Chapter 45
Section 45 of Journal of the Reverend Francis Asbury, Volume 3. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Brian Keenan. Saturday, December 3. I preached in Thompson's Chapel.
The Lord was present. We collected the official brethren into the schoolhouse, where I gave them a talk on the doctrines and discipline of our church. Sabbath 4. I preached at Thompson's Chapel.
Monday rode from J. Alston's to J. Mark's, Elbert County. Tuesday I preached in the chapel. Widow Gilmore received us under her roof for the night. Wednesday we reached prospect, and I preached. The speaker's mind is too strong for his body.
It was a sacramental day. Thursday resting at Archibald Pope's. The weather has occasioned me much suffering, notwithstanding the great kindness and the good dinners of our friends, and the convenience of my covered cradle upon wheels.
Friday 9. I preached at Bethlehem to about three hundred souls. The house was unfinished and damp and cold, lodged at the house of the widow of Henry Pope. By letter from John Early, we have great accounts of the work of God at camp meetings in Amelia and Prince Edward. Saturday came to Athens, accompanied by Hope Hall. Sabbath 11. Preached in the college chapel. The people were very
attentive in that open penance house. The state of things is strangely changed, since Dr. Brown has had the presidency. He is a man of piety and order, and will render unto all their due. Monday to Joseph Floyd's on Appalachie. Tuesday I preached at J. Floyd's house. The people appeared somewhat like the preacher, sickly and slender. I ordained Samuel Patallo, a deacon, and baptized three children. The lands here are good, but the price paid for quiet
possession has been great. Sickness, deaths, and murders by Indians. Wednesday 14. Road twenty miles to N. Ware's. When I see Mother Stewart's children, I rejoice. Holy woman, thou didst not believe, and live, and weep, and pray, and die in vain, neither for thyself, nor for thy children, nor thy children's children. Verily there is a reward for the righteous. Thursday 15. To Thomas Scotts
A brand re-plucked from the burning Friday, 16 At the new chapel, called after me, I preached, and hoped the word of truth was not lost. Lodged at John Turner's Saturday at Brother Holt's
Sabbath, 18 Great Rain Every post, almost, is a messenger of the tidings which ought to make me serious. John M. Klasky is no more. He was a native of Ireland, born in Londonderry.
A man of strong mind. a plain but useful preacher, and labored with us about thirty years. Mother Kent is dead, forty years a subject of grace. My aged friends, Henry and Kizia Moss, have gone to their reward, but they leave me their daughter Freeman to receive me. I trust she will fill her parents' place here, and follow them as they followed Christ. Henry Boehm sends me great accounts
of the work of God at camp meetings. Wednesday 21. Our conference began and continued until the 27th. There were nearly one hundred characters examined, and six admitted upon trial. Twelve are located. Ten elders have been ordained, and twenty-two deacons. Eighty-two preachers have been stationed. None are dead, and none have been expelled. I preached at the ordinations, but with so feeble a voice that many did not hear.
I had coughed much, and expectorated blood. We had great peace, union, and love in our session. Wednesday we rode to Sparta in the afternoon. Thursday we had crowded lodging, and I passed a painful night. Friday to Sweetwater. Saturday to Augusta. Sunday, January 1, 1815. I preached at Satterman's house. Monday dined at M. Cleary's and came on to Eubanks. Tuesday to Buttons. Oh that God may bless my last labors in this family. Wednesday to Coker's. Thursday to Captain
Perry's. Friday we had a cold, hungry ride of thirty-six miles. Saturday, busy writing. Sabbath 8. I spoke in much feebleness upon part of Psalm 37, and gave a charge to the society. My labors were followed with much coughing and a restless night. Monday I bled in the arm to relieve the spitting of blood. This place calls for great labor, and I am not fit for it. I must go hence. Tuesday I filled an appointment made for me in Bethel Chapel. I was divinely assisted.
The care of the societies comes with weight upon my mind. Here are liberal souls at home and abroad. We have added nearly two hundred dollars to our mite subscription. Thursday came to Strawberry Fairy. Grand accommodations at Mr. Lysane's. Friday to Hales. We had an appointment here which we knew not of. The people assembled, and I spoke to them. Saturday came to Santee, and crossed the long ferry in fifty minutes. Away with the false cant, that the better you use the
negroes, the worse they will use you. Make them good, then. Teach them the fear of God, and learn to fear him yourselves, ye masters. I understand not the doctrine of cruelty. As soon as the poor Africans see me, they spring with life to the boat, and make a heavy flat skim along like a light canoe. Poor, starved souls. God will judge. Sabbath 15. A sacramental day. I preached and gave a word of exhortation to the society.
I cannot preach more than once a day. I wrote two letters, having no other leisure to do it in. South Carolina, Monday 16. A great storm without. I glanced at Eckerd. I find history of the Jews and the Romans, and very little of the pure church. We have presided in three conferences in seven months. We had planned a ride of 1,300 miles into Virginia Conference, but Providence forbade it by affliction. Tuesday, 17. We started away in company with W.M. Kennedy
and I. Norton, with the last of whom we parted at the ferry over Black River. Lodged with Mr. Rogers. His father has gone to rest. On our route we visited Bethel Durant, and saw his brethren, John and Henry. Their simple-hearted, kind father entertained me thirty years ago on my returning from my visit to Charleston. Wednesday, 18. Crossed the lakes and Whackamaw, and got in after eight o'clock to Brother Frink's. At William Goose's, I saw my
kind mothers in Israel, Goose and Rogers. I continue to expectorate blood. Is it possible that the children of the French Protestant martyrs to the tyranny of Louis XIV, and his bloody priesthood, can ever forget the God of their fathers. Noble, holy men, may God gather in your children to the latest generations. Friday 20. A dash of rain stopped us a while, but we went forward thirty miles to Wilmington. I feel the effect of the damps.
North Carolina, Sabbath 22. I preached in the chapel. Oh, wretched appearance of broken windows! It was a sacramental day. Were I a young man, I should not wish to be stationed in Wilmington. Our funds are low here, and our house a rack. Monday 23 We came away to Widow Nixon's.
Tuesday to Shepard's. Dr. Lomas has been suddenly called away by death. Wednesday to Lot Ballard's. Shall the gospel be taken from Goshen? Thursday dined at Joseph Bryan's.
Lodged at Hardy's. We dashed through Muscle Shell Creek in a swim. It was serious work. Friday 27 Dined at Hatch's.
a reception kind, and our host is in bed with a leg broken. We reached Newbern in the evening. Here is weeping and lamentation for poor me. The leading characters of the society cannot speak to each other, or of each other, without bringing heavy accusations. Yet all very glad to see the bishop. Saturday 28. My trust is in a faithful God. He hath never deceived me nor forsaken me. I am scarcely an hour free from pain, and all that I do is in the strength of Jesus.
Sabbath 29 I preached, and there was a trembling from first to last under the word. But it was with cold. Ah, people hard and dull. John Bond preached three times.
Possibly in my short exhortation to the society, I talked down the tempers of some of the members. Ah, wretched use of liquid fire. Monday 30 Cold indeed. My feet suffer. We made twenty-six miles to a house. No wood at the door, and none to cut wood.
Tuesday, thirty-one. A heavy storm took us at Greenville. We put the remains of a poor, pious slave in the ground who had reached one hundred years. Brandy in a cold is like laudanum. Wednesday, February 1. We came twenty-two miles. I was nearly done. Had we followed our first plan and gone by Norfolk, it would have probably cost me my life. It was time to lower our sails and drop anchor at Edward Hall's, near Tarborough. It is paradise regained for a few days. The weather
has been excessively cold, and keenly felt by an old man of seventy, deeply wounded in the limbs, breast, and lungs. Sabbath 5. I spoke to a gathering of serious people in Edward Hall's large dining room. The speaker was led to some awful truths. I am occupied in reading, writing, and patching and propping up the old clay house as well as I may. God be gracious to us still. Monday 6. We breakfasted with Mrs. Austin.
Oh, the look expressive of the workings of her soul she gave, when in the trying hour she said, Pray for me. Shall a Methodist conference assemble, a society be gathered, and a chapel be built in Tarboro? Dined with Exum Lewis and wife. This favored pair have been renewed and quickened. The house of their father was amongst the first in former days to receive the Methodists, and the children now opened their house and hearts and hands to them. May the Lord convert
and own and bless their children's children to the latest generations. Amen. Amen. Came to James Hunter's at Fishing Creek. A cold ride. I sent for dear Henry Bradford and his wife, and we renewed our covenant with God. Tuesday to Halifax. Mother Long would by no means take a nay. Honorable woman, I gave an evening lecture to some serious souls, and John Wesley Bond exhorted after me with energy. Wednesday 8. Cross the bleak ferry to Sister Sarah Weaver's.
Virginia, Saturday 11. We're at Matthew Myrick's, Virginia. To rest the horses, not ourselves. The alarms of the wasting sickness are very serious. I wrote an epistle to Norfolk and another to Suffolk. Sabbath 12. I preached in Drumgold's house.
Dr. Simmons kindly officiated and drew two ounces of blood from my arm. I ordained Edward Drumgold an elder in the Church of God. E.D. was born in Sligo. Joined the Methodists in 1770. Began to exhort in 1774.
Traveled in America from 1774 until 1785. Since then has been a faithful local preacher, respected and beloved. He has six children living, two of whom, Edward and Thomas, are local deacons. Monday, 13 Came away in company with P. Bryce, John Early, and William Barnes, to Louis Greggs.
Calling on Major Thomas on our route. Tuesday, 14 A great storm of snow blew for eight miles in our eyes on our way to S. Holmes'. I saw Francis Hill once more. Thirty years has he been a backslider from God. May he be speedily restored. Sister Greg is sick, and Sister Holmes near the last great change.
To Osborne's we went forward twelve miles. We have seen some of our early acquaintances once more. Wednesday, 15. Two fennels forty miles. Behold, we have a daughter, a disciple, in the ancient house of Bedford. The kindness shown to God's people he hath repaid. To Father Jude's on Thursday, where I was willing to rest, for I felt very ill.
Friday, 17 We came into Lynchburg in great weariness, having dined at Mr. Reed's. Sunday, 19 I preached in the new, neat brick chapel, forty feet by fifty. Monday and Tuesday we progressed well in our business.
Dr. Jennings preached us a great sermon on, I am the vine, ye are the branches. Friday 24 We ordained elders, and I tried to speak on Philippians 2, 19-22. I failed. I have been almost strangled with an asthmatic cough and vomiting of blood.
Sunday 26 I keep the house and busy myself to organize the stations. Thanks to the God of peace. We are confirmed in the belief that a treaty has been made between the United States and Great Britain. We have ordained twenty deacons and eight elders. Is there not a declination in gifts,
as well as members? We settled at seventy-one dollars each man. Monday, 27. Came away from Lynchburg to Amherst Courthouse, lodging with a local preacher who keeps a public house. May he disappoint all my fears, and exceed all my hopes. Tuesday, 28. I preached at Meredith's.
Shall we have to cross Buffalo, Pine, and Thai rivers, after the thawing of the great snow? Wednesday, March 1. Came to S. Garland's, Nelson Courthouse. Thursday to the Widow Gentry's. Friday, 3.
As we passed Monticello, a cloud rested upon it. The day was clear. We crossed the north branch of James River, near Charlottesville, sheltered for the night under the roof of the widow Gillum. We have bad roads, and I am feebleness itself. We crossed Rapid Dam at the Race Ford, and came to my dear John Stockdale's on Saturday evening.
Hail, rest. Sunday, five. We had preaching in the morning, and I spoke a few minutes in the evening. Water the seed, O Lord. Monday 6. To Henry Fries. I have passed a painful night.
The last in this house, perhaps. Tuesday to Culpeper. Would I not stay and preach to them? Oh, that I were able. To Will is always present with me.
We went forward to Rix's. This was a gentleman who kept private accommodation. The law being against private entertainment. His bill in the morning amounted to five dollars, save two shillings. Wednesday dined at Bashaw's and lodged at New Baltimore.
Thursday 9. Came to Fairfax Courthouse, dining on our route at Alexander Wangho's. Friday to Georgetown. Saturday, writing official letters. Maryland, Sunday 12.
In the chapel I lectured on a chapter of Hosea. My mind, perhaps, partakes of the weakness of my body. I let fly a few scattering shot. I keep up a kind of running fire with my small gun sermonizing. Our ranks are thinned, if one hundred have died in the Lancaster, Virginia circuit.
I behold the ruins of the Capitol and the President's house. The Navy Yard we burned ourselves. O war, war. Monday, 13. A cold ride brought us to Elkridge, and our old friend, Widow Honor Dorsey, gave us a
shelter and a welcome. Tuesday came into Baltimore. My kind, inquiring friends are coming in from morning till night. I am with my old friend, the Widow Dickens. Saturday, 18.
I preached at the Point. Our conference began on Monday, and prudence restrained me to one session per day. Perhaps I did not speak officially six times during the continuance of conference. When it was understood that the ancient superintendent did not attend in the afternoon, the visits to him were renewed.
Stationing about 85 preachers, we found to be no small work. Friday we ordained the deacons in Light Street Church. Being Good Friday, a fast was appointed, and I spoke a few words on the sufferings of Christ. Sunday 26. At Utah Chapel, I spoke upon the apostolic order of things.
Monday, conference rose. Tuesday, I retired to Perry Hall. The stormy, damp weather is hard upon me, but I abound here in comforts above millions. Lord, make me grateful and humble. What a preacher and writer was Samuel Davies. His sermons are very Methodistical. We have sent Samuel Montgomery to Montreal,
and Samuel Burgess to Chenango district. They have had our counsel and our prayers. Sunday, April 2. In great weakness, I gave my farewell exhortation at the Fork Chapel. Came back to Perry Hall. All here is solitary to me. Monday 3. At Havre de Grasse I see the fourth generation of the Jarretts, but some are still out of Christ. We crossed the ferry in six minutes.
At Northeast Chapel I gave them a farewell discourse. I passed a restless night. Oh, the kindness of the people to a poor sinner saved by grace alone. Wednesday, James Smith went forward and preached in the Elk Chapel. At one o'clock we came up, exhorted, sung, and prayed. We must attend to our appointments, though we should speak but little, for the people wish to see us. We have lived and labored so long that we have become a spectacle
to men. This place, Elkton, has been founded about fifty years. It may be visited of the Lord in the fourth or fifth generation. The speaker remembered that although the British were all around them, they escaped a visit. In great weakness of body we came on to the comfortable retreat of Nicholas chambers. Thursday 6. Stopped at Bethel, spoke a little, and prayed. We dropped anchor at Richard Bassett's, until better weather. Saturday I sent forward John Smith to fill my appointment.
My unpleasant cough still cleaves to me. Bohemia Manor was formerly the field in which the Whitefield Methodists, called New Lights, labored with success. The Wesleyan Methodists are heirs to these, according to the Gospel. Sunday 9. We would have attended meeting today, but we wished not to ride fourteen miles. We called a meeting at Richard Bassett's, and took occasion to speak of the work of God in the days of the new lights. Sixty years past.
Delaware, Monday, 10. We came away in the rain to Smyrna, stopping by the way at A. Shorts. We lodged with Israel Peterson. Tuesday, 11. At Dover, my dear friends who had not seen me for one and two years visited me, and led me into conversation the whole afternoon. It is hard, think they, that we cannot see him. So it might be thought in every place. But do they always remember the hardship they impose on me? So we go.
Wednesday 12. We came to Camden, the first upon the line of my appointments. I spoke a few words and came to James's, son of David Owens, my old disciple. We called on James Bateman as we came along. Thursday 13. I preached once more at Johnstown. The day had been set apart for a general thanksgiving for peace, and I remembered it in the pulpit. We dined with P. Wells and rode back to Milford.
Dust, fever, and too much company, these are my trials. Peace and perfect love, these are my consolations. Friday, 14. I preached and hasted to Frederica, lodging with Andrew Dill. Here we saw dear Dr. Edward White, who hath known and followed the Methodists since 1778.
I preached at Barrett's Chapel, in great feebleness of body. Must I needs dine with Judge Andrew Barrett? Ah, I know that my father and mother thought more of him than of any man upon the earth. And well does it become their son to respect him. And is this all?
God forbid. Sunday, 16 I preached in Wesley Chapel, Dover, and the truth was felt. Monday, after delivering a short exhortation at Smyrna, I rode on to Smith's, Newcastle County. Tuesday, 18. Reached Wilmington. Wednesday, two landreths. Thursday, I sat in conference a
while, but became sick. Friday, I tried it again. Saturday, a chill overcame me, followed by burning heat. I continued at Richard Bowyer's. Pennsylvania, Sunday, 23. Instead of filling an appointment, I was taken with a chill, followed by high fever. I have groaned away the whole week. I was lodged beyond the first gate, and few knew where I was. Attentions overcome me.
Friday, 28. Feeling no fever, I ventured to whisper a few words. Perhaps I shall be able to say something in the new chapel in 10th Street, Philadelphia. Sunday, 30. At three o'clock I preached in the chapel in 10th Street.
What a noble building. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, resting at Thomas Haskins. Thursday at Trenton. End of section 45. Recording by Brian Keenan.
