Camp-Meeting
It was in the course of this summer that I found the opportunity I had
long wished for, of attending a camp-meeting, and I gladly accepted the
invitation of an English lady and gentleman to accompany them in their
carriage to the spot where it is held; this was in a wild district on
the confines of Indiana.
The prospect of passing a night in the back woods of Indiana was by no
means agreeable, but I screwed my courage to the proper pitch, and set
forth determined to see with my own eyes, and hear with my own ears,
what a camp-meeting really was. I had heard it said that being at a
camp-meeting was like standing at the gate of heaven, and seeing it
opening before you; I had heard it said, that being at a camp-meeting
was like finding yourself within the gates of hell; in either case
there must be something to gratify curiosity, and compensate one for
the fatigue of a long rumbling ride and a sleepless night.
We reached the ground about an hour before midnight, and the approach
to it was highly picturesque. The spot chosen was the verge of an
unbroken forest, where a space of about twenty acres appeared to have
been partially cleared for the purpose. Tents of different sizes were
pitched very near together in a circle round the cleared space; behind
them were ranged an exterior circle of carriages of every description,
and at the back of each were fastened the horses which had drawn them
thither. Through this triple circle of defence we distinguished
numerous fires burning brightly within it; and still more numerous
lights flickering from the trees that were left in the enclosure. The
moon was in meridian splendour above our heads.
We left the carriage to the care of a servant, who was to prepare a bed
in it for Mrs. B. and me, and entered the inner circle. The first
glance reminded me of Vauxhall, from the effect of the lights among the
trees, and the moving crowd below them; but the second shewed a scene
totally unlike any thing I had ever witnessed. Four high frames,
constructed in the form of altars, were placed at the four corners of
the enclosure; on these were supported layers of earth and sod, on
which burned immense fires of blazing pinewood. On one side a rude
platform was erected to accommodate the preachers, fifteen of whom
attended this meeting, and with very short intervals for necessary
refreshment and private devotion, preached in rotation, day and night,
from Tuesday to Saturday.
When we arrived, the preachers were silent; but we heard issuing from
nearly every tent mingled sounds of praying, preaching, singing, and
lamentation. The curtains in front of each tent were dropped, and the
faint light that gleamed through the white drapery, backed as it was by
the dark forest, had a beautiful and mysterious effect, that set the
imagination at work; and had the sounds which vibrated around us been
less discordant, harsh, and unnatural, I should have enjoyed it; but
listening at the corner of a tent, which poured forth more than its
proportion of clamour, in a few moments chased every feeling derived
from imagination, and furnished realities that could neither be
mistaken or forgotten.
Great numbers of persons were walking about the ground, who appeared
like ourselves to be present only as spectators; some of these very
unceremoniously contrived to raise the drapery of this tent, at one
comer, so as to afford us a perfect view of the interior.
The floor was covered with straw, which round the sides was heaped in
masses, that might serve as seats, but which at that moment were used
to support the heads and the arms of the close-packed circle of men and
women who kneeled on the floor.
Out of about thirty persons thus placed, perhaps half a dozen were men.
One of these, a handsome looking youth of eighteen or twenty, kneeled
just below the opening through which I looked. His arm was encircling
the neck of a young girl who knelt beside him, with her hair hanging
dishevelled upon her shoulders, and her features working with the most
violent agitation; soon after they both fell forward on the straw, as
if unable to endure in any other attitude the burning eloquence of a
tall grim figure in black, who, standing erect in the centre, was
uttering with incredible vehemence an oration that seemed to hover
between praying and preaching; his arms hung stiff and immoveable by
his side, and he looked like an ill-constructed machine, set in action
by a movement so violent, as to threaten its own destruction, so
jerkingly, painfully, yet rapidly, did his words tumble out; the
kneeling circle ceasing not to call in every variety of tone on the
name of Jesus; accompanied with sobs, groans, and a sort of low howling
inexpressibly painful to listen to. But my attention was speedily
withdrawn from the preacher, and the circle round him, by a figure
which knelt alone at some distance; it was a living image of Scott’s
Macbriar, as young, as wild, and as terrible. His thin arms tossed
above his head, had forced themselves so far out of the sleeves, that
they were bare to the elbow; his large eyes glared frightfully, and he
continued to scream without an instant’s intermission the word “Glory!”
with a violence that seemed to swell every vein to bursting. It was too
dreadful to look upon long, and we turned away shuddering.
We made the circuit of the tents, pausing where attention was
particularly excited by sounds more vehement than ordinary. We
contrived to look into many; all were strewed with straw, and the
distorted figures that we saw kneeling, sitting, and lying amongst it,
joined to the woeful and convulsive cries, gave to each, the air of a
cell in Bedlam.
One tent was occupied exclusively by Negroes. They were all
full-dressed, and looked exactly as if they were performing a scene on
the stage. One woman wore a dress of pink gauze trimmed with silver
lace; another was dressed in pale yellow silk; one or two had splendid
turbans; and all wore a profusion of ornaments. The men were in snow
white pantaloons, with gay coloured linen jackets. One of these, a
youth of coal-black comeliness, was preaching with the most violent
gesticulations, frequently springing high from the ground, and clapping
his hands over his head. Could our missionary societies have heard the
trash he uttered, by way of an address to the Deity, they might perhaps
have doubted whether his conversion had much enlightened his mind.
At midnight a horn sounded through the camp, which, we were told, was
to call the people from private to public worship; and we presently saw
them flocking from all sides to the front of the preachers’ stand. Mrs.
B. and I contrived to place ourselves with our backs supported against
the lower part of this structure, and we were thus enabled to witness
the scene which followed without personal danger. There were about two
thousand persons assembled.
One of the preachers began in a low nasal tone, and, like all other
Methodist preachers, assured us of the enormous depravity of man as he
comes from the hands of his Maker, and of his perfect sanctification
after he had wrestled sufficiently with the Lord to get hold of him,
_et cetera_. The admiration of the crowd was evinced by almost constant
cries of “Amen! Amen!” “Jesus! Jesus!” “Glory! Glory!” and the like.
But this comparative tranquility did not last long: the preacher told
them that “this night was the time fixed upon for anxious sinners to
wrestle with the Lord;” that he and his brethren “were at hand to help
them,” and that such as needed their help were to come forward into
“the pen.” The phrase forcibly recalled Milton’s lines—
“Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold
A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else, the least
That to the faithful herdsman’s art belongs!
—But when they list their lean and flashy songs,
Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw;—
The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed!
But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw,
Rot inwardly—and foul contagion spread.”
“The pen” was the space immediately below the preachers’ stand; we were
therefore placed on the edge of it, and were enabled to see and hear
all that took place in the very centre of this extraordinary
exhibition.
The crowd fell back at the mention of the _pen_, and for some minutes
there was a vacant space before us. The preachers came down from their
stand and placed themselves in the midst of it, beginning to sing a
hymn, calling upon the penitents to come forth. As they sung they kept
turning themselves round to every part of the crowd and, by degrees,
the voices of the whole multitude joined in chorus. This was the only
moment at which I perceived any thing like the solemn and beautiful
effect, which I had heard ascribed to this woodland worship. It is
certain that the combined voices of such a multitude, heard at dead of
night, from the depths of their eternal forests, the many fair young
faces turned upward, and looking paler and lovelier as they met the
moon-beams, the dark figures of the officials in the middle of the
circle, the lurid glare thrown by the altar-fires on the woods beyond,
did altogether produce a fine and solemn effect, that I shall not
easily forget; but ere I had well enjoyed it, the scene changed, and
sublimity gave place to horror and disgust.
The exhortation nearly resembled that which I had heard at “the
Revival,” but the result was very different; for, instead of the few
hysterical women who had distinguished themselves on that occasion,
above a hundred persons,, nearly all females, came forward, uttering
howlings and groans, so terrible that I shall never cease to shudder
when I recall them. They appeared to drag each other forward, and on
the word being given, “let us pray,” they all fell on their knees; but
this posture was soon changed for others that permitted greater scope
for the convulsive movements of their limbs; and they were soon all
lying on the ground in an indescribable confusion of heads and legs.
They threw about their limbs with such incessant and violent motions,
that I was every instant expecting some serious accident to occur.
But how am I to describe the sounds that proceeded from this strange
mass of human beings? I know no words which can convey an idea of it.
Hysterical sobbings, convulsive groans, shrieks and screams the most
appalling, burst forth on all sides. I felt sick with horror. As if
their hoarse and over strained voices failed to make noise enough, they
soon began to clap their hands violently. The scene described by Dante
was before me:-
“Quivi sospiri, pianti, ed alti guai
Risonavan per l’aere—
—Orribili favelle
Parole di dolore, accenti d’ira
Voci alti e fioche, _e suon di man con elle_.”
Many of these wretched creatures were beautiful young females. The
preachers moved about among them, at once exciting and soothing their
agonies. I heard the muttered “Sister! dear sister!” I saw the
insidious lips approach the cheeks of the unhappy girls; I heard the
murmured confessions of the poor victims, and I watched their
tormentors, breathing into their ears consolations that tinged the pale
cheek with red. Had I been a man, I am sure I should have been guilty
of some rash act of interference; nor do I believe that such a scene
could have been acted in the presence of Englishmen without instant
punishment being inflicted; not to mention the salutary discipline of
the treadmill, which, beyond all question, would, in England, have been
applied to check so turbulent and so vicious a scene.
After the first wild burst that followed their prostration, the
meanings, in many instances, became loudly articulate; and I then
experienced a strange vibration between tragic and comic feeling.
A very pretty girl, who was kneeling in the attitude of Canova’s
Magdalene immediately before us, amongst an immense quantity of jargon,
broke out thus: “Woe! woe to the backsliders! hear it, hear it Jesus!
when I was fifteen my mother died, and I backslided, oh Jesus, I
backslided! take me home to my mother, Jesus! take me home to her, for
I am weary! Oh John Mitchel! John Mitchel!” and after sobbing piteously
behind her raised hands, she lifted her sweet face again, which was as
pale as death, and said, “Shall I sit on the sunny bank of salvation
with my mother? my own dear mother? oh Jesus, take me home, take me
home!” Who could refuse a tear to this earnest wish for death in one so
young and so lovely? But I saw her, ere I left the ground, with her
hand fast locked, and her head supported by a man who looked very much
as Don Juan might, when sent back to earth as too bad for the regions
below.
One woman near us continued to “call on the Lord,” as it is termed, in
the loudest possible tone, and without a moment’s interval, for the two
hours that we kept our dreadful station. She became frightfully hoarse,
and her face so red as to make me expect she would burst a
blood-vessel. Among the rest of her rant, she said, “I will hold fast
to Jesus, I never will let him go; if they take me to hell, I will
still hold him fast, fast, fast!”
The stunning noise was sometimes varied by the preachers beginning to
sing; but the convulsive movements of the poor maniacs only became more
violent. At length the atrocious wickedness of this horrible scene
increased to a degree of grossness, that drove us from our station; we
returned to the carriage at about three o’clock in the morning, and
passed the remainder of the night in listening to the ever increasing
tumult at the pen. To sleep was impossible. At daybreak the horn again
sounded, to send them to private devotion; and in about an hour
afterwards I saw the whole camp as joyously and eagerly employed in
preparing and devouring their most substantial breakfasts as if the
night had been passed in dancing; and I marked many a fair but pale
face, that I recognised as a demoniac of the night, simpering beside a
swain, to whom she carefully administered hot coffee and eggs. The
preaching saint and the howling sinner seemed alike to relish this mode
of recruiting their strength.
After enjoying abundance of strong tea, which proved a delightful
restorative after a night so strangely spent, I wandered alone into the
forest, and I never remember to have found perfect quiet more
delightful.
We soon after left the ground; but before our departure we learnt that
a very _satisfactory_ collection had been made by the preachers, for
Bibles, Tracts, and _all other religious purposes_.