VOLUME 1 — BOOK II — CHAPTER IV
LABORS AND TRIALS DURING THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR

Watters itinerating in Maryland and Virginia — Sanctification — Watters locates — Freeborn Garrettson — His early Life — His Conversion — He emancipates his Slaves — Goes about doing good — Begins to preach — Ezekiel Cooper — Garrettson itinerating in Maryland, Virginia, and Delaware — Scenes in his Ministry — Hartley preaching through the windows of Talbot Jail — Garrettson attacked on the Highway — Caleb Boyer — Garrettson mobbed at Dover — Pioneering — He is cast into Prison — His Success

Young Watters was abroad, abundant in labors and patient in trials, during this troubled period. He went from the Philadelphia Conference of 1775 to the Frederick Circuit, Md. It extended over a region which might still be called the frontier. The roads were difficult, the settlements very scattered, the habitations mostly log-cabins, without conveniences for the sojourner. Watters went to proclaim his message through this wilderness, desponding often on his route, but he was refreshed at last by unexpected success. About midsummer a spiritual awakening appeared in almost every appointment of his circuit. He records that it was affecting to see how the people turned out, by day and by night, from their secluded homes with "earnest looks and many tears," inquiring "about the things of the kingdom." Every week he was cheered with conversions — several often at a single meeting. His own earnest spirit was kindled with the extending interest, and reconciled to all the labors and privations of his hard field. "I often preached, prayed, and exhorted," he says, "till I was so exhausted that I was scarcely able to stand. This flame not only spread among sinners, but among professors of religion also, and even reached my poor heart, so that I could not but bless and praise God's holy name that though I was deprived of many conveniences, yet he made all up unto me, and I was contented to sleep in cabins, to eat a dry morsel, and frequently to retire into the woods to read, to meditate, and pray. My Lord and Master had not on earth a place to lay his head, and shall not I be thankful for the meanest place? He was hated, spit upon, condemned, crucified; and shall such a worm as I look for anything better?"

The changes of preachers from circuit to circuit were still semi-annual. After six months unremitted labors, during which scores of converts were gathered into the Church, Watters departed for Fairfax Circuit, Va., where, notwithstanding the prevalent political and military agitations, his powerful ministrations bore down all before him over at least two thirds of his circuit, a flame of "revival kindling and spreading from appointment to appointment." "In less than a quarter," he writes, "we had the greatest revival I had ever seen in any place. If ever I was enabled to labor for the salvation of souls, it was now." There were some "very astonishing instances of the mighty power of God in the conversion of respectable persons;" among whom he mentions, as one of his trophies, Nelson Reed, destined to be a standard-bearer in the itinerant ministry. "So gloriously," he adds, "did the word of the Lord prevail, that though there was preaching but once in three weeks in the same place," he being the only preacher on the circuit, "yet in five or six months there were added to the Society upward of one hundred souls. Though wars and rumors of wars were all around us, we were permitted to dwell in peace, while every man sat under his own vine and under his own fig-tree, none daring to make him afraid."

The next year he brought from the Conference a fellow-laborer to this field, and enlarged it to a four-weeks' circuit. He extended his travels into Frederick and Berkeley Counties, breaking up new ground, and preaching with success where a Methodist itinerant had never been heard. "This tour," he says, "through different neighborhoods and among all sorts of people, was much blessed to my soul. I had many powerful seasons, and labored day and night, while the people came from all quarters to hear the words of eternal life." He seldom preached in any place without "seals to his ministry." On Berkeley Circuit especially, "the work increased a every hand." He closed the year among the cabins of Frederick Circuit, praying and studying in the woods, preaching in the barns, and rejoicing with "a simple hearted, loving people," "happy in being of one heart and one mind — with few disputes," and "few falling off — the most growing in grace."

The next year he set off from the Conference, in company with several preachers, for the noted Brunswick Circuit in Southern Virginia. His companions on the route were destined to different and difficult fields between the James and Roanoke Rivers. They rode forth with the consciousness of the responsibility and the sure success of apostles. "Their conversation was," he writes, "such as became the Gospel, edifying and strengthening, while most of us were entire strangers to all we met. We all appeared to breathe the same spirit, and I verily believe our sole desire, in leaving our little all, was that we might be instrumental, in the hands of God, in bringing lost sinners into the fold of Christ." On the route he heard McRoberts, the friend of Jarratt, preach a genuinely evangelical sermon. "It was the first example," he says, of such a discourse heard by him from a clergyman of the Church of England. McRoberts, impatient of the secular, not to say profane spirit of his clerical associates, subsequently left the Church and became a Presbyterian pastor, but never lost his evangelical zeal and usefulness. Jarratt's home was on Watters' circuit, and the zealous rector received the itinerant as a brother, beloved not only in the faith, but in its apostleship, esteeming him worthy of more than ordinary honor for the humility and hardships of his labors. "Weak, and hardly able to sit on my horse," writes Watters, "I at last came to the house of Mr. Jarratt, with whom I stayed a night, as I did every time I came round my circuit. His barn, well fitted up with seats and a pulpit, was one of our preaching places, and I found him very friendly and attentive to me while I stayed in these parts." It required six weeks, with almost daily preaching, to pass round the circuit. There were already large societies in almost every neighborhood, the fruits of the ministrations of Jarratt, Williams, Asbury, and other laborers. Watters had two colleagues, but he says his "hands were full."

He expected greater success than he realized on this lively circuit, but he records, "The Lord evidently owned us, in every neighborhood, both in and out of our Societies. We labored to the utmost of our abilities in the cause of our glorious Master, and daily found his service perfect freedom." The military troubles of the times reached the evangelists even in this remote region. At a Quarterly Meeting at Maybery's Chapel in the summer of 1777, attended by all the Circuit and many Local Preachers, as well as a large assembly of the people, they were interrupted by a magistrate as suspicious men from beyond the limits of the state. Watters, however, and one of his brethren, took the oath of allegiance, as proof of their loyalty, and the threatening storm passed away. "Our preaching," he says, "commenced immediately. The Lord was present and gave utterance, and the Word was as 'a hammer and fire, that break the rock in pieces.' The little seeming opposition roused the minds of some of our friends, and several appeared to possess a good degree of the spirit of martyrs. The God of Daniel was in our midst, and many, on both days of our meeting, shouted aloud the praises of our Immanuel. We parted filled with love, and more than ever determined to follow the Lord fully."

He spent some time on the Pittsylvania Circuit, and the next year traveled with remarkable success that of Sussex. While passing the second time around this circuit his word had unusual power — "the windows of heaven were opened, and the Lord poured out such a blessing as our hearts were not able to contain." Some of the rustic assemblies were overwhelmed with the truth. "We were so filled," he says on one occasion, "with the love of God, and overawed with his divine majesty, that we lay prostrate at his footstool, scarcely able to rise from our knees for a considerable time, while there were strong cries and tears from every part of the house for that perfect love which casteth out fear." Jarratt and the devoted Methodist itinerants had preached faithfully, in these parts of Virginia, Paul's doctrine of "perfection," John's doctrine of "perfect love;" and Watters records that he had never met before with so many living examples of it as in the societies of this circuit. He caught from them the same spirit. "O my God! when shall I awake with thy likeness, and be filled with thy fullness!" was his constant prayer. A new epoch here occurred in his personal history. He had been remarkable for his devotion, the transparent purity and simplicity of his religious life, and the benignity of his temper; but he had seen, especially by the aid of Wesley's Writings, that there were "deep things of God" which he had not fathomed, and he consecrated himself to an absolute devotion. In a little circle of praying friends, "I was," he says, "in an agony of prayer, and my heart was ready to burst with longing after the blessing, expecting every moment to hear the kind release, 'go in peace, sin no more.' My cry was incessant. 'Father, glorify thy name, pour out thy Spirit.' " Then "followed a deep and awful sense of the divine presence, an inward calm, which words cannot express. I was in my own eyes less than the least of God's people, and knew that all was of grace." But he dare not yet "confidently conclude" that his "soul was renewed in love." Subsequently he "found that it is by faith we stand in every state of grace," that sanctification, like justification, is by faith. Walking with a friend, they retired into a solitary place, and on their knees most "earnestly desired not to rise till every doubt were removed." There, in the calm solitude, he was "most graciously and powerfully blessed and filled with confidence and peace." Powerful as his earnest ministry had hitherto been, it now took a new tone; its energy, if more calm, was more effective. The "most glorious work" that ever he "had seen was on this circuit among believers. Scores professed to be sanctified to the Lord;" he "could not be satisfied without pressing upon Christians their privilege "in this respect, and he records that wherever "they were exhorted to go on to perfection the Word was blessed."

His next circuit was Fairfax,where, he says, the truth prevailed mightily, notwithstanding the war; he remarks, indeed, that this was generally the case throughout the country. "It is not more astonishing than true, that the work continued to spread in all those parts where we had preachers to labor, and I doubt whether, at any time before or since, it has been more genuine among us than during the war." This is an anomalous fact, but it has its explanation in that providential relation of the Methodistic movement to the national destiny which has already been discussed.

The sacramental controversy menaced the infant Church about this time with perilous if not fatal results. Watters, as we shall hereafter see, had important connections with that disturbance; he trembled for its probable consequences. Being the first and most prominent native itinerant, his influence among the disputants was unequaled, and he became the chief conciliator between the opposing parties. "I finally," he says, "came to the determination to endeavor, by every means in my power, to prevent a division; or, if that could not be done, to stand in the gap as long as possible." He was successful, and thus averted a disaster which might, at this early period in the history of the denomination, have proved ruinous.

In 1778 and 1779 he was on Baltimore Circuit. "I never," he writes, "traveled a circuit with more satisfaction." "There was a general movement and quickening among the members of the Societies. The ungodly, in many places, stood astonished, and could not but acknowledge that the arm of the Lord was revealed." Sanctification was now his almost habitual theme, and many were the witnesses of its power throughout his extensive field of labor. Years later he says: "Many, I am fully persuaded, to this day recollect those divine seasons with grateful hearts, and have ever since felt their happy effects."

Down to the end of 1783 William Watters continued to travel in Maryland and Virginia, with a zeal that knew no abatement and a success hardly excelled by any evangelist of the denomination — often in new circuits in mountainous regions, his lodgings in log-cabins, his chapels barns, his health broken so much that, three or four times, his brethren expected to bury him, a martyr to his work. He was one of the few itinerants who had families. In1783 he was compelled to locate, but he still labored indefatigably, one of his regular appointments being at least forty miles distant from his home; another, thirty. "I have never," he wrote, "since I knew the Lord, seen anything in this world worth living for an hour, but to prepare, and assist others to prepare, for that glorious kingdom which shall be revealed at the appearing of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." Not only many, but most of the itinerants of those early times had, sooner or later, to locate, on account of their worn-out health or domestic embarrassments; but they continued to perform more laborious service in the ministry than most of their itinerant successors, and the early outspread of Methodism through the land is scarcely less attributable to their zeal than to that of the "regular" Preachers. Hardly had Watters located when he was cheered by news of the arrival of Coke, with authority from Wesley to organize the Church. The first native itinerant, he had served faithfully through most of the forming period of the young denomination: he was now to see it take organic and permanent form; he will reappear on the scene, contributing important aid to the new development which was about to attend the cause for which he had labored and suffered so much.

It was in our present period that Freeborn Garrettson began that memorable ministerial career, which was to extend over more than half a century, and to leave historical and ineffaceable traces on the Church, from Carolina to Nova Scotia. He was of an influential family of Maryland, a descendant of the first settlers of that province; the possessor of lands and slaves; a young man of firm but amiable character, and of strict early education by parents who were faithful members of the English Church. Before he was ten years old he was inclined to religious meditation, "feeling that he needed something" which he had never yet attained, but "knew not what it was," for he "had no one to take him by the hand and lead him into the narrow path." The "Spirit often strove with him," and "melted him into tenderness;" but none around him, not even his parish pastor, appeared competent to solve the problems of his anxious conscience, or teach him the true nature of religion. Strawbridge, as we have seen, was abroad in Maryland, and Garrettson met him and other itinerants. Their message was, at first, a mystery to him; yet he believed "they preached the truth," and he "dared not to join with the multitude in persecuting them."

All Methodists, laymen as well as preachers, were "witnesses" for the truth in those times. "One day, as I was riding home," says Garrettson, "I met a young man who had been hearing the Methodists, and had got his heart touched under the word. He stopped me in the road, and began to talk so sweetly about Jesus and his people, and recommended him to me in such a winning manner, that I was deeply convinced there was a reality in that religion, and that it was time for me to think seriously on the subject." He now betook himself to good books, lived a retired life, "read, prayed, wept till after midnight," and often withdrew to the woods for prayer and meditation. Asbury passed through the neighborhood, and the awakened youth heard him with delight, following him from place to place, "fully persuaded that he was a servant of God," and surprised to hear him preach in a manner that seemed to imply a knowledge of the inmost troubles of his own soul. Watters, Webster, Rollins, and other evangelists crossed his path; "revivals" broke out; persecutions followed. Garrettson's father became alarmed for him, and the young man's "name was already cast out as evil," though he had made no open avowal of Methodism. He attempted to satisfy his conscience by living a "respectable" life, "bending his mind to the improvement of his property, and serving God in a private manner." He now attended the parish church regularly, fasted once a week, prayed in secret, rebuked profanity among his neighbors. "I was so fast set in my way," he says, "that I thought I should certainly go to heaven; and if at any time overtaken in sin I would endeavor to mend my pace, and pray more frequently." But he had to admit that "often," especially under Methodist preaching, his "foundation would shake." George Shadford's powerful ministration shook it thoroughly. A Methodist exhorter, casually conversing with him, shattered it. Under the preaching of Daniel Ruff, he was "so oppressed that he could scarcely support his burden;" and riding homeward through a lonely wood, agonized by the sense of his sinfulness, and of the necessity of regeneration, he dismounted and began to pray. But his prayer was for forbearance that he might yet delay till a more convenient season. Resuming his ride, he was again arrested with an overpowering consciousness that "now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation." "I threw," he says, "the reins of my bridle on the horse's neck, and, putting my hands together, cried out, 'Lord, I submit!' I was less than nothing in my own sight, and was now, for the first time, reconciled to the justice of God. The enmity of my heart was slain, the plan of salvation was open to me. I saw a beauty in the perfections of the Deity, and felt that power of faith and love that I had been a stranger to. My soul was so exceeding happy that I seemed as if I wanted to take wing and fly away to heaven."

On reaching home he called his family together for prayer, and not many days after, while about to lead their devotions, he gave one of the best proofs of the genuineness of his new faith. He declared to all his slaves their freedom, convinced that "it is not right — to keep our fellow creatures in bondage." "Till then" he adds, "I had never suspected that slave-keeping is wrong; I had never read a book on the subject, nor been told so by any one. It was God, not man, that taught me the impropriety of holding slaves, and I shall never be able to praise him enough for it. My very heart has bled since that time for slave-holders, especially those who make a profession of religion; for I believe it to be a crying sin." It was while standing in the midst of his family and slaves, with a hymn book in his hand, beginning their family worship, that he pronounced his servants free. They all knelt before their common God as his common children. The devout young man, following thus a conscientious intuition of his purified mind, experienced at once the inexpressible consolation of such well-doing; "a divine sweetness," he says, "ran through my whole frame." "Had I the tongue of an angel I could not describe what I felt."

And now, like most Methodists of that day, he "went about doing good," with no definite idea of preaching, but "bearing his testimony" for what God had done for him. At the first house he visited its head was enraged and repelled him; "but," he says, "the Lord gave me one or two of his children;" at the second the "master was brought to cry on his knees for mercy before the Lord." The third was nearly twenty miles distant, but he reached it before night, and related his "experience;" "After prayer," he writes, "the neighbors were called in; I was obliged, for the first time, to open my mouth by way of exhortation; and the Lord filled it, and sent his arrows to the hearts of three sinners, one of whom slept very little that night, and another followed me nearly sixteen miles the next day."

He held meetings at his own house, at that of his brother, and at others; he thus became an Exhorter even before he had formally joined the Church. He formed classes. Rodda took him at last out upon his circuit, and he thus undesignedly became a preacher.

Alarmed at the responsibility of his new labors, and reluctant to become an itinerant, he mounted his horse to escape fifty miles to his home. A pious man met him on his way, and warned him to turn back; he went on, however, but at home opportunities of religious labor continually multiplied around him; he held meetings, exhorted, was attacked by ruffians, smitten on the face, mobbed, and summoned to drill as a soldier. When called before a military officer he told his "experience," and sat on his horse "exhorting with tears" a thousand people; the court marshal dismissed him with a fine of twelve dollars and a half a year, but he was never called upon to pay it. He soon had appointments in every direction. Daniel Ruff called him out to a circuit. He went, never again to turn back. Thus began, in the year of his conversion, his ministerial life. Leaving Ruff, he went out to form a new circuit. "I was wandering along," he says, "in search of an opening for the word, in deep thought and prayer, that my way might be prosperous." When opposite a gate he received "a sudden impression; 'turn in, this is the place where you are to begin.' " The master of the house was an officer of rank, and, it being muster day, marched his troops to the front of the house to hear the Itinerant; "many tears were shed, and several of them were converted, one of whom has since become a preacher." The latter was the son of the officer, a youth of thirteen years, who afterward became one of the most able and eminent champions of the denomination. [1]

At the Conference of 1776 Garrettson was received on trial, and appointed to Frederick Circuit. Three different times he turned his horse toward his home, from his new field, desponding under his diffidence and the hardships of his work; but prayer in the solitary woods, extraordinary impressions of his discourses awakening his hearers, or providential impediments, deterred him, and at last confirmed him in his lifelong mission of labor and sacrifice. A score were sometimes converted and added to the feeble Societies of the circuit at a single meeting. In six months he went to Fairfax Circuit. He extended his travels far up the Potomac to what was called New Virginia, where his labors were greatly successful. "Glory to God!" he wrote many years later, "he enabled me to travel largely through that country, to preach one, two, three, and sometimes four sermons a day. The last sermon I preached there was a time not soon to be forgotten. A large congregation seemed to drink in every word; so much of the divine presence was felt that I continued nearly three hours, and then the people hung around me in such manner that I could scarcely get from them, begging me with tears not to leave them."

He was sent, the next year, to the famous Brunswick Circuit, with Watters; there of course he had triumphant times, large congregations, overwhelming effects of the word, meetings held in barns, or under the trees, which reminded him of the Pentecostal assembly of the Apostles. He penetrated southward into North Carolina. He failed not to inculcate his opinions of slavery, and preached often to the slaves, weeping with them in their wrongs, rejoicing with them in their spiritual consolations. He was menaced by persecutors, interrupted sometimes in his sermons, threatened by armed men, and one of his friends was shot (but not mortally) for entertaining him; "but," he says, "the consolations afforded me were an ample compensation for all the difficulties I met with wandering up and down." It was amid these scenes that, like his colleague Watters, he attained the higher experience of that "perfect love which casts out fear."

His next circuit was Kent, Md., where he was exposed to those political and military hostilities which, as we have seen, prevailed against the Methodists, chiefly from the imprudence of Rodda and the treason of Clowe. One of his colleagues, Hartley, was imprisoned, the others were dispersed, and he was left alone to bear the brunt of the persecution. Hartley, a Virginian, after preaching six months, had been received by the Conference in 1776, and sent to Kent Circuit; he subsequently labored in Baltimore, and in 1777 returned to Kent, where, in 1778, he was seized and imprisoned in Talbot jail; but he continued to preach through the windows of his prison. The people gathered to hear him from ten and fifteen miles around; many were converted by his word, and his enemies were happy at last to get rid of him by allowing him to resume his travels. Soon after, the magistrate who had committed him was seized with fatal sickness, and sending for him, said: "When I sent you to jail I was fighting against God, and now I am about to leave the world; pray for me!" His family were called in, and he declared to his wife, "This is a servant of God; when I die, I request he may preach at my funeral. You need not think I have not my senses; this is the true faith." He then gave Hartley charge of his family, and desired them to embrace Methodism as true Christianity. [2]

"God enabled me to go forward," writes Garrettson, "through good and through evil report; he stood by me, and I went on without fear." His friends in Kent entreated him not to hazard his life by traveling at large, but he "traveled through the country preaching once, twice, thrice, and sometimes four sermons a day to listening multitudes bathed in tears." "I shall not soon forget," he adds, "the 24th of June, 1778. O what a wringing of hands among sinners, and crying for mercy! God's people praising him from a sense of his divine presence. O how did my heart rejoice in God my Saviour! I went through Cecil County, and part of Delaware State. A precious flame was kindled in many hearts, and many were brought to inquire what they should do to be saved. I visited Mr. Asbury, at Judge White's, and found him very unwell. I had a sweet opportunity of preaching at his place of confinement. After some agreeable conversation with him I went on to Maryland, and had much liberty in preaching to our persecuted friends in Queen Anne."

The next day he was near receiving the honors of martyrdom. Being unmolested in the congregation he deemed himself safe, notwithstanding he had been threatened privately with imprisonment. But on riding away he was met by an opposer, formerly a judge of the county, who struck him on the head with a bludgeon. The itinerant attempted to escape, but was overtaken by the swifter horse of his assailant, and, struck again, fell senseless to the ground. He was carried to a neighboring house and bled by a person, who passing by, providentially had a lancet. It was supposed he could live but a few minutes; "the heavens," he writes, "seemed in a very glorious manner opened, and by faith I saw my Redeemer standing on the right hand of the Father pleading my cause. I was so happy that I could scarcely contain myself." The ruffian who assailed him seemed to relent, and sat by his bedside listening to his exhortations, and offered to carry him in his own carriage wherever he wished to go. The itinerant was cited, however, before a magistrate, who boisterously charged him with violating the laws. "Be assured," replied Garrettson, "this matter will be brought to light in an awful eternity." The pen dropped from the magistrate's hand, and the preacher was allowed to retire. Taken into a carriage by the friendly passenger who had bled him, he was safely borne away, and that night was again preaching in a private house, though his bed was his pulpit. He suffered very little opposition in the county afterward. The next day he rode many miles and preached twice, his "face bruised, scarred, and bedewed with tears;" his hearers were deeply affected, and his own soul was triumphant with grateful joy that he could suffer for Christ. "It seemed," he writes, "as if I could have died for him." In a few days he returned courageously to the place of his sufferings, and preached to a numerous and deeply affected concourse of people. He had conquered the field. [3]

He afterward traversed the State of Delaware, preaching with remarkable power. Again he returned to Maryland, "and the work of the Lord went on prosperously." He founded societies, introduced Methodism into many new fields, and such was the peculiar energy and pathos with which he preached, that his journal is almost a continuous record of "melted congregations," "powerful awakenings," (in which not a few hearers were smitten down to the ground,) conquered opposers, and prolonged meetings, from which the eager multitude could hardly be persuaded to retire. He was the first Methodist preacher who visited Kent Island, and laid the foundation of the denomination there. In Mispillian he preached under a venerable tree, which is still standing, and some of his converts there afterward founded the Society of Barratt's Chapel. Caleb Boyer was awakened under one of these sermons, and became "a great preacher among the Methodists," [4] "the St. Paul" of the denomination, distinguished by the acumen and force of his argumentative defense of the Gospel. Garrettson preached at Boyer's father's house, and formed there a Society in 1778, which is still represented at Banning's Chapel, below Dover.

He began his labors in Dover amid a storm of opposition in the latter part of 1778. He had been invited thither by a gentleman who had been profited by his ministry elsewhere. Hardly had he dismounted from his horse when the mob gathered, crying out, "He is a Tory; he is one of Clowe's men; hang him, hang him;" while others shouted in his defense. Hundreds of clamorous voices resounded around him. "I was in a fair way," he says, "to be torn in pieces." He was rescued, however, by some friendly gentlemen, one of whom, taking him by the hand and leading him to the steps of the academy, bade him preach, and declared he would stand by him. The evangelist cried aloud to the multitude. He was heard through most of the town. The crowd wept. One person sitting in a window, a quarter of a mile distant, was alarmed by the truth, and afterward converted. More than twenty of his hearers were awakened. The ringleader of the mob repented and betook himself to the reading of the Bible, and "never again persecuted the children of God." Garrettson preached repeatedly in the town, formed a Society, and "the Lord was with them, spreading his word and converting many souls." Dr. McGaw, the English clergyman of Dover, now took side with the Methodists and promoted their success. "The prejudices of the people began to fall way amazingly," says the itinerant, "and hundreds were enabled to rejoice in the kingdom of grace."

He went into Sussex County, and at Broad Creek preached to hundreds in a wood. They were a notoriously vicious people: "swearers, fighters, drunkards, horse-racers, gamblers, and dancers." They now wept around him, as he declared, "I saw the dead, both small and great, stand before God," etc. More than thirty "were powerfully awakened," all of whom were joined in a Society. One of his hearers afterward attempted to shoot him, coming into the audience with a pistol for the purpose, but was prevented. The whole neighborhood was reformed, and Methodism effectually planted there. A hearer from Salisbury was converted, and opened he way for his preaching in that town. Garrettson was threatened by leading townsmen with imprisonment. The sheriff came to seize him, but was confounded and left him. Methodism was thus founded in Salisbury. While preaching at Broad Creek, an aged and devout couple who had heard Whitefield, heard him and invited him to their house at Quantico. "Many years ago," they said to him, "we heard Mr. Whitefield preach; and until we heard you, we had not heard a Gospel sermon for twenty years. The first time we heard you preach we knew it was the truth; but we only had a little spark left. Yesterday we heard you again, and the little spark was blown up to a coal; and, glory to God! today the coal is blown up to a flame. We cannot hide ourselves any longer from you; our house and hearts are open to receive you and the blessed word you preach." He went, and a Society was formed, with the venerable couple at its head, [5] the first Methodist Church in Somerset County, Md. A chapel was soon erected.

In April, "I was led," he says, "still further into the wilderness." It was his delight to pioneer the Gospel into new and desolate places. "Although in those new places I had none," he writes, "to converse with, at first, who knew the Lord, yet Jesus was blessed company to me in my retirement. Often the wilderness was my closet, where I had many sweet hours in communion with God." We next trace him to "a place called the Sound, near the seashore, in the region of Cypress Swamp, Sussex County, Del." "The work of the Lord broke out there," he says; "the people wept on every side, and after three hours' service they seemed fixed to the spot." Many walked ten or twelve miles to hear him. He soon formed a Society of thirty converts. He encountered some opposition here also. A hostile interloper interrupted his sermon to discuss his theology, but became convinced of his own ignorance, and asked pardon of the preacher for the disturbance. "Being a man of some note, it proved a blessing to the people." An influential citizen set up a "reading meeting" in opposition to the itinerant, but "the power of God reached his heart, so that he gave it up and joined the Society." The Churchmen of the region sent for one of their distant clergymen to come and preach down the new excitement. He arrived, preached once, and then meeting with Garrettson on the highway, was soon convinced that he was fighting against God, and went home, determined never again to oppose the Methodists. The influence of Methodism was most beneficent in all this destitute region of Cypress Swamp. The people had been incredibly demoralized. Garrettson met with many who knew not the most elementary truths of religion Accosting one of them, he asked him if he "knew the Lord Jesus Christ " "Sir," was the reply, "I know not where the gentleman lives." Supposing he was misunderstood, Garrettson repeated the question, and was answered, "I know not the man." The best Methodist chronicler of these regions says that in some parts of the Peninsula the people had no religion whatever. [6] Garrettson, in a later note to his Journal, alludes to the great improvement of all this part of the country by the introduction of Methodism. "When he first went among them, the people, their land and houses, with but few exceptions, were poor. What was worst. of all, they were destitute of even the form of godliness. Many of them preferred fishing and hunting to cultivating the land. After the Gospel came among them religion spread rapidly, and they became industrious and happy; left off gambling, tilled their land, built houses, and attended to their spiritual interests, so that he says, 'After a few years, in retracing my footsteps in this country, I found that my younger brethren in the ministry who had succeeded me had been blessed in their labors, and everything appeared to wear a different aspect. Experience had taught many that there is nothing like the Gospel in its purity to meliorate both the temporal and spiritual condition of man; and my prayer is that it may find its way throughout the whole world to the destruction of idolatry and infidelity.' " The Peninsula became a "garden of Methodism." Garrettson's congregations, under the trees, were a thousand and even fifteen hundred strong. His pathetic eloquence and genial spirit, his tact and unction swayed the whole region. "Glory to God!" he exclaims, "I preached in a variety of places through this wilderness, and many were convinced and brought to the knowledge of the truth. They built a church, and the Lord raised up several able speakers among them. There was an amazing change both in the disposition and manners of the people. The wilderness and solitary places began to bud and blossom as the rose, and many hearts did leap for joy. Hundreds who were asleep in the arms of the wicked one awoke, and were inquiring the way to Zion with their faces thitherward."

He was soon away to other parts of Delaware, almost invariably encountering hostility at first, but always conquering it. In one place thirty persons were awakened, and were following him to his next appointment, when an enraged persecutor attacked him and presented a musket to his breast, but was overpowered by his friends; the assailant was soon after a weeping penitent, and joined the Methodists. He returned to Salisbury to learn that a mob awaited him to send him to jail. It consisted of the first people of the county. The previous night they had attacked the house where he usually lodged, and not finding him, seized its head and dragged him down the chamber stairs, and along the streets, injuring him so seriously that he would probably have perished had not a magistrate rescued him. Garrettson's brethren insisted on his immediate departure. "I have come," he replied, "to preach my Master's Gospel, and I am not afraid to trust him with body and soul. Many came out to hear me; I understood that the mob sent one of their company to give information of the most convenient time to take me. While I was declaring, 'The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptation, and reserve the unjust unto the day of judgment to be punished,' the heart of the spy, who sat close by me, was touched, and the tears ran plentifully down his face. After service he returned to his company, and told them I had preached the truth, and if they laid a hand on me he would put the law in force against them. They withdrew to their homes without making the slightest attempt upon me. O who would not confide in so good a God! After our blessed meeting was over, I rode three miles and had a pleasant time with a few of my friends. Glory be to God! he is carrying on a gracious work about this place. All this week I spent in preaching and visiting the young Societies."

He now projected an "inroad" into a neglected part of Delaware, whither he had never gone, and where the demoralization, the simplicity, and the rudeness of the rustic population presented not a few difficulties as well as incentives to his mission. Much of the population had few if any just ideas of religion. The preaching of the times had failed to instruct them, and Methodism was like a new Gospel to them. Their boisterous vices found, at first, amusement in its services, but their simple minds soon awoke under its illumination. Many were the odd rencounters of the itinerant in this tour; illustrations at once of the moral condition of the times, and the power of the truth when proclaimed with plainness and courage. "I had appointed," he writes, "a friend, who had given me an invitation to Lewistown, to meet me and conduct me through the country, so that numbers had knowledge of my intention to pass that way. All along the road many were standing at their doors and windows gazing, and I could hear some of them say as I passed, 'There he is;' 'O he is like any other man.' I rode about thirty miles, and got to my appointment about three; about four o'clock I began, and, shortly after I gave out the text, the brother of the man in whose house I was to preach came to the door with a gun and a drum, and several other implements, and after beating his old drum a while, he took the gun, and was dodging about as though he was taking aim to shoot me. This greatly terrified the women, so that there was nothing but confusion. I then stopped and withdrew to a private room. Soon after, the town squire and several other magistrates came, and among the rest a minister. The squire commanded him to depart immediately to his own house or behave himself; otherwise he would send him to jail. We now had peace, and I found great freedom to finish my sermon. I have no doubt but the Lord began this work. The minister told some of the people afterward that I held out nineteen errors. The squire told me the courthouse was at my service, and I should be welcome to his house. Wednesday my enemy, set on by a few others, came into the courthouse while I was preaching, not with a gun and drum, but with fire, which he put in the chimney, and then began to heap on wood, though the day was exceedingly warm: finding that this did not disturb me, be brought in a bell and rang it loudly through the house. I stopped, and inquired if any would open a large private room. Many were offered, and I withdrew and finished my sermon at the house of a kind widow woman. In spite of a the opposition, the word found way to the hearts of the hearers; and though severely tempted of the devil, and persecuted by many of his servants, my heart was with the Lord, and many were the sweet moments I had in secret."

He kept his ground, and on the next Sabbath preached to a crowd in the courthouse; but the bell over his bead was rung violently to announce service at the neighboring church, where he was lustily assailed by the preacher; "but," he writes, "the more they preached and spoke against me, the more earnestly did the people search their Bibles to know whether these things were so." "I had," he continues, "an appointment a few miles from the town by the side of a river, and some declared that if I went there they would drown me. I went and found a large concourse of people, and preached with much freedom, but no man assaulted me. I had five miles to my afternoon's appointment, and when I had got two miles on my way I looked behind and saw a man dressed like a soldier, riding full speed, with a great club in his hand. I now found it necessary to exercise my faith. When he came up to me he reached out his hand, saying, 'Mr. Garrettson, how do you do? I heard you preach, and believe your doctrine to be true. I heard you was to be abused at the river today, and I equipped myself as you see me, and have rode twenty miles in your defense, and will go with you if it is a thousand miles, and see who dare lay a hand upon you." Friend, said I, the Scripture tells us that vengeance belongs to God, and not to man. 'Very true, sir,' said he, 'but I think I should be justifiable in so glorious a cause.' " The honest man found no occasion to use his bludgeon; the itinerant had more effectual weapons. He won the victory, and went on his way prevailing everywhere. "I traveled and preached all through the forest," he says, "and the Lord enlarged my heart, and gave me many precious souls, for numbers were brought to inquire after religion."

After spending some fifteen months on the Peninsula, at the end of which nearly thirteen hundred members of Society were returned to the Conference from Delaware and Kent County, Garrettson passed northward. He had remained so long in Delaware and Maryland in order to supply the place of Asbury, who was still in confinement at the mansion of Judge White. In 1780 he was appointed, with two colleagues, to New Jersey. He there preached from ten to twelve sermons a week. "I bless God," he wrote, "for the prosperous journey he gave me." In the autumn we find him again on the Peninsula founding the denomination in Dorchester County. A young lady of the county, sister-in-law to Bassett, of Bohemia Manor, had been converted while visiting his family, and on her return had borne good and effectual testimony, for her new faith, among her kindred. Henry Airey, a gentleman of influence and a magistrate, was awakened by her conversation, and further led into a religious life by his friend Judge White. The way was thus opened for the establishment of Methodism in the county. Garrettson visited Airey's home and preached with great effect. The lady of the house and many of the black servants were converted. After spending several days with them he resumed his journey, accompanied by Airey, but was attacked on the highway by a mob, who beat his horse, and clamorously assailed him with blasphemies. After dark they bore him before a magistrate, who ordered him to prison. Airey and some of his friends started on before toward the jail. As his assailants were conducting Garrettson along the highway, a sudden flash of lightning dispersed them and he was left alone. "I was reminded," he says, "of that place of Scripture where our Lord's enemies fell to the ground, and then this portion of Scripture came to me, 'Stand still and see the salvation of God.' It was a very dark, cloudy night, and had rained a little. I sat on my horse alone, and though I called several times there was no answer. I went on, but had not got far before I met my friend Airey returning to look for me. He had accompanied me throughout the whole of this affair. We rode on, talking of the goodness of God, till we came to a little cottage by the roadside, where we found two of my guards almost frightened out of their wits. I told them if I was to go to jail that night we ought to be on our way, for it was getting late. 'O no!' said one of them, 'let us stay until the morning.' My friend and I rode on, and it was not long ere we had a beautiful clear night. We had not gone far before the company collected again, from whence I know not. However they appeared to be amazingly intimidated, and the leader rode by the side of me, and said, 'Sir, do you think the affair happened on our account?' I told him that I would have him judge for himself; reminding him of the awfulness of the day of judgment, and the necessity there was of preparing to meet the Judge of the whole earth. One of the company swore an oath, and another immediately reproved him, saying, 'How can you swear at such a time as this?' At length the company stopped, and one said, 'We had better give him up for he present;' so they turned their horses and went back. My friend and I pursued our way. True it is, 'The wicked are like the troubled sea, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.' We had not gone far before they pursued us again, and said, 'We cannot give him up.' They accompanied us a few minutes, again left us, and we saw no more of them that night." The next day, Sunday, they reappeared, twenty in number, headed by an aged man "with locks as white as a sheet," and a pistol in his hand. They seized the evangelist while preaching. He was borne away to Cambridge jail, where, during a fortnight, "I had," he says, "a dirty floor for my bed, my saddle-bags for my pillow, and two large windows open, with a cold east wind blowing upon me; but I had great consolation in my Lord, and could say, 'Thy will be done.' During my confinement here I was much drawn out in prayer, reading, writing, and meditation. The Lord was remarkably good to me, so that I experienced a prison to be like a paradise; and I had a heart to pray for my worst enemies. My soul was so exceedingly happy I scarcely knew how many days and nights passed away. The Bible was never sweeter to me. I never had a greater love to God's dear children. I never saw myself more unworthy. I never saw a greater beauty in the cross of Christ; for I thought I could, if required, go cheerfully to the stake in so good a cause. Sweet moments I had with my dear friends, who came to the prison window. Many, both acquaintances and strangers, came to visit me from far and near, and I really believe I never was the means of doing more good for the time; for the country seemed to be much alarmed, and the Methodists among whom I had labored, to whom I had written many epistles, were much stirred up to pray for me. The word of the Lord spread through that country, and hundreds both white and black have experienced the love of Jesus. Since that time I have preached to more than three thousand people in one congregation, not far from the place where I was imprisoned, and many of my worst enemies have bowed to the scepter of our sovereign Lord." In fine, this county presented, at first, the most formidable resistance to Methodism of any in the state, but was the most completely conquered. After about two years' labors, it reported nearly eight hundred Methodists; "and," says a late authority, "Methodism has long been honored here; there are but few professors of religion that belong to any other than the Methodist Episcopal Church." [7]

In 1780 Garrettson labored on Baltimore Circuit with his usual success. In the same year he made an excursion to Little York in Pennsylvania, and there, amid a mixed population of Germans and English, with a greater variety of religious sects than he had ever found elsewhere, and no small amount of disputation and hostility, he preached for two months, with extraordinary results, in more than twenty places, and more than three hundred people were awakened. The next year he was sent into Virginia, where Jarratt received him cordially. The country was ravaged with war; the army of Cornwallis had entered it; and the sacramental controversy, among the Methodists, added not a little to the disturbance of the Churches. Garrettson preached within the sound of the guns of Yorktown. At Maybery's Chapel he addressed two thousand people, not forgetting to remonstrate with them about slavery; he formed new circuits, hastened about among the old circuits, and, wherever he went, spread a quickening sensation among the suffering Societies. In 1781 he traveled about five thousand miles, preached about five hundred sermons, visited most of the circuits in Virginia and North Carolina, and opened one new circuit, "in which the Lord began a blessed work, so that many, both rich and poor, joined the Society."

During the remainder of our present period he traveled and preached incessantly in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Delaware, and found the Churches prospering in the hard-fought fields which he had won, through so many persecutions, within the preceding six or eight years. At Dover, the scene of one of his severest trials, he rejoiced, in 1783 over a successful Church, Bassett and his family being now among its chief supporters. "Surely," he wrote, "God is among this people. The last Sabbath I preached here the Lord in mercy laid his hand upon one of the greatest persecutors in the town. Finding no rest, he cried mightily to God, and both he and his wife were converted, and his brother's wife; they are now happy in religion, going on hand in hand with the brethren; and he is resolutely determined on building a brick chapel. Shall we not give the glory to God, who can change the hearts of lion-like men and women in so short a time? God has done and is doing great things for the people in this town. I visited Mrs. Bassett, who has been a long time under the afflicting hand of divine Providence. I think her one of the happiest women I have met with. I believe her to be a living witness of sanctification; her soul seems to be continually wrapped in a flame of love. Several of this family are happy in the love of God; four of whom enjoy that degree of it which casts out fear. Surely God has a Church in this house."

In the autumn of 1783 he was about to depart to the Carolinas, determined to push the triumphs of the Gospel to the furthest South; but he was suddenly arrested by the news of Coke's arrival, and the important events which were immediately to follow. Coke soon reached him, at the house of Bassett, in Dover, and says: "here I met with an excellent young man, Freeborn Garrettson. He seems to be all meekness and love, and yet all activity. He makes me quite ashamed, for he invariably rises at four in the morning, and not only he, but several others of the preachers. Him we sent off like an arrow, from north to south, directing him to send messengers to the right and left, and to gather all the preachers together at Baltimore on Christmas eve." [8]

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ENDNOTES

1 He was the Rev. Ezekiel Cooper.

2 Garrettson's Life, p. 102. In a note Garrettson says that Hartley was "a dear good man, and an excellent preacher. The rulers laid hands on him and confined him in Talbot jail; but he preached powerfully through the window. The blessed God owned his word, and he was instrumental in raising a large Society. He was confined a long time, till finally they thought he might as well preach without as within jail. Shortly after he was set at liberty he married a pious young lady and located. He did not live many years, but while he did live he was very useful, and adorned his Christian and ministerial character, He died in the Lord, and went to glory."

3 In 1809 Mr. Garrettson was visiting his old friends in this region, when a near relation of Mr. B., who beat him, was the principal vestryman in the Episcopal Church; and to make some atonement for the treatment he received in 1778, an almost unheard-of favor for that country was conferred upon him, in an invitation to preach in the old church at Church Hill. He accepted the invitation, and seldom, if ever before, was the church so crowded with Church folks and Methodists, white and black; and it was a moving time. A similar favor was extended to Dr. Coke in 1784, who preached in this church by invitation of the vestry. Lednum, p. 215.

4 Lednum.

5 Their name was Ryder. "There have been many valuable Methodists of the Ryder family about Quantico and Salisbury," says Lednum, p. 219.

6 Lednum, p. 227.

7 Lednum, p. 253.

8 Coke's Journals, pp. 15, 16.

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