The reader has already heard of Big Springs as a locality where Free
State Conventions were wont to be held. Lawrence and Topeka were
twenty-five miles apart, and both were on the south bank of the Kansas
River. Big Springs is midway between these towns, and is situated on
the high divide, lying between the Kansas River and the Wakarusa.
Here, at Big Springs, were located four brethren, L. R. Campbell, C.
M. Mock, A. T. Byler and Jack Reeves. Bro. Campbell was a Disciple
from Indiana, of much more than average attainments, and of great
force of character. In his immediate neighborhood, and as he had
opportunity, he was a preacher, and when a church was organized he
naturally became its leader and elder. His early death seemed the
greatest calamity that ever befell the church, though he raised a
family of boys that in process of time have taken his place, and make
his loss seem not irreparable.
C. M. Mock was not a preacher, yet there is many a preacher that might
well be proud to make himself as widely and as favorable known as
"Charley Mock," and to be remembered with as much affection. He only
remained in Kansas a few years, and then returned to his original home
in Rushville, Rush county, Indiana. We may truthfully say, "What was
our loss was their gain."
Bro. Byler was simply a large-hearted and kind-natured farmer from
Missouri, who was too full of brotherly love to have anything of
sectional prejudice about him. George W. Hutchinson, whom we will
hereafter introduce to our readers, used to call him his
"Big _Boiler_." His death after a few years was sad and pathetic; he
had been to Lecompton and driving a spirited horse; the horse took
fright, and threw him from his buggy and killed him.
Jack Reeves was the son of B. F. Reeves, of Flat Rock, Ind., so long
the venerated elder of that church, and a sort of patriarch over all
the churches. And the above-named brethren, as well as a number of
others, hearing that I was preaching near the Missouri River, sent for
me to come and make them a visit. I accordingly did so, and now, for
thirty-one years I have not forgotten to visit them, and they have not
forgotten me. From this time forward I preached for them as I had
opportunity, and thus began to make the acquaintance of brethren south
of the Kansas River. The church grew apace. At their organization they
had twenty-five members. Two years afterwards they were able to report
a membership of seventy-two persons.
The year 1857 passed rapidly away. My time was divided between working
on my claim on Stranger Creek, preaching for the churches that had
been organized, and making the acquaintance of brethren wherever I was
able to find them.
And now the year 1858 was upon us, predestinated to bring with it
consequences far-reaching, as touching the future of Kansas. In this
year should be settled the question that had filled the Territory with
agitation, tumult, and war for four years; and it was in this year
that our Kansas missionary work was begun, and in which was organized
the first missionary society. The time was the early spring of 1858.
The place was "Old Union," a little, log school-house situated in a
ravine opening into Stranger Creek bottoms. The _personnel_ were,
first, Numeris Humber, with his tender heart and quenchless love for
missionary work. Then there was his sister wife, that with saintly
presence and sacred song made us feel that this was the very house of
God and gate of heaven. Judge William Young was also present, who had
neither song nor sentimentality about him, but in his unpoetic way
looked at everything in the light of cold, hard fact. And yet Bro.
Young is neither cold nor hard, only on the outside. There also was
Spartan Rhea (these brethren were all from Missouri), whose fine sense
of honor and upright conduct we have already had occasion to commend
while acting as justice of the peace during our former troubles.
Joseph Potter was also there, and so, also, was Joseph McBride, a
notable preacher of Tennessee, that many years ago was one of the
pioneers that planted the Christian cause in Oregon. All told, we had
a crowd large enough to fill a little, log school-house. Brethren Yohe
and Marshall, of Leavenworth City, also gave us assurances of their
hearty help and sympathy. This Dr. S. A. Marshall was a brother-in-law
to Isaac Errett, and always deeply interested himself in this work of
building up the churches. The church at Pardee was also represented.
And this constituted the make-up of our first missionary society.
Three churches represented, and enough persons decently to fill a
little seven-by-nine log school-house. Let us learn not to despise the
day of small things. As for the amount of money pledged--well, it
would not have frightened even one of those little ones, that are
scared out of their wits at the thought of an over-paid, over-fed,
proud, luxurious and domineering priesthood. As for the missionary
chosen to go on this forlorn hope--to explore this Africa of spiritual
darkness, it was Hobson's choice; it was this or none. Except myself,
there was no man to be thought of that would or could go on this
errand, and so there was no contest over the choice of a missionary.
Conspicuous among these early churches were the churches that were
formed in Doniphan county. This is the most northeastern county in the
State, and is in a great bend of the Missouri River, having the river
on three sides of it. It is a body of the best land in Kansas, and no
county had at its first settlement as many Disciples. Their first
beginning was unfortunate. A man named Winters, calling himself a
preacher, came among them and made a great stir. But he brought with
him a woman that was not his wife. With a character unblemished this
man would have won an honorable fame; but when questioned he
equivocated, but was finally compelled to confess the shameful truth,
and in their grief and shame the newly-organized church seemed broken
up. Jacob I. Scott was a man of spotless life and dauntless purpose,
and feeling that it would be an unspeakable humiliation to allow
everything to go to wreck because of the frailty of one unfortunate
man, and learning that I had taken the field in the counties further
south, he besought me to come over and help them. In no counties in
this State have there been more churches than in Doniphan county, but
in no county in the State have the churches been more evanescent and
unstable, and yet it is not because these brethren have apostatized,
but it is that the men that have settled in Doniphan county are men
that keep on the borders of civilization, and the opening of a great
empire for settlement to the west of them tempted them to move onward.
Indeed, this has been the case in all the churches in Eastern Kansas.
Just as soon as we would gather up a strong church it would
straightway melt out of our hands, and its members would be scattered
from Montana to Florida, and from the Missouri River to Oregon.
Some twenty-five miles to the northwest of my place of residence, in
what is now Jackson county, on the waters of the Cedar Creek, was a
settlement mainly from Platte county, Mo. The best known of these was
Bro. John Gardiner, whose heart now for thirty years has held one
single thought, the interest and prosperity of the Christian Church.
He has sacrificed much, has labored much, and has done a great deal of
preaching without fee or reward. Bro. J. W. Williams, from
Southeastern Ohio, a man of saintly character and indefatigable
purpose, was also of this settlement. There also we organized a
church.
The places for holding meetings were of the most primitive kind. A log
school-house was a luxury; the squatter cabins were too small; but we
had to use them during the winter. The groves of timber along the
streams were always waiting; but, we only could use them in fair and
pleasant weather, and for six months in the year. As for hearers, we
were never lacking an audience, we were never lacking for a crowd that
were ready to listen with honest good-will to the message which we
brought them.
It was an eventful summer. More rain fell than in any season I have
known. The streams were always full, the bottoms were often flooded,
and crossing was sometimes dangerous; but I had a good horse and was
not afraid.
In religious matters everything was broken up, and men were drifting.
But this good came of it, that they were ready to listen to this
strange and new thing that was brought to their ears, in which so much
was made of the Lord's authority, of apostolic teaching and apostolic
example, and so little of traditions, theories, and time-honored
observances, of which the Bible knows nothing, but which have been
sanctified by universal acceptance.
As for myself, there had been romances enough about my life to make
the people wish to see me, and I was proud to know that the boys could
remember my sermons and repeat them. The men with whom I was
immediately associated in this work, and who had sent me on this
errand, were of inestimable advantage to me. They were well and
favorably known as men of unblemished reputation in Eastern Kansas and
Western Missouri. "Old Duke Young," as the father of Judge William
Young had been affectionately called in Western Missouri, had been an
eminently popular frontier and pioneer preacher, and Judge Young had
inherited an honorable distinction as being the son of such a father;
and when it was known that I was acting with the concurrence and under
the approval of such men, the arrangement was generally accepted as
satisfactory.
And now I had my heart's best desire. I was in the field as an
evangelist; the harvest was abundant and the grain was already ripe
and waiting for the sickle. But above all, and beyond all these, was
peace in the land. We all had had a lover's quarrel, but we had made
it up and were the better friends. Everywhere they had their joke with
me, as to my method of navigating the Missouri River, and to the
attire I sometimes put on; but I had come out the upper dog in the
fight, and could afford to stand their bantering. There is a warmth,
freshness, and enthusiasm in the friendships formed under such
conditions that can never be transferred to associations of older and
more orderly communities. As a result of this summer's work, here were
seven churches full of zeal and rapidly growing, and occupying a field
that had been almost absolutely fallow, for outside of the towns there
was no religious movement except our own.
But at one point we were put at a very great disadvantage. Older and
better established denominations were able to plant missionaries in
such cities as Atchison, Topeka and Lawrence, while we were not; and
yet in each of these cities there were from the first a small number
of brethren, who might have served as the nucleus of a church.
Speaking in general terms, monthly preaching never built up a church
in any city, and the reader will see that in the very nature of things
I could not set myself down to the care of a single congregation.