USA > Ohio > Twenty-five years in the West > Part 4
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hymn was sung, in which nearly all, sailors and passen- gers, participated.
Shortly after services, a small cloud was observed in the west. The captain, knowing what it betokened, or- dered the vessel trimed for a gale. In a few minutes, the wind was howling through the rigging, and the ves- sel plunging from wave to wave, as if eager to flee from the wrath of the storm-king. The gale continued above an hour, when the wind abated, the clouds dispersed, the sun again brightly shone, and the sea became smooth as a mirror. The gulf at that season of the year, is sub- ject to such gusts of passion. A few nights after, when sound asleep on the quarter-deck, for it was too hot to rest below, one of these gales crossed our track, and a huge wave breaking over the vessel, dashed me across the deck, when I scrambled up, and ran into the cabin, not fancying so unceremonious a sea-bath. One night, a man jumped overboard, and was lost- he must have been insane. Friends at home probably waited with alternate hope and fear for his return, and, perhaps, never knew of his sad fate. At that time, Mexico and Texas were at war, and armed vessels were in the gulf looking after prizes. One day, a large ship was observed in the distance, bearing down upon us, without showing colors. Our captain was alarmed. With a pale face, he eyed the stranger through his telescope. We were all fearful it was a Mexican armed vessel, and that we should be taken into Matamoras, for there were contraband goods on board, but were finally relieved by the ship showing English colors, tacking eastward and leaving us.
Sailed up Matagorda bay a few miles, but the water being shallow, I got on board a lighter, and landed at a village, the name of which I do not now remember.
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After spending a few weeks in and near that locality, I resolved to return to the "States." I at once com- menced making preparation to go to Houston by the land route, and thence to New Orleans by water. The distance to Houston is one hundred and sixty miles. Being informed there were but few inhabitants on the road, and most of them in a starving condition, as the Mexican army the season previous had passed through that region, I carried food to last to the end of my land journey. Tea, coffee, sugar, salt or flour, could not be obtained for love or money. Everybody lived on fresh beef, without salt or pepper, save here and there an aris- tocrat who had a little corn meal in his larder. I bought some beef, cut it in slices, and dried it in the sun.
With a good supply of dried beef, and nothing else, a tin canteen, a blanket and a staff, I commenced my journey, on foot and alone, through the wild prairies of Texas. I found the country to be nearly all prairie, the surface quite level, and the soil rich and deep. The forest trees were generally covered with ivy, which gave them a melancholy appearance. Live oaks abounded in some localities. Alligators flourished in the streams; Indians, snakes, tarantulas and horned toads, on the land. Often traveled a day without seeing a human being or his habitation. When night came on, would eat my dried beef, drink some water which I had carried, perhaps, all day, then roll myself in my blanket, lay on the ground and go to sleep, not knowing there was a human being within miles of me. Was four weeks going to Houston, and did not sleep in a house one night on the route.
I well remember of suffering intensely one day from thirst. It was a sultry day, and the morning repast had
In the West.
exhausted my little supply of water. Expected to find more of the blessed beverage about noon in a small grove. Reached the spot, but no water there; the bed where there had been a stream was dry and hard. It was a sore disappointment, for I was very thirsty. As I could not eat my dried beef without water, I pressed on towards the Colorado river, which seemed about fifteen miles distant, for I could see the timber bordering on the stream. Reached the timber a little after dark, but how far it was to the river, I knew not. Plunged into the forest in the direction I knew the stream must lay, as it ran southward. The moon, just risen, was my only guide, for be it known, I was on no road. It proved to be about four miles to the river; and how I got through, I know not. There was no path, the thick foliage of the forest admitted but little moonlight, and the underbrush, vines and branches of trees, made the whole distance a perfect thicket. But I went through with a rush, regard- less of scratches, snakes, or anything else, for water I must have. About ten o'clock, reached the bank of the river, reflecting the full moon, which had been my guide through the dense forest . and never did a traveler on the Arabian desert behold the long sought pool with more delight. It seemed to be my friend, my savior ; and had I been an idolator, should have fallen down and worshiped it. Filled my canteen and drank till I was satisfied. Bathed head, face, hands and feet in the glorious river. On the bank partook of my humble repast - dried beef and water - with a thankful heart. With my blanket around me, I laid down on the ground and slept, never better, till the hot morning sun shining in my face awoke me when it was about two hours high. I have often wondered how I dared to sleep that night,
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knowing as I did, that there were alligators in the river, and bears, wolves, and poisonous reptiles in the woods. In the morning I again partook of beef and water with an excellent relish.
But a new difficulty now presented itself. A deep river was before me, without a bridge or a boat, and I could not swim. But cross the stream I must. In the first place, I explored the river up and down several miles, hoping to find some one to aid me, but not a sign of a human being could I discover. I resolved to attempt crossing the river on logs; and after much hard work succeeded in getting two of sufficient size into the water, fastened them together with strips of my blanket, and with pole in hand, launched into the river. The stream being quite rapid, my frail craft floated down about one mile, but I safely landed on the opposite shore without much trouble. After wandering in the cane- brake two hours, I struck a road, thanked God and took courage.
I soon came to a house where I had the good fortune to obtain a quart of corn which I ground in an old coffee mill, and made some excellent bread of corn meal and water. Passed through San Felippi where was once a village, but only its ruins then remained, for the Mexi- cans had destroyed it. Waking one morning about sun- rise, I was amazed by the presence of six naked Indians squatting in the grass around me. I jumped to my feet ; they saw I was astonished, but I noticed they smiled. Taking courage by that friendly token, I walked up to them and extended my right hand. They offered me the pipe of peace, which was gladly accepted. They did not understand a word of English, nor I a word of
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Indian. We talked, however, in gestures. They re- mained an hour, when we parted in peace.
When within thirty miles of Houston, I sold my watch for fifteen dollars, expecting I should need the money to help pay expenses to the States. After receiving the money, I heard a woman remark, "It will do him no good, for he will spend it all in Houston for liquor." I suppose she would have thought I lied, if I had told her I had never drank a glass of liquor. Ar- riving at Houston, I renovated self and clothing, for both were rather dilapidated. Samuel Houston was then president of Texas. Was introduced to him, and dined with him once in the log cabin where he boarded. He was a good talker, but an awful swearer. Oath after oath rolled from his tongue without an effort. It is said, General Jackson was an eloquent swearer, but I have doubts of his beating General Houston in that depart- ment of eloquence. I witnessed his departure for the interior of Texas, to treat with some Indian tribes. The ferryman did not handle the boat to suit the President, and he poured battery after battery of oaths on the poor fellow's head. On leaving, he embraced, after the French fashion, his friends who had followed him to the boat. I was on the San Jacinto battle ground, a few miles from Houston. That little fight was a short but decisive con- test. The Mexican forces were totally routed, and Santa Anna taken prisoner. That battle crowned Houston with glory and honor - in Texas. The town of Houston, when I was there, was a moral desert- a hell on earth. Vice of most every name and grade reigned triumphantly. The Attorney-General of Texas, while I was there, roamed the streets most of one night, drunk, and hatless, coatless, bootless, daring any one to fight with him
.
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The people laughed about his disgraceful conduct as if it was a trifling matter and of common occurrence. It is to be hoped the morals of that place have improved.
Intending to go to New Orleans by water, I went in a lighter down Buffalo bayou to Galveston bar where the steamer was anchored. The passage down occupied three days, and the vessel was a perfect pandemonium - the officers and hands were quarreling or fighting most of the time. Dirks and pistols were freely used. Buck- wheat cakes and fat hog-sides were served to us three times a day. And oh, what cakes. The cook baked them about an inch thick, without any rising properties, and put them on the table stone cold. Fine cakes - thick, cold and solid. Finally reached the steamer, and the captain promised a quick passage to New Or- leans and good fare. But the passengers soon learned, when it was too late though, that the boat was an old, rotten, condemned hulk; that provisions were scarce, and the captain a scamp. Time and again the engine broke, or some of the running gear. Water and food soon being nearly exhausted, we were allowed only one pint of water and one Boston cracker per day. The fuel being all consumed, we had to burn part of the boat to get into port. Were a week in going from Galveston bar to the mouth of the Mississippi river, when the trip should have been made in thirty-six hours. Fortunately we had pleasant weather, for one such squall as we had going out .would have sent the whole concern to the bottom of the gulf.
When I returned to New Orleans it was mid-summer, and the city presented a very different appearance from what it did when I was there the previous winter. Then business was at its zenith, now at its nadir; then the
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hotels, streets and marts of trade were crowded, now there was plenty of room; then steamboats and vessels were receiving and discharging freight for and from every clime, now the shipping was meager; then the weather was pleasant, now the heat was scorching, burn- ing, melting; then it was healthy, now the yellow fever and almost every other fever, were raging. Exposure and hard fare in Texas ultimated in ague and fever. Had several chills while in Houston; when at sea be- yond the land breeze was free from them; but soon as I inhaled the air from shore, they returned with in- creased violence, and it was two years before I entirely regained my former good health.
I was soon on board a steamer bound for Cincin- nati; and after a voyage of two weeks, landed at Leaven- worth, Ind., where I remained three months doctoring for the ague.
CHAPTER IV.
Partially recovering my health, I gladly resumed traveling and preaching. E. B. Mann resided near Leavenworth, but his labor in the ministry extended on both sides of the Ohio river from the Miami to the Wa- bash rivers. This circuit, which was about two hundred miles round, he traveled on horseback once a month. He also distributed a large number of denominational books. His mind was not graced with education or literature, yet his efforts were blessed with a good degree of success. He is now dead, and his mortal remains repose near Leavenworth, the center of his labors for many years.
I lectured in L. and vicinity three weeks, and then proceeded to Louisville, Ky. N. Wadsworth was residing there, and publishing a paper called The Berean ; and at his earnest solicitation, I spent three months soliciting subscribers for it. Mr. W. was formerly a Methodist minister, but then cherished a more liberal faith. His talent was above mediocrity, his acquirements fair, and besides, was a good man, and devoted to the cause he espoused, and the profession of his choice. He was small in stature and feeble in health -too small and feeble for his large and active brain. A year after, he moved to Troy, Mo .; his periodical was discontinued, and he died of consumption after laboring with excellent success about one year. His widow resides there still, and though she has changed her name, the home of brother and sister Sydnor is ever a welcome retreat for
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our ministers. It has been my privilege to spend many pleasant hours in their company. The grave of my early friend is in the Troy cemetery; and I have read the brief monumental inscription on the cold marble at its head through tearful eyes.
I bought a horse of Mr. Wadsworth, and was to pay for it in obtaining subscribers for his paper. It was the first horse I had owned, and felt quite rich and very inde- pendent. Preached in many of the towns within fifty miles of Louisville in Kentucky and Indiana. In Salem, Ind., delivered a series of sermons. A merchant there told me that his counting-room was his chapel, his ledger his Bible, and money his religion. He was then doing a large and lucrative business. A few years after he had no counting-room, no ledger, no money, and died a mis- erable death - the natural result of so profane a life. General Clarke, an old Indian warrior, resided near Salem. He attended my meetings, and I was often at his house. He said he had helped steal Kentucky and Indiana from the Indians. He was an intelligent man, but a zealous Atheist. He admitted, that faith in a God of goodness, wisdom, justice, and in the immortal bless- edness of mankind, is more satisfactory, and yields more happiness than Atheism; and if such exalted and benev- olent sentiments had received his attention ere his present views had become permanently established, he might have embraced them, but now he was too old to learn. I used to rejoin : your admission is fatal to your creed. If a belief in God and immortality confers more happi- ness than the denial of a God and a hereafter, that is the best of evidence that Atheism is false, and religion truth, for truth always confers more happiness than error.
At Bedford a Presbyterian minister abruptly attacked
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me at the close of a discourse. "If the pain of the damned will cease," said he, "so will the joy of the saved ; for the same words express the duration of both." " Never," I replied, " was a man more mistaken. The Bible speaks of endless life, but not a word about end- less death. The popular terms, ' endless death,' 'endless misery,' 'endless woe,' 'endless damnation,' 'endless hell,' found in the creeds of men, do not once occur in the Bible. Read all that Moses and the prophets, Jesus and the apostles, said or wrote, and you will not find those terms once, not even once, in the Old or New Testaments. Endless life is a Bible term, but those other endlesses are wretched fictions. The Bible says, 'O hell, I will be thy destruction ;' but where does it say, O heaven, I will be thy destruction? "
Finding but few of the liberal faith in the vicinity of Louisville, I journeyed to Ohio. Preached in Cincinnati, Mount Healthy, Hamilton, Oxford and Middletown. In the latter place a clergyman of another faith attended my meetings, and at the close of each discourse entered his solemn protest against what had been said. He was a German, and in one of his harangues said, " This man believes the fire will be squenched, I believe the fire will not be squenched." But he became so interested, he pro- posed traveling with me a few weeks, but not caring for his company, did not accept of his offer.
Proceeded to Dayton; and having reference to no one, I engaged the Court-house for meetings the next day-Sunday. Wrote some notices of the proposed meetings, and while putting them up in different parts of the town, a gentleman introduced himself, who proved to be the mayor of the city. He kindly informed me of a man of my faith, on whom I called, and was received
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with a hearty welcome. Delivered two discourses on Sunday; and Monday morning when preparing to leave, several friends called, and earnestly urged me to remain, at least, a few months. The town, they said, had just been scourged by a crazy revival, and if I should tarry awhile, they were sure a church would be estab- lished. Told them I could not, being under obli- gation to obtain seventy subscribers for The Berean, and must travel to get them. "If that number should be obtained in this town, will you tarry with us?" queried the gentlemen. I replied, that I would. Notice was then given there would be a meeting on the evening of that day. I delivered a discourse, and at the close a friend informed the congregation I had consented to remain three months, if seventy subscribers were obtained for The Berean. In a few minutes the required number were secured. We soon organized a church, a choir, and our meetings were well attended during my sojourn in that pleasant town. I wrote two sermons each week, and committed them to memory-did not take the man- uscript into the desk. The church paid me one hundred dollars for my services. My health not being good, I declined remaining after the stipulated time had expired. The church, after I left, built a meeting-house, and pros- pered for several years. I am not informed of its present condition.
While residing in Dayton, I preached in Springfield, Centerville, and other places within twenty or thirty miles of the city. The former place was the residence of George Messenger, a minister of the Common Salva- tion. His church was building a meeting-house. D. R. Biddlecom, well known in the West as a minister of the Restitution, visited me. He was then, as he is yet, trav-
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eling and scattering the good seed broadcast over the land.
Taking leave of my dear friends in Dayton, I pro- ceeded to Cincinnati. Stopped in Mason, and delivered four discourses. Here I met Robert Smith, a singular kind of a man, but of considerable ability. He deemed it wrong to pray in public, baptize, or partake of the eucharist. Such extreme views being offensive to our people, he was not always cordially received. This offended him, and he subsequently joined the Disciples, prayed in public, eat bread and drank wine every Sab- bath, and taught that immersion in water is a condition of salvation ! When I returned to Cincinnati, J. A. Gurley was publishing the Star in the West in that city. He was an active and enterprising man, possessed re- spectable talent, and was a forcible speaker. He was a popular preacher in the West, while he continued in the ministry. He made himself a beautiful home near Cin- ยท cinnati, and lived under his own vine and fig-tree. Hav- ing made two or three hundred thousand dollars-on paper-by Chicago town-lots, he abandoned the Star and the' ministry, and jumped into the muddy pool of politics. He was a member of Congress two terms, and died the territorial governor of Arizona. Here I met for the first time, George Rogers, a well known minister of our faith, and the author of several acceptable books. During his brief ministry, he traveled extensively in the South and West, publishing the glad tidings of life and immortality. He was a little man physically, but a large man intellectually and morally. His voice was feeble, but his words were weighty. He broke down by hard labor a good constitution, and died in the prime of life.
Mr. Rogers having recently traveled in Indiana, ad-
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vised me to spend a few months in that state. Heeding his advice, in a few days I was on the road, bound for Indiana. It was then the middle of May, 1838, and I did not expect to return till the latter part of autumn. Mounting my faithful horse, I rode to Harrison, where I preached in the evening. As soon as I had said amen, George Campbell, a Disciple, expressed an ardent desire to reply. He was told he would be heard attentively. The chief point he made was, that "Universalism is a new doctrine, and therefore cannot be the gospel, for that is old- most eighteen hundred years old." I replied, that it is old as revelation; that its distinguishing features were revealed to our first parents by the Creator. To them he said, " In the day you sin you shall surely die." They did sin, and died the death threatened. St. Paul calls it a "death in trespasses and in sins;" "to be carnally minded," he says, "is death," and he terms this death the wages of sin. This is the death God threat- ened the primitive pair; and if we sin we die the same death-no mistake about that. Mark also the impor- tant fact, they were to suffer this punishment in THE DAY they sinned. It was not to be deferred till the next day, the next year, or the next world, but in the day, when and where they sinned, they were to begin to suffer the penalty of transgression. And it is true now as it was six thousand years ago, that in the DAY we sin we are punished. It is true in this town as in the Garden of Eden, that in the day we sin we are punished. It is true of us as of Adam and Eve, that in the day we sin we are punished. Truth is eternal; the laws of God are unchangeable, the same yesterday, to-day and forever. As sin and its penalty in the beginning were chained together, it is thus now, and ever will be thus. Here
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then, in the very beginning, we are taught the certainty of punishment -"in the day you sin you shall be punished; " and here also we are taught, that punishment is immediate -in the day they sinned the penalty was to overtake them. These ancient truths we believe and preach - they are portions of the gospel. But my friend, Mr. Campbell, denies all this. He contends that punishment is not certain, is not immediate ; that a person may sin three-score years and ten without being punished, for remember, he denied that God judges in the earth ; he said, that is a new doctrine, one of our heresies, not taught in the Bible. He also teaches, that a man, after spending seventy years in crime of the blackest dye, can, by complying with certain conditions, escape all punish- ment in eternity, and occupy as high a seat in heaven as St. Paul or St. John. In a word, Mr. C. denies squarely and fully the truth of the divine Word, "In the day you sin you shall surely be punished."
But the gentleman is not the first to make that denial, and this is not the first place where this truth has been called a lie. He has an ancient precedent, he is follow- ing an old leader, he has taken lessons from an old mas- ter. The tempter preached in Eden's garden just what the gentleman has been preaching here to-night, with so much zeal. " Ye shall not surely die," said the arch deceiver; "God will not surely punish you; there is a way to escape. Besides, don't believe a word of it, that you will be punished in the day you sin." Mr. C. has taken the tempter's text this evening, and I give him credit for sticking to the text of the father of lies. Our doctrine, then, relative to punishment, is not new, neither is Mr. Campbell's doctrine, concerning punishment, new. But ours and his are from different sources -one is of
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God, who is the author of truth ; the other of the serpent, the father of lies. They are both ancient doctrines, but judge ye which is from heaven, and which is from hell.
The doctrine of salvation - universal salvation - is not a new thing either under the sun, as Mr. C. affirm- ed. Immediately after sin and its dire results had en- tered the world, and while the first sinners were yet trembling with guilt in the blissful gardens, it was re- vealed to them that the "SEED of the woman should bruise the serpent's head." It is generally considered, that "the Seed of the woman " was the future Christ, whose advent occurred four thousand years afterwards. This Seed was also promised through the Jewish patri- archs. "In thee and in thy Seed shall all nations of the earth be blessed." And St. Paul distinctly asserts, that Jesus is here intended. "Now to Abraham and his Seed were the promises made. He saith not, And to Seeds as of many ; but as of one, And to thy Seed which IS CHRIST." Gal. iii. 16. The Seed, then, promised to our first parents, and to the patriarchs, is Jesus Christ. He was to bruise the serpent's head. Serpent, in the Bible, is a symbol of sin. A serpent is a low, vile, cruel reptile, so vice is low, vile, cruel. It worms its slimy folds into our thoughts, purposes, character, life, and is sure to poison everything it touches. But Jesus Christ is to bless all nations by bruising the serpent's head. When we kill a snake, our blows are aimed at its head ; so Jesus is to crush the head of the serpent, that is, de- stroy sin, and thus bless all nations, as the patriarchs were assured.
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