I was informed that a camp-meeting was to be held about seven miles from
Cincinnati, and, anxious to verify the accounts I had heard of them, I
availed myself of this opportunity of deciding for myself. We proceeded
about five miles on the high road, and then diverged by a cross-road
until we arrived at a steep conical hill, crowned with splendid forest
trees without underwood; the trees being sufficiently apart to admit of
wagons and other vehicles to pass in every direction. The camp was
raised upon the summit of this hill, a piece of table-land comprising
many acres. About an acre and a half was surrounded on the four sides
by cabins built up of rough boards; the whole area in the centre was
fitted up with planks, laid about a foot from the ground, as seats. At
one end, but not close to the cabins, was a raised stand, which served
as a pulpit for the preachers, one of them praying, while five or six
others sat down behind him on benches. There was ingress to the area by
the four corners; the whole of it was shaded by vast forest trees, which
ran up to the height of fifty or sixty feet without throwing out a
branch; and to the trunks of these trees were fixed lamps in every
direction, for the continuance of service by night. Outside the area,
which may be designated as the church, were hundreds of tents pitched in
every quarter, their snowy whiteness contrasting beautifully with the
deep verdure and gloom of the forest. These were the temporary
habitations of those who had come many miles to attend the meeting, and
who remained there from the commencement until it concluded--usually, a
period of from ten to twelve days, but often much longer. The tents
were furnished with every article necessary for cooking; mattresses to
sleep upon, etcetera; some of them even had bedsteads and chests of
drawers, which had been brought in the wagons in which the people in
this country usually travel. At a farther distance were all the wagons
and other vehicles which had conveyed the people to the meeting, whilst
hundreds of horses were tethered under the trees, and plentifully
provided with forage. Such were the general outlines of a most
interesting and beautiful scene.
Where, indeed, could so magnificent a temple to the Lord be raised as on
this lofty hill, crowned as it was with such majestic verdure. Compared
with these giants of the forest, the cabins and tents of the multitude
appeared as insignificant and contemptible as almost would man himself
in the presence of the Deity. Many generations of men must have been
mowed down before the arrival of these enormous trees to their present
state of maturity; and at the time they sent forth their first shoots,
probably were not on the whole of this continent, now teeming with
millions, as many white men as are now assembled on this field. I
walked about for some time surveying the panorama, when I returned to
the area, and took my seat upon a bench. In one quarter the coloured
population had collected themselves; their tents appeared to be better
furnished and better supplied with comforts than most of those belonging
to the whites. I put my head into one of the tents, and discovered a
sable damsel lying on a bed and singing hymns in a loud voice.
The major portion of those not in the area were cooking the dinners.
Fires were burning in every direction, pots boiling, chickens roasting,
hams seething; indeed there appeared to be no want of creature comforts.
But the trumpet sounded, as in days of yore, as a signal that the
service was about to recommence and I went into the area and took my
seat. One of the preachers rose and gave out a hymn, which was sung by
the congregation, amounting to about seven or eight hundred. After the
singing of the hymn was concluded he commenced an extempore sermon: it
was good, sound doctrine, and, although Methodism of the mildest tone,
and divested of its bitterness of denunciation, as indeed is generally
the case with Methodism in America. I heard nothing which could be
offensive to any other sect, or which could be considered objectionable
by the most orthodox, and I began to doubt whether such scenes as had
been described to me did really take place at these meetings. A prayer
followed, and after about two hours the congregation were dismissed to
their dinners, being first informed that the service would recommence at
two o'clock at the sound of the trumpet. In front of the pulpit there
was a space railed off; and strewed with straw, which I was told was the
_Anxious seat_, and on which sat those who were touched by their
consciences or the discourse of the preacher; but, although there were
several sitting on it, I did not perceive any emotion on the part of the
occupants: they were attentive, but nothing more.
When I first examined the area, I saw a very large tent at one corner of
it, probably fifty feet long, by twenty wide. It was open at the end,
and, being full of straw, I concluded it was used as a sleeping-place
for those who had not provided themselves with separate accommodation.
About an hour after the service was over, perceiving many people
directing their steps toward it, I followed them. On one side of the
tent were about twenty females, mostly young, squatted down on the
straw; on the other a few men; in the centre was a long form, against
which were some other men kneeling, with their faces covered with their
hands, as if occupied in prayer. Gradually the numbers increased, girl
after girl dropped down upon the straw on the one side, and men on the
other. At last an elderly man gave out a hymn, which was sung with
peculiar energy; then another knelt down in the centre, and commenced a
prayer, shutting his eyes (as I observed most clergymen in the United
States do when they pray) and raising his hands above his head; then
another burst out into a prayer, and another followed him; then their
voices became all confused together; and then were heard the more
silvery tones of woman's supplication. As the din increased so did
their enthusiasm; handkerchiefs were raised to bright eyes, and sobs
were intermingled with prayers and ejaculations. It became a scene of
Babel; more than twenty men and women were crying out at the highest
pitch of their voices, and trying apparently to be heard above the
others. Every minute the excitement increased; some wrung their hands
and called for mercy; some tore their hair; boys laid down crying
bitterly, with their heads buried in the straw; there was sobbing almost
to suffocation, and hysterics and deep agony. One young man clung to
the form, crying, "Satan tears at me, but I would hold fast. Help--
help, he drags me down!" It was a scene of horrible agony and despair;
and, when it was at its height, one of the preachers came in, and
raising his voice high above the tumult, intreated the Lord to receive
into his fold those who now repented and would fain return. Another of
the ministers knelt down by some young men, whose faces were covered up,
and who appeared to be almost in a state of frenzy; and putting his
hands upon them, poured forth an energetic prayer, well calculated to
work upon their over excited feelings. Groans, ejaculations, broken
sobs, frantic motions, and convulsions succeeded; some fell on their
backs with their eyes closed, waving their hands with a slow motion, and
crying out--"Glory, glory, glory!" I quitted the spot, and hastened
away into the forest, for the sight was too painful, too melancholy.
Its sincerity could not be doubted, but it was the effect of
over-excitement, not of sober reasoning. Could such violence of feeling
have been produced had each party retired to commune alone? most surely
not. It was a fever created by collision and contact, of the same
nature as that which stimulates a mob to deeds of blood and horror.
Gregarious animals are by nature inoffensive. The cruel and the savage
live apart, and in solitude; but the gregarious, upheld and stimulated
by each other, become formidable. So it is with man.
I was told that the scene would be much more interesting and exciting
after the lamps were lighted; but I had seen quite enough of it. It was
too serious to laugh at, and I felt that it was not for me to condemn.
"Cry aloud, and spare not," was the exhortation of the preacher and
certainly, if heaven was only to be taken by storm, he was a proper
leader for his congregation.
Whatever may be the opinion of the reader as to the meeting which I have
described, it is certain that nothing could be more laudable than the
intention by which these meetings were originated. At the first
settling of the country the people were widely scattered, and the truths
of the Gospel, owing to the scarcity of preachers, but seldom heard. It
was to remedy this unavoidable evil that they agreed, like the
Christians in earlier times, to collect together from all quarters, and
pass many days in meditation and prayer, "exhorting one another--
comforting one another." Even now it is not uncommon for the settlers
in Indians and Illinois to travel one hundred miles in their wagons to
attend one of these meetings,--meetings which are now too often sullied
by fanaticism on the one hand, and on the other by the levity and
infidelity of those who go not to pray, but to scoff; or to indulge in
the licentiousness which, it is said, but too often follows, when night
has thrown her veil over the scene.