FIRST VISIT TO NEW YORK CITY—NEW YORK AND NEW ENGLAND CONFERENCES.
On Monday, May 7, 1809, we left Newark for New York. Crossing the
beautiful Passaic river, and then the Hackensack, we passed a singular
elevation called Snake Hill, and then through Bergen, an old Dutch town
almost as old as New York. From Bergen Hill we had a magnificent view
of the beautiful bay of New York and of the city. For the first time I
beheld the noble Hudson. At Powles Hook we crossed the river. There was
no Jersey City then. The spot where that city now is appeared to be a
kind of island of sand. There were scarcely any houses. Jersey City was
not incorporated till 1820; now it has thirty thousand inhabitants, and
we have four beautiful Methodist churches there.
Our place of entertainment in New York was John Mills’s, near the
corner of Fulton-street and Broadway. He was an excellent man, an elder
in the “Brick” Presbyterian church, (Dr. Spring’s.) His wife was a
charming woman, and belonged to the John-street Methodist church. They
were wealthy, and left much property to their descendants. They both
possessed catholic spirits, and theirs was a home for all Christian
ministers.
In the evening I went for the first time to the old church in
John-street, built by Philip Embury, called “Wesley Chapel,” the first
in the world named after Mr. Wesley. What thoughts crowded my mind as I
entered this cradle of Methodism! What rich and hallowed associations
cluster around this original home of Methodism on this continent! I
heard a sermon from James i, 27, on pure religion. The next evening, in
the Bowery Church, I heard Samuel Cochrane preach from Rom. v, 1, on
justification by faith. He had a powerful voice and was not afraid to use
it.
On Tuesday morning at four o’clock we were alarmed with the cry of “Fire,
fire, fire!” It was no false alarm; about thirty houses were burned. It
was truly affecting to see parents and children and the aged and helpless
turned out into the street, not knowing where to go. It was the first
large fire I had ever witnessed.
_May 10._ The New York Conference commenced its session in John-street.
This was the first time I ever beheld the men that composed this
conference. This was Bishop M’Kendree’s first visit as superintendent,
and most heartily they welcomed him. There was great love and unanimity
among the brethren. On Friday Bishop M’Kendree preached an ordination
sermon that was much admired. His text was 2 Cor. v, 20, “Now then we
are embassadors for Christ,” etc. After the sermon Bishop Asbury ordained
twelve deacons, among whom were William Swayze, a most blessed man, who
did noble execution afterward in Ohio; Lewis Pease, distinguished for his
zeal and eloquence; and Phineas Rice. When the case of the latter came up
the conference voted that he was “too funny,” and passed the resolution
that Bishop M’Kendree should reprove him. The bishop did so. Years after
Mr. Rice said, that as he had never been to conference before he supposed
that this was the regular process that all young ministers went through,
and therefore did not feel at all unpleasant.
At that time our conferences were held with closed doors, and local
preachers and probationers were not permitted to be present until they
were received into full membership.
Five were ordained elders; ten were received on trial, among others the
excellent Coles Carpenter, Robert Hibbard, who was drowned in the St.
Lawrence, Isaac Puffer, who was known as the traveling concordance,
and the amiable Marvin Richardson. He is the only survivor, enjoying
a green old age, as straight as he was fifty years ago. He resides at
Poughkeepsie, greatly esteemed.
On Sabbath there was a great love-feast in the Hudson Church, now Duane.
There were fourteen hundred guests at the feast. I wrote in my journal:
“It was a blessed time; O my soul, never forget the gracious visitation
this morning! Many cups were made to run over in loud acclamations to God
and the Lamb.” Bishop Asbury preached in the morning, in John-street,
from Mark x, 23, and in Hudson Church in the afternoon, from Rev. ii, 10.
On Monday evening, by special request, I preached in German, in the
English Lutheran Church, from Luke xix, 10, “For the Son of man is come
to seek and to save that which is lost.” Great attention and great
solemnity. Twice more I preached during the week in the Bowery Church,
(now Forsyth-street,) and in the English Lutheran school-house.
Here I saw for the first time the excellent but eccentric Billy Hibbard.
When the roll was called the secretary read the name “William Hibbard.”
There was no response, and Bishop M’Kendree said, “Brother Hibbard, why
don’t you answer to your name and not keep the conference waiting?” “I
will,” said Mr. Hibbard, “when he calls my name.” “Is not your name
William?” “No, sir.” “What is it?” said the bishop. “Billy,” was the
answer. “Billy!” said the bishop, with great emphasis; “that is a little
boy’s name.” “I know it,” said Mr. Hibbard; “I was a very little boy when
my father gave it me.” Then the conference was convulsed with laughter.
When his character was examined it was objected that he was practicing
medicine. Bishop M’Kendree inquired, “Brother Hibbard, are you a
physician?” “I am not,” he replied; “I simply give advice in critical
cases.” “What do you mean by that?” asked the bishop. “In critical
cases,” said Mr. Hibbard, “I always advise them to send for a physician.”
There were one hundred and twenty preachers belonging to this conference.
It began in peace and fellowship, which seemed to increase toward the
close, and then a gracious shower of blessings descended on the preachers.
The trustees of the Methodist Church in New York were ever kind to
Bishops Asbury and M’Kendree, and they took good care of their horses.
As a part of the history of the times, and as a curiosity, and to show
the generosity of the trustees, I transcribe an old bill that has been
carefully preserved in good order fifty-five years:
1809. BISHOP ASBURY,
TO PETER ALEXANDER ALLAIRE, Dr.
20th May. To keeping 3 horses from 8th of May, on hay, at 4s £7 4 0
To 9 quarts oats per horse, per day for each horse,
say 27 quarts per day, 324 quarts, at 4d 5 8 0
To keeping 1 horse from 8th of May, on hay, at 4s 2 8 0
To 78 quarts of oats, at 4d 1 6 0
To bleeding bishop’s horse, phisick, fetching, etc. 0 16 0
--------
£17 2 0
--------
$42 75
Received payment from MR. ABRAHAM RUSSEL,
PETER ALEX’R ALLAIRE.
Abraham Russel was a noble man; he was indeed a pillar in the Methodist
temple. The three horses, one was Bishop Asbury’s, the other Bishop
M’Kendree’s, the other mine. The bill was made out to Bishop Asbury.
At another time Bishop M’Kendree paid for his horse-keeping. When the
trustees heard of it they sent him an apology and refunded the money.
On Saturday we went to Tuckahoe, and were kindly entertained at one of
the bishop’s choicest homes, Bishop Sherwood’s. Pages might be written
concerning this most excellent family. Nowhere did the bishop find warmer
hearts or meet with a kinder reception than in the Sherwood cottage. On
Sabbath the bishop preached in the morning at Sherwood’s Chapel. This old
chapel still remains in all its glory, and has been a little improved.
The site was given by the Sherwoods; the ground was staked out by Bishop
Asbury, and the plan of the church given by him. It is in a valley at
the foot of a hill, and surrounded by beautiful locust trees. There is a
burying-ground connected with it, where the early Methodists sleep.
In the afternoon we went to New Rochelle, and were the guests of Peter
Bonnets, one of the oldest Methodists in that place. He was a descendant
of the Huguenots, formerly an Episcopalian, and one of the first trustees
of the Methodist Church in that place, which was organized in 1791.
Crossing the Byram River, which is the dividing line between New York
and Connecticut, I found myself in the land of steady habits. We reached
Norwalk, a place famous in the history of our country. It was burned in
1779 by Governor Tryon. It has an important position in the history of
Methodism, for here in 1789 Jesse Lee first planted the tree of Methodism
in New England, and now one hundred thousand Methodists in the New
England states sit under its shade and partake of its fruit with delight.
Here resided Absalom Day. He was a potter. He lived at what was called
the “Old Well.” In this (Fairfield) county the first class was formed in
New England, and the first Methodist house of worship built, and called
“Lee’s Chapel,” in honor of Jesse Lee.
The bishop preached that evening at Brother Day’s, from Rom. xvi, 24, the
apostolic benediction, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you
all. Amen.” The Methodists had no house of worship then in Norwalk. Many
strong Methodist ministers were born in this county: Nathan Bangs, D.D.,
Heman Bangs, William Thacher, and many others.
We passed on through Fairfield and Bridgeport to Stratford, where we
stayed at Thaddeus Peck’s, one of the bishop’s old homes, then through
Milford, one of the oldest towns in the state, to New Haven, the City
of Elms, no doubt the most beautiful city in America; and here is Yale
College, one of the oldest in the land. We were entertained here at
Pember Jocelin’s.
We journeyed on through beautiful towns to Saybrook, on the Connecticut.
This received its name from Lords Say and Brook, who procured a large
patent of land, of which this was a part. Here the famous “confession of
faith” was drawn up in 1708 known as the “Saybrook Platform.” There was
much all along this route that was enchanting: riding most of the time
in view of Long Island Sound, then crossing the rivers and beholding the
harbors, then through neat and beautiful villages. It was the last of
May, and the peach and other trees were in blossom. Everything looked
beautiful: flowers blooming, birds singing, nature having put on her
loveliest robes, and the air perfumed as if with sweet incense.
The bishop rode in a carriage and I on horseback. The weather or
something else had such an effect upon the bishop’s horse that day that
twice he started to run away, and it was as much as he could do to hold
him, so he took Henry’s horse and rode on his back, and Henry rode in the
chaise, and had no difficulty in managing the bishop’s horse.
In the evening we reached New London, and put up with Mr. Douglass.
The bishop preached at night to two hundred hearers from 1 John ii,
5; I preached next morning, at the early hour of five, to one hundred
hearers, from Matt. v, 6; then we crossed the Thames in a flat-bottomed
sail-boat. The wind being fair we were soon over. Journeying on, we
entered Rhode Island, and crossed the beautiful Narraganset Bay to
Newport. Here we were the guests of Samuel Merwin, the stationed
minister. He was a noble man, then young and in his glory. He was all
courtesy and attention; a Christian gentleman. The bishop preached at
Newport on Sabbath morning and afternoon, and I in the evening.
On Monday we visited Fort Wolcott. Here the bishop preached to the
soldiers from Isaiah lv, 6, 7. Then we went to the school and the
hospital, talking and praying with the soldiers who were sick. I
addressed a number of German soldiers by themselves, then I gave them the
Methodist German tracts, a pamphlet on “The Character of a Methodist,”
and the tract on “Awake Thou that Sleepest,” etc. Among them was a young
man named Shellenbuerger, a native of Switzerland, who had been taken
from his friends at eleven years of age by Napoleon Bonaparte, and then
by the British; afterward he came to America, where he enlisted. He was
very serious, and thankfully received the tracts.
Captain Beal had charge of the fort. He was a fine man, a Christian
gentleman, a Methodist. The bishop greatly admired the order and
discipline at the fort; indeed, he was an admirer of discipline
everywhere, in the family and in the Church.
On we rode through various towns and villages, preaching Jesus, till
Saturday, when we reached Boston, and were there entertained by Widow
Lewis. We had but two chapels then in Boston, the “Old” and the “New.”
The bishop preached in both, and so did I. Elijah R. Sabin and Philip
Munger were the stationed preachers in Boston, both good men and true.
The next day we went to Waltham, and were entertained by Abram Bemis.
He possessed much of the spirit of Abram of old, who was given to
hospitality, and who entertained strangers and sometimes angels. George
Pickering married into this family. There were four generations living in
that house: the great-grandfather, Abram Bemis, was in his ninety-second
year; and the oldest grandson, Asbury Pickering, was about twelve. This
was one of the leading families of Methodism in New England. The bishop
preached here from 2 Peter iii, 14.
The next day found us at Lynn, the cradle of Methodism in Massachusetts.
The first Methodist chapel was built here; the first New England
Conference was held here; and Enoch Mudge, the first native preacher in
New England, was born here. We put up with Benjamin Johnson. The bishop
preached on Thursday from Hab. ii, 3; and I the next morning at five
o’clock from Psalm xxxiv, 8, “O taste and see,” etc. I have had the honor
of preaching in the oldest house of worship in Massachusetts, as well as
the oldest on the Peninsula, and the oldest in America.
We passed through many important places: Marblehead, Salem, Newburyport,
etc., to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. This was my first introduction to the
old Granite State. We put up at Friend Hutchins’s, and stayed over the
Sabbath, the bishop preaching twice and I once.
On Monday we started for Monmouth, in the Province of Maine. (Maine was
then attached to Massachusetts, and was not admitted into the Union till
1820.) We fell in with John Broadhead, George Pickering, and Elijah
Metcalf, who were on their way to conference. They were most excellent
company. We went as far as Saco Falls, and as Methodist homes were scarce
we went on our own hook and put up at Moody’s tavern. The day we reached
Monmouth we stopped at a tavern, and the following scene is described by
the Rev. Ebenezer F. Newell: “After we had rested half an hour Bishop
Asbury said, ‘We must have prayers before we leave; I will go and give
notice to the landlord, and some of you must pray.’ I followed him to
the bar-room to learn his way of proceeding in such a case. He said,
‘Landlord, we are going to have prayers in our room, and if you or any
of your family wish to attend we should be happy to have you.’ ‘Thank
you, sir,’ he replied; ‘please wait until I speak not only to my family,
but my neighbors.’ Soon they flocked in; we sung and prayed, and melting
mercy moved our hearts. When our bill was called for we were told there
was no demand against us, and were requested to call again.”[23] The
course of the bishop surprised Brother Newell, but to me it was almost
an every-day occurrence in traveling. It was Asbury’s invariable custom.
Even the night before, where we put up at the tavern, the bishop proposed
having prayers; they objected, but he insisted upon it, so we had prayers
both evening and morning.
On Thursday, June 16, 1809, the New England Conference commenced its
session. Both Asbury and M’Kendree were present. This was Bishop
M’Kendree’s first visit to New England as superintendent, and everywhere
he was regarded with peculiar interest. We put up with a Brother Derbin.
There was peace and good order throughout the session from beginning to
end. There was a camp-meeting held in connection with the conference. I
preached on the camp-ground to about eight hundred on Friday, from Matt.
xi, 28, 29.
Doctor Stevens in his Memorials says: “M’Kendree was present, but we have
no notice of the part he took in the proceedings.” Perhaps I alone am
left to supply the deficiency. First, he presided, with dignity, a part
of the time. Secondly, he preached two never-to-be-forgotten sermons: the
first on Saturday at noon, from Rom. vi, 22, “But now being made free
from sin, ye become servants to God, and have your fruit unto holiness,
and the end everlasting life.” The dignity, freedom, fruit, and end of a
Christian were dwelt upon, after which Bishop Asbury ordained twenty-two
deacons. At three o’clock John Broadhead preached from John iii, 1,
“Behold what manner of love,” etc. Adopting love was his glorious theme,
which he handled in a workmanlike manner.
Sunday was a high day in Monmouth; we had five sermons. At six in the
morning Bishop M’Kendree preached from Rev. ii, 10, on fidelity unto
death, and its reward. At ten Bishop Asbury preached in the grove to
three thousand people, from Isaiah xliv, 23, “Sing, O ye heavens; for
the Lord hath done it,” etc. He regarded it as an “open season.” My
impression is that Bishop M’Kendree ordained the elders after this
discourse. This was their custom: one ordained the deacons, the other the
elders. Then George Pickering preached from Luke xix, 5, on the talents
given, and man’s responsibility.
At half past two Martin Ruter preached from Job xix, 25, 26, “For I know
that my Redeemer liveth,” etc. Job’s knowledge of a living Redeemer and
the resurrection of the body at the last day was his theme. These sermons
were preached on the camp-ground to crowds. There was great attention and
solemnity, and much good was done. Several professed to be converted. At
five o’clock I preached in the meeting-house from Prov. xviii, 10. Thus
ended this memorable Sabbath.
There were noble men at this conference: two future bishops, Joshua
Soule and Elijah Hedding; also John Broadhead, Thomas Branch, Elijah
Sabin, and many others. Eighteen were received on trial, among whom were
George Gary, then a boy of fifteen, but he was a boy with a man’s head;
John Lindsay, whose praise is in the Church; and Edward Hyde of blessed
memory. Joshua Taylor was at this conference, though I think he then held
a local relation.
Here Bishops Asbury and M’Kendree separated for a season, taking
different routes, expecting to meet at the Western Conference, if not
before. Thence we went to Danville in Vermont. This was my introduction
to the Green Mountain State. On Friday we accompanied Solomon Sias to
the house of his mother, an excellent woman. I wrote, “We are weary, but
not forsaken.” We spent the Sabbath and preached in that neighborhood.
In the evening I preached at Widow Sias’s, and John W. Hardy and Solomon
Sias exhorted. On Tuesday the bishop preached in the meeting-house in
Danville, while seated in a pew. No wonder the bishop admired the scenery
during our late route, and wrote: “We have passed many a fertile hill,
and saw many fruitful vales, through which flowed noble rivers.”
On Thursday we were at Montpelier, the capital of the state. The bishop
admired the fine state-house, and said “it was worthy of the seat of
government of Vermont;” and the splendid hotel, which he said “was an
appropriate appendage to the state-house.”
On Friday the bishop preached at Mr. Fuller’s on Lake Champlain. Here he
ordained Joseph Sampson an elder, and sent him as a missionary to his
countrymen in Quebec. Sampson was a Canadian Frenchman, and talked broken
English. In speaking of the Lamb of God he could not think of the word,
so he said “God’s mouton,” the French word for sheep. He did not succeed
in Canada, and afterward was a member of the Philadelphia Conference,
and on my district. He was not a Samson physically or mentally or
theologically. Becoming unsound in doctrine, and denying the divinity of
Christ, he was expelled. He appealed to the General Conference, and the
decision of the Philadelphia Conference was confirmed.
On Saturday we had the company of William Anson, presiding elder of
Ashgrove District, who went with us through Vergennes to Bridport. I
found Brother Anson a most genial man. He told me the Congregationalists
were the “standing order” of ministers in Vermont, and all were taxed
to support them. The Methodists having to support their own ministry
thought it was not fair, so they petitioned the Legislature to have the
law repealed. Their petitions were treated with contempt, and the inquiry
was sneeringly made, “Who are the Methodists?” affecting to be ignorant
of the existence of such a people. The Methodists in the state concluded
that if this was the kind of treatment they were to receive it was time
to show who they were; so they and their friends had an understanding,
and at the election the next year there was, to the astonishment of many,
a general turning over. The new governor and Legislature found out who
the Methodists were, and the obnoxious law was repealed.
We tarried on Sunday night with Luther Chamberlin, who, I believe, was
a relative of Pamerly Chamberlin, late of the New York Conference. Here
we rested near the ruins of Fort Ticonderoga, which was taken in 1775 by
Colonel Ethan Allen of Vermont “in the name of the great Jehovah and the
Continental Congress.” This was the first fortress captured in the war of
the Revolution.
On Tuesday we traveled along Burgoyne’s Road to Fort Edward. This was
called Burgoyne’s Road because he made it through the wilderness for
the use of his army. Here the bishop preached in the store of Dr.
Lawrence to a large and attentive congregation. He preached the next day
at M’Cready’s barn from Rom. viii, 1. Here were the ruins of an old
fort built in 1755. Near here Jane M’Crea met with her tragical end,
being cruelly butchered by the Indians. Here Burgoyne’s army waited six
weeks for provisions, and thus lost the best part of the season, which
seemed to be the beginning of his blunders. We have now at Fort Edward a
splendid literary institute.
The next day we rode by Saratoga Lake to Ballston. Here the bishop
preached in the bar-room of the tavern kept by General Clark, and he
says “had life and liberty.” It was not every minister that could adapt
himself to every place in preaching like the bishop.
On Saturday we visited the springs at Ballston, very celebrated then for
the medicinal qualities of the waters.
The same day we rode forty miles to Kingsbury. Here at a quarterly
meeting we met Bishop M’Kendree with several preachers. On Sunday Bishop
Asbury preached in a grove to a thousand people from Matt. xvii, 5. I
preached immediately after from 1 John i, 9. The bishop says in his
journal, “Brother Boehm closed a meeting of three hours’ continuance.”
The next morning we started with the two bishops for Cayuga Lake. For
several days we traveled together. Bishop Asbury preached, Bishop
M’Kendree exhorted, and I closed with prayer. We passed Utica and reached
Cazenovia, where Bishop M’Kendree parted with us to go to Pittsburgh by
Lake Erie, and we took another route, expecting to meet at the Western
Conference. We went to Manlius Square and to Auburn. The bishop wrote,
“No food or rest to-day.”
We had quite a variety the next day: rain and mud and mud and rain. We
rode six miles to Asa Cummins’s cabin, a humble place twelve feet square,
but a warm reception within. The next day found us on one of the head
branches of the Susquehanna, which was greatly swollen with heavy rains,
so it was considered reckless to attempt to cross. No wonder the bishop
wrote, “We had an awful time on Thursday in the woods among rocks and
trees, living and dead, prostrate, barring our way. When we thought the
bitterness of death was passed, behold the back-water had covered the
causeway.” This was about two miles below Owego. We worked our passage
round the Narrows with the utmost difficulty. However, we got safely
through, to the astonishment of the people, particularly concerning our
carriage. A gentleman by the name of Hathaway was very kind, and rendered
us much assistance.
On Friday we rode to Tioga Point, Pennsylvania, to Dr. Hopkins’s. The
Susquehanna was so high we could not cross, so the bishop preached in the
academy from “Seek ye the Lord,” etc. Here he made this wonderful record,
and who can read it without deep emotion? “Such roads, such rains, and
such lodgings! Why should I stay in this land? I have no possessions
or babes to bind me to the soil. What are called the comforts of life
I rarely enjoy. The wish to live an hour such a life as this would be
strange to so suffering, so toil-worn a wretch; but God is with me, and
souls are my reward. I might fill pages with this week’s wonder.” Dr.
Stevens, in his “Memorials,” says, “It is a pity he didn’t.” Is it not
wonderful that he recorded as much as he did under the circumstances? I
hope my journal will supply in some measure the deficiency. I was not
merely a spectator of the wonderful scenes he hints at, but an actor. In
the daily sacrifices and toils and sufferings I shared. To the bishop’s
every-day martyr-like sufferings I was a witness, and it brings tears
to my eyes now when I think of them. Our appointments were generally
sent forward, and here, in consequence of heavy rains, swollen rivers,
and muddy roads, we were eighty miles behind our Sabbath appointments.
On Saturday, as the waters had abated, we crossed the Susquehanna, and
rode to the mouth of Wyoming Creek, and put up at Stevens’s tavern. On
Sunday we attempted to reach the place where George Lane was preaching,
but we missed it. We met with an accident. The bishop says, “Brother
Boehm upset the sulky and broke the shaft.” The only wonder is we did
not upset twenty times where we did once. It was well I was in the sulky
instead of the old bishop, or he might have fared hard. He might have
had something worse than a “broken shaft:” a broken limb or a broken
neck. This happened on Sunday; but we were traveling from necessity, not
from choice. On Monday we went through the Narrows on the east side, not
without considerable danger; then we crossed to the west side, dined
at our friend Sutton’s, and came to Widow Dennison’s at Kingston. This
is the place where Methodism was first introduced into Wyoming. My old
colleague, Anning Owen, had the distinguished honor of being the pioneer.
This valley is far famed for its beauty. Campbell has immortalized it in
song, and it is embalmed in history. At Kingston we have now a splendid
seminary. The next morning we crossed to Wilkesbarre, a very fine place,
the seat of justice for Luzerne County. We have now a Wyoming Conference.
It did not look much like it then. This region is now the garden of
Methodism.[24]