PHILADELPHIA CONFERENCE, 1803—BRISTOL CIRCUIT.
The Philadelphia Conference met at Duck Creek Cross Roads, now Smyrna, in
May, 1803, in the meeting-house of the Friends, so that we could have our
own to preach in. This we did several times a day.
Methodism was introduced into this place in 1779. Among the early
Methodists here was Joseph Wyatt, who joined the conference in 1781,
and located in 1788. His house was the preaching place till the church
was built. Also, Alexander M’Lane, who gave the site on which the
church was built; he and his wife were excellent members. He was an old
Revolutionary soldier under Washington, as well as a valiant soldier
under the great Captain of our salvation. He was father of the Hon. Louis
M’Lane, a member of General Jackson’s cabinet and minister to England,
and of Robert M’Lane, minister to Mexico, both of whom were baptized by
Bishop Asbury. I was well acquainted with this family. Near their farm
lived Sarah, daughter of Thomas White, Bishop Asbury’s early friend. She
married Dr. Cook, who became a prominent Methodist. George Kennard was
also a pillar in the infant Church, and his house was my home during
conference.
At Brother Kennard’s I met my dear aged father, who had come to attend
the conference. I made this record: “Glory to God that we are brought to
see each others’ faces in the land of hope.”
On Monday, May 2, the conference commenced its session. In the evening
Brother Richard Swain[7] preached from, “To-day shalt thou be with me
in Paradise.” A glorious time: my soul, magnify thou the Lord. We had a
powerful prayer-meeting at six in the morning. It was the custom in those
days to have a prayer meeting early in the morning during conference, and
they were refreshing seasons. Preachers and people were in the habit of
rising earlier than they do now; they had not learned to turn midnight
into noon.
I heard, during the session, a number of admirable sermons: one from
Richard Sneath, on Matt, vi, 10, “Thy kingdom come;” another by Thomas
Foster, from Isaiah xlv, 18, a profitable and pointed discourse; the
power of God rested on the congregation. I also heard “Black Harry,” who
traveled with Bishop Asbury and Freeborn Garrettson. He was a perfect
character; could neither read nor write, and yet was very eloquent. His
text was, “Man goeth to his long home;” his sermon was one of great
eloquence and power. The preachers listened to this son of Ham with great
wonder, attention, and profit. I shall say something more concerning him.
I made this record in my journal: “Throughout the whole this was a
comfortable and profitable conference; the business was done in love
and harmony. The conference continued _four_ days. There were about
one hundred preachers. Bishops Asbury and Whatcoat were both present.
Twenty-four were ordained: twelve deacons and twelve elders.”
Bishop Whatcoat preached from 1 Peter v, 10: “But the God of all grace,
who hath called us to his eternal glory,” etc. The sermon was most
powerful. It was one of the most melting times I ever witnessed; the
theme suited him. I was ordained a deacon at this conference, and took
the solemn vows of God upon me. I was in the regular succession, for I
was ordained by Richard Whatcoat, who was ordained by Wesley. Of the
twenty-four who were ordained at the conference, and the venerated
bishops who presided, not one remains but myself; the rest sleep in
honored sepulchers.
BLACK HARRY.
Having heard this African preach, I have been asked a great many
questions concerning him. The preaching of a colored man was, in those
days, a novelty. Harry traveled with Bishop Asbury as early as 1782;
also with Dr. Coke, Bishop Whatcoat, and Freeborn Garrettson. Crowds
flocked to hear him, not only because he was a colored man, but because
he was eloquent. Mr. Asbury wished him to travel with him for the benefit
of the colored people.
Some inquire whether he was really black, or whether Anglo-Saxon blood
was not mixed in his veins? Harry was very black, an African of the
Africans. He was so illiterate he could not read a word. He would repeat
the hymn as if reading it, and quote his text with great accuracy. His
voice was musical, and his tongue as the pen of a ready writer. He was
unboundedly popular, and many would rather hear him than the bishops.
In 1790 he traveled with Mr. Garrettson through New England and a part
of New York. In Hudson Mr. Garrettson says: “I found the people curious
to hear Harry. I therefore declined, that their curiosity might be
satisfied. The different denominations heard him with much admiration,
and the Quakers thought, as he was unlearned, he must speak by immediate
inspiration.” Another time he says: “Harry exhorted after me to the
admiration of the people.” Again, near Gen. Van Courtland’s, he says:
“The people of this circuit are amazingly fond of hearing Harry.” In
Canaan, Conn., Mr. Garrettson preached, and says: “Harry preached after
me with much applause.” The same afternoon Mr. Garrettson preached in
Salisbury, and adds: “I have never seen so tender a meeting in this town
before, for a general weeping ran through the congregation, especially
when Harry gave an exhortation.”
Dr. Rush heard him and admired his eloquence. Dr. Coke heard him preach,
soon after his arrival in America, on the Peninsula, and said, “I am well
pleased with Harry’s preaching.”
’Tis painful to mar a picture so beautiful. Gladly I will leave it as
it is. But, alas! poor Harry was so petted and made so much of that he
became lifted up. Falling under the influence of strong drink, he made
shipwreck of the faith, and for years he remained in this condition. He
was afterward reclaimed, and died in peace in Philadelphia in 1810, and
was buried in Kensington.
BRISTOL CIRCUIT IN 1803.
I was appointed this year to Bristol Circuit; John Bethel was my
colleague. I rode home to Lancaster with my venerable father. We were
accompanied by several preachers: Jacob Gruber, James Ridgeway, J.
Dunham, Gideon Draper, and Benjamin Bidlack, the latter so graphically
described by Dr. Peck. We had preaching every night.
Before I returned to my circuit I took a tour with my father. We went to
New Holland and tarried with John Davis. On Sunday my father preached,
as he always did, in German, from “The Spirit and the Bride say, Come,”
etc. After the sermon the Lord’s Supper was administered, and Jesus was
made known to us in the breaking of bread.
On May 18, after these seasons of refreshing, I started for my circuit
full of the spirit of my Master. I went to Germantown, then to Tullytown.
I preached there on the 28th on “Acquaint now thyself with God,” etc. At
the conclusion of the sermon a man who was intoxicated reeled into the
school-house with a tumbler full of strong drink, and offered it to me.
The tavern was opposite the school-house, and a number of “lewd fellows
of the baser sort” had gathered there. They could have had no idea that
I would drink of their fire-water. They wanted some fun with a Methodist
preacher, or to discourage him so that he would not come again.
I preached also in Germantown. This place is within ten years as old as
Philadelphia. It was called Germantown because it was founded by Germans.
They were from the Palatinate.
Germantown was the birthplace of David Rittenhouse the astronomer.
Often have I seen the old house where he was born, and the mill where
he studied his first lessons. His father was a paper manufacturer. My
father preached in Germantown for many years, and was well acquainted
with the Rittenhouses. The old people were Mennonites, and hence their
acquaintance with my father, who was a Mennonite preacher.
In 1802-3 the Methodists had had scarcely a foothold in Germantown. There
was a small class, but the members were poor and of but little influence.
They had preached in the school-house, but were now excluded from it.
This was from prejudice against “a sect everywhere spoken against.” I
concluded we ought to have a church of our own there where we could
preach the Gospel without the fear of the doors being closed against us.
It was in my parish, and I felt the importance of cultivating this part
of Immanuel’s land.
Brother Ezekiel Cooper was book agent in Philadelphia. I went and
informed him of the state of things, and he advised me to circulate a
subscription to build a church. He wrote a subscription, and I circulated
it. I do not wish to boast, but simply to state a fact: the preacher in
charge had a salary of eighty dollars, and he headed the subscription
with forty dollars.
In my journal, February 9, 1803, I wrote: “In Germantown I tried to
get a meeting-house started. We got upward of one hundred dollars on
subscription in part of one day. If we had only one or two leading men
the work, I believe, would go on.” I even prayed for them, for this
follows: “O Lord, the hearts of all men are in thy hands; do thou look in
mercy upon us.” Has not this prayer, offered fifty-nine years ago, been
answered?
Several hundred dollars were soon after subscribed, and we immediately
secured a site and prepared for the erection of a small house. We
appointed a committee to superintend the erection of the building. It
consisted of five persons: two members of the Church, and three who were
not members. The appointment of a majority of outsiders on the committee
showed two things: 1. The scarcity of Methodist timber for material. 2.
The friendly feeling of others toward this new enterprise. I made a short
visit to Philadelphia, and on my return I jotted down the following: “I
came back to Germantown, where I met the committee. They all seemed to
be in good spirits about the meeting-house. O may the Lord prosper his
blessed work in this town!”
In circulating the subscription among the Germans it greatly aided me
when they learned I was a son of “Elder Boehm.” My father had preached
there years before, and they were pleased with him, and many of them
gave me a ten-dollar subscription for our new church. Soon after some
influential families were converted, which gave character and stability
to Methodism in this place. Such was the origin of the first Methodist
house of worship in Germantown. It is now a large place, and an arm of
Philadelphia. The Methodists have there two churches: 483 members, and
116 probationers; in all, 509, and Church property worth $36,000.
What a mighty change since the school-house was closed against us, and
we, like Noah’s dove, found no rest for the sole of our foot! To God be
all the glory.
Some striking incidents occurred on this circuit. Near Bristol there
was a wild, fast young man, who was awakened under very singular
circumstances. He wished to frighten some of the neighbors on their
way from meeting; so one night he fastened some horns on his head, and
covered himself with the skin of a beast with the hair on, and said he
was the devil; but instead of frightening others, he frightened himself,
and resolved to leave the service of the devil and become a servant of
God.
I preached at Mr. Heath’s, a little below Morrisville. There were two
brothers, who were mechanics, and in partnership, working in a shop
about forty yards from the preaching place. One got ready for meeting,
and asked his brother if he would not go. He said he could not spare the
time, and added, “You had better stick to your work also.” He replied,
“I am determined to go to meeting, let the consequences be as they may.”
After he was gone the brother who stayed home with a determination
to work was suddenly taken sick with a violent fever, and instead of
working, he was not able to help himself even to a drink of water, and he
was in perfect misery all the time his brother was gone. As soon as his
brother returned the fever left him, and he was able to join his brother
in work. When I came round on the circuit the same thing occurred over
again, that made it still more strange. At the next appointment for
preaching both the brothers went to hear the word, and we were invited to
make their shop a regular preaching-place, which we did, as it was much
more convenient than the other.
Near Morristown, on this circuit, a house of worship had been erected by
the Rev. Mr. Demer, who also built the Forrest Chapel in Berks County.
He was a Swedish minister. When he first heard the Rev. Joseph Pilmoor,
one of Mr. Wesley’s missionaries, preach in Philadelphia, he welcomed
him as a minister of God preaching the truth as it was in Jesus, and
after a time his Church property and the society were transferred to the
Methodists. My colleague and myself used to preach there.
There was a serious difficulty among some of the most prominent members
and families which threatened the destruction of the society. Various
attempts had been made to settle it, but all to no purpose; the storm
still raged. My colleague, Thomas Everhard, tried, but it was labor in
vain. I resolved, as the charge then devolved on me, in the name of the
God of peace to try and settle the affair. I knew that if we did not it
would destroy that Church root and branch, and that “Ichabod” would soon
be written upon the deserted wall of their sanctuary. When I came round
I found the society all at logger-heads. It was a perfect Babel. I was
young in the ministry, and greatly exercised to know how to restore
peace. I preached, and the society came together afterward, and each
opened his budget of grievances. And after searching into the origin of
the difficulty, I found it was much ado about nothing. It commenced with
evil surmising, and this led to evil words. My impression was it could
never be settled in the ordinary way, for there was nothing definite;
there were no tangible points. I then told them I had a plan for
disposing of the whole matter at once. I told them my plan was that all
should agree to settle the difficulty at once and forever by burying it
very deep. Both parties with tears agreed to it. We dug its grave deep,
we buried it, and then prayed that it might never have a resurrection.
There was not a single mourner at the funeral, but a general rejoicing.
I invited all who were in favor of burying it and living hereafter in
Christian fellowship to rise. They all stood up; tears flowed freely;
they embraced and forgave each other. Best of all, it stayed settled.
They did not in burying the hatchet leave the handle sticking out so
that they could get hold of it and renew the war, but buried handle and
all. The old people have been gathered to their fathers. They lived and
died in peace and harmony, and to this day their children and children’s
children bless me. I saw one of the sons years after, and he spoke with
gratitude of the day when that old difficulty was buried, and when Zion
became a quiet habitation.
This was at Supplee’s Chapel, the oldest Methodist house of worship in
Pennsylvania except St. George’s. Joseph Pilmoor early preached here. The
Supplees also heard Captain Webb. Abraham Supplee was a local preacher.
I was often his guest. This chapel was used as a hospital for our sick
and wounded soldiers after the battle of Germantown, and a number of the
soldiers died and were buried here. Several of the officers made Abraham
Supplee’s house their home. Washington was often there, having his
headquarters in the neighborhood.
It was an old stone chapel, and was afterward called Bethel. Many of
our early chapels were built of stone, which was abundant, cheap, and
durable. Indeed, the first Methodist chapel in America was built of
stone, namely, Wesley Chapel in New York.