The meetings were held, of course, in the former. But it was bringing the two kingdoms into close proximity to dispense the Gospel in one end of the house and whisky in the other. In a short time, a better place was provided, and the meetings were removed to it.
With the better provision for religious services, came also the ministers of other denominations. We all labored together in harmony, except in one instance, where a conflict of appointments caused a momentary ripple. My appointment had long been established, and, to the surprise of the people, another appointment was announced by a young store-keeper of the village for the same hour. The word reached me of this attempt to displace the Methodists, when ten miles distant from the place.
I took my dinner and rode forward, without "wrath" or "gainsaying." I reached the place at the hour, went in and began the services. While the congregation were singing, the young man and his minister came in. Finding me in the desk, the minister quietly took a seat and listened very attentively to the sermon. But not so the discomfited young man. Being placed under the eye of the congregation, his condition was pitiable in the extreme. But finding after awhile that I was master of the ceremonies, and that no one in the congregation seemed vexed enough to fight for him, he subsided into a deferential attitude. And, thereafter, there were no further attempts to override my appointments. The minister, or perhaps I should say clergyman, took no offense, but became in after years a highly valued friend and companion.
At this time Mrs. Green was the only member of the Methodist church in the village. In process of time, however, a strong society was established. Then came the erection of a commodious Church and a very pleasant Parsonage. Fox Lake has been furnished with a line of able ministers, and has at the present writing a large and cultivated congregation.
Passing down the stream the following week, I found several families in the vicinity of Badger Hill. I immediately arranged an appointment for a week-day evening at the residence of a brother by the name of Morgan. At the first service held December 7, 1845, I formed a class of six. Brother Morgan was appointed Leader, and at the Quarterly Meeting following Brother Drinkwater was made steward. Some time after, the class was removed to Fox Lake, it being only three miles distant.
I now returned again to Waupun to spend the Sabbath. The Class Leader at this time was S.A.L. Davis, who came to the place during the preceding year. Brother Davis was an old neighbor from the East, a noble and true man, and, withal, had been my first Leader. He was specially adapted to the position; a man of great faith and ardent impulses. Under his Leadership, the class was in a most flourishing condition. The late revival had, however, so swelled the numbers that a division became necessary. An appointment had already been established at Miller's Mill, and it was now deemed best to so divide the class as to establish the meetings of one of them at this point. The change was accordingly made. The class was formed December 12th, 1845, and George W. Sexmith was appointed Leader.
Brother Sexmith was also an old neighbor, who had come West and taken a farm in the vicinity of Miller's Mill. Under his care, the class grew rapidly, and became an efficient company of laborers. Several years after he removed to Fond du Lac, and greatly prospered in business. In 1852 I had the pleasure to present him with a Local Preacher's license. He was employed one year as Pastor of Liberty Prairie circuit, but his health proved unequal to the Itinerancy, and he was compelled to resume his relation as a Local Preacher, in which position he still holds an honored place among his brethren.
The next place visited was Burnett. The services were held in the residence of Mr. McDonald, and a class was formed December 14th, 1845. The members of the first organization were William Willard, Leader, Huldah Ann Willard, Samuel C. Grant, Ruth M. Grant, and Elizabeth Benedict. The class grew rapidly, and the appointment took a leading rank on the charge. Burnett has since become a charge, has a good Church edifice and a strong congregation. Brother Willard became a member of the Conference, of whom mention will be made in another chapter.
Having organized the work at Burnett, I next visited Grand River. I had passed through this place in the early part of Autumn. At that time I found Brother David Wood and his son engaged in making preparations for a home. Finding they intended to have their cabin completed and the family in it before winter, I engaged to visit them and establish an appointment. On reaching the place to fulfil this agreement, I found that besides this family several others had also settled in the vicinity. At the first meeting, appointed before there was a family in the neighborhood, we had a congregation of fifteen persons. The class was formed December 19th, 1845, with David Wood as Leader. The Alto Church, which gives the name to a charge, has been erected in the vicinity, and there is at the present writing a strong society. Father Wood, as he is now called, still survives, and takes special delight in referring to this visit of the 'boy preacher.'
The watch-night meeting was held at Waupun, and was an occasion of great interest, several persons being converted.
Green Lake Mission Continued.--An Assistant Employed.--Quarterly Meeting at Waupun.--Love Feast.--Forty Miles Ride, and Four Sermons.--A Sermon and its Fruit.--Portage Prairie.--Randolph.--Randolph Centre.--Rolling Prairie.--Cheney's Class.--Brandon.--Rosendale.--Reed's Corners.--Strong's Landing.--A Night in the Openings.--Rev. Uriel Farmin.--Going to Conference.--Madison.--Visit at Platteville.--Bishop Hamline.--Humorous to Grave.--Galena Conference.
The work of the Mission was now well in hand. But already the field was becoming extended and the labor onerous. Thirteen regular preaching places had been established, and invitations were being received weekly to increase the number. To meet this demand, it was now determined to employ an assistant.
The Quarterly Meeting was held soon after at Waupun, and Rev. Uriel Farmin was employed by the Presiding Elder to assist in filling the appointments. The meeting, the first of the kind ever held in Waupun, was one of rare interest. The revival had just added a goodly number to the membership, besides greatly quickening others. There were present a number of visitors from the newly formed classes in other parts of the Mission, and as a spirit of revival seemed to pervade their respective localties also, they struck the same plane as those at Waupun. The Elder preached the Word, "in the demonstration of the Spirit, and with power." But the meeting reached its climax in the Sabbath morning Love Feast. The house was filled, and many were compelled to sit on the writing desks at the side of the room. The meeting was opened in the usual order, by passing to each a crumb of bread and a sip of water, in token of Christian regard. Christian testimonies followed each other in rapid succession, interspersed by singing spiritual songs, for a full hour. At times the tide of feeling rose, like swelling billows, to a great height, threatening to carry the meeting into disorder, but by giving it a happy change at the right moment, the Elder was able to maintain a complete mastery. There were two periods specially critical. One, when a young lady, one of the converts at Waupun, gave her testimony. Standing on a seat, as there was no other place to stand, she first related her own experience, and then, turning to the young people, she delivered an exhortation that thrilled the audience with overwhelming emotions. The other was when a Brother Mosher, somewhat eccentric in his exercises, gave his experience. As he advanced in its recital, he grew excited and eloquent, and the "Amens" and "Hallelujahs" came from every part of the audience. Now, leaping upon the tide of feeling he had raised, he passed from one to another, shaking hands and congratulating them, until he came in front of the desk where sat my father and Father Smith, the two Patriarchs of the occasion. Throwing his arms around their necks, he fairly lifted them from their seats, but in a moment, he discovered his awkward position and resumed his seat. Instantly the clear voice of my father was heard in one of those outbursts of song, which so effectually kindle the fervors of devotion, or if needed, stay the flow of feeling. In a moment more, the meeting had passed the crisis.
The Mission was now put under a new plan, providing for alternate appointments, each preacher making the round in four weeks. But while this arrangement was the general order, the numerous calls received from various localities required frequent changes. In most cases, however, the new appointments were crowded between the others. To meet them, it required three sermons on the Sabbath, besides many others during the week. As to myself, I sometimes rode forty miles on the Sabbath and preached four sermons.
On one of these excursions, I became very much exercised on the subject of Christian holiness. I had before given the subject special thought, but now it seemed to assume unusual importance. Not only did the teachings of our standards bear an unwonted clearness to my perception, but my heart began to realize its essential value.
At my morning service, I preached on the subject, and as I swept over the prairie ten miles, in the face of a driving storm, I resolved to preach on the same subject again at my noon-day appointment. I did so, and with much better satisfaction than in the morning. Twelve miles more of storm, and I was again before a congregation to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ. I had now become so full of my theme that I concluded to make it the subject of my next discourse. So, changing my text, I preached on Gospel purity, showing that experimental religion presents itself to the conception of the mind under three clearly defined ideas. These are Justification, Regeneration, and Sanctification. The drift of thought ran in this wise: By Justification we mean the pardon of sin. The man, who finds this grace through Christ, stands as fully accepted before the Law, as though he had never sinned. By Regeneration, we mean that radical change of man's moral and spiritual condition which subjects all the faculties and powers of the soul to the control of the Divine Spirit. This work of grace, wrought in the heart by the Spirit, includes not only the entire subjugation of the "Man of Sin," but the introduction of the reign of Christ. These two achievements of grace, wrought in the subject at the same moment, we ordinarily call Conversion. By Sanctification, we mean that higher state of grace which contemplates the removal of all sin from the heart of the believer, and the experience of "Perfect Love."
This last attainment comes to the believer through earnest seeking, and personal consecration to God. In thus "going on to perfection," the believer passes through several phases of experience. He finds that if he shall retain his justified state, it is necessary to seek advanced attainments. And if he shall be faithful in the use of grace already received, he will find the Spirit ever leading him to new fields of experience. As the Astronomer rests his calculations on worlds already discovered when he looks into the regions beyond, so the Christian must maintain his present experience, if he will know the further revelations of the Spirit.
But the moral perceptions, quickened by the Spirit, will furnish painful revelations to the justified soul. He will discover that there linger still within him remains of the carnal mind. Pride, the love of the world, selfishness, self-will, and sometimes even anger or other evil passion, will begin to stir in the heart. Such revelations will awaken a profound spiritual concern, and perhaps, become the subject of temptation. But there need be no alarm. It is but an evidence that the good work, began in Regeneration, has not been fully completed by entire Sanctification. The tree has been cut down, but the shoots around the old stump show that there is vitality still in the roots. The "Mightier" than the "strong man" must now come and pluck up the roots. The work of eradication thus accomplished, the absolute reign of Christ will be established. The heart will now become the Garden of the Lord, without briar, thorn, or thistle. Relieved of these hindrances, the graces will speedily acquire maturity.
At the close of the sermon, a good sister referred in very earnest terms to the discourse, and was grateful for the ministry of a man who so well understood the deep things of God. Instantly the thought came, "Ah, yes! but there must be a great difference between merely understanding the theory, and realizing a happy experience of the power." A hasty supper was eaten, and I was away for another ten miles to my evening appointment. The snow was still falling, and the winds were driving it fiercely across the prairie, rendering the track invisible. Out on the prairie, my noble horse dashed forward with great speed, but I scarcely noted the distance, as my thought was busy. The question that was ringing through my heart was this: "How can you preach to others what you do not know yourself?" At length I resolved; and scarcely stopping to measure the movement, or estimate the consequences, I was on my knees, engaged in prayer. My first conscious thought of my surroundings was awakened by the wrestling of my horse, as my right hand held him firmly by the lines. Then came the suggestion, "This is a very unpropitious time to settle a matter of this importance. With a fractious horse by the rein, a terrible storm sweeping over the prairie, and an already blind snow-path, you had better defer the matter for the present." My reply was, "It is time these questions were settled, and I propose to settle them now" "But the snow-path is nearly filled; you will lose your way and perish." I still replied, "It is time these questions were settled, and I propose to settle them now." "But it is getting dark, and your congregation will be waiting for you. You had better go forward, fill your appointment, and then attend to this matter." The Lord helped me to reply once more, "It is time these questions were settled, and, God helping me, they shall be settled now." Instantly the light broke upon me, and I was able "to reckon myself dead unto sin, but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ my Lord." I was found in due time at my appointment, preaching from the text, "He is able to save unto the uttermost all who come unto God by him."
Learning that a settlement had been made on Portage Prairie, at a point where Mr. Langdon, of Lake Maria, had erected a lumber mill, I resolved to visit the locality. I found Mr. Langdon had erected a small house, and had already moved his family. I was welcomed to his new home and again invited to make his house a chapel until better accommodations could be secured. I accepted the kind offer, and thus Cambria was made a regular appointment. I visited the few scattered families in the vicinity, and found sufficient material to organize a small class. The class was formed on the 10th day of January, 1846, and at the beginning included Mr. and Mrs. Irwin McCall, Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Wilson, Mrs. Maria Langdon, and Mrs. H. W. Patton. Cambria has since been largely settled by emigrants from Wales.
In March, I visited Randolph and opened an appointment at the residence of Father Griffin. At the present writing, the village has become a respectable station, with a good Church and Parsonage.
I also opened an appointment at the residence of Mr. Torbit, at Randolph Centre, which place has since become the head of a circuit.
In May following, I formed a class on the north end of Rolling Prairie, with Bro. Greenleaf, a Local Preacher, as Leader.
Wm. A. Cheney and family settled on Wedge's Prairie in the early part of this year. His house was immediately opened for religious meetings. But before I could arrange my plans to visit the neighborhood, my father, who was always on the alert to carry the Gospel Message to the destitute, established an appointment. On his invitation I held a meeting there, on the third day of June, 1846, and organized a class. The following were the first members: Wm. A. Cheney, Leader, Sophronia Cheney, Abigail Cheney, D. S. Cowles, Ann Cowles, Henry Moore, and wife.
At this time Brandon had not taken form or name, but, on its appearance, the honors and emoluments of this society passed over to its keeping.
Rosendale and Reed's Corners were next visited. At the first I held services in the house of Mr. Sanborn, after whom the prairie at that time was called, and at the latter, the meeting was held in the residence of a Brother Lee, a brother of the celebrated Dr. Luther Lee.
Rosendale has since become a very pleasant station, with its convenient Church and Parsonage, and Reed's Corners is a prominent appointment in the Brandon charge, and has also a fine Church.
Having heard frequent reference made to Strong's Landing, on the Fox River, I resolved to visit the place. On approaching the bank of the stream, I looked sharply in all directions to discover the town, but there were no evidences of human skill within the range of my vision. Concluding that I had struck the river at the wrong place, I first passed down the stream for a mile, but failing to find any settlement I turned back. I now went up the stream for a considerable distance, and found a trail that seemed to lead down to the margin of the river. Following it to the water, I found a small canoe tied to a tree. The light now dawned upon my understanding. This was Strong's Landing. Not having prophetic vision, I was unable to see the city of the future, sitting so gracefully on the banks of the Fox. Again the Itinerancy was ahead of the pioneer. Leaving the site of the future city of Berlin, I hastened to return to Waupun, but a starless night overtaking me on the way, I spent its weary hours where the village of Brandon now stands, under the branches of a friendly tree.
The labors of the year were now drawing to a close. The regular appointments had multiplied until they numbered twenty-four. The membership had gone up from a small figure to two hundred, and the spiritual interests were in a highly satisfactory condition.
My labors had been very arduous during the entire year, but had been well sustained until the latter part of the winter, when my health failed, resulting doubtless rather from exposure than labor. I was now laid aside for several weeks, but through the blessing of God and the skill of Dr. Bowman, my physician at Waupun, my health so far rallied that it was believed to be safe to proceed with my work.
My colleague had rendered effective service, proving to be a true yoke-fellow in every particular. Besides taking his full share of the regular appointments, he also gave a large portion of his time to the special labors of the charge. He was not expected, at the outset, to give his whole time, but he soon became so fully identified with the work that he was almost constantly employed. In the severe labors of protracted meetings, and in the wide travel of the circuit of appointments, he was equally self-forgetting and faithful. He was a man of good attainments, kind spirit, studious habits, and an acceptable preacher.
The charge being in a formative state, and the necessities of the preachers small, the financial receipts from the people were very limited. My own were only thirty-six dollars, and those of my colleague could not have been greater.
In tracing the work on Green Lake Mission, I have been thus specific for two reasons. I desired, in the first place, to give the reader an inside view of the relations of the Itinerancy to frontier life, and in the second, note the beginnings of a list of charges that have since constituted a Presiding Elder's District.
The Rock River Conference met this year in Galena, Ill. And as it was necessary for my father to attend the Conference to receive Elder's orders, we decided to make the journey in a buggy. The first day, passing through Beaver Dam, we reached Fountain Prairie, where we were entertained by Rev. E.J. Smith, of whom further mention will be made hereafter.
At noon on the following day we reached Madison, and were entertained by Rev. R.J. Harvey, the Pastor of the charge. Madison at this time was a small village, but, besides the Capitol, contained several buildings of respectable size and appearance.
The first Methodist sermon preached in Madison was delivered by Rev. Salmon Stebbins on the 28th day of November, 1837. Brother Stebbins was then the Presiding Elder of of the District, which extended along the western shore of Lake Michigan, from the State line to Green Bay. On visiting Madison, he was entertained by the contractor, who was erecting the State House, and who also kept a hotel. On learning that Brother Stebbins was a minister, this gentleman invited the entire population to a meeting in his bar-room, and here the first sermon was preached. And I am informed that the people were so pleased with the services that on the following morning Brother Stebbins was presented with a collection of fourteen dollars.
Brother Stebbins again visited the capital July 15th, 1838, and spent the Sabbath, preaching twice to respectable congregations. But as Madison, now in the West Wisconsin Conference, has fallen more directly under the eye of Rev. Dr. Bronson, and will doubtless appear in the Western Pioneer. I need not anticipate its historical incidents.
Passing on our way we were entertained the following night by a gentleman residing on the line of travel, some twenty miles beyond the Capital, by the name of Skinner. The following day we reached Platteville, where we were to spend the Sabbath.
It was now Friday night. Early the next morning, we received an invitation to spend the afternoon, in company with others, at Major Roundtree's, with Bishop Hamline. We went. The company was composed mostly of preachers, on their way to Conference. Among them were the Mitchells and Haneys. Of the first, there were Father Mitchell, a grand old Patriarch, John T. James, and Frank. Of the latter, there were the Father, Richard, William, Freeborn, and M.L.
But the central figure among them all was the good Bishop. Of full form, compact frame, broad forehead, and strong features, he would be selected in any group as a princely man. And yet, withal, his spirit was as gentle as that of a child. Though one of the intellectual giants of the country, and one of her greatest orators, he still seemed so humble in spirit that I felt myself drawn towards him at once. In such a presence the conversation was necessarily restrained. Dismissing, for the time, the freedom of debate, anecdote and repartee, that so often characterize ministerial gatherings, the interchange of thought took on a more serious tone. Only once was there an exception. Referring to the labors of some distinguished man of his acquaintance, one of the leading brethren and prince of story tellers, whose name I need not mention, proceeded to relate an anecdote. Immediately the tides of feeling began to rise, and, as the story advanced to its climax, they broke over all restraint. An immoderate laughter followed, in which no one joined more heartily than the brother himself. The storm of merriment, however, had hardly passed, when the Bishop, in one of those indescribably solemn tones for which he was distinguished, said, "Brethren, I always find it difficult to maintain the proper spiritual equilibrium without a good deal of prayer." Then, turning to the offending brother, he added, "Brother, will you lead us in prayer?" The entire company instantly fell upon their knees. But the poor brother! What could he do? Pray he must, for the entire company were on their knees, waiting for him to begin. So, making a virtue of necessity, he made the venture. But, I am free to say, it took a good deal of coasting before the good brother could get his craft well out to sea, and headed towards the desired haven. During the balance of the visit anecdotes were at a discount.
On Monday we went forward to the Conference, that I might appear before the Committee of Examination. The Committee were Revs. Salmon Stebbins, N.P. Heath, and S. Stover.
Appointed to Watertown.--Aztalan the Mother of Circuits.--Divisions and Subdivisions.--Rev. S.H. Stocking.--Watertown.--Church Enterprise.--Sickly Season.--Quarterly Meeting at Burnett--Rev. A.P. Allen.--Elder Sampson Ties a Knot.--Conference of 1847.--Returned to Watertown.--Financial Pressure.--Opens a School.--The Coat Sermon.
At the Galena Conference, Green Lake Mission was divided into two four weeks' circuits, requiring the labor of four men. In view of my impaired health, I was sent to Watertown, the Cabinet believing that I would here find less labor and exposure.
Watertown, up to the preceding year, had been a part of the old Aztalan circuit, and as this circuit was the mother of charges in this part of the Territory, it is proper that our respects should first be paid to her.
The old Aztalan circuit was organized at the session of the Illinois Conference of 1837, and embraced all the settled portion of the Territory east of Madison and west of the Lake Shore Missions. The first preachers were Rev. Samuel Pillsbury and Rev. Jesse Halstead, and the year was one of extended travels and great exposure. During the year appointments were established at Aztalan, Whitewater, Meacham's Prairie, East Troy, Spring Prairie, Elkhorn, Burlington, Round Prairie, Menomonee, Prairieville, Oconomowoc, and Watertown, and at several of them classes were formed. Brother Halstead's horse became disabled, and during a portion of the year this indomitable pioneer, with saddle-bags on his arm, made on foot, the entire round of appointments. Brother Pillsbury was also a man of sterling qualities, and rendered effective service.
The Quarterly Meetings of this year were held by Rev. Salmon Stebbins, the Presiding Elder, at Aztalan, Meacham's Prairie, Troy, and Burlington.
At the Conference of 1839, Aztalan circuit was divided. The eastern part was called Walworth, and Rev. James McKean was appointed its Pastor. The western part, retaining the Rock River Valley, was now called Watertown, and Rev. H.W. Frink was appointed the Pastor. Both charges were now put in the Milwaukee District, with Rev. Julius Field as Presiding Elder.
Brother Frink was now a young man, and this was his third charge. Leaving the seat of the Conference, he returned to Elgin, his last field of labor, filled his saddle bags with clothes and books, mounted his horse as a true knight of the Itinerancy, and was away for new perils and new conquests. In his journey to what was then deemed the wilds of Wisconsin, he passed through Elk Grove, Wheeling, Indian Creek, Crystal Lake, Pleasant Prairie, East Troy, Whitewater, Fort Atkinson and Aztalan. The last named was the head of the Mission, as a class, the only one on the charge, had been formed at this place.
Without much regard to boundaries, it was the work of the Pioneer to find the scattered sheep in the Wilderness. To do this, he was obliged to undertake long and wearisome journeys, through exposed and almost trackless regions. Without roads, without bridges, and without shelter, our young Itinerant pushed his way through the forests, swimming the streams, when fords could not be found, and seeking shelter under the overhanging branches of the trees, in the absence of the friendly cabin. As the result of these extended journeys and herculean labors, Brother Frink, during the year, formed classes at Fort Atkinson, Jefferson, Piperville, Oconomowoc, Summit, Baxter's Prairie, Waukesha, Poplar Creek, Brookfield, Wauwatosa, Granville, Menomonee, Lisbon and North Prairie, but was unable to gather sufficient materials to form one at Watertown.
Brother Frink, however, enjoyed the honor of preaching the first sermon in this locality. As there was no school house or other public building that could be had, a small log house, twelve feet square, on the west side of the river, was secured. Here the services were held during the balance of the year. The Missionary was kindly received by all classes of people, and when in the place was usually entertained by Hon. Wm. M. Dennis, since Bank Comptroller of the State, and Patrick Rogan, a gentleman whose religious affiliations were with the Catholic Church.
At Fort Atkinson, Brother Frink preached and formed the class, in the residence of Jesse Roberts, during the winter of 1839 and 1840. The members of the first class were Jesse Roberts, Betsey Roberts, Franklin Roberts, Sarah Roberts, Martha Fellows, Anson Stone, and Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. The first Church was built in 1850, and Fort Atkinson became a separate charge in 1854. It now ranks among the first charges in the Janesville District.
The class at Jefferson was formed in the summer of 1840, and the members were Jacob Fellows, Martha Fellows, Mary Fellows, and John Masters.
The name of the circuit was again changed in 1841, Watertown being dropped and Aztalan restored. A change was also made in the name of the Summit charge, which was now called Prairieville.
Another dismemberment again befel the old Aztalan circuit this year. The southern portion, lying down the Rock River, was cut off and joined to territory that had been developed in Rock County, from the east and south, and out of the united parts Janesville charge was constructed. On the old Aztalan charge Rev. John Hodges became the Preacher, and on the Janesville Rev. Alpha Warren. By these changes Aztalan was again reduced to the condition of a Mission.
In 1842, Rev. C.G. Lathrop was appointed to Aztalan, of whom a further record will be made in a subsequent chapter. Both Aztalan and Janesville were now transferred from the Platteville District to the Rock River, a new District that had just been formed, with Rev. S.H. Stocking as Presiding Elder.
Brother Stocking entered the traveling connection in Oneida Conference, and after filling a respectable class of appointments for a term of years, came to Illinois at an early day. He was stationed at Chicago in 1839, at Rockford in 1840, and was Presiding Elder of Mt. Morris District in 1841, Rock River 1842, Ottawa 1843 and 1844, and Milwaukee in 1845. Brother Stocking was highly esteemed by his brethren, and was an excellent laborer, but, his health failing, he was compelled to take a superannuated relation soon after the writer entered the work. He is spending the evening of life at Beloit.
In 1843 Rev. Stephen Jones was sent to Aztalan. In 1844 the charge was again divided and Watertown charge was formed, Brother Jones being transferred to the new charge. Rev. Asa Wood was now sent to Aztalan, and remained one year, when he was succeeded by Revs. C.N. Wager and S. B. Whipple. At the Conference of 1854 the honors and emoluments of Aztalan circuit passed over to the keeping of Lake Mills, which charge at this writing holds a respectable rank in the Conference.
Watertown, at the time of my appointment, had been a separate charge one year. A Church edifice had been commenced, and a class formed. The members were Mr. and Mrs. Walter Andrews, Mr., and Mrs. Heber Smith, Mr. and Mrs. Calvin Bunton, Mr. and Mrs. Wm. A. Dutcher, Mr. and Mrs. Elihu Higgins, Mr. and Mrs. Albert Cook, Mrs. Simeon Ford, Mr. and Mrs. Cheney Adams, Mr. Sands Cook, and others.
The financial ability of the charge was moderate, and hence the erection of the Church required a great effort. Our meetings were held in the school house until the Church edifice was enclosed, plastered, and furnished with temporary seats.
The fall of 1846 was a season of unusual sickness, fevers in various forms being the principal ailment. Along the valley of the Rock River, the affliction became so flagrant that scarcely a family escaped. And in some families, so universal were its ravages, that not one member was left in condition to care for the balance. In this state of things hundreds suffered, and not a few even died for want of kindly attention.
Repeatedly, when riding through the country to visit the sick and bury the dead, I found flags of distress hung out over the dwellings of sick families, where not one was able to bring a pail of water, or provide a morsel of food. In such cases I installed myself master of ceremonies, kindled fires, brought water, administered medicines, and then went forward to render the same class of services to others.
In attending funerals in the surrounding neighborhoods, I sometimes found there were not well people enough to bury their dead. After performing the sacred functions of my office as a minister, I was obliged to aid, with my own hands, to let the coffin down to its final resting place.
Though still frail from my illness during the previous year, I stood this strain for two months, when I was prostrated by an attack of bilious fever. During the first week of my illness a physician made two visits to my boarding place, and this was more than he could give to the greater portion of his patients. The family with whom I boarded were all sick, and I was dependent for care mostly upon such snatches of service as others could spare from pressing demands at home. At the end of a week, believing my chances of recovery, under such circumstances, precarious, I ordered my horse and buggy, and started for Waupun, thirty miles distant. My friends remonstrated, and thought me insane; but, fortunately, they were too ill to prevent the movement. The attempt was perilous, indeed, but by the aid of stimulants, which I had provided with special care, and a will-power that nerved itself for the occasion, I made the passage safely. At the end of four hours I was comfortably housed at the residence of Dr. Bowman, who bestowed upon me skillful medical treatment, while his family gave me careful and faithful nursing.
At the end of four weeks I was able to return to my post of duty. The sickness had now mostly passed, and I was able to enter more fully upon the regular labors of the charge. I now adopted a plan of systematic labor, giving the forenoons to my study and the afternoons to pastoral visiting. And I soon found that earnest and devoted labor brought its reward. A revival speedily followed, which added a goodly number of probationers.
But the holidays were approaching, and it was expected that I would spend a portion of them at Waupun, where, it was hinted, an event would transpire in which I might have a personal interest. Anticipating the time several days, I went as far as Clason's Prairie, and turned aside to assist Brother Holmes, the Pastor of the charge, for a few evenings in a protracted meeting. Returning, I proceeded on my way to Burnett. By arrangement, I met Brother Sampson here, and spent the Sabbath with him, it being his Quarterly Meeting on the Waupun charge.
The preachers on the circuit were Revs. A.P. Allen and Henry Requa, the latter being employed by the Elder as an assistant. Brother Allen was a man of mature years, though he had been in the work only a short time. He was a man of decided talent, but so full of queer ways and witty sayings that these seemed to give him his status in the general estimation of the people. He filled several leading charges in the Conference, and served a full term as Presiding Elder on the Racine District. But wherever he might be, the same tendency to create laughter was ever present. If an exception ever came to my knowledge, it must have been the one that is said to have occurred on a former charge at one of his outlying appointments. It is related that at this point the people had not shown much regard for the visits of the preacher or the sanctity of the Sabbath, spending the day either in rioting or in the pursuit of their secular business. Becoming disgusted with this state of things, Brother Allen announced at the close of his services, that on the occasion of his next visit, he would preach his farewell sermon. The day came, and the people, shocked at the idea of being left without meetings, came out in large numbers, leaving for once their business and sports. The services were opened in due form. On arising to announce the text, the Preacher told the people that he had come prepared to preach his farewell sermon, and he was glad that so many had come out to hear it. He presumed they knew the reason of his purpose to leave them, and hence he need not consume time over that matter, but would proceed at once to announce as his text, the following passage of Holy Writ: 'Oh, full of all subtlety and mischief, thou child of the devil, how long wilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord.' Having repeated the text with emphasis, he looked over the congregation very gravely, and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, you will perceive that I have chosen a pretty hard text. Now it is not polite for people to go out of meeting during the preaching, and if any of you think that this text is too severe for you, you had better go out before we begin the sermon." As might have been expected, none were disposed to go. "Well, then," said the Preacher, "if you are not disposed to go, I will begin. I intend to show, in the first place, that you are all full of subtlety and mischief. In the second place, I intend to show that you are all the children of the devil, and in the third place, I intend to put to you the straight question, whether you intend to cease from thus perverting the right ways of the Lord." The preacher, at this point, again, paused and looked over the congregation. "Now you will say," he added, "this is going to be a hard sermon." "So it is, but if any of you think you can't sit to hear the truth told you, or in other words, to have your portraits taken, you had better leave now, for it is not polite to go out during the sermon." It was now too late to go, if any one felt inclined. So the sermon proceeded, and commanded respectful attention to its close. Before leaving, the Preacher was invited to continue the appointment, and consented to do so.
But to return to the Quarterly Meeting. The people came in great numbers, and the services throughout were deeply impressive. On Saturday evening, several souls were converted, and on the Sabbath others were added to the number. But the crowning meeting was held on Sabbath evening. Before the hour of service had arrived, the school house was full, the seats even having been removed to furnish standing room. And yet crowds of people were coming from all directions. I finally proposed to the Elder, that if he would put a man in my place in the school house, I would go over to the nearest neighbor's house and hold another service. The private house was soon filled, and in each congregation there were several conversions.
On Monday, January 4th, 1847, Brother Sampson accompanied me to Dr. Bowman's at Waupun, where he officiated in introducing the Doctor's eldest daughter to the Itinerancy.
Returning to Watertown, I held protracted meetings at all the outlying appointments, and had the happiness to witness many conversions. But the year was one of hard labor and small financial receipts. At its close I found my receipts from the charge were forty-four dollars and my board. The forty-four dollars were put into the Church enterprise, and I drew on my private funds for my incidental expenses.
The Conference met in Clark Street Church, Chicago, Aug. 11th, 1847. I passed my Conference Examination, was ordained Deacon by Bishop Waugh, and reappointed to Watertown.
Watertown was now placed in Milwaukee District, with Rev. Elihu Springer, as Presiding Elder. At the beginning of the new year we opened house-keeping in the upper rooms of a house on the corner of Fourth and Main Streets. The first floor was occupied as a residence by Judge Enos.
The year opened encouragingly. The Church in the village required two sermons on the Sabbath, and I had established other appointments in the country which required three a week, besides funeral sermons. The appointments were Higgins and Bennetts on the south of the village, and Piperville, Concord and Newhouse on the east. At several of them, during the winter, protracted meetings were held, in addition to the one held in the village. At each several conversions occurred, making a fair aggregate in all. These extensive labors taxed me severely, and finally brought on an attack of fever. I was taken during Sunday night, after preaching in Watertown both morning and evening. The attack was so violent that before morning I had become deranged, and my life was despaired of. But through my wife's faithful watching and the good Providence of God, I was able to resume my labors in three weeks.
It now became apparent that a severe financial pressure was upon us. I had spent what I could immediately command of my own funds, and the good brethren had contributed so generously out of their scanty means, to place the Church in condition for use, that they could not meet the Pastor's salary. I saw clearly that some other provision must be made.
While casting about to find my direction, a Providential opening occurred. Rev. Mr. Hoyt, the Episcopal clergyman, who had been keeping a Latin school for some time in the village, was compelled through illness to desist from teaching. Fortunately, I had gone down several times at his request, and relieved him in hearing his classes in Greek and Latin. This little kindness, added to the fact I was one of the School Commissioners of the county, naturally directed attention to me, as the person to open a select school in the village. I embraced the opportunity. The Trustees kindly consented to the use of the Church for the purpose. As the seats were only temporary, they were easily adjusted to the new order of things, and a school of sixty students was soon organized. This new demand upon me greatly abridged the pastoral work, but there seemed to be no other way to live. Before I could realize anything, however, from the school, we found ourselves in very considerable embarrassment. In this emergency, my wife opened her doors for a few boarders, which met the immediate demands of the table.
But at this juncture of our affairs, an incident occurred that afforded relief in another direction. My coat had become, through long wear and exposure, not a little seedy. On entering the pulpit one Sabbath morning I found a note lying on the Bible. I opened it and read as follows: "Will Mr. Miller have the goodness to preach this morning from the Text, 'I have put off my coat, and how shall I put it on?'" The note was written in a delicate hand and gave evidence of no ordinary cultivation. At the conclusion of the reading, I gave a searching glance over the congregation, but could make no face present plead guilty to the accusation of impertinence.
The opening exercises of the service were not concluded before my course of action was decided upon. I read the note to the congregation, and stated that I had just found it on the desk. I further stated that I was at a loss to determine whether it was intended as a sneer at my old coat, or whether the writer really desired an exposition of the text named. But, believing that no one could so far forget a due sense of propriety as to deride honest poverty, or scoff at so faithful a servant as my old coat had been, even though it now began to show signs of age, I chose to take the latter view of the case. With this conviction, I should proceed to make the text the subject of the discourse. After giving the connection and context, I proceeded to define the subject of coats, arrange them into classes and set forth their uses. The spiritual application was not difficult, but it needed a little skill to cut the several styles so that each one could recognize his own pattern and appropriate the right garment. "Of course," I remarked, "every one has heard of the garment of self-righteousness, though it may be that none in this congregation are aware of ever having seen it. Yet, should you chance to look upon it, with its straight seams and buckram collar, I am quite sure you would not prefer it to my old coat, unseemly as it may appear." Thus the sermon went on, to "cut to order" and "fit to measure," until all the most flagrant styles of coats had been disposed of, being careful, meantime, to institute the comparison in each case with the old coat before the audience. The discourse was perfectly ludicrous, but, like all of its kind, it took amazingly. Its financial success was, doubtless, all that the writer of the note had intended. On the next Sabbath morning the minister walked into church with a new outfit of wearing apparel, from the crown of the hat to the soles of the boots.
Watertown, from the first, was an unpromising field for ministerial labor. The leading influences at the beginning, if not directly opposed, were almost wholly indifferent to the claims of religion.