Mountain Range.--Manners of an Itinerant.--Preaching in a
Tavern-house.--How to avoid Insults.--Hospitality.--Reaches
Crab-Orchard.--Preachers in Kentucky.--Baptists; “Regulars” and
“Separatists.”--Principles of Doctrine.--School-Teaching.--
Master O’Cafferty and His Qualities.
A range of high mountains is to be seen on the map, running in a
south-western direction, and separating the State of Virginia from
Kentucky; and then passing in a diagonal direction across Tennessee
into Georgia. This range gives rise to the Sandy, Kentucky, and
Cumberland rivers, on the north-western side, and the Clinch and
Holston, the principal branches of the Tennessee river, on the
south-eastern side. Through this range of mountains is a singular
depression, called the “Cumberland Gap,” through which the first
emigrants from Virginia and North Carolina passed to Kentucky. And
through this “Pass” runs the great highway that has been traveled for
threescore years, from the south-eastern to the north-western States.
The range of mountains is from thirty to fifty miles in width, and in
the central part rises up in immense rocky ranges. The “Gap” is at
the south-western corner of Virginia, and the south-eastern corner of
Kentucky, where the extreme points of these States touch the northern
boundary of Tennessee. Mountains are piled on mountains through this
region. In the vicinity of the Gap is a ledge of black rocks near the
summit, which extends thirty miles, with a perpendicular fall to the
south-east, of two hundred feet. The Pine Mountain is on the border of
Knox county, in Kentucky, and presents to the eye of the traveler a
scene of sublimity and grandeur, not exceeded in mountain views. There
is a view, the wildest and most romantic, where the Cumberland river
passes through a gorge, dashing and foaming at a terrific rate. Here
the limestone cliffs rise to the height of thirteen hundred feet.
Standing on a high precipice, from which the eye could range over a
vast extent of country, on a clear and pleasant day in the month of
March, a traveler was seen gazing on the scenery around him. Though
his dress was soiled by a long journey, every feature and action were
familiar to the observer. It is the Itinerant preacher, whom we left
near the Savannah river a few weeks since; and he has ascended the
mountain several hundred feet above the Gap, to feast his eyes on the
stupendous works of Infinite wisdom and power. His mind expands with
the mountain scenery; his imagination has carried him back to his
native land; his adoring thoughts ascend to the Bestower of every good,
for the protection he has enjoyed; hope burns bright in his eyes, for
in the direction he is now gazing are spread out the fertile vales of
Kentucky, to which he is bound.
He has traveled through Greenville District, in South Carolina,
Buncombe County in North Carolina, and across East Tennessee. He has
forded or swam the creeks and rivers on his route, but makes no
complaint of fatigue, suffering, or danger. He had a small sum of money
to pay his expenses, was never obtrusive, yet rarely did he fail of
finding friends, and frequently religious families, who delighted to
exercise their hospitality on so inoffensive a traveler. Unless the
weather proved stormy, he traveled five days each week, and put up for
Saturday and Sabbath in the bounds of some religious congregation, or
in some destitute settlement where he could preach the Gospel.
Some ministers, even while young, are very annoying to families, by
expecting personal attentions, seeming not to think how much they
impose on hospitable families. Father Clark was particularly careful
never to give the least trouble that he could avoid, and hence all who
knew him were the more ready to receive him. He expected and desired
no special attention as a minister; attended to his own personal
affairs, and put no family to any inconvenience. He never assumed the
ministerial character, put on no airs of dignity, and if he led the
conversation, he could give it a religious turn without offence to any
one; and he would leave the best impressions on the family without
any apparent effort. Again and again, he was solicited to stay and
preach with the people, with assurances of every aid he might need. On
two or three occasions contributions were made privately and handed
to him, where he spent a Sabbath and preached the Gospel, until it
became painful to his feelings to receive such gratuities, as he needed
nothing.
Two days before we found him on the mountain summit, he had tarried
at a noted tavern at the foot of the long and steep mountain called
Clinch. Here were men with pack-horses and peltry, on their way to
the settlements in the old States. Explorers to the new countries of
Tennessee and Kentucky, put up at this tavern. There was drinking,
gaming, profane swearing, and all manner of vulgar and blackguard
language. Mr. Clark supposed the time would pass very unpleasantly, but
an elderly gentleman, who was on his way to Kentucky as an explorer,
happened to fall into conversation, and found him to be a religious
man, and on putting the question direct, the fact was acknowledged
that he was a preacher. This gentleman conferred with two or three
other persons of his acquaintance, and after consulting the landlord,
proposed they should have religious worship before they retired. It
met with general approbation. Every one present knew it was a free
country, and he might stay or retire. Those in the heat of gaming, and
half-sprung with whiskey, could have had a room for their favorite
amusements, but cards were laid aside, and the landlord declared he
never heard any say they regretted having spent an hour that night in
hearing the stranger give a lecture. His preaching and exhortations
were never in the form of denunciation, though pointed and plain, and
well adapted to touch and arouse the slumbering consciences of sinners.
He never failed to give evidence that his sympathies were awakened on
their behalf; that he _felt_ for guilty sinners, and desired to do them
good.
He did not rail against drunkards, gamblers, and profane swearers, in
his discourse, or manifest the least annoyance in conversation with
any person; and yet all these vicious indulgences ceased, and every
swearing reprobate seemed to put a double guard on his lips. All the
company rested quietly, and arose cheerfully in the morning. The
gentleman who had invited Mr. Clark to preach, approached the landlord
privately, and proposed to pay the stranger’s bill when he settled his
own. “No, sir,” said the landlord, “that gentleman has been a welcome
guest in my family, for they have had comfortable rest, and if it had
not been for him, we should have had drinking, swearing, and fighting
through the night, to the annoyance of all quiet people.”
When Mr. Clark called for his bill after breakfast, as he was about to
depart on his journey, he received for answer, “Your bill, sir, is more
than paid. It is not customary to charge preachers, though every one of
that class who travels this road don’t keep the house in as good order
as you did last night. But you are welcome to the best I have, every
time you pass this way.”
Down the mountain range, towards Crab-Orchard, the country was thinly
settled. Every eight or ten miles was a cluster of log-cabins, with
stabling of the same materials, a rack to hitch horses at in front, and
occasionally a rudely daubed sign on a post, that on close inspection
might indicate that “_private entertainment_” could be had there.
No public houses existed in that region, unless in a town or county
seat, where lawyers and clients, judges and jurymen, could purchase
intoxicating liquors to wash down their corn-bread and bacon on
court days. Every farmer through the country, who lived on a great
road, and had a supply of “corn and fodder” for horses, “and chicken
fixin’s,” and “corn dodgers,” with comfortable beds for travelers,
kept “private entertainment.” No one thought of getting a license and
selling intoxicating drinks. The bottle or jug of whiskey was always
set on the table at such houses of entertainment, with a bowl of sugar,
and a pitcher of water fresh from the spring, and “help yourselves,
strangers,” was the courteous invitation. Whether the traveler drank
more or less, or none at all, made not the least difference in his
bill. Fifty cents for horse-keeping, supper, and lodging, was the
uniform price for nearly half a century, at these country houses of
entertainment throughout this valley. And if any one had charged Father
Clark, a quarter or three bits[30] was ample compensation.
It was early in April when our Itinerant reached the vicinity of
Crab-Orchard, in Lincoln County. Hearing there was an appointment for
preaching in the neighborhood, he went with the family with whom he
had put up. The preacher was a plain frontier-looking man, dressed in
the costume of the country; a hunting-shirt of dressed deer-skins,
and trowsers of cotton and wool mixed, of very coarse texture, colored
brown with the bark of a species of the white walnut tree.[31] The
house where the people assembled was a double log cabin, rough hewn,
and when all had gathered, it contained about seventy-five or eighty
persons. The name of the preacher was Jolliff; and he preached the
Gospel to his neighbors and the people generally, as opportunity
offered, without any thought about compensation in this life. He was
a plain, unlearned preacher, and enforced such truth as he understood
on the minds of his hearers. He had been, and perhaps was still a
Methodist preacher of the local order, but he afterwards joined a class
of Baptists called _Separates_ in Kentucky.
Mr. Clark’s dress we have already described, but it was in a style
somewhat in advance of the good people in Kentucky, who lived many
hundred miles distant from any market, and were compelled to live
in a plain, rough way. Mr. Jolliff fell into conversation with the
stranger, while the people were gathering, found out his business in
the country, and insisted he should preach. Apologies and excuses are
useless on such occasions for those ministers who keep their minds in
habitual preparation to say something to the people on any sudden call,
and Mr. Clark, though a modest man, who never put himself forward,
consented. The people listened with attention, and spoke of him as “a
right smart preacher.” Some doubted what others affirmed, that he was
a learned man, for he was so plain and simple in his language, and his
illustrations were from things so common, that they understood every
word.
Mr. Jolliff, who lived several miles from the place of meeting, was so
much pleased with the discourse, that he persuaded Mr. Clark to attend
the meeting in his neighborhood on the following Saturday and Sabbath,
and to come to his house on Friday evening.
There were a number of preachers in Lincoln and the adjacent counties,
all Baptists, though somewhat divided on certain points of doctrine,
and not altogether friendly in ministerial intercourse. Each possessed
his share of the imperfections of human character; each was more or
less selfish; petty rivalries prevailed, and small differences were
magnified, as each party looked at the other through the medium of
prejudice. In a word, the pioneer preachers of Kentucky, were very
much like the ministers of the Gospel in every age, nation, and
country; no better, no worse; only a little more frank, and even blunt
in their personal intercourse, and did not conceal their thoughts
and emotions with the same ingenuity and tact as has been done in
some places. Hence, if there were petty jealousies, rivalries, and
surmisings, (all of which traits are wrong and unchristian every
where,) they let their passions be seen, and the want of union and
mutual coöperation was the natural result.
There were two principal divisions amongst Baptists in Kentucky, which
were brought with them from Virginia and the Carolinas. The parties
were called “_Regular_,” and “_Separate_.” These parties originated
more than forty years before the period of our history.
The Regular Baptists in the Middle States originated from Wales; and in
several instances, churches already organized came over as colonists.
They settled mostly in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and a corner of
Delaware and Maryland, towards the close of the seventeenth, and during
the eighteenth centuries, previous to the American revolution. At a
later period, the descendants of these early colonists removed south,
and formed the nucleus of churches in Virginia, and even in North
and South Carolina. The doctrines they taught, as they interpreted
the Scriptures, may be found in a little book commonly called the
“Philadelphia Confession of Faith,” because it was revised, adopted and
published by the Philadelphia Baptist Association in 1742.[32]
All true Baptists take the word of God, the inspired writings, as their
_sole rule_ of faith and practice. There were some diversities among
the Regular Baptists about certain doctrinal principles, as there
were also among the Separates. These diversities in some localities
prevented for a time cordial union, correspondence and coöperation,
chiefly because they misunderstood each other in their modes of
explanation. The differences in all the parties consisted in the way
each party reasoned on abstruse points. Each put that construction on
the language employed by the other that accorded with the peculiar
technical meaning he attached to the same words.
The “Separate Baptists” originated in Virginia and the Carolinas from
two leading ministers who, with their adherents, came from New England
about 1754. The leaders were Shubael Stearns and Daniel Marshall. These
men were Congregationalists, and belonged to a party that _separated_
from the old Puritan Congregationalists of New England; being less
Calvinistic in doctrine, and believing that such men as had grace,
gifts, and a “call of God” to the ministry, ought to preach the
Gospel if they had no collegiate education. This party were at first
Pædobaptists; that is, they believed and practiced infant baptism on
the faith and the covenant relation of the parents; but gradually
they gave up this practice, and in the end most of the ministers and
members of this party joined the Baptist churches.
Elder Stearns became a Baptist, and was ordained in Connecticut, but
led by impressions of mind, with several relatives and brethren,
removed south to Virginia, where Mr. Marshall joined him; and then
to Guilford county, N. C., where they constituted a church. While in
New England, these Separates had acquired a warm, pathetic style of
preaching, and exhibited intense feelings. They had a sing-song tone,
and their manner of preaching got hold of the hearts of the people and
produced much preternatural excitement. Their hearers shed tears, cried
out under great distress, and shouted in ecstacy on a revulsion of
feelings. In a few months they had baptized about six hundred converts.
Several warm-hearted, zealous preachers were raised up; one of the most
gifted was James Read, who was very successful in Virginia.
At the first no distinctive names were attached to these parties, but
the Separates from New England kept that name, which provoked the other
party to call themselves “Regular Baptists.” This name originated
with Elder David Thomas, of Virginia, who possessed great influence,
and was regarded by his brethren as a leader. Occasionally, and
especially in seasons of revival, the ministers would coöperate, but
the parties remained distinct, with the usual amount of shyness and
non-intercourse, common in such divisions.
From the position we now occupy, it is easy to perceive that both
parties had mistaken views, and employed inappropriate language to
express gospel truth. The things for which they were the most tenacious
were their opinions, or speculations; and many points were discussed in
their discourses that were of no advantage to truth. On the disputed
topics both parties “darkened council by words without knowledge.”[33]
An extensive revival of religion in Virginia brought about a union
between the Regular and Separate Baptists in 1787; a religious platform
expressing their views in common was adopted, and the parties laid
aside their distinctive names and took that of UNITED BAPTISTS.
The emigration of Baptists from Virginia to Kentucky commenced near the
close of the revolutionary war, and the old lines of distinction were
kept up there for about sixteen years longer. South of the Kentucky
river, a majority of the churches were Separate Baptists, at the period
of the visit of Father Clark.[34]
Mr. Clark attended the appointment on Saturday and Sabbath with Mr.
Jolliff, and preached with his accustomed fervor and ability. The
people who heard him were much interested, and urged him to stay
amongst them. He found the settlements very deficient in schools; young
men and women could not read, and very few books could be found. In
many instances the teachers were incompetent, and in some instances
too immoral to be trusted with the training of youth. He saw around
him a wide field of usefulness. There were occasional revivals, but
in general a religious dearth prevailed over the State. Revivals had
existed to a greater extent in past years, but a general declension
had followed, and a low standard of morals and religion existed. The
Indian war on the north-western territory kept the country in agitation
until after Wayne’s victory in 1794, and the treaty of Greenville the
following year. The tide of immigration was now setting strong from
the Atlantic States to Kentucky, while a class of its population were
on the move to the territory north-west of the Ohio, and even to the
province of Upper Louisiana. Infidelity, combined with liberalism,
came in like a flood and threatened to sweep away every vestige of
Christianity.
Under these circumstances, and on the solicitation of many worthy
citizens, Mr. Clark believed it to be his duty to teach school.
This would not prevent him from preaching the gospel, for he would
have Saturday and Sabbath in each week for that purpose. The people
furnished him a cabin, such an one as he had occupied in Georgia, for a
school house. In one particular he was singular. He drew up no article
of agreement, made no conditions about the number of scholars, and
exacted no pay; but left the whole arrangement about the terms of the
school with the people who patronized him; only requesting them to
furnish him with board and lodging at their houses, or log cabins, and
such articles of clothing as he might need. Some thought him slightly
deranged; others, from their habit of surmising evil of all strangers
whose notions differed from theirs, fancied he had some sinister design.
The school opened, and about twenty stout lads and lasses were there
the first day. Mr. Clark received each one with a pleasant, smiling
countenance, gave them his hand in friendly greeting as they approached
him, with a cheerful “good morning,” and appeared at once to be on
friendly terms. This conduct on the part of the schoolmaster, was,
to them, a new feature in discipline. They had been accustomed to be
greeted with a wand of hickory or hazel, (the genuine _birch_ not being
a growth of that region) and a stern, commanding voice. The predecessor
of Mr. Clark was a rough looking Irishman, with a red face, and of
violent passions. He was a disciple of Father Badin, the Roman Catholic
missionary at Bardstown, and sent to Lincoln county--
“To rear the tender thought,
And teach the young idea
How to shoot”
in the direction of “Holy Mother Church.” In this particular item his
services were gratuitous; but he was unsuccessful in all he undertook,
whether publicly or privately. He lacked every qualification for a
successful emissary in the charitable designs of the good father. Mr.
O’Cafferty made slow progress in retailing science and literature
during the six months he engaged to teach school on Flat Creek, and
such was the turmoil among his subjects, and so much whiskey did he
punish weekly, that he found it economical to accept the compromise
proposed by his employers and be off, on half pay for the last term.