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The Autobiography of Brantley York:
Electronic Edition.

York, Brantley, 1805-1891

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First edition, 2001
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Academic Affairs Library, UNC-CH
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,
2001.

        © This work is the property of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. It may be used freely by individuals for research, teaching and personal use as long as this statement of availability is included in the text.

Source Description:
(title page) The John Lawson Monographs of the Trinity College Historical Society Durham, North Carolina Vol. 1. The Autobiography of Brantley York
(cover) The Autobiography of Brantley York
Brantley York
xv, 139 p., port.
DURHAM, N. C.
THE SEEMAN PRINTERY
1910

Call number CRB Y62y (North Carolina Collection, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill)

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Illustration

The John Lawson Monographs
OF THE
Trinity College Historical Society
DURHAM, NORTH CAROLINA
VOL. 1
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF BRANTLEY YORK

DURHAM, N. C.
THE SEEMAN PRINTERY
1910

Page iii

CONTENTS

Page vii

PREFACE

        In 1896 the Trinity College Historical Society established an Annual Publication of Historical Papers. Eight numbers have been issued, consisting of discussions before the Society and letters and documents which have come into its possession. The growth of the work and collections of the organization has suggested a new venture--the publication of memoirs, autobiographies and monographs in book form. These will not supplant the Historical Papers, but will be continuous with the publication already begun. Consequently the present volume is presented to the public. It will be followed in 1911 by the Memoirs of Governor W. W. Holden, later by Dr. E. W. Caruthers' Evils of American Slavery' and monographic studies.

        The editorial difficulties involved in preparing Dr. York's autobiography for the press have been peculiar. He began his work in 1876, long after he became blind, and continued it at various intervals until 1888. The amanuenses to whom he dictated were not equally qualified for their task. Some were well educated; others barely knew the rudiments of orthography. Consequently, as the manuscript was never revised, there is no uniformity in the use of capitals and punctuation marks. In preparing the copy for the printer, some changes were found to be not only feasible, but almost necessary. But the aim has been to make the printed page correspond with the written. Errors in orthography should not reflect on the learning of Dr. York; rather they should give an impression of the limitations which beset him, and illustrate his greatest opportunity for service, viz.; teaching his fellow men the elements of English grammar.

        Professor E. C. Brooks, of the Department of Education, has contributed the biographical sketch of Dr. York. Dr. W. T. Laprade, Assistant Professor of History, has aided in reading the proof.

WM. K. BOYD.

Trinity College, Durham, N. C., May 1, 1910.

Page ix

INTRODUCTORY SKETCH

        What our civilization would be today but for the old time preacher, it is hard to say. His tremendous faith and religious zeal may have filled his imagination with many realities that have no significance for the cold, practical, calculating eye of today; and judged by the standards of today he loses. But in pioneer days of nearly a century ago, when settlements were isolated and remote from culture and commercial activities; when the inbreeding of fatuous ideas was turning civilization back toward primitive man; when postoffices, newspapers, literature, Sunday-schools and secular schools were unknown to vast wild areas; when Christianity was graded little higher than the animism of the Red-man, the old time preacher was the one, and about the only, apostle of enlightenment that the back districts heard, and his everlasting influence is felt. Wherever he went he preached a burning gospel, and the household gods of these hardy woodmen beamed with a simple truth. Wherever he hitched his horse and threw down his saddle-bags, he found a welcomed resting place, and the neighbors would follow a trail for miles leading to his abode, and sit the long night by the great open fire listening to the stories of the world beyond. Politics and commerce, men and measures, were his theme; and before the night grew still he would draw forth his New Testament and explain to the simple woodmen the still more simple plan of salvation. Such were his methods, and his coming and going, events of state importance, wove into their primitive lives some of the culture and the hope of the race until they became a part of the warp and woof of humanity.

        What our civilization would be today but for the coming of the old time preacher, it is hard to say, but a picture of neglected and forgotten humanity can be imagined.

        One of these apostles of enlightenment was the Reverend Brantley York, the blind teacher and preacher, whose autobiography tells of the labors of a century almost, and pictures the backwoodsman in his daily routine. The social, moral,

Page x

religious and industrial life is given as the author tells the story of his own life from infancy to past his fourscore years.

        The York family, natives of Yorkshire, England, came to America during the first half of the Eighteenth Century, and located in what is now Randolph County, where Brantley York was born. His grandfather and grandmother in their youth came over together in the same vessel, and shortly afterwards married. Eli York, the father of Brantley York, was only a lad in his teens when Cornwallis made his headquarters at Salem. He was a frequent visitor to the American camp, carrying clothes and rations to his brothers. He had started on such an errand when he heard the guns at the battle of Guilford Court House. Meeting the wounded and the stragglers fleeing from the battle, and being frightened by the reports brought from the army, the lad turned back, carrying his supplies with him.

        Eli York became a miner, and he was something of a rude chemist in those days. In the Second War of Independence, 1812-15, he was employed by the U. S. Government to manufacture gunpowder. Brantley, then a small lad, went with the laborers who traversed Randolph and Guilford counties raking dirt from under tobacco barns, from which saltpetre was obtained; and many a day, with a home-made knife, he cut the gourds in which the powder was stored, then transferred by the wagon-load to the army magazine.

        The York home was located on Bush Creek, in Randolph County. Here Brantley York, the seventh son, was born January 3, 1805. From his father he inherited his mining propensities, and in early life was connected with several mining ventures, none of which turned out profitably.

        In those days educational facilities were very poor. Many communities knew not the school, and many a child never saw a schoolmaster. Young Brantley, however, more fortunate, entered school at four years of age, to be frightened out of his wits by an old master who kept thrashing the floor to terrify the young. Master Short passed into his life a few years later, and his only contract bound him to abstain from drinking during school hours, yet he was not forbidden to sleep away in the schoolroom the fumes of a midnight debauch;

Page xi

for Master Short was a confirmed drunkard. At eight years of age young Brantley did pass under the touch of a real schoolmaster, and he was taught "to spell in five syllables," and at the end of one term he "acted a part of a dialogue." When he was able to read the New Testament he was put in*

        * to see p. 7.


writing, "for in those days no one thought of putting one in writing till he could read the New Testament."

        At thirteen his school days ended. His father having lost all his property Brantley was "hired out." The family moved about from place to place, and finally the lad found a home near the old location of Trinity College in Randolph County. He received here not only employment, but kindness and encouragement.

        In those days every man who owned his land had his whiskey still. Even at the early age of five young Brantley knew the ways of the still. He played with the beverage as it dropped from the worm, and more than once did he feel its influence in his boyhood days. Both preacher and layman took their morning drams, and the alphabet hardly contained letters arranged sufficiently to spell Temperance Society.

        Many of those back settlements were in almost total ignorance of the God of the New Testament. Demon worship, with its chief attribute, witchcraft, held the spiritual life in mortal terror. Goblins and hobgoblins, ghosts and spooks, visible only to the hypersensitive, and audible everywhere to the terrified, brought back to earth a hybrid animism, showing faint traces of a more cheerful Christianity. Their agents in the flesh were the fortune-teller and the conjure-doctor. Young Brantley, being an emotional and excitable lad was dragged before these important high-priests of superstition; and he heard the predictions from Old Bass, famous in the occult sciences: "He will end his ignominious career on the gallows;" and he was frequently reminded in his younger days that "Old Bass' predictions are coming true."

        When Young Brantley was not yet a man, Randolph County was a part of the Deep River Circuit of the South Carolina Conference. This will give one some idea of the labors of the old time circuit rider and the frequency of his visits. The first Methodist minister to visit the neighborhood

Page xii

of the Yorks was Christenberg.*

        * Christenberry, see p. 7.


Although the Yorks were Primitive Baptists, the coming of Christenberg and the era of revivals and camp-meetings produced many changes. Ebenezer Church, near Old Trinity, was established. Soon Young Brantley was converted. Here a library society was organized. Into this went Young Brantley's spare earnings; and through it he laid the foundation of his education and ministerial career.

        Although a hired boy, working here and there, the little library at Ebenezer Church gave him an opportunity. After the day's work, he read and studied by the light of pine knots. He soon mastered arithmetic and became a neighborhood celebrity. He wrote a beautiful hand, an accomplishment which excited the admiration of youth and old age in the community.

        At the age of nineteen, he was converted at a camp-meeting at Ebenezer Church, and in 1831, at the age of twenty-six, he was licensed to preach. He was twenty-four years old and married, when he saw his first English grammar; and he immediately set to work to master it. So he did with Latin, Greek, the higher mathematics, natural philosophy, logic and rhetoric. The year he was licensed to preach he began teaching. Within a few years his fame as a teacher had risen and he was known as one who could teach geometry, trigonometry, surveying, Coesar, Virgil, and could read the New Testament in Greek.

        It seems that blindness was hereditary in the family. His only recollection of his grandfather was a picture of the old gentleman in total blindness, and "I remember standing between his knees while he passed his hands over my face and head." Although he had barely reached middle life when he likewise lost his sight, yet the best part of his life was worked out in almost total darkness.

        This blind preacher-teacher was a unique figure. His very active career stretched almost across the Nineteenth Century, and there is hardly a county in the State that did not at some time furnish him a congregation or a school. He was always active. Sometimes alone, sometimes with his wife, sometimes

Page xiii

with daughter or son, he traveled the State and preached with earnestness and power the duty of parents both in religion and in education.

        For more than fifty years he taught and preached. The story of those camp-meeting days has gone into history. Tremendous waves of religious fervor, midnight sermons, wrestling all night with the forces of evil, going days without food--these are deeds that belong to the pioneer days of church history; and it is this history that Brantley York has recorded in his Autobiography.

        In education he was a real circuit rider. It is probable that Brantley York organized more schools than any other man in America. In the villages and in the backwoods, in log cabins and in churches, in parlors and in hotels, in farms and under clear skies, he organized his grammar classes. From Morehead City to Asheville, from Columbia, S. C., to Danville, Va., in Tennessee and Arkansas, he taught youth and old age the principles of the mother tongue. He wrote his own books and published them at his own expense; and wherever a congregation could be formed he was either preaching the gospel or teaching York's grammar. And these things he was doing in his eighty-sixth year, when the order came to rest.

        When a young man he resolved to end the drink habit, which had almost claimed him as a victim, and long before the Civil War he was organizing temperance societies and lecturing on the evils of strong drink; and in 1881 in his 76th year, when the State first moved toward prohibition, he lectured in almost every county.

        Brantley York worked in his own way. He never joined the conference, but always styled himself a local preacher. He organized many academies, but he never worked in any organization long. Union Institute, which he organized, became Trinity College, but it was his successor that saw the college grow out of the high school. Here he lost the sight of one eye.

        Clemmonsville High School, in Davidson County, had great prosperity under his management. He formed Olin High School and here he lost his other eye; later he became

Page xiv

principal of York Collegiate Institute; in 1869 he was elected principal of Ruffin-Badger Institute, where he labored with much success until he was called to Rutherford College as professor of logic and rhetoric. In 1881 he, with his son, Rev. B. A. York, formed New Salem and Randleman High School, in Randolph County, and after teaching there with his son for four years, he left the teaching profession, never to return to it again. His career as author of text-books is told in Chapter XI of the Autobiography. After his death, an edition of the High School Grammar was published, in 1894, by Dr. L. Branson, of North Carolina, and by Prof. F. P. Julian of Peoria, Ill., who now owns the copyright to his books.

        For more than seventy years he was a teacher and preacher. He had under his tuition more than 15,000 pupils; and he himself estimated that he had preached and lectured more than 8,000 times. At no time was he idle. Even the last six weeks of his life he preached more than a dozen times, aiding his son Rev. B. A. York in a revival on the Forest City Circuit; and on October 7, 1891, at the age of eighty-six years, the order came for him to rest.

        Rutherford College, the institution at which he labored, conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. His appreciative students, numbering many thousands, erected a beautiful monument over his grave at York Institute, where he was buried.

        No greater evidence can we have of a man's great sincerity than this, that the children choose the father's profession and labor with the same zeal and earnestness. I have before me a newspaper clipping of much length, telling of a service where the father and two sons occupied the pulpit the same day, one in the morning, the other in the afternoon, and the father at night. We have no finer picture of devotion to duty than the blind father led about by his son, both preaching the gospel, or teaching the youth of the land.

        Dr. Brantley York was a man of very fine appearance. He was six feet two inches tall, of blue eyes and fair skin, very erect, and weighed about 200 pounds. He was a man of indomitable will, but considerate and kind. He was twice married.

Page xv

His first wife was Rachel Sherwood, of Guilford County, by whom he had two children. Both of these are dead. Mary W. Lineberry, of Randolph County was his second wife. She is still living and is in her ninety-first year. By her he had eleven children. Of these six are dead and seven are living.

        The seven surviving children are thus located: Mrs. Jennie Rheim, of Butte, Montana. Her husband, Capt. J. E. Rheim was a professor in Weaverville College ten years. Here he died. Rev. D. V. York, D. D., is a member of the Holston Conference; Rev. B. A. York, A. M., is a member of the Western North Carolina Conference. W. B. York is a lawyer, teacher and farmer, and lives at Mebane, N. C.; N. D. York is a practicing physician at Mebane; W. C. York is a farmer, and lives at Taylorsville, N. C.; Mrs. Nora Clontz, wife of W. J. Clontz, M. D., lives at Alexander, Buncombe County, N. C.

        The following sons and daughters are dead: Maj. Richard W. York, a practicing attorney of Chatham County; Fannie S. York; Rachel L. York, wife of T. F. Elliotte; Lucretia York and Amos W. York.

        Hundreds of people are living today who remember most affectionately the blind preacher-teacher who tells here the story of his own life. Many hundreds more are living who have been influenced by the children of the blind preacher-teacher, and can testify feelingly that their works do follow them.

E. C. BROOKS.

Trinity College, Durham, N. C.

Illustration

        BRANTLEY YORK

Page 1

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF BRANTLEY YORK

CHAPTER I.

        BIRTH--EXTRAORDINARY SNOW--PARENTAGE--FAMILY.

        I was born in Randolph County, N. C. January 3, 1805, on a small stream called Bush Creek, some six miles north of Franklinsville. At that time one of the deepest snows ever known in that section of the state had fallen some two weeks previous to my birth, its average depth being about thirty-six inches.

        I was the son of Eli and Susanna York the seventh of nine children; of these five were males, viz, Harden, Hiram, William, Brantley and John Wesley and four females, Polly (Mary), Hannah, Sallie and Jemima. Two of the brothers Harden and Hiram are dead. Harden, the oldest brother, died in the State of Indiana some thirty-four or thirty-five years ago. Hiram died in the eastern portion of this state since the war. The circumstances of his death [are] not known.

        One Sister, Sallie (Mrs. Aydlott) died in Guilford County some twelve years since. Her husband, Benjamin Aydlott survived her but a short time. Polly (Mrs. Coltrane) the oldest child, is still living, being about eighty-three years of age. My sister Hannah (Mrs. Bond) removed to the State of Missouri nearly forty years ago; whether living or dead is to me unknown, but I have learned that her husband, Mr. John Bond is dead. My youngest Sister, the youngest of the family, Mrs. Jemima Mendenhall since the War removed to the State of Indiana. When heard from last she was living.

        I was named for a Baptist preacher,--the Rev. William Brantley, of Chatham County, subsequently Doctor (D. D.) of Charleston, S. C.

        My parents, either before or soon after I was born, heard the Rev. W. Brantley preach at a church called Millstone in

Page 2

Randolph County, and were so well pleased with him as a man and as a preacher that they gave me his family name (Brantley) and I should have received the other but from the fact that I had an older brother named William.

CHAPTER II.

        ANCESTRY.

        According to tradition, many years ago a man by the name of York came from Yorkshire, England, and settled in this State on Sandy Creek and from this man the numerous family of the Yorks originated, and are now scattered throughout many of the states of the Union. My Grandfather, Henry York, lived and died on Sandy Creek (Randolph County). He was blind,--totally blind for several years before his death. I have only a faint recollection of him, and about the only thing recollected is that when very small I remember standing between his knees while he passed his hands over my face and head, it being the only means by which he could form any idea of me, as he was then blind. My father had several brothers, the most of whom were older than himself. I believe he was the youngest of the first set of children; for his father was married twice; and I recollect having seen one only of the last children. But I have a clear recollection of having seen three of my paternal uncles viz, Samuel, William and Edmund. My father had some Sisters, but I have no recollection of any but one, viz., Mrs. Mollie Ruth. Many of her offspring are still living on Sandy Creek, Randolph County. But the whole family brothers and Sisters of my father, have long since passed away. My father died at the advanced age of eighty-four. And he, as well as my mother reposes in the graveyard of Ebenezer Church, Randolph County.

        My father, perhaps before I was born, united himself with the (Primitive) Baptist denomination. He held his membership at Sandy Creek Church--one of the oldest Baptist churches in the State. But after he removed from that section

Page 3

of the State, he never attached himself to any other church, and was for several years in a back-slidden state; but some twenty or twenty-five years previous to his death, he joined the Temperance Society, and not long after was reclaimed, and from that time to the end of his earthly career, he lived a pious and devoted christian, and died in the triumphs of the Gospel faith.

        My mother's family name was Harden. She was born in the State of Virginia, county not recollected, and when about fourteen years of age, her father removed from Virginia to North Carolina and settled on Sandy Creek, Randolph County.

        My maternal Grandfather Mark Harden died before my recollection; but his widow Hannah Harden my maternal grandmother survived him several years; of her I have a distinct recollection, though she died when I was a small boy. Of the religious predilections of my maternal Grandparents I know nothing. My Grandmother's family name was Holder, if I am not mistaken. They left behind them several children, all of whom were daughters except one. Of these my mother was the oldest, and my maternal Uncle Mark Harden, junior, was the youngest.

        I have a distinct recollection of three of my maternal Aunts; viz, Mrs. Polly Warren, Anna Holder, and Lettie Roache. All of these have passed away except Mrs. Holder. She, when last heard from, was living, and I suppose cannot be much less than one hundred years old.

        My mother died in 1846, and was buried as has already been mentioned in the graveyard at Ebenezer church. She never attached herslf to any church, but was inclined most strongly toward the M. E. church. I have, however, good reasons for believing that for many years before her death she was a christian. Her walk was exemplary, and no one, perhaps, appreciated preaching more than she. She died as was supposed from the effects of paralysis, consequently, she said very little during her illness, but manifested a strong desire to see me before she died, but of this favor she was denied; for I was away from home when the news of her

Page 4

illness arrived, and when I reached my father's, she had been buried some two days.

        My Uncle, Mark Harden, was a member of the M. P. Church for several years before his decease. His first wife (for he was married twice) Sarah York was a cousin of mine, the daughter of William York. She also was a member of the same church of her husband and died some eight or ten years before her husband. His second wife, of whom I know but little, is still living.

CHAPTER III.

        BOYHOOD--EARLY EDUCATION--RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS--IGNORANCE AND SUPERSTITIONS OF THE BUSH CREEK NEIGHBORHOOD.

        Twelve years of my boyhood were spent at the old homestead on Bush Creek. Like other boys, I was fond of sport. During the warm season I spent much time fishing with the bow and arrow, and during the cold season, trapping for birds.

        For several years, I was much afflicted with erysipelas, then called St. Anthony's fire. The principal remedy resorted to was blood-letting. This, in my case, was so frequently resorted to that the very thought to my mind was horrifying; nor have I ever been entirely free from this feeling; for, while I have no great dred [sic] of suffering pain, yet the use of any surgical instrument is still the object of much dread.

        When about five or six years old, an incident occurred which came very near terminating my life. My mother sent an older brother and me to call my father to breakfast. When we reached the Still-house, he was just starting what is called a "doubling" and could not leave. In the meantime I got behind the worm-tub and by the use of a spoon I found between the hoop and stave, I commenced catching the liquor, as it issued from the worm and drinking it; for I loved the taste of it, nor have I any recollection of any time previous

Page 5

to this when I did not; for I suppose I was like other babies, drenched with it by means of a teaspoon. As soon as discovered by my father, both brother and I were sent home, the distance being some three or four hundred yards. Well did the wise man say, "Wine is a mocker," for it made me believe I was what I was not, and that I could do what I could not; for, notwithstanding I was very feeble, yet I believed I could pull up any tree in the forest by the root, and so foolish was I that I actually tried it. After much stumbling and falling, I finally reached within some twenty-five or thirty yards of home, and there I fell, and from that time till the morning of the next day, I was as unconscious of everything around me as if I had been dead.

        If mothers were aware of the danger of such a habit when formed, they would be extremely cautious in either giving their children ardent spirits as a beverage or a medicine; for, perhaps in every case of this kind, the remedy is worse than the disease.

        At this time (1876) it may be thought strange that any member of the church should follow the distillation of ardent spirits as a livelyhood (sic) but the view entertained by even good people at the time of which I speak, were very different; for no one supposed it was wrong either to make or drink ardent spirits moderately; drunkenness only was regarded as a sin even by ministers.

        Education during my boyhood was at an extremely low ebb, there being but very few schools, and they of a very low grade. The first school I attended I was only about four years old, and went only one day. I went not so much to learn as to be with a favorite sister who had been my nurse. The schoolmaster (as teachers were then called) was a very large, sour-looking man, and seemed to appreciate very highly the dignity of his position. And the instruments of punishment lay thick around him, in the form of switches and small paddles called ferrules, and among the switches was a very large and long one, kept for the purpose of thrashing the floor in order to frighten the urchins, and keep them in awe of his authority. But one was allowed to go out at a time, and in order to prevent the violation of this rule, a

Page 6

little hooked stick suspended to a peg or nail driven in the door-facing, must be taken by each one going out and when the stick was absent no one dared go out. Not infrequently confusion arose among the scholars by a race for the crooked stick; then, to restore order, the long hickory was brought down with great force on the floor, accompanied with a stamp of the foot, and a loud, husty burst of the voice. By this means order for a while was restored. Sometimes during the day my sister succeeded in getting the stick, and I started to follow her; then came the thrash, the stamp and the squall which so much frightened me that I knew not what to do--whether to go out or return to my seat--in fact I knew not what he wanted. That was the first and last day of my going to school to this pedagogue; nor was the effect for years erased from my mind, for every time I saw him (which was frequently) a similar emotion was felt, mixed however with hatred for his person.

        I was about six years old before I was sent to school again. The teacher was a very different character from the former; he was clever, kind and indulgent, and the scholars loved him as a father. When I went to say my lesson he would take me upon his knees, and speak very kindly to me, and when I succeeded in saying a good lesson he never failed to praise and encourage me. The school, however, was of short duration; but during the time I learned to spell in five syllables and was exceedingly sorry when the school closed, for I loved my book and was strongly attached to my teacher.

        About two years rolled away before another opportunity was offered for me to go to school. I was then entered as a scholar to a six months' school taught by a Mr. Patterson. He was also a man of easy manners, pleasant and agreeable as a teacher. But during the interim I had even forgotten my letters; consequently had to learn them a second time. But during the term, I not only learned to spell tolerably well, but also to read tolerably fluently for a boy eight years old, and at the close of the term, I acted a part of a dialogue. The teacher was popular, and at the close another six months school was made, and I was again subscribed as a scholar, and at the opening of the school I commenced writing; for in

Page 7

those days no one thought of putting one to writing till he could read the New Testament. Much attention was paid during this teacher's administration to spelling "by heart" as it was termed. I took much pleasure in this exercise, and sucessfully contended with the best spellers for the head of the class. I was accustomed to commit the spelling lesson to memory while going from and to school; consequently I seldom missed a word. After the second Session had been in operation about two weeks, the schoolhouse was unfortunately burnt down. And thus ended my schooldays during the time that my father lived at the old homestead on Bush Creek.

        I was at quite a tender age impressed with the necessity of religion; and a lasting impression was made on my mind that I was destined ultimately to be a preacher; consequently my thoughts were not infrequently turned to this subject when perhaps not more than seven or eight years old. The first praching which I recollect of hearing was in my father's house; for the Baptist Preachers in going to their appointments at Sandy Creek, would preach at night at my father's. The name of one only is recollected, George Pope. In the meantime a new Methodist church, a log building, called Cool Spring, was built by the neighbors, and was taken into what was then known as the Deep river circuit of the South Carolina Conference. This church was about three miles from my father's. The first Methodist preacher whom I recollect hearing was Christenberry, who was in charge of the circuit, and was then called the circuit-rider. His preaching made a strong impression on my mind, and during his administration a revival of religion broke out in that church, during which my oldest brother Harden and two of my sisters Hannah and Sallie joined the church and were baptised by immersion.

        Considering the character of the schools of Bush Creek, the inference would naturally follow that the people were ignorant. There were few or no educated persons in that community, and not only were they ignorant, but exceedingly superstitious. Superstition has frequently been termed the twin sister of ignorance, but I am strongly inclined to think that she is rather the daughter than the sister. There may

Page 8

be ignorant persons not superstitious, but the superstitious are almost invariably ignorant.

        The people of this neighborhood believed in Witchcraft, Ghost-seeing, haunted houses and fortune-telling. They attributed wonderful, if not supernatural powers, to the crea tures of their imaginations--witches. They believed that a witch could transform herself into any animal she chose, whether beast or bird. They also attributed to a witch the power to creep through a key-hole, by the magic of a certain bridle called the witch's bridle--she could change any person on whom she could place it, into a horse; and then what is still more remarkable, both could come out through a key-hole, and, being mounted, she could ride this remarkable horse wherever she chose, nor would such an animal assume its identity till the bridle was removed.

        From this superstitious belief in witches arose a class of imposters, called witch-doctors. They made the people believe by certain mysterious operations, that they could break the witchcraft and thus relieve these unfortunate ones from the influence of the much dreaded witch; and, in order to be sure of their pay for these machinations, they pretended they could do nothing without first being paid a certain amount of silver.

        The people also believed that a witch or wizard was proof against leaden balls shot from a rifle; but could not stand before a silver bullet. They believed moreover that these witches could put spells on guns, so that the object aimed at could never be hit while such spells remained unbroken; but for all these evils they had some remedy, for they believed that there were some persons among them who possessed the peculiar art of breaking these spells.

        When the neighbors came together, the most prominent topic of conversation was relating some remarkable witch tales, ghost stories and conjurations of various kinds; and so interesting was (sic) these stories that the conversation often continued till a very late hour at night. Often have I sat and listened to these stories till it seemed to me that each hair upon my head resembled the quill of a porcupine. I was

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afraid to go out of doors, afraid to go to bed alone, and almost afraid of my own shadow.

        There were persons who professed to be fortune-tellers, and, as people are generally anxious to know their future destiny, they were willing to pay these impostors for unfolding to them the future. They could tell a young man the color of the hair, eyes, skin and many other minutiae, of the girl who was to be his wife, and describe with much exactness the kind of man that each girl would have for a husband. When it was known where one of these Fortune-tellers would operate, the house would generally be crowded throughout the day--so anxious were the people to know what neither themselves nor the fortune-teller could know. I recollect on one occasion an old, yellow man by the name of Bass, professing to be a Portuguese, called at my father's. He claimed not only to be a great fortune-teller, but he could also unfold the mystery of finding stolen or lost property; besides, he professed the peculiar power of breaking all spells and witchcraft with which persons or animals might be afflicted. The news having spread through the community, the house was filled to its utmost capacity, and the whole day was spent in fortune-telling, breaking witchcraft, and removing spells. Late in the evening, when he had disposed of most of the cases, my parents brought me up to have my fortune told. I did all I could to prevent it, but yet I was compelled to submit, and the old man took up his parable, with considerable pomp and gravity, and said, "This is no ordinary boy; he will be a ringleader, but a leader to all kinds of wickedness, such as card-playing, horse-racing and every species of gambling and finally," said he, "he will end his ignominious career on the gallows." Poor consolation to my parents and friends to know my destiny. This was a source of vexation to me as long as I remained in my father's family; for whenever I did anything mischievous or wrong, I would hear the stereotyped expression, "There, old Bass' predictions are coming true."

        But after all I do not know but that I derived some benefit from these false predictions, for after several years had passed away, and I was nearly or quite grown, I was in company with several young men who were my peers, and a game

Page 10

of cards was proposed. I at first objected; but some one of the company argued that they only intended to play for fun or amusement, and that there was no intention of betting, consequently there could be no harm. The argument seemed reasonable and I gave up my objection. A handkerchief was spread upon the ground, and we all got around it; a pack of cards was produced, and some one of the company dealt out the cards; several cards were thrown to me with their faces downward--I picked them up and looked at them, though I did not know one card from another. But at that moment what old Bass had predicted like a flash rushed into my mind; I immediately threw the cards from my hand and peremptorily refused to play--nor could any argument induce me to play, and from that day to the present, I am not aware of having touched a card.

        In the latter part of the year 1817, my father's family left the old homestead on Bush Creek, and removed some eighteen miles to the west, and settled on a plantation on what was called the Salem road, some six miles east or rather northeast of what is now Trinity college. This was an exceedingly scarce year, and those who had large families and small means, found it no easy task to procure bread enough to support their families. So scarce were provisions that the common maple was tapped, from the Juice of which molasses of a very inferior quality was made; my father's family made several gallons of this kind of molasses. The following year 1818, I was sent to school some two and one half months, in the latter part of the summer and fall, to a teacher by the name of John Short, generally known as Master Short, for teachers, in those days were generally called masters. Master Short was a periodic drunkard, and though he generally bound himself in his articles to abstain from drink during his school, yet he seldom failed to violate his contract by taking sprees of drinking, which generally lasted some ten days or two weeks. His scholarship was very limited extending no farther than reading, writing and common arithmetic. In fact the higher branches, such as Grammar, Geography, Philosophy, etc., were seldom or never taught in common neighborhood schools; for I never saw an English Grammer in any

Page 11

school I attended. The truth is, I never saw an English Grammar to know it was one, till I was nearly twenty-six years old. In this school I learned to write, but of course very imperfectly. I very well recollect frequently writing the date 1818, being annexed to our copies. This was the last school I attended (then in my fourteenth year) during my boyhood days; but I continued to improve by applying myself to my studies at home, or where I worked.

        Soon after we reacheed our new home my father and my brother Hiram erected a distillery which was a very common establishment in those days. This distillery was kept up and closely run, for the most part, night and day for some two or three years, during which time my father unfortunately acquired the habit of drinking to excess. I wish to state here, by way of parenthesis, that the last twenty-five years of his life he was a sober man and a devoted Christian, having signed a temperance pledge which he never violated.

        In this connction an incident occurred which, perhaps, is worth recording. It fell to my lot to frequently aid the disdistiller especially at night, for as two stills were run, it required considerable attention and work to keep them going; consequently we were frequently aroused from an unfinished sleep, stupidity and dullness being the natural consequence, and to drive these stupid feelings away, a dram was resorted to--hence this frequent dram-drinking created a thirst for more, and, in this way I contracted a love of spirits.

        On one morning having business to attend to, which required early attention, I arose at daybreak, having taken the morning dram which was as common as breakfast, I set out to attend to the business. The path led through an old field, over which a few scattering scrubby pines stood. As a clump of trees stood on the bank of the race near the path, I turned aside to say my prayers, for I was in the habit of praying morning and evening. But I could not pray; for the very attempt appeared to be sin. I arose from my knees in much confusion, and as I walked along the path, my mind was engaged in reviewing the past, trying to ascertain what could be the cause,--when an impression was made so deeply on my mind that I really thought someone spoke, and said that dram

Page 12

is the cause; and so fully was I under the belief that someone had spoken, that I walked around all the pines standing near, but found no one. But there and then, I resolved to abandon dram-drinking, which resolution I have adhered to through all my life, though I found it no easy matter to keep my resolution, for I had acquired an insatiable thirst for strong drinks, and as almost everybody drank around me, men, women and children, and even ministers of the gospel drank,--I found it no easy matter to resist the frequent importunities to drink. But the time, however, was not very long till the thirst subsided, and I ceased to care for it. There is danger in acquiring the habit of drinking, for it often leads to drunkenness and ruin; hence total abstinence is the only safe ground that can be occupied.

CHAPTER IV.

        MY FATHER INVOLVED IN DEBT--PROPERTY SOLD--FAMILY SCATTERED.

        The viper which my father had carried in his bosom for many years at length rewarded him by piercing him with its poisonous fangs. He fell under the power of strong drink which he had been long producing; he drank to excess and was frequently intoxicated, and, while in this condition, he made bad trades. He was naturally liberal-minded, but under the influence of liquor he gave with an unsparing hand--especially whiskey or brandy which was to him the same as money--and, in this way he became so deeply involved in debt that he could not pay; consequently his property was executed and sold for less than half its value. According to the laws in those days, but a very small quantity of property was exempt from execution. The family, therefore, was left in a very destitute condition.

        The family at this time consisted of Father and Mother and children viz: three brothers and two Sisters. The older sister was nearly grown, but the other being the youngest of the family, was quite small. The three brothers were next

Page 13

to each other in the following order: William, Brantley and John Wesley. William went to live with John Bond, our brother-in-law for the purpose of learning a trade; Wesley and I were hired out. We sometimes worked at the same place, but more frequently we were separated. My Father also worked about in the nabourhood by the day, for he was not now in the habbit of hunting up alcoholic liquors, but only drank too much when he came in contact with them. The two girls remained at home with mother, who was at that time in bad health.

        I worked for nearly all the farmers in the neighbourhood, but more for a man by the name of John Johnson than any other, perhaps. Mr. Johnson was [a] young married man, having a wife and two small children. He was industrious and frugal, but ignorant and superstitious. He would not commence any piece of work whatever on Friday, as he regarded it as an unlucky day. He was by [no] means religious, but used profane language but seldom. Both he and his wife were very kind to me, and I loved to work for him. While I was working with Mr. Johnson an incident occurred which is perhaps worth recording. I shall merely state it as a fact, without note or comment, and leave the reader to draw his own conclusion. On a certain day we were pulling fodder. Mr. Johnson was a few paces in advance of me, when he suddenly stopped, and turning round, looked me steadily in the face, and said without even a smile, "Brantley, you will make a preacher, and when you become a preacher, I want you to tell me what to do." That man lived to hear me preach two or three sermons, and in a short time after he was taken sick, and died.

        On one occasion my brother Wesley and I were sent to work for a man who lived some eight or nine miles from our home. It was in the month of November and when we left home the weather was pleasant. We had shoes, but no socks or coats. Soon after we reached the place of our destination, the weather turned quite cold and very heavy frosts fell at night. We with the negroes were sent out before sunrise to pull corn. The corn was on the low-grounds of a creek, where the cuckleburrs and spanish needles were as high or higher

Page 14

than our heads. We suffered extremely from the cold. This was our lot every morning. Our fare also was bad, especially supper. The man for whom we worked possessed no small amount of property. He was a little past middle age, but his wife (as she was the second) was very young. She was the mother of one child only--that was an infant; but there were five or six other children whose mother was dead. None of them were grown. Though our fare was bad, we fared just as his own children. I never saw him at the table when we ate. His wife however generally waited on the table. We were told by some of the work hands that he and his wife ate at a different table and had very different fare. This however I did not see. He was a local preacher in the M. E. Church, though his walk was by no means exemplary; for we never heard him pray, nor did either he or his wife ever spend any time with the family after supper. We worked with him some four or five days, and on either Thursday or Friday in the afternoon we were sent into the orchard to gather apples. One string of the fence enclosing the orchard was hard by the road leading homeward. We watched our opportunity, and when we thought no one saw us, we climbed over the fence and took the road for home; nor did we travel slowly, for we ran a large fraction of the way and reached home about dark.

        This was the only time that I ever ran away from the place where I worked, and had a good reason for doing it this time, for our work was very hard and our fare very bad. Early next morning this man came to take us back, but we peremptorily refused to go; nor did father try to make us. How little did that man think that the poor boy whom he treated so badly would be the educator of his children, for four of them were afterwards in the school where I was Principal.

CHAPTER V.

        REMOVAL OF THE FAMILY.

        In the latter part of the year 1820 (as I now recollect) the family removed westward some five miles, and occupied a

Page 15

house belonging to William Leach Esq., located in the immediate neighborhood in which Trinity College now stands. While here I worked for nearly all the farmers in the neighborhood of Trinity College, but more for Mr. Leach than any other man. Early in the spring of 1821, while with several others in piling logs in a new-ground, as six of us were carrying a log with hand spikes, I and a boy about my size were at the butt end, I having hold of the sharpened end of the handspike. The two that were carrying at the smaller end let their end of the log fall, jerking the handspike out of my hands, as I was making a step with my right foot; the end of the handspike struck me on the instep with great force, making a deep cut. For several minutes my leg was paralyzed to the knee, having no sensation in it at all, and had I judged from the sense of feeling only, my conclusion would have been, that my leg was off at the knee. I was not able to walk for some two months. As soon as I was able to work, I went to work for a gentleman by the name of Josiah Blair, who sent me to plough in a field nearly a quarter of a mile from the house, directing me when I heard the trumpet to come to breakfast and bring the horse with me. Accordingly I turned out and started to the house. As I was crossing a branch of the Uwharrie the horse stopped to drink and while he was drinking, I got down on a large rock that was not covered by water, with a view of washing my hands and face, and while I was washing the horse stepped upon my naked foot, and it on the rock. It was the same foot that was hurt by the handspike. It was literally crushed. How I reached the bank I never knew, and I was for some time nearly or quite unconscious. I was aroused from this swooning state by someone shaking me. I was taken home, nor was I able to work any more for about four months. Soon after I began to walk on my foot it commenced hurting me, the first sensation being that of a fine brier or nettle deeply seated in the ball of my foot. Frequent efforts were made to extract it but none could be found. I left home on Monday morning as I now recollect to work during the week for a man living some five or six miles distant. I continued working till Friday evening though in much pain. I then left for home

Page 16

intending to remain there till my foot became well, but on Saturday morning Mr. Leach sent for me to come and help his hands pull fodder. I put an old shoe on my foot and went, and when I returned at night my foot was worse, but next morning being Sunday, it was said "a big meeting" was going on some six miles distant, and as several young people of both sexes were going afoot, I also determined to go, and pressed my foot, though considerably swollen into my shoe and walk(ed) to the church. At the close of the exercise, it was announced that during the evening a meeting would be held at a private house. Though it was a mile and a half or two miles out of the way, my company resolved to go, though none of us had had any dinner. During the exercises the pain in my foot was excrutiating, and at the close of the meeting, I found myself unable to walk a step. The question now was "how am I to get home." But as there were two boys in the company both taller than myself, I placed a hand on a shoulder of each, and hopped home a distance of four miles. It is impossible for me to give anyone an adequate idea of the intensity of my suffering for the next two or three weeks; so during the year '21 I suffered much and worked but little.

        While working for Mr. Leach I found a warm sympathizer and fast friend in the person of Mrs. Leach. She was a lady, though not thoroughly educated, of a strong mind and fluent in conversation. One day at the dinner table she said to me in her familiar way, "Brantley, your hair is too long for this hot weather, wouldn't you like to have it trimmed?" I answered in the affirmative. "Well," said she, "when dinner is over come into my room, and I will trim it for you." After trimming my hair she placed the palm of her hand against my forehead, with her fingers extending up into my hair, pressed my head up erect, and stepping back she looked me straight in the face and remarked, "Brantley, you will not always be in the field working with negroes." These words fell upon my ear as words of prophecy, for though I had an insatiable thirst for an education, I had not as yet seen how it was to be obtained, for I had neither time nor books to study; but that lady lived to see her prediction fulfilled, for

Page 17

she often heard me preach and lecture, and saw me the principal of a high school.

        While we lived on Mr. Leach's place I frequently worked for a class of people call(ed) Quakers, or Friends. These were generally well-to-do farmers, and as they were religiously opposed to slavery, they hired frequently, and generally speaking they were a clever, sober, industrious people, and always treated me kindly.

        I frequently worked for an elderly man by the name of Enos Blair, and on one occasion, while I was working for him, the Quarterly Meeting to be held at Marlboro Church was near. I heard them speak of a watermelon patch in the garden, but the old gentleman refused to let any be pulled, as he was keeping them for the accommodation of his friends whom he expected to visit him during the meeting. One day while in company with two of my comrades, both of whom were older and larger than myself--in fact they were nearly or quite grown--I happened to speak of this watermelon patch, with no specified intention as I recollect. They immediately proposed to go and steal them, and thus disappoint "the old Quakers," as they called them. I objected, as the very thought of stealing was revolting to my mind; but they argued the case, and said we had just as much right to the melons as the "old Quakers" as they neither belonged to us nor to them. Fallacious as this argument was, it had the desired effect upon my mind. I yielded and consented to go with them. The night before the meeting commenced was fixed upon as the proper time to commit the deed. Accordingly we met. One of them having a sack. We proceeded to the scene of action and when we reached the place, the plan of operation was agreed upon. It fell to my lot to stand between the house and garden, to watch as a sentinel. One of the others was to go into the garden and pull the melons, and hand them over the garden palings to the other, who put them into the sack as he received them. Every melon was pulled that could be found, but it was no pleasant thing for me, for before the thing was accomplished, I deeply regreted that I had engaged in it, but the deed was done, and no one knew it. A

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pole was procured and the sack of melons placed on it. We then moved stealthily away. On reaching a persimmon tree which stood in the old field we stopped, and ate as many of the melons as we could. By this time a very angry looking cloud had arisen in the West and proclaimed its approach by deep-toned thunder. We gathered up our stolen property and set out for home. The weather was very warm, and seed ticks abundant, and as we tredged along we gathered our full share. The cloud rapidly advanced--the lightning was almost constantly flashing and the thunder becoming louder and louder. We were compelled to take shelter in a barn which was well filled with bearded wheat. We crawled up on the wheat near the roof. It was a fearful storm. The thunder was terrific. The lightning was almost constantly glaring and the rain fell in torrents. Never can I forget that night. It was the most wretched of my life. The ticks, the heat, and the bearded wheat were all instruments of torture, but far worse than all the rest combined, were the goadings of the guilty conscience. I was horribly damned, for I felt as if I could not live till morning. At length daylight appeared, and we hastened to get away, but one proposed however that before leaving we should take another mess of watermelons. This however I refused, having no taste for stolen melons. I hastened home; but my guilty conscience went with me. A few days after I went back to work for the same old man. While at the breakfast table a small boy, a grandson of the old gentleman, said to me, "Brantley, some mean rascals came here and stole all of grandfather's melons." My feelings at that time I have no language to describe. If I looked as guilty as I felt, it is a wonder they did not know I was one. This was the first and the last time that I ever engaged in stealing melons or anything else. If Franklin paid too dear for his whistle, I paid too dear for the watermelons.

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CHAPTER VI.

        THE MORAL CONDITIONS OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD--A YOUNG LADY CONVERTED AT A DANCE FROLIC--A REVIVAL OF RELIGION.

        I have never known any community or neighborhood more completely demoralized than was this. Very few of the heads of the families made any pretensions to religion or morality and the light of those that did, appeared to be under a bushel; for I never heard a blessing asked at the table or a prayer offered in any family, either by night or morning. Preaching was seldom--prayer-meetings never nor was there any such thing as Sunday-school. Sabbaths were desecrated, for the young people would frequently assemble together on Sunday, to play at cards or engage in some game of diversion. Books were circulated among them which were of the most vulgar and demoralizing character, and eagerly read, espeecially by the young men and large boys. Though a preacher lived in the neighborhood, and also an exhorter, however religious they may have been personally, they, like Eli of old, utterly failed to restrain their children. Few and feeble were the checks to the downward course of the youth of both sexes. The Athenians in the days of St. Paul were not perhaps more fully devoted to the worship of idols, than were the young people of this neighborhood to the worship of the god of pleasure; for they held weekly two dance frolics on Wednesday and Saturday nights, and as all came who chose without regard to character or morality, it may be safely inferred that these frolics were very disorderly and demoralizing. But a change came, and the cause of that change was not a little remarkable. Some minister preached on Sunday previous to the wednesday night dance, and Miss Ester Morgan who was an expert in dancing was convicted. But she concealed her state of mind even from her father who was a member of the church and also an Exhorter. The Wednesday night dance came on, when several young men called at Mr. Morgan's to gallant the girls to the frolic. Miss Ester however manifested an unwillingness to go; but being importuned and pressed, she consented and went.

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        The party having assembled, and ready to commence, the young men began to select their partners, but Miss Ester refused to dance with any. This doubtless was surprising to all; but when they commenced their exercise and the music began, she dropped upon her knees and began praying aloud. This was to the party as a clap of thunder in a clear sky, and perhaps if an earthquake had shaken the house, the alarm would not have been greater, for a greater part of them left the house and fled as for life. The fiddler fled for home and some two or three with him, and one that was with him made the following statement to me: "We went over fences and through corn fields, taking the nearest way for home, and as I heard the blades of corn cracking behind me, I felt certain that the Devil was right after me, and on reaching the door of the house we didn't waited (sic) for any one to open, but broke down the door and jumped into bed and covered up head and ears without pulling shoes, hat, coat, or a rag (of) clothes off, and were almost afraid to breathe, lest the Devil should hear us in our concealment." Only a few had courage enough to stand their ground. These sent for the young lady's father and some other members of the church and so the dance frolic was turned into a prayer-meeting, and just before day the young lady was converted.

        So dance frolics ended and prayer-meetings began. A revival of religion spread all over that community, and nearly all the young people of both sexes professed religion and joined the church.

        Religion flourished and schools revived, for they generally go hand in hand. This neighborhood (the neighborhood of Trinity College) has for more than a half century been distinguished for religion, morality and learning.

CHAPTER VII.

        THE FAMILY REMOVES--ENGAGES IN FARMING--FIRST CAMP-MEETING--CONVICTION AND CONVERSION.

        In the spring of '22, we rented a plantation on Muddy Creek, then called the Lowe Place. Since then it was occupied

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by Mr. William Robins, now deceased. The place is about two and one-half miles East of Trinity College, and about one and one-half or two miles from the Leach Place which we left. The land was tolerably fertile, and paid the cultivater (sic) well. There was also a good orchard both of apple and peach trees. We were successful in farming, and raised plenty of all kinds of grain. Nothing of particular interest occurred during this year. In the early part of August, '23, a camp-meeting was held at Ebenezer Church--the first of the kind that I had ever seen. The wooden tents were made of poles and all slatted one way. The doors were very low, insomuch that it looked very much like crawling into a tent, also some families occupied cloth tents. The only covering about the arbor was over the altar. Lewis Skidmore was the Presiding Elder, and Joachim Lowe was the preacher in charge. Other preachers were in attendance whose names I do not recollect, though there were three Local preachers living in the neighborhood, viz.: James Needham, Alson Gray and Joseph Clark. These were active workers in the altar. Skidmore was a man something above the mediumsize--his voice clear, loud and impressive. The people seemed to think he was the greatest man in the world and every effort was made by both men and women to go out and hear the Elder, and indeed he was worth hearing. The meeting resulted in great success; many professed religion and were added to the church. Though I had been from early boyhood religiously impressed, my convictions had passed off and I had become rather careless and indifferent, and was really afraid of the preachers. My brother-in-law James Coltrane was tented there, and some of the preachers were there almost at every meal. If I knew they were there, I would not go though my sister urged me strongly. So she would watch her opportunity and bring me something to eat wherever she could find me. I went to the meeting on Saturday, and continued there till Tuesday afternoon. I then went home with the intention not to return. I [had] listened to the preaching generally and attentively; but it had but a slight effect upon my mind. Soon after I reached home Tuesday evening, three or four of my comrades came along going to the meeting.

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They called to me and asked if I were not going. I told them I was not; for I believed I had got about enough of the camp-meeting; but they insisted and I went with them. We were engaged in laughing and talking and cracking jokes on the way to the meeting; but when we got within about half a mile of the camp-ground, we heard the shouting and singing of the people--conviction immediately seized upon my mind. I had no more taste for merriment of any kind, and to avoid hearing my comrades laugh and talk I fell behind, and on reaching the campground I saw several of my friends male and female who were as I thought as wicked as myself when I left, now apparently as happy as Seraphs. This deepened my convictions and I became exceedingly anxious to feel what I believed they felt.

        Soon after reaching the campground the sun set--night drew on, the camp ground was illuminated, the trumpet sounded and the people eagerly gathered around the stand to hear what the Lord would speak. I had not as yet decided to go into the altar, but thought it more than probable that I would after hearing the sermon; consequently I occupied a seat not far from the altar door. The sermon was listened to with marked attention, and at its close there was quite a stir among the people--many were pressing into the altar; others were weeping, who did not go. My friend Mr. Ahi Robins, who sat near me, cried out aloud, "Help me to get into the altar, and keep the Devil from cheating me out of my soul." I was strongly urged by many to go into the altar, but I would not go, notwithstanding the load of sin was heavy. I left the congregation and sought some secret place for prayer and meditation. Not a few difficulties were presented to my mind by the Tempter, I suppose; such as: "the time was when you might have obtained religion, but it is now too late--you are a reprobate, and it is useless to try, and, if you are not, you are young and there is plenty of time yet to attend to this work." A thunder cloud was now perceived to be approaching, rumbling thunder augmented the solemnity of the scene, and when it was perceived that the cloud would come over, all the penitents that were outside the altar (for the altar could not contain all)

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were taken to the church. I also went into the church, and took a seat. Notwithstanding there was singing, shouting, praying, and talking, I paid but little attention to it, for I was trying to come to a decision, which at length I did. I decided to seek religion there, and then. I set no limit to the time I would seek, only the close of life. As soon as I had reached the conclusion, I knelt at my seat without being invited to do so by anyone. I commenced praying as earnestly as I knew how. At length I found myself lying on the floor with my head in someone's lap; but when or how I got into that position, I know not. For some time I was perplexed with the harassing thought that my wicked comrades were laughing at me. The burden was heavy and the struggle long. My friends were constantly bringing news to me that this one and that one had obtained religion, and among them was my friend Mr. Ahi Robins. Finally they told me that every penitent had obtained religion but myself--not, perhaps, less than fifty in number. The night was now far spent and day was approaching. At length, however, I reached a state of mind that I cared not who laughed nor who cried. I had now become willing to be anything--to do anything--or to suffer anything in order to be relieved of the burden which seemed intolerable to be borne. It was suggested to my mind in the form of a question, "What hinders since you have given all up." At that moment the burden left, and I felt perfectly easy; but knew not what had removed it. I could not say that I had religion, for that I did not know; but my faith had wonderfully increased; and I fully believed if I asked to know, the petition would be answered, and scarcely was the petition formed in my mind when I was filled unutterably full of glory and of God.

        How I arose from my position I know not nor ever did. The first thing of which I have any distinct recollection as attracting my attention was that a Local preacher by the name of Joseph Clark was holding me in his arms, and singing:


                         I little thought He'd been so nigh,
                         His speaking makes me laugh and cry.

        After the ecstasy had somewhat subsided, and I had become cool enough to think, I really thought I had lost all my

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weight, and, in order to convince myself of the fact, I went out of doors and walked upon the leaves in order to ascertain whether they would give way under my feet or not; but I found I was mistaken. As well as I recollect, day was now just beginning to break. It was the 12th day of August, 1823. At eight o'clock the trumpet sounded and the people for the last time during that meeting gathered around the stand. The door was open to receive members, and I without consulting father or mother, brother or sister or anyone else, went into the altar, and gave my hand to the preacher in charge, and from that day to this (1886) I have been a member of the M. E. or the M. E. Church, South.

CHAPTER VIII.

        SECRET PRAYER--CLASS MEETINGS--BAND MEETINGS.

        After the eight o'clock service at which time the camp-meeting broke, as stated in the previous chapter, I set out for home; but as my ecstasy of joy had subsided, the tempter as sailed me, urging that I had lost my religion, and that it was impossible for anyone to keep it any length of time; consequently the only possible way to ever reach heaven would be to get religion just before death. This temptation rendered me miserable, for I did not know that it proceeded from the tempter. On reaching home I scarcely knew what to say. I could say I knew I had religion at the camp-meeting, but I could not say that I had it then. I was anxious for night to come on that I might resort to secret prayer, and when the evening shades prevailed I sought the most secret place that I could for prayer. I went nearly a quarter of a mile from the house to a papaw thicket and there I wrestled, Jacob-like, until I obtained a blessing, and made the happy discovery that I had not lost my religion. I returned to the house rejoicing. I think I learned from experience that secret prayer is essential to the maintenance of a religious principle and feeling in the heart. Both preachers and class leaders insisted most strenuously on the observance of secret prayer as an indispensable duty, and this to be efficient, must be habitual.

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        Class meetings in those days were held as regularly as preaching, and indeed more frequently; for every leader held a meeting at least once or twice between the times of preaching, and the preacher in charge scarcely ever failed to hold a class meeting immediately after preaching.

        These class meetings were generally very useful and edifying; but some leaders held their class meetings in such a way that they were scarcely either edifying or profitable. The leader would generally select some member to assist him, and while the members kept up continual singing would go around and talk to each member on his seat; consequently the members generally could hear scarcely nothing of what the leader or members said; but other leaders adopted a different method. The leader would stand and call the name of each member, when the name was called the member would rise, and the leader would examine him as to his present enjoyments in religion, whether he was regular in the discharge of his secret prayer and whether he enjoyed religion in the home circle. He would then give such advice as the nature of the case demanded. This method was highly edifying and profitable. The leader would also occasionally sing a stanza or two of a hymn adapted to the state of mind of certain members, the other members also joining with him in singing. This tended to make the meeting intensely interesting as well as instructive.

        After the camp-meeting held at the same place, Ebenezer Church, in '24, the class became so large that it was found expedient to divide it into three sections, a leader being appointed to each section. One of these leaders held a meeting each Sunday, except on the regular preaching day. Any member of the class had a right to attend every meeting; but the leader examined none except the members of his own section.

        Rev. Alson Gray was my first class leader, who subsequently acquired some notoriety as a preacher in the M. P. Church. Franklin Harris was my next leader. He was a man of piety and good sense, and of agreeable manners. Ahi Robins was my next and last leader at Ebenezer; he was a man of strong feeling and deep piety, and was highly esteemed

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by the members of his class. The two former have gone to their reward, but Brother Robins is still living (18-86). It was a rare thing in those days for one to backslide; for the young converts were tenderly nursed and watched over by their leaders. The General Conference which removed the obligation of members to attend class meeting may have rendered the church more popular, but I think less vitally pious.

        In those days the Methodist discipline provided for the formation of Band Meetings. These bands were rather peculiar, for not only males and females met separately, but also married and unmarried persons met separately. In consequence of this peculiarity it was impracticable for women in the country to meet in Band Societies; hence the rule could only be carried out so far as women were concerned, in towns and cities. In the neighborhood in which I resided, both the married and unmarried men formed bands which met at different places. There were only five young men who belonged to the young mens' band. viz.: John Gray, William Gray, Ahi Robins, William Lenard and myself. We met weekly at night, in an old schoolhouse, and, according to the rules of the band, each one in turn acted as leader. Each meeting was opened by reading the scriptures, singing a hymn, and prayer by the leader, after which the leader made a statement of his religious experience during the past week involving such as temptation, trial, religious enjoyment, etc. Each member was then called upon to make a similar statement of his experience,--never going back beyond the week. The meeting was then closed by singing another hymn, and prayer by some one of the members.

        I found the exercises of these meetings to be very advantageous to me, though at first it was very embarrassing to act as leader; for I was naturally timid and retiring in my manners. The band continued to meet about twelve months and would doubtless have continued longer, but for the dispersion of several of the members. But this was long enough to endear the members to ach other.

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CHAPTER IX.

        1824-1837--CAMP MEETINGS--THE MINISTRY--TEACHING.

        At this time ('24, '25, '26) camp meetings were held in various places in different counties and were generally attended with the happiest results. It was nothing uncommon for one hundred converts to be the result of a single meeting. In the latter part of August, 1824, a camp meeting was held in the southern portion of Randolph County at a church called Salem. I and two other young men resolved to go--previous to that time we had never been to a camp meeting, except at Ebenezer. Having prepared biscuits for our journey (for we expected to board ourselves, and sleep in the altar, as the weather was warm) we set out early on Saturday morning for the camp meeting and reached the camp ground about the time the tent holders were at dinner. We were agreeably surprised on being invited to dinner, for we expected no such hospitality. Our next care was to have our horses provided for. This having been done, we felt quite satisfied, though all were strangers except two preachers. Christopher Thomas was the preacher in charge--he was a good preacher and a most devoted Christian. A few years after he was stationed in the town of Newberne, and after having the most extensive revival of religion ever known in that place, he died a most triumphant death.

        When night came on we were kindly provided for in the way of sleeping. Some thirty or thirty-five tents were occupied--much larger and of a better quality than those at Ebenezer. The people were unusually kind, the preaching was good and we enjoyed ourselves finely--so much so that I would have been glad if it had lasted a month. There was a considerable revival; there were many penitents in the altar and not a few converts. Here for the first time I began to work in the altar. The meeting closed on the Wednesday morning following and we parted with those kind friends with many tears. We then set out for home, feeling and believing that camp meetings were the next door to Paradise.

        On reaching home we heard that a camp meeting was to be held in Guilford County, at a church called Pleasant Garden,

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commencing on the following Friday night. We resolved to go, but did not get ready to start till after dinner on Saturday. We then set out, full of the spirit of camp meetings, expecting a rich feast of enjoyment; but night overtook us before we reached the camp ground and we thought it best to stop and wait till morning. We were kindly entertained by the family with whom we lodged; but we were so eager for the camp meeting we refused to remain for breakfast, believing that we should be amply supplied when we reached the camp ground. In this, however, we were a little mistaken. When we reached the camp ground the people were generally engaged at their breakfast. Our first care was to secure a place for our horses. This was soon done, for we obtained a good pasture for them near the camp ground, but we missed our breakfast. But this we regarded as a mere accident, having arrived at an unpropitious time. We cared, however, but little for this; for we would only be the better prepared for dinner, as we thought of course that we would be fully known by dinner, for we were sure that three strangers of some distinction would attract attention. It never once occurred to our minds that it was necessary for us to introduce ourselves or to apply to the P. C.,*

        * P. C., means Preacher of Circuit. [Ed.]


for a home; but to our astonishment and chagrin dinner came on and they had not found us out yet, nor had we any biscuits as at the other camp meeting to resort to, feeling well assured that we would be well supplied as we had been at the other meeting. But alas! supper came on, and we were still unknown. By this time we began to feel a little slim--we had stood about and walked about and yet no one had noticed us. We now began to think that something would have to be done, but what to do we knew not, for we had no money, and to beg we were ashamed. Night came on--the trumpet sounded and the people gathered about the stand to hear preaching. We were there (for we never missed a sermon) but soon after taking my seat, I was taken quite sick. After preaching was over I lay down upon a bench. There was a gentleman standing near me. I asked him if he knew where I could obtain a place to lie down as I was quite sick. He said he did not, but would try to find one. He left,
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but soon returned, informing me that he had secured a place for me to sleep. He conducted me to it (it was the sitting part of a tent), with a wagon sheet spread upon straw. This was rather poor accommodation for a sick man, but I was glad to get it. I lay down upon this sheet without undressing, and after some time I fell asleep, and, when I awoke, it was day and the family was stirring. I remained till breakfast but received no invitation to eat. We now got together and concluded that we had better try to get home while we had sufficient strength to do it, and, as I was unwell, my two friends proposed to go for the horses. While they were gone I took a walk, and as I walked I met a company of persons coming from the neighborhood of Trinity College, and among them was my friend Mrs. William Leach. She saluted me in her familiar way, "Well, Brantley, how are you getting along?"

        "Not very well," was my answer.

        "Why, what is the matter? Don't they feed you?"

        "I have eaten nothing since Saturday night."

        "Well, well, that is a hard case; come along with me, I have brought a lunch for myself, but you've got to eat it."

        I gladly accepted the offer. About the time I finished eating, my friends came with the horses. We mounted and left for home. This was Monday morning about eleven o'clock, having eaten nothing since Saturday night. We wondered how people in adjoining counties could be so different.

        Some fifteen years after this occurrence, I was invited to attend a camp meeting held at this same place; but things had very much changed. Then I was a youth without education and green enough--now I was a preacher and Principal of a high school. I preached each day of the meeting, nor did I lack for anything to eat; but I scarcely ever looked over the congregation without thinking of our starving time at that place.

        Perhaps the starving time through which I passed at this camp meeting, though a bitter pill to me, resulted in some good; for in after years, in attending camp meeting as a preacher, I made it my business to look out for green boys, as I was once, and have arrangements made for their accommodations,

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for I have never forgotten what I passed through at the first camp meeting I ever attended at Pleasant Garden. Wealth and position are scarcely ever overlooked; but those on the lower rounds of society are frequently neglected, and it is sometimes the case that the neglected ones make the most distinguished and useful men.

        Some ten years having rolled away after I attended camp meeting at Salem, I returned to that place as a preacher, and when I arose to preach to the people the first time, on looking over the congregation and recognizing the faces of many friends who had treated me so kindly when a mere youth, my emotions may be imagined but never described. Nor was my preaching, imperfect as it was, without an effect upon the congregation.

        Camp meetings recently have lost much of their power and usefulness, and as every effect must have a cause, there is a cause or causes for this decline, nor does it require a very close observer to perceive some of the causes at least, which have produced this deplorable effect. Members of the church do not seem to feel as deep interest as formerly, and are not so willing to make the necessary preparation; and as these meetings have lost their novelty, the attendance is generally quite thin till Sunday, and this being a kind of show day, but little good is generally accomplished, and as the tent holders are few in numbers, and consequently are pressed with the number they have to entertain, in consequence of this they generally break up as early as Tuesday or Wednesday morning succeeding the Sabbath. The only apparent remedy for these failures is to have fewer of them and to continue them some ten or twelve days.

        During the year '24 a library Society was formed at Ebenezer Church, at which place I held my membership. The society was regularly organized and officered. The payment of $2.00 and an annual tax of twenty-five cents was the condition of membership. The society met quarterly and at each meeting the books were all brought together and the names of the members written on a slip of paper, and put into a hat, and as they were drawn out each member took choice of the books that were on hand, but if one was disposed to pay four

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or six dollars, he drew a book for each share. I put in first only one share, but that did not satisfy me. I continued to put in till I had four shares, and though engaged in working on a farm, read about one thousand pages a week. The society flourished for some three years, during which time I read a large number of books. But my thirst for knowledge led me to read too much, more than I could assimilate. But notwithstanding this, the library was no small source of improvement to myself and others, and any similar institution cannot fail to be a blessing to any community.

        When about twenty years old I hired to a gentleman by the name of Robbins, as a distiller. His establishment was large, and required the constant attention of two distillers. At first I was only an assistant, but soon after I entered the establishment the principal distiller left, and I was employed as the principal distiller. But I saw so much wickedness caused by drinking that I was led to doubt the morality of the business, and after reflecting on it for some weeks, I became thoroughly convinced that it was wrong. Consequently, I determined to abandon it, notwithstanding I was making much higher wages than I could possibly make on the farm, and though my employer was exceedingly unwilling to give me up,--yet I abandoned the business forever.

        In the year '26, when I was about twenty-one years old, I and another young man by the name of Emsly Leach rented ground from Lewis Leach, Esq., and raised a crop of corn and cotton.

        Though I was impressed at a very tender age that I must preach, yet for several years after my conversion, I was not impressed that I was called to preach. But while engaged in cultivating this crop, the impression returned with great force, so much so that I could scarcely sleep at night. The impression pursued me wherever I went, nor could I find any permanent peace, till I solemnly promised the good Lord that as soon as I could make preparation I would undertake it. In the meantime I went to a gold mine to work, and not long after engaging in the gold mining, I was employed to do the business for a large portion of the mine, and for sometime I made money very fast. The temptation was then presented

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to me, to which I unfortunately yielded, to put off preaching till I acquired considerable means, and then I would have no difficulty in entering upon the work, but in the course of less than eighteen months, instead of getting rich I lost all I had made, and was compelled to struggle with debt, and I could see no opening for me to preach. But at length, I determined to make the effort and quit my mining and manual labor of every kind. In December, 1831, I commenced teaching school at Bethlehem Church, Guilford County, North Carolina. In a few weeks after, I was appointed class leader by the P. C. I had previously held my membership at Pleasant Garden for several years, and when application was made for license to exhort, it was made to the society at P. G., but that society refused to grant them, being influenced by a Local preacher and a class leader, who said they didn't believe that I could ever make a preacher,--but I thought I knew my duty and resolved to do it. My membership being removed to Bethlehem, no further opposition was offered.

        I here record, by way of parenthesis, my first marriage. On the 31st of January, 1828, I was united in holy matrimony, by Rev. John Coe, to Miss Fannie Sherwood, daughter of Daniel and Rachel Sherwood, of Guilford County, N. C. At the time of my marriage I was twenty-three years and twenty-seven days old, and my wife nearly nineteen. We lived pleasantly together for nearly six years; then death severed the union, and she now lies beside her infant son in the graveyard of Pleasant Garden Church.

        I now had license to exhort, but to begin was a heavy cross. I preached my first sermon in my brother Hardin's house in Randolph County, from Romans 6th chapter and 23rd verse. This sermon was preached before I had license at all. At the opening of the spring of '32 I commenced preaching at Bethlehem Church once in two weeks, and also on Sunday evening at the widow Field's. I also established a Sabbath school at Bethlehem, which was largely attended. In a few weeks a revival broke out which continued some two or three months, during which time there were many converts and considerable accessions were made to the church. I continued teaching at Bethlehem for nearly two years. In the

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fall of '33 I was licensed to preach. The P. E. who signed my license*

        * P. E., abbreviation for Presiding Elder. [Ed,]


was the sainted John W. Childs.

        Late in the fall of '32, before I was licensed to preach, I was invited to Cool Spring Church and York's school-house, in Randolph County. The appointment stood at the schoolhouse on Saturday night and at the church on Sunday. There was a good effect at the schoolhouse, as there were some four or five penitents. On Sunday there was a signal display of divine power. The whole church was an altar, there were several converts, but the number is now forgotten. This revival was extensive, as it extended to all the adjacent neighborhoods, and lasted for several months. I continued preaching through the winter on Saturday night and Sunday at Cool Spring, and very many were added to different churches. Revival also broke out at Wood's schoolhouse, where (I) preached on Sunday nights, where no society had been formed. In this work I was aided by Brother William Anderson, the P. C. From the fruits of this revival a society was formed, and a new church erected called Randolph Church.

        In the latter part of the summer of 1833, I left Bethlehem and taught a three month school near Pleasant Garden Church. In a few days after I was licensed to preach, I attended a camp meeting at a place called Troy's Camp-ground. At this camp meeting I preached several times. The meeting was quite successful, and not long after a church was erected, named Bethel, which I believe is still in a flourishing condition.

        In the last of October or first part of November, I left the neighborhood of Pleasant Garden and took charge of a school on Sandy Creek in Randolph County in a thickly settled neighborhood, generally called Ellison Town. I continued fifteen months, during which time I preached at various private houses in the neighborhood, insomuch that one man remarked that I had preached at every man's house, except his "ash-hopper." I also preached regularly at the school-house, in which I taught; nor was the preaching in vain, for

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we had a considerable revival at the school house. While teaching this school, I lost my affectionate wife, who died on the 14th day of January, 1834, leaving one living child. But my loss was doubtless her eternal gain for her death was most triumphant. She remarked to me a little before she died, "I have no desire to live but for you and little Rachel."

        While engaged in teaching this school in June, '34, I held my first two days meeting at Troy's Academy, though as has already been stated, I had the clearest possible evidence of my call to the ministry, yet I was frequently assailed by the tempter, urging that this was only a notion of mine--that there was no such thing as a real call to the ministry. I was very much concerned about this two days meeting, and as it was to be held on the very eve of harvest, I was harrassed with the thought that there would be but very few in attendance. Some night or two before the meeting was to commence, I had a very remarkable dream, which forever settled the question in my mind as to the genuineness of my call to the ministry. I was boarding at this time with a Mr. Thos. Ellison. The family was devotedly pious.

THE DREAM.

        I dreamed that a large flock of partridges was before me, and around my feet was a large number of white stones or pebbles about the size of a partridge egg, though perfectly round and transparent; and I gathered my hands full of these pebbles and threw them among the partridges, and as I now recollect, thirteen was the number killed. The success excited me and I awoke, and I spent several minutes in reflecting on the dream. It seemed a little remarkable to me, as I was no sportsman, but closely engaged in studying; but as soon as possible, I dismissed it as a dream merely, and fell asleep, and dreamed again that the partridges represented the people that would be at the two days meeting--that the white stones represented the words that would be preached, and that the number killed represented the number of people that would be saved at this meeting. Again I awoke and found myself not a little excited, and after reflecting for some time on this dream and interpretation, I again fell asleep and the dream

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and the interpretation were both repeated, which made a deep impression on my mind. The morning came, and as there were several boarders in the school [who] wished to go, and as conveyances were almost impossible, we set out early afoot, though the distance was ten miles,--but my mind was so deeply impressed that I could not enjoy the company. I had not, as yet, told the dream to anyone. There was a young man in the company who was studying for the ministry. I concluded to tell the dream to him, as it might somewhat relieve the burden that pressed so heavily on my mind. We fell a little behind the others and I related my dream to him. He appeared to be full of faith and said, "As certain as there is a God in heaven, the dream will come to pass." I requested him to keep it a secret until the meeting should have passed. On arriving at the place, I found a larger number of people in attendance than I had expected. I preached from the text: "O Lord revive thy work," and when penitents were invited, some five or six presented themselves at the altar, and after singing and praying for some time, the congregation was dismissed, and an appointment made for the night.

        When the hour had arrived we met according to appointment, and the congregation had very much increased in number, and after preaching, the penitents were again invited, when some ten or twelve presented themselves at the altar, but no one professed. The following day a love-feast meeting was held at nine o'clock a. m, and preaching at eleven. The love-feast meeting was well attended, and the members of the church appeared to enjoy themselvs well, and when penitents were invited quite a number presented themselves. When eleven o'clock had arrived, the congregation was so large that we were compelled to go to the grove, and I preached from the text, "Escape for thy life." The effect was powerful, and a large number presented themselves at the altar for prayer, and not a few of these were wealthy and influential, but only one made a profession of religion. This now appeared to be the time for breaking up the meeting, and while I was considering what course to adopt, brother Troy approached me and said: "Brother York, this meeting must not be broken up." But I said, "What can I do. The school is to commence

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tomorrow morning, and the distance as you know is ten miles." He replied, "Appoint meeting for this afternoon, and I will see to your getting to the school." This was done, and a large congregation was in attendance before the hour arrived. I preached again, and the effect again was very powerful, and many presented themselves at the altar at prayer. We continued working with the penitents till dark, and while they were lighting up the room, one of the most remarkable events occurred in the history of my life, for almost as sudden as a flash of lightning, every penitent was converted, and such a time I have scarcely ever witnessed. And after the excitemnt had a little subsided, at the request of Brother Troy, I opened the door to receive members, when thirteen gave me their hands and their names, and thus, as it appears to me, my dream was literally fulfilled.

        At the close of my school here I went to Salem Church near Franklinville, Randolph County, and taught there twelve months. During my teaching there and at Ellison town we formed a temperance society in Salem Church which was very prosperous for several years, and no doubt accomplished much good. I frequently preached and lectured on Temperance at various places in the surrounding country, and formed societies at different places. In the summer of '35, I was elected president of Randolph Temperance Society, the meetings of which were held at each court at Asheboro.

        When this school closed I went to York's schoolhouse, at which place a subscription school had been raised for nine months. While here I commenced lecturing on Nat. Phy. on Saturday evenings. For the benefit [of the students] I also formed a night class and instructed the students in Grammar and Arithmetic. And while here I married the second time--to Miss Mary Wells Lineberry. We were united in marriage on November 13th, 1836. In the community of this schoolhouse I preached and lectured frequently on temperance. I formed a society in the town of New Salem, which continued in successful operation for several years. After the school had closed here, a school was made in a new school-house near Walker's Mills, same county, named Piney Grove, in the immediate

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neighborhood of Old Union Meeting-house, as it used to be called, at which place the first camp-meeting was ever held in Randolph County.

        A short time before this meeting commenced, one of Mr. Bell's negro women dreamed that she went from that camp meeting (to be held soon) to heaven, and it is more than probable that her dream was literally fulfilled, for, as it is related, on Sunday afternoon of the camp meeting she became exceedingly happy, and continued shouting and praising God till she fell dead.

        In the spring of '37 we moved into the neighborhood of the school, and occupied a house formerly owned and occupied by Mr. Bell, of revolutionary memory. It is said that Mr. Bell built the church above named, and it generally went by the name of Bell's Meeting-house. It was a log building, not of large dimensions, with a gallery in the end fronting the pulpit, which was generally occupied by the colored people. This was, I think, a free church, for at the time we lived in the neighborhood both the M. E. and the M. P. church had a society in the church with regular preaching, and camp meetings were sometimes held, principally by the M. P. Church. While in this community I lectured frequently on Temperance, at different places.

        On the 25th of June, 1837, the Reverend S. Y. McMasters, of the M. P. Church, and myself were solicited to deliver addresses on temperance in the town of New Salem, N. C. We were also requested to write our addresses. We met on 3:00 o'clock, p. m., in the Quaker Church; but brother McMasters did not attend. The meeting was large, and both editors of the Temperance Advocate were present. An extract of the address which I delivered on the occasion was published in the Temperance Advocate and in The Southern Citizen, published in Ashboro by Benjamin Swaim, Esq. Below is the extract verbatim.*

        * Speech was not enclosed. [Ed.]


        In the month of August during this year, I attended a camp-meeting at Salem Church in the northeast portion of Randolph County. Some twelve or thirteen years previous to this time I had attended a camp meeting at this place when

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a mere youth. The kind treatment with which I was favored by the tent holders made a lasting impression on my mind. These were the Nances, Lewises, Ingrams, Keeams, Woods, and many others. These I remembered with gratitude.

        On Saturday in the afternoon when I first stood before the people to preach, I recognized many of these kind friends, though some of their heads had turned gray. This filled me with emotions which almost choked utterance. I read for my text the 16th and 17th verses of the third chapter of Malichi, "Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another," etc. The excitement was so high that my voice was drown[ed] with the shouting of the people in front and the preachers in the rear. On reaching the preachers tent this unique remark was made by the late Jno. W. Thomas, Esq., "Brethren," said he, "I tell you what this afternoon reminded me of. It reminded me of boys hunting rabbits. The dogs had been trailing for a long time, and when they jumped the rabbit, the boys followed and screamed so in every direction that it distracted the dogs and they lost the rabbit." To this one of the preachers replied, "But we did not lose the rabbit, for, though the preacher was disturbed, the object was gained." At this meeting I was strongly solicited by my P. E., the Rev. James Reid, and the preachers generally, to join conference, but could not at that time give a definite answer.

        During the autumn of this year, brother Thompson Garrett came all the way from Alamance, then Orange, to request me to attend a camp-meeting of his, to be held almost on the banks of the Haw, at Salem Church. Three different denominations had societies in this church, the M. E. Church, the M. P. Church, and the Presbyterian. To this meeting I consented to go, as it would be almost directly in my way to attend my brother John W.'s wedding, to which I had been invited and consented to go. A young preacher by the name of Jackson who was attending my school at Piney Grove, resolved also to go. I did not reach the camp-ground until Sunday, just as the Presiding Elder was closing the eleven o'clock services. I here formed the acquaintance of the late Hezekiah G. Lee, who was the Presiding Elder, and as we were walking to one of the tents for dinner he remarked to me,

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"I have a notion of breaking up this camp-meeting tomorrow morning."

        "Why," said I.

        "Because," said he, "we are doing no good. The Protestant Methodists have just held a camp-meeting here, and never had a single mourner, and we have been here ever since Thursday night and have not had even a grunt. Thompson Garrett," continued he, "is a fool for having appointed a meeting here, for one-half of the people is full of pride, and the other full of prejudice, and the only chance that I can see of doing any good would be to preach to the negroes, and that is not practicable."

        I simply replied, "I have come with the intention of remaining till Wednesday morning if the meeting continues, and the result may possibly be better than you expect."

        "I would rather see it," said he "than hear tell of it, but I want you to preach for me this afternoon." And here the conversation ended. At the appointed hour I preached, and some five or six penitents presented themselves at the altar. At eleven o'clock on Monday the Presiding Elder preached, nor was it any ordinary effort; it was listened to with profound attention but very little visible effect was produced. At two o'clock, I preached according to appointment, but no extraordinary effect was produced. There were generally at each hour some penitents at the altar but very few converts up to Tuesday. At 11 o'clock Tuesday the Presiding Elder occupied the hour. His sermon was excellent, well planned and well executed, but still there was but very little apparent effect. At 2 o'clock p. m. I preached again, from the 21st verse of 12th chapter of the Gospel by St. John:"Sir, we would see Jesus." The spirit of preaching came upon me and when about two-thirds through the sermon, there was a display of divine power that I have never witnessed before nor since. I felt like my feet would leave the floor of the stand so that I involuntarily grasped the book-board. In looking over the congregation I saw many falling from their seats. Some were shouting aloud, while others were crying as loud for mercy. I called for mourners and it appeared to me as if the whole congregation was trying to get into the altar,

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and such was their eagerness to get there that they paid but little attention to the manner in which they came, for they fell over the benches or whatever came in their way, and on leaving the stand, the Presiding Elder, who had taken his seat in the altar, said to me, "I have been in the regular work twenty-five years, but have never witnessed such a work nor such a scene." So wonderful was the effect that some of the brethern searched to see how many there were that were not penitents. The result of the investigation was, that only three could be found, and only one of these was in the congregation at the time of preaching. A Mrs. Thompson, who had been seeking religion nineteen years, and was in despair, remained in her tent. The description of another one was an old decrepit lady that remained in some one of the tents. The description of the other, if I heard it, I have forgotten. The work went on, no stopping for supper. The shout of "Glory!" often mingling with cries for mercy. The fame of the meeting spread rapidly among the dense population of the community, and as night drew on the aurora borealis presented the most remarkable phenomenon that had been witnessed for many years. The whole northern hemisphere appeared almost as red as if on fire, and some of the red rays shot up even to the very zenith. This remarkable phenomenon and the extraordinary work which was progressing filled many of the people with wonder and astonishment, and some seemed to think that the day of judgment was at hand.

        I never knew a people to manifest such anxiety for preaching. They came to the preachers tent, but in crowds, urging most importunately the Presiding Elder to have preaching, but he told them that was impossible, as no man could preach in such a storm. But this did not satisfy them, for they continued to come, urging their pleas for preaching. A little before midnight, the Presiding Elder asked me if I could preach again, if silence could be procured. I simply replied, "I can try, if you desire it." He then ordered the trumpet to be sounded and proclamation to be made that there would be preaching, if the people could be quiet enough to hear. This was done, and the people became quiet enough to justify the

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attempt to preach and just at the hour of midnight I commenced preaching, nor do I think I ever witness[ed] such an anxiety to hear. The crowd was immense, there were many more than the seats could contain; though many stood--there were none walking idly about. The effect was overwhelming, and many were the slain of the Lord. Soon after the sermon was over, I was compelled to retire for some rest, but I believe the work went on without intermission during the whole night. Soon the morning dawned--it was Wednesday, and our horses were brought according to order. According to previous arrangement, brother Jackson and I were to meet my brother at twelve o'clock in Hillsboro, which was about seventeen miles distant from the camp-ground. After breakfast, we packed up, bade the preachers farewell, and left the preachers tent, but my horse was missing. I asked some gentlemen standing by if they knew what had become of my horse. One replied, "I do, for I saw a man take him away, and he directed me to tell you that you will not get him today. But give yourself no uneasiness about him, he will be well taken care of and will be here tomorrow morning, shod all round." I then requested brother Jackson to go on and meet my brother and tell him what had occurred and to go with him, and I would next day go a near way and still reach the place in time for the marriage. The work progressed without intermission and many were the converts, but I know not the exact number, but it was suppos[ed] there were more than 200. I gave orders for my horse to be brought next morning by light. I ate breakfast by candle-light, and my horse having been brought according to order, I again bade the preachers farewell, but to my surprise, when I went out to start my horse again was gone and I was informed that I would see him no more that day. Consequently I was compelled to give up going to the wedding, and I continued at the meeting through another day and night. I gave directions to have my horse brought, and not to take him away again, as I had to reach an appointment for preaching, not for a wedding. My horse was brought according to direction and I left the camp-ground on Friday morning, but the meeting still went on. Though I have never heard the exact number of converts, yet

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the number must have been considerable, and all told I have never witnessed such a work.

        As the conference year began to draw to a close, I was frequently solicited, and even importuned, to join the approaching conference. I simply replied to these solicitations that there was one inseparable difficulty in the way--that I had no horse nor had I any money with which to purchase one, nor was I able to procure a suitable outfit. But this difficulty was soon removed, as one brother offered to furnish a horse, and others offered to furnish the money to procure an outfit. Now, as this difficulty was removed, though I did not feel altogether as clear as could be desired, I consented to offer myself to the c