USA > Delaware > Methodism of the peninsula, or, Sketches of notable characters and events in the history of Methodism in the Maryland and Delaware peninsula > Part 9
USA > Maryland > Methodism of the peninsula, or, Sketches of notable characters and events in the history of Methodism in the Maryland and Delaware peninsula > Part 9
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At a Quarterly Meeting once held at Bolingbroke, on Easton Circuit, Rev. John T. Hazzard, the Presiding Elder, was greatly annoyed on Sunday morning by late arrivals, squalling children and other interruptions, and consequently was quite dissatified with his effort. He consented, however, to preach again that night, and open the extra meeting Rev. Charles I. Thompson, the junior pastor, was appointed to conduct.
At night again, many of the people were late; and the church, being small and crowded, no little confusion was the result. The last person coming in was a young colored man, who had great difficulty in working his way through the crowd standing in the rear aisle, leading to the gallery stairway. Mr. Hazzard paused with a discouraged air, while the boy clambered noisily to the head of the stairs; where, on account of the crowded condition of the gallery, he took his seat. Resuming his discourse, the preacher strove hard to turn the tide
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of battle-and with a fair prospect of success-when, alas! the aforesaid negro, who meantime had gone fast to sleep, lost his balance and came tumbling down the steps, crying, "O Lord ! O my Lord !" with every thump ; and finally, bursting open the stair door in his disorderly descent, and screeching with fright, he rolled out among the demoralized crowd of whites below.
The now utterly vanquished Presiding Elder closed the Bible with an impatient "slam," saying: "It's been nothing but a constant scene of interruption all day, and I'll not try to preach another word!" Springing into the breach with the agility of a young lion, the valiant junior preacher delivered a stirring exhortation, begin- ning with the bold declaration: "We are not going to let the Devil whip us off in this fashion!"' and finally ended with a mighty appeal to the King's enemies to surrender to Emmanuel.
With startling promptness and precipitation, the hardest case in all that region-a stalwart six-foot sailor, weighing nearly two hundred and fifty pounds- sprang to his feet, threw off his coat and vest, and rushed for the altar; where he fell, yelling, kicking, striking out right and left, and writhing under the ter- rible contortions of a mixture of wild fire and bad whiskey; until screaming women and astonished men scattered hither and thither; and the "tall son of Anak," having seriously hurt a number of the men vainly trying to hold him, was master of the situation. Notwithstanding Brother Charlie's confident words and
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brave onslaught, the powers of darkness had prevailed, and the meeting broke up for that night without the formality of even "singing the Benediction !"
Sometimes incidents transpire "in meetin'" that are so childlike, so sincerely devotional, but at the same time so amusing, that the only appropriate and religious thing to do is to laugh at them. Occasionally, incidents of this character reveal a beautiful blending of tears and smiles upon the same Christian face. Of such an inci- dent Dr. Wallace speaks in one of his letters in the Peninsula Methodist.
While he was holding a woods meeting at Cokesbury, on Georgetown circuit in 1856, a man of the world, well advanced in life and influential in that region, was glori- ously converted; and, although wholly unlettered, at once came to the front as an effective worker. Being very anxious for the conversion of his wife, he took Brother Wallace home with him to talk with her on the subject of her soul's salvation. At length she yielded to her convictions, and presented herself at the "mourner's bench." Her rejoicing husband, for a time, was well- nigh wild with excitement over her surrender to Christ; but finally became sufficiently composed to offer audibly the following petition : "O, Lord ! I have got all I kin hold. It's a runnin' over! Do please give some of this sweet religion to Nancy. Poor sould! she wants it so bad! O, my God! If I could, I'd give her all the religion I've got; for I know jest where to git a plenty more!" The kind Lord heard his and Nancy's prayer,
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gave her a full supply of the "sweet religion;" and that, too, without lessening the fullness of her rejoicing hus- band's cup.
Rev. James Brooks Ayres is well remembered by many of the senior Methodists of the Peninsula. In the division of the Philadelphia Conference, he, with most of the "Fathers," gravitated to the northern side of the line; and, on the first assembling of the Wil- mington Conference, the absence of his striking and well-remembered form and features was quite notice- able. He was of medium height, compact build, ruddy face; and his well-marked features revealed no little of nervous and intellectual force, and a striking individ- uality. He seemed hung on wires, and went bouncing around like a ball of India rubber. One could no more calculate what Mr. Ayres would do next than he could prognosticate the gyrations of a whirlwind. His mind was logical but uncertain in its course, and liable at any moment to switch off into the most absurd vagaries. First and last, he traversed the Peninsula well-nigh all over, and everywhere left the impress of his angular personality.
The preaching of James B. Ayres was a strange mix- ture of strong, logical, manly reasoning, that grappled fearlessly the mysteries of the Divine administration in nature and redemption, and the most grotesque and ridiculous anecdote. Not infrequently, after preaching a sermon that would capture the minds and hearts of the thoughtful and reverent of his audience, he would
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suddenly shock their sensibilities and convulse the more frivolous by the most absurd and ludicrous recitals. Such was the case when the writer heard him preach a masterly sermon on a camp-ground near Sudlersville, Maryland, in the summer of 1853. Had he stopped when he was done, the effect of the discourse would have been most salutary. But reverting to some point in the sermon, he introduced a far-fetched story as an illustration, and went into a twenty-minute recital of how "John," the son of a wealthy and worldly family, somewhere on the Peninsula, had gotten under convic- tion for sin. His parents had tried in vain, by a series of gay pleasures, to divert his mind from the subject. A camp-meeting was to be held a few miles away. John wanted permission to attend it, but was denied. As the Sunday of the meeting approached, his wretchedness so increased, that his parents finally consented to go and spend the day, with the entire household, on the camp- ground. But it was on conditions indicated in the fol- lowing colloquy :
"John," said his father, "if we take you to the camp- meeting, we don't want you to turn fool and jump up and down, like some of the Methodists do."
" All right, father; I won't jump."
" And we shall all be ashamed of you, John, if you yell amen, or glory, or hallelujah, like the Methodists do. If you must pray and be religious, do so; but you'll mortify your mother and sisters to death, if you get to imitating these outlandish Methodists."
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"Well, father, I'll not say amen, or glory, or halle- lujah."
"You won't do anything like the Methodists do?"
" All right, father ; I promise you I won't."
To make Ayres' long story short, as soon as the family arrived on the ground, and were comfortably seated be- neath the shade of a spreading oak at the far end of the block of seats from the preacher's stand, John excused himself; and going straight to the altar, where the eight o'clock prayer-meeting was in progress, he kneeled at the "mourners' bench," wrestling, like Jacob of old, with the Angel of the Covenant. Just as the trumpet sounded for preaching, John, like Jacob, prevailed, and was gloriously saved. Although all the language of Canaan bubbled up from his glad heart to his lips, John remembered and faithfully kept his promise. Rushing from the altar place, he started to make the circuit of the encampment, exclaiming at the top of his voice, "Out of the dark; into the light ! Out of the dark ; into the light !" At this point of his story, Ayres, in imitation of the youth, and stepping as high as a blind horse, tramped around on the floor of the stand, throwing his arms in wild gesticulation, and yelling in imitation of the young man's exclamation. Said he :
" As John came round by where the family were seated, the old man suggested-'Say glory, John.' But he tramped on, still crying, 'Out of the dark ; into the light !' On his next circuit, both father and mother nervously called out : 'John, don't say that; say halle-
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lujah !' But on he tramped, with 'Out of the dark ; into the light !' "
"By the time John came around on his third circum- ambulation, most of the Christians on the camp-ground were shouting, and many of the unconverted were weeping. As he approached, the humiliated family arose and started off the ground. As father and son met, the old gentleman, with menacing fist almost in John's face, growled out in the fury of his vexation : 'Why don't you jump, and holler amen, you confounded idiot !' As the family coach rolled away down the road, above its rattle and the great volume of song from the assembled multitude, the disgusted parents and sisters heard John's jubilant 'Out of the dark ; into the light !'" It was not so much the grim humor of the incident, as the dramatic exaggerations of Mr. Ayres in its recital, that so completely upset the gravity and decorum of his audience, and obliterated the good effects of his excellent sermon. As in the case of the kicking cow and her pail of milk, this harum-scarum old preacher had ruth- lessly destroyed his own good. Fortunately, it was not always thus ; and sometimes Mr. Ayres' preaching was in the demonstration of the Spirit and with power.
Mr. Ayres was a mighty hater of all iniquities; but the iniquity on which his powers of hatred were most intensely concentrated, was the moustache. In his opinion, if a man was otherwise without blemish or spot, a moustache would surely close against him the gate of heaven's kingdom. At the same camp-meeting
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where he preached the above-mentioned sermon, coming to a young man at the penitential altar, whose upper lip thus aroused his special antipathy, he roughly said to him : "Young man, you may as well get up and leave. God Almighty is not going to have mercy and save you with a thing like that upon your upper lip. Get up, and go shave it off, and come to God with a clean face." The poor fellow dejectedly arose and slunk away into the darkness of the woods, beyond the circle of tents, and I saw him no more.
To Mr. Ayres no meal was complete without his cup of coffee. At the Pratt's Branch Camp one sum- mer, he had been unfortunate in the invitations he had accepted to dinner, and failed for two days to receive the refreshing beverage. On the morning of the third day he was put up to exhort after the sermon by the preacher for the occasion. He began by telling about a great camp-meeting he had just attended over in Maryland, and what a good time they had both socially and religiously ; and wound up his description by saying: "Yes, my friends; and the sisters over there gave us a cup of good, strong coffee with white sugar in it, every day for dinner." Of course this clever device brought the answer, and thereafter brother Ayres always secured his cup of coffee.
In the same exhortation he soundly berated his frail brethren, among whom was the writer, for having bron- chitis and other throat ailments. He insisted it was because they were too lazy, or too nice and fastidious to
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holler ; and wound up his tirade with the most emphatic expression of his conviction that, preaching his way with full swing and a plenty of healthy noise, the bronchitis could not get hold of him, if it should make the effort, in forty years. A few months afterwards, the author called at the Greensborough parsonage to express his sympathy with poor brother Ayres, who, at the time and for many weeks, was bound hand and foot upon his bed of suffering by Inflammatory Rheumatism. It is due to him, however, to say that his vocal powers were still unimpaired; but then about the only thing in the world the poor old man could now do was to holler ; and, with every new twist and twitch of the tormentor, he did so manfully. Years ago, the old hero passed through his last pang; and, out of great tribulation, went up among the blood-washed throng, where, no doubt, he has been induced to revise and modify some of the theories he so pertinaciously held to on earth.
The very antipodes of James B. Ayres was his contem- porary, James A. Massey. Tall, angular and somewhat ungainly, with sometimes a strangely vacant look, and with facial contortions suggestive of a grotesque phase of idiocy, his presence would at once arrest the stranger's attention and start the inquiry : "What manner of man is this ?" When, at last, his curiosity was gratified, he settled down to the conviction that the man before him was no ordinary personage. He was a solid, Gospel preacher, dealing in no theories, and rarely ever illustra- ting by incident. He was, perhaps, abnormally serious,
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never provoking by his thought or imagery even a mental smile. But one of his most distinguishing personal traits was his abstraction and absent-mindedness. Many are the stories, floating around in the various Peninsular fields he traversed, illustrative of this peculiarity. As an example, one will be sufficient. Walking, one day, in company with his boy, Will, a street of Princess Anne, as they passed a cow quietly grazing by the side of the pavement, Mr. Massey politely lifted his hat, saying, "Good afternoon, Madam." Will roared out, "Ha, ha, ha !" in boisterous laughter ; and said, between his con- vulsions, "Why, fa-father, that-ha, ha, ha !- that was a cow !" "Was it?" said he; and instantly turning toward her ladyship, and again politely lifting his hat, he humbly importuned : "I beg your pardon, Ma'am !"
In 1860, Mr. Massey, with Rev. Geo. Cummins as his colleague, was assigned to Onancock Circuit, on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. The excitement on the slavery agitation was at high tide; and in the early summer, a mass meeting was held at Pungoteague, at which it was resolved to appoint a committee of nineteen, who were charged with the duty of driving the Metho- dist preachers from Virginia "by any means they might find necessary."
During preaching at Garrison's Chapel the following Sunday morning, this great committee appeared on the scene and entered the church; but so manifest was the Divine presence in the service, that they could not muster courage to interrupt it. They notified the people, how-
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ever, that there should be no preaching allowed at Trinity in the afternoon; and that, if the minister attempted it, he would be mobbed. Mr. Cummins was strongly urged not to risk holding service. A good local preacher-Mr. Humphrey-earnestly importuned him to desist. The young hero assured him, however, that he should pay no attention to threats, and should meet his engagement ; whereupon, Mr. Humphrey kindly volunteered to go, and support him by his presence. Dining at father Richardson's, Mr. Cummins met a young Doctor and an Editor, who also admonished him not to go to Trinity. Firm in his purpose, the young man assured them that he should certainly go, esteeming it his duty to God to meet all engagements in the line of his calling, regardless of consequences. The two young gentlemen then replied: "Well, if you are determined to go, we'll go too, and see you through." They meant the preacher should understand this as an assurance of sympathy and protection; but, judging by their demeanor, he rightfully interpreted their words as a menace. Nev- ertheless he expressed his gratification at their assurance, and added: "I shall be very happy to see you there, gentlemen."
On arriving at the church, he found the committee present in full force, and amply supported by an excited and noisy mob. Scarcely waiting for him to dismount from his horse, they surrounded him, pressing upon him so closely that he could scarcely hitch the animal. In most emphatic and sulphurous language they warned
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him at his peril not to attempt to enter the church. Mr. Cummins quietly assured them that where duty led it was his purpose, by God's help, to follow; adding: "Gentlemen ; I see it is time to begin the service, and I shall have to ask you to excuse me from further parleying;" at the same time starting toward the door of the little sanctuary. Strangely enough, the mob parted as he proceeded, and allowed him to pass; and he entered the church and ascended the pulpit, followed by the hooting crowd. True to his promise, the good local preacher was in his accustomed place in the " amen corner"-the only friend the preacher had, all others having been effectually intimidated and kept at home.
The crowd pressed close up to the pulpit, with hats on and with segars in their mouths. The breath they expended in curses was redolent with the odorous admix- ture of tobacco and whiskey. Loudly and peremptorily they demanded that the preacher instantly vacate the pulpit and leave the church. In addition, they insisted that he should notify his colleague not to attempt to hold service at Garrison's Chapel the next Sabbath ; and, furthermore, that he-Cummins-should agree to leave Virginia, "on pain of a coat of tar and feathers, and even worse."
Said Mr. Cummins, coolly : "Gentlemen; I shall decline to do any part of your dirty work for you. As to leaving the church and departing from the state, it is not my habit to allow anything to interfere with the attempt to perform my duty; nor do I usually dismiss 7
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a service, under any circumstances, without at least offering prayer." A somewhat waggish fellow by the name of Barnum, replicd : "Mr. Cummins, I'm afraid we are not exactly in a spirit to profit by your prayers;" at which there was such boisterous hilarity that Mr. Cummins felt that any service he might attempt would be in violation of his Master's admonition not to cast pearls before swine, and wisely desisted.
Again did the mob announce, as their ultimatum, that he must instantly leave the church and promise not to preach again in Virginia, unless he agreed to take authority to do so from the Southern Methodist Church, or he would at once be summarily dealt with. Straightening himself, with defiant look and attitude, he informed them that he would make no such conces- sion or promise; and that he would leave the pulpit and church voluntarily, only when it suited him to do so. Thereupon, a voice from the crowd exclaimed : "Phew ! I do believe that Methodist preacher would fight !" By this time the brave and chivalrous knights of Dixie be- trayed their want of pluck; their countenances fell; their bravado was exhausted, and the heroic and triumphant Cummins, having, like the intrepid Irishman, "sur- rounded forty men," including the Doctor and Editor before mentioned, leisurely walked through the midst of the mob, assuring them that when they desired again to see him, he would be in his accustomed place; and, mounting his horse, departed to his stopping place at Mr. Richardson's.
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Soon after his arrival the Doctor and Editor made their appearance, and began lugubriously to condole with him. They grew eloquent in their expressions of indig- nation that the old commonwealth of Virginia should be so disgraced, and a minister of the Gospel so wantonly insulted. At the close of their five minutes' harangue the young preacher, looking them squarely in the face, said : "Gentlemen, it is all true. It is a burning dis- grace. But I don't blame the poor, ignorant and drunken fellows, who formed the bulk of the mob, half so much as I do those who ought to know better, and who sat quietly by giving the mob their sympathy and support." At this remark, they silently exchanged sig- nificant glances for a moment; then picked up their hats and slunk away from the house.
On the following Sunday morning, Mr. Massey, de- spite the threats of the committee of nineteen, drove to Garrison's chapel and met his congregation. Soon after he began the service, the mob appeared upon the scene, headed by the famous committee. Dick Ayres, the leader, a stalwart man weighing two hundred and fifty pounds, ascended the pulpit to the side of the preacher, and began haranguing the crowd. At this juncture, an old sister of seventy years climbed over the altar-rail ; ascended the steps; and, collaring the rowdy, by a dex- terous jerk snatched him off his feet and upon his back on the floor. Then, grabbing him by his flowing hair, she pounded his head upon the floor until he begged for mercy. While the men of the congregation sat still in
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amazement, the ladies of the church put themselves in attitude to defend their pastor ; and it was the impression of the spectators that, had not Mr. Massey counseled non-resistance and suspended the service, they would have soon cleared the church of the cowardly rabble.
The last contact of these ministers with the redoubt- able committee of nineteen occurred, some two weeks after, at Drummondtown, where they stopped on their return from a funeral. The county Court was in session, and an exciting murder trial had drawn together a great concourse of the denizens of every part of the county. While Mr. Massey was hitching his horse, Mr. Cum- mins, taking his stand on the steps of a store-house, was scanning the concourse in search of friends he de- sired to see. At this moment the mob, headed by the committee, pressed around Mr. Massey in threatening manner. The old gentleman, in evident alarm, appealed to their manhood and sympathy, on the ground of his age, his calling, his southern birth and his interest, in common with them and all Virginians, in the well-being and good name of their native state. In reply, they disclaimed any purpose of physical violence ; and, at the command of the leader, the crowd fell back, allowing Mr. Massey to go in peace. They then gathered about Mr. Cummins, saying: "We are authorized, Mr. Cum- mins, to say to you what we have just said to Mr. Mas- sey,-that you must not again attempt to hold service at Garrison's chapel."
Said the young minister : "What will be the penalty, gentlemen, if I do?"
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The significant reply was, "You'll find out what the penalty is !"
Assuming an attitude as if their master, and as if making sport of them, the hero responded: "Anything more, gentlemen ?"
As if dazed and cowed by the preacher's coolness, they responded, "No;" when, master of the situation, Mr. Cummins quietly went about his business.
Both preachers continued to fill their appointments ; but at the end of a few weeks, Mr. Cummins was trans- ferred by the Presiding Elder to fill a vacancy at Salis- bury, Maryland.
James A. Massey finished his conference year in peace; when, the war breaking out, a military despot- ism in the interest of the Southern Confederacy, took possession of all that part of Virginia; and the ministers of the Methodist Episcopal Church were, for some three years, forcibly excluded.
Mr. Massey was as honest a soul as ever trod the soil of the Peninsula. Despite his frailty, heretofore men- tioned, he was a man of sound, discriminating judgment, good executive ability, and faithful in all things. He was more than once called to fill the important office of Presiding Elder; and, in all the sacred trusts to him committed, he purchased for himself a good degree. The intellectual cloud that shadowed the last few years of his life, gave way amid the glory of his setting sun; and, in the blessed regions whither he has gone, there is no night, and the endless day is without cloud or
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shadow. His colleague and partner in Virginia tribu- lation is now an influential and manly member of the Philadelphia Conference.
"Soldiers of Christ, well done !"
One of the author's conference class-mates of the spring of 1853 was an unsophisticated Englishman, Rev. Thomas Childs, of precious memory. He was a young man of frail physique, and a great sufferer from that terrible scourge, asthma ; which oftentimes seriously interfered with both his comfort and his efficiency, and, at length, brought his career to an untimely termination. Although of such haughty blood, he was of gentle spirit and quiet demeanor,-possibly owing to the chastening influence of sanctified affliction. His natural abilities were above mediocrity; and his preaching was often both attractive and in the demonstration of spiritual power. Brother Childs had little of the spirit of self- assertion and egotism characteristic of the typical Eng- lishman ; but was possessed of an unobtrusive and pleasant humor, that now and then rippled over the surface, as if set in motion by some passing, playful zephyr. In our first examination on the course of con- ference study, Dr. George R. Crooks, chairman of the committee, was questioning the class on some abstruse point in speculative divinity. At an early period of the examination, it became apparent that, for some reason, Brother Childs was embarrassed with difficulty ; and he hesitated and stumbled so much as to excite the sympa- thy of his class-mates. At length, on the proposal of
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