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Contributed to Marion County SCGenWeb by Sandra Richardson Pound, 15 August 2000
My Dear Britton's Neck, South Carolina [From Memoir of James Jenkins, 1842]My maternal grandfather was one of the first settlers on Britton's Neck, so called after him, and which name it bears to the present day.--This is a narrow neck of land, lying a few miles above Georgetown, between the waters of the Great and Little Pee Dee. He married Sarah Dupree, by whom he had two children, David and Elizabeth. The latter, my mother was born in the year 1741; and though brought up chiefly in the Neck, received her education in Charleston; at which place she lived in the family of the Winwrights. She was first united in marriage to William Goddard, by whom she had one son. Not long after, while on a visit to Charleston, Mr. Goddard died; and his remains are now lying in the old Episcopal church-yard in that city. She afterward married Samuel Jenkins, my father, who was born 1729; and by whom she had seven children--Samuel, Sarah, Britton, James, Elizabeth, Thomas, and Daniel. Three of these, viz., Sarah, Thomas, and Daniel, died, while quite young (7-8).
I was born on the north side of Little Pee Dee, in the upper part of Britton's Neck, on the 29th of Nov., A.D. 1764. Here I will introduce a fact which evinces the superintending care of God over me during my infancy. At about three months old I had the whooping-cough; and so violent was the disorder, that my mother laid me down several times, supposing I was dead. My recovery from this affliction, which was certainly remarkable, induced my uncle James Jenkins, an eye witness, to utter an expression indicative of his conviction respecting my future usefulness. And once for all, let me now remark, that if, in the course of these pages, it shall appear that I have been, in any degree, useful to my fellow-creatures, to God's name be all the glory (8).
When I was quite small, for I can just remember it, my father moved down within two miles of Georgetown. Here he lost two children and several negroes; in consequence of which, he became dissatisfied with the place, and resolved to seek a healthier situation; accordingly he moved up the river, and settled on the east side of Great Pee Dee, nearly opposite Port's Ferry. While at this place, when about ten years old, I received my first religious impressions (8-9).
It is true, that at the very time of my serious concern about my soul, my father and mother were members of the Baptist Church; and, for the most part, were correct in their deportment, and paid some attention to the forms and externals of religion; but I fear there were destitute of an experimental knowledge of true piety (9-10).
We seldom heard preaching in those days.--There was but one church in the Neck; and it was only occasionally supplied by a Presbyterian minister. I used to ride on the same horse with my father to meeting; but all that was said was as a sealed book to me, for I understood not the things that were spoken. My notion about conversion was very incorrect; I thought it was nothing more than a dream or some strange sight (9-10).
My father was a farmer, and early taught me the art of husbandry. He brought me up in habits of industry and honesty, for which I am truly thankful; as I have long ago seen the advantages resulting from such a course…. When I was a boy, we had a neighbour who was not so rich as my father, but who must raise his sons to be gentlemen: hence, they were idle; spent their time in hunting, visiting, fishing, &c.; and when they used to pass by me hard at work, I regarded my condition a grievous one; but in a few years I saw that I had no reason to complain. Every one of those young men turned out badly: they would not work; and from laziness they soon glided into dishonesty and disgrace (11-12).
It was while my father lived near Port's Ferry that I went to my first school; so it will be seen we were about as destitute, in those days, of book instruction as of moral and religious training. It was a very difficult thing to get a school at all, in many places; and when we obtained one, it was only for a few months; and then, perhaps the teacher was intemperate, or otherwise utterly disqualified for his office. Here, however, I learned to spell and read. The Testament was my reading book; and I remember in reading the miracles of our Lord, how my mind was impressed with the idea of his greatness and power; particularly when reading about his calming the sea, for this made the deepest impression (13).
I have now come to that period in my history which "tried men's souls"--I mean the revolutionary war (14).
My father belonged at this time to the Neck company, commanded by Captain John Dozier, which was early called out, and he among the rest, to rout the Tories on Keowee River, N.C., in what was called the Keowee expedition. After they had dispersed the Tories and taken Fletcher, an officer, prisoner, he returned; not having been absent more than four or five weeks (16).
About a year after this first expedition, my father was draught to defend the sea-coast, and stationed on Seawee Bay, in which was called, I think, the Seawee expedition. He left in the spring, just after his crop had been planted, and did not return until harvest; but, by the blessing of a kind Providence on our efforts at home, we made a plentiful crop; never better, even when he was with us (16-17).
In the year 1778, as well as I remember, my brother Francis [Francis Goddard], being a bachelor, insisted on our moving down in the Neck, and living with him, as he had room and land enough for us all; accordingly, we did so. We were now in the midst of a neighbourhood of hot Whigs and warm friends of their country. But there was a body of Tories over Little Pee-Dee, who were becoming very troublesome, constantly committing depredations on their neighbours; in consequence of this, my cousin John Jenkins, being the only Whig in that settlement, feeling his life to be constantly in jeopardy, took refuge in the Neck. By this time our family became quite large--father, mother, four sons, and one cousin: but it did not continue so long; for at the call of our beloved country, my brothers and cousin left us, and made the swamp their camp, and the battle-field their home. They, and all the Neck company, were now called out into the army, in which they continued, by intervals, until the close of the war. Meanwhile, our troublesome neighbours, taking the advantage of our unprotected condition, (for there were scarcely a half dozen men left in the Neck,) came down on a plundering expedition, and scoured out the settlement like a swarm of hungry Egyptian locusts. When I saw them coming to our house, I took refuge in the top of a tree about eighty years distant, whence I could see all their movements, undiscovered. In this situation I was when they took the last horse we had on the place, and although large enough to carry a gun, I durst not open my mouth; for they would have shot me down with the same indifference that they would a squirrel or a crow (17-18).
Near the time of which I have just been speaking, in the year 1780, we lost our beloved father. This was a heavy stroke indeed, especially at this time, when my brothers were in the army, and my mother and self in a most exposed and dangerous situation; for it is difficult to say who were in the more perilous condition, they in the field, or we at home. My father died of consumption, which was induced by exposure, during his service in the Seawee expedition (18).
Soon after my father's death, the British, who were fortified in Georgetown, sent a flag and message to our men, who were at their redoubt, thrown up on the east side of Great Pee Dee, by order of Colonel Irvin. The bearer of this flag was Merriot, the officer who afterward made so narrow an escape near Georgetown, when he was the only one out of twenty-five that was not taken; and who was so dreadfully frightened in the chase, "that he turned as gray as a badger before he crawled out of the swamp and reached Georgetown that night" On his way to Irvin's redoubt, he crossed Britton's Ferry, and cousin Britton accompanied him to our house. Neither mother nor myself knew that he was a British officer until he made a remark that revealed the secret. Mother asked cousin Britton if it would be safe to send to Waccamaw for salt? to which Merriot replied, with an oath, "No, madam, for we have a great big thing there we call a galley." Mother, mortified that she should have expressed a fear about the strength of our fort, in the presence of an enemy, and indignant at his reply, answered; "Sir, I suppose you think you have got so far back in the country that no one here ever saw a galley but yourself; I will have you to know, sir, that I have been as well raised as yourself." Merriot, finding times were getting rather hot, attempted to apologize, as he picked up his hat to leave; but mother, turning to cousin Britton, said, in the presence of the officer who was retiring, "If you cannot bring any better company with you than this, you had better keep away." When he got to the redoubt, he was taken prisoner and confined in Mr. Goddard's house until the British relieved him; for Irvin, hearing that they were coming, vacated the fort (18-19).
I do not remember any incidents worth recording, respecting my brothers, until after they joined Marion; which was soon after he retook our men near Nelson's Ferry, and made prisoners of the British, the captain who ran up the chimney, and all. They continued with him during the war, bearing a part in nearly all his skirmishes. This company was called "Marion's Brigade;" some of whose engagements, especially those with which my brothers were connected, I will now notice. And first, they were present at Black Mingo Swamp, where the two armies fought so close to each other that the wads fell on each side. Here Marion was in a fair way to gain a complete victory; but hearing Colonel Hovey's horse crossing the Black River bridge, and supposing it was the enemy coming on his rear, he thought it prudent to retreat. Again, they were in company when Marion attacked and took the Tories in the fork of Black River, commanded by Col. Tynes. Marion crossed the north branch of the river, below their camp, and came up in the fork, which side was altogether unguarded. Here a man was killed with a game card in his hand; and here Capt. James Rembert was rescued from them, but got his arm broken in the skirmish (19-20).
The next attack deserving notice was at old Capt. Postell's, on the branch of Pee Dee River. The British had taken him prisoner and carried him to Georgetown; his sons were with Marion; the fine large house on the premises had been seized and was now occupied by the enemy as a fortification, it being so convenient to obtain supplies for their army. Here they were as snugly situated as if they had been the owners of the palace, and the lords of creation. But Marion, hearing of their comfortable quarters, resolved to disturb their repose, and break up their nest; nor could he be at any loss what officer to send: here was young Postell himself, well acquainted with every nook and corner about the place. He was already nettled at his father's treatment, and begrudged them his former home; while he had to lie in the swamps, with the heavens for his covering. His fingers were itching to get hold of them; so off he starts with fourteen men, to rout these intruders from the home of his youth; and, in order to conceal his numbers, formed them into a line four deep, and charged up behind the kitchen. He immediately sent in a flag, and ordered them to surrender. The officer asked a short time to make up his mind; Postell said he would not give him five minutes, and ordered him men to bring straw and set fire to the kitchen, from which the dwelling-house might take fire. But the officer seeing what they were up to, made his men stack their arms in the house and march out into the yard. When he presented his sword to Postell, he asked, "Where are your men?" and, on being told these fourteen were all, my brother said, he was the most angry man he ever saw. But this had now become British ground; hence, they had no time to tarry; off they put for the camp; Postell's men mounted, these on foot; and, by the time they reached the camp, the poor fellows on foot were mortified more than ever, having soiled their pretty trousers; for being in a hurry, Postell had mede them plunge every creek and mud-hole in the way (20-21).
When the British were in possession of Camden, under Lord Rawdon, Marion sent a small company to make observations. The British had charge also of the mills near Camden, (Now belonging to Colonel Chesnut,) where they got grinding done for their army, and had stationed a company of men to defend it. This scout of Marion's approached in the night, and my brother, with one or two more, was in the act of setting fire to the building, when M'Pherson, contrary to orders, shot down their centry. This roused the men in the house, who came swarming down like bees; and alarmed the horse in Camden, whose feet roared like thunder, as they came to their relief; so the scout had to retreat (22).
It was a sad day to the Tories: several of our old neighbours (among whom was my father's old blacksmith) were killed. But Marion suffered also; for they not only made prisoners of the men they took from us, but killed them in cold blood; particularly young Marion; his name along was enough for them; he was shot down, it was believed, by one Sweat, who was overtaken by justice the same day, and shared a similar fate (24).
My brothers were present also when Marion besieged and took Fort Watson, an Indian mound about forty feet high, on Scott's Lake, near Vance's Ferry. This was one of their posts, right on the "war path," between Charleston and Camden. Before this fort was taken, Marion cut off all communication, and literally starved them out. Here, my brother Samuel took the small-pox, which he carried home with him. It was thought best for us all to be inoculated; and I remember I exposed myself while under its influence, and became so deathly sick, I wished to die, not dreading the consequence; this circumstance convinces me that a man may be willing to die, in order to be relieved from present suffering, however unprepared to meet his God (24).
My brothers were with Marion when pursued by Lord Cornwallis from Savannah; and narrowly escaped being taken prisoners at the fall of Charleston (24).
About this time, Watson started toward Lumberton, N. C., on a plundering expedition. I suppose he crossed at Britton's Ferry, and came up through the Neck. He got to our house on the 7th of April, about 9 or 10 o'clock, A. M.-- (25).
This over, Col. Watson resumed the conversation, by saying, "Well, madam, have you heard that Gen. Marion has joined Lord Rawdon?" "No sir, indeed I have not." "Well, madam, it is a matter of fact." "Sir, I don't believe it" (26-27).
The next day, Watson and his men proceeded toward North Carolina in great glee, blowing their bugles as they went, until they heard that General Green was coming; when they turned about and made for Georgetown, in great haste, and with all possible silence. On their return, I narrowly escaped falling into their hands (27).
As soon as my brothers recovered from the small-pox, they joined the brigade again. In a short time, Marion and Sumter united their forces and followed the British toward Charleston until they came to Quinby Bridge, where the enemy were snugly fortified in a range of houses, and prepared for battle. Sumter and Marion had no other alternative but to march up in the open field, entirely exposed, or command a retreat. The attack was made, and with great loss to our men. All that fell in this action were of Marion's command. Here my brother Frank [Francis Goddard] received a wound, of which he died in a few days. He was an amiable young man, strictly moral, and greatly beloved by us all. When cousin John returned and brought the news, it was like a dagger to my heart; and having heard that Sumter would go into battle, whether or not, live or die, I thought then, I could never forgive him. I was also informed that Marion was opposed to risk his men under circumstances so forbidding; and, from what I have heard of his character, I am disposed to believe it. He loved his men, and would not expose them where there was no hope (27-28).
The last battle in which my brothers and cousin were engaged, and I believe the last remarkable one in the state, was at the Eutaw Springs. This was, perhaps, the hottest engagement they had, and one that decided victory on our side; for, notwithstanding the surrender at Yorktown, made by Cornwallis to Washington, was subsequent to this; and although various engagements took place in South Carolina afterward; yet, it was this battle which gave the death-blow to British arrogance, as it existed among us, and vastly moderated their contemptuous hate and lordly bearing. This battle was fought on the 8th of September, 1781 (28).
A short time before the close of the war, I was called out under Col. Baxter, who had charge of a small part of Marion's brigade. Our principal business was to guard the Neck against the invasion of Tories. We encamped first at Ray's, (in the Neck.) From Ray's we removed to Tarrel's Bay, near Little Pee Dee; thence to the redoubt thrown up and occupied by Marion, opposite Port's Ferry; thence, again, a few miles above the ferry, on the bank of the river. Here we remained until we heard the Tories had taken our boat freighted with rice, near the mouth of Black Lake, which induced us to go in pursuit of them. When we got there, they would not stand to give us fight; but, while our men, in canoes, were going up the lake in search of the boat, they fired on them from the swamp, and wounded one of the company, Robert James.--From this place, Baxter detached a small company, and myself among them, with an express to Capt. Warden, at Star Bluff, on Waccamaw, who was stationed there to guard that part of the country. From this place we had to carry a message to the army in North Carolina. On our way, we were obliged to camp in a Tory neighbourhood, where we expected an attack without fail. About day-break we heard our centry hail, "Who comes there?" and the reply, "A friend." "Friend to whom?" bawled out the centry. "to King George," said the other; when off went their guns, and into the camp ran our centries with great precipitation. Immediately we were ordered to form; so up we jumped, and bareheaded and undressed, we snatched up our guns, making ready for battle; but we could see no enemy; and soon found it was a false alarm, intended by the officers to ascertain whether their men could be relied on in the event of an engagement. In a few days we reached the army, and delivered our message. They had taken two noted Tories, who were to be executed the day we got there; but our captain being anxious to get home, would not stay for us to witness their execution (29-30). When we returned home; we were discharged, there being no longer any necessity for our services in the field. Here that protracted, eventful, and bloody struggle, closed; and in view of the many horrible and intolerable evils that followed in its wake, I am prepared to pray, "Keep far our foes; give peace at home." And, again, "From all pestilence, and famine, and war, good Lord, deliver us (30)!"
Soon after the war closed my brother Samuel married, and I continued still to live in the Neck, sometimes with him, and then with my mother. This was a dark day indeed in this region of country: during the space of nearly ten years I do not remember to have heard more than two sermons. Like Israel, when they had no king, "every man did that which seemed right in his own eyes;" we had no one to take us by the hand, and lead us into the right way; "no man cared for our souls." One of the sermons above mentioned was a funeral discourse over one of my school-mates; and as a proof that the people were not only ignorant and wicked, but superstitious withal, it was customary in those days to have wine and cake at all funerals, and if these could not be procured, they would give a dinner. The coloured people carried it further still: they would have a great supper, and after this what they called a play for the dead, which was nothing but a frolic, which lasted to the dawn of day, when they went to the grave of the deceased, making great lamentation over it, and broke a bottle of spirits on the head -board, or if this could not be had, meal and water were substituted in its place. Again, among white and coloured, if anyone appeared willing to die, and no remarkable incident (as a storm, &c.) occurred at the time, it was taken for granted that such a one had gone to heaven, no matter what had been his manner life. So sadly superstitious were some, that I was told one man, in order to make it rain, during a season of excessive drought, dug nearly one whole day to get an alligator out of its cave, that he might turn it on its back, fully believing that this would secure his object in a very short time (31-32).
In my twentieth year I superintended a plantation belonging to a cousin, where, having some refractory negroes to govern, my temper became often exited, and I increased in vice daily. One of the sermons that I mentioned as having heard in the space of ten years, was preached by a Methodist, of Lady Huntingdon's school, who was the first of the name I remember to have seen. I asked my mother what mode of baptism these Methodists practiced? She told me, either immersion or pouring, as the candidate preferred. This I regarded, at least, a liberal sentiment. It was about this period that I attempted, for the first time, to pray; I retired to a secret place in the grove, and got down on my knees, but pray I could not, for at the chirp of every bird, and the shaking of every leaf, I thought some one was approaching, and that I should be discovered (32-33).
In 1788, being sensible of the value of education, and of my great deficiency in this respect, I entered school again for three months, and boarded with a rich cousin, whose riches, however, did him no good. Here, from imprudently going into the water when I was warm, and close confinement at school, together with repulsively low living, (for we very seldom had any meat,) I took the dropsy, and in a short time could hardly "go high low." I applied to a physician, who gave me some pills, which salivated me severely. The swelling was reduced, but my strength failed in proportion, in consequence of which I laid aside the pills, and took some simples till I was restored (33).
By the direction of a good Providence I moved to Britton's Ferry, and lived with my brother, who was a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church. At this place I had the opportunity of attending circuit preaching regularly, a privilege which I did not have before, either while living with my mother in the Neck, or at my cousin's. The first sermon, that affected me to tears, was preached here my Beverly Allen, from "How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?" My awakenings were very gradual; grace shined into my heart little by little; instead of pleading my good works for justification, I saw I had never done a meritorious act; all, all was sin (34-35).
I had read the Methodist tracts, talked with the members of the church, and was pretty well acquainted with their rules; all that was wanting now to determine my course was a knowledge of the manner in which church members got along in other places. To satisfy my mind on this point, I asked the preacher, brother Humphries, to let me go round the circuit with him; to which he consented. We met at Hickory Grove meeting-house. Knowing I was serious, he improved the opportunity, giving me such counsel and instruction as I needed, both from the pulpit and in private conversation (36). In this route I got acquainted with that holy man of god, Tobias Gibson, who at that time was quite careless about his soul (36-37).
Having gone round the circuit with brother Humphries, I joined the church at Britton's Neck meeting-house, on the 10th of August, 1789. On my way from church, in a smooth, level part of the road, my horse fell down with me; when the devil, as though he were sure of me then, suggested, this is a certain indication that you will backslide; and I confess, that however unnoticed such an event might pass, under other circumstances, a fear, lest the devil's prediction should be fulfilled, has often stimulated me to the performance of religious duties. We had to ride seven miles to class-meeting, and cross the river swamp on the way. The next year my brother moved five miles further, which made the distance twelve miles, and yet it was a rare thing to miss our meetings. Class-meetings assisted me in various ways; here I was drilled and instructed, warned and comforted; and so fond was I of them, that I would rather miss hearing an ordinary sermon than neglect my class. About this time I saw more sensibly the necessity of conscious pardon--a clear conviction or assurance of my adoption into the family of God (37-38).
The next day, which was the 2nd of February, 1790, we came to Flowers' Church, "where," says the bishop, "we had a living stir; one soul found peace, and I had freedom in preaching;" and glory! glory! glory be to God, I was that soul (42)!
From this place I went to a cousin's at the Eutaw Springs. Her husband showed me the battle ground, where my cousin, John Jenkins, with others, fell; here I counted thirteen bullet holes in a small tree which stood between the two armies. I saw the bones of Colonel Washington's horse; also those of a large man, whose skull bore the mark of the sword. In order to touch the heart of my cousin, I asked him if he did not feel awful when he reflected that this man, too, must be brought into judgment? I fear it did not affect him. Having remained with my cousin a short time, I went up to Cloud's Creek, I think in the Bush River circuit, and stayed all night at brother Webb's Here I became acquainted with that dear, good man, Samuel Ansley (43-44).
My beloved mother accompanied me the first day to the residence of brother Humphries, some distance on my way, and on the morrow, which was the 10th of March, 1792, I took an affectionate leave of her, bade farewell to all, and directed my course for the vineyard: On the third night I reached Major Fullwood's where I met with his son, my colleague on the circuit. Having departed thence for our work, we stayed all night at brother James Rembert's. Here I became acquainted with that great and good man, Isaac Smith. One sabbath we met a congregation of coloured people on Broad River, to whom we gave a word of exhortation, and who became so noisy that brother Fullwood left the house (50).
This circuit was formed in 1789, by brothers Andrew and Matthews, and extended from Campleton, near where Hamburgh now stands, up the Savannah to old Cherokee Town, thence in a line along the Blue Ridge across to Saluda, taking the course of this river down through the neighbourhood of the present side of Cokesbury to Edgefield, embracing the districts of Edgefield, Abbeville, and Pendleton. I went round first, making appointments for my colleague, and preaching occasionally. It was a six weeks' circuit, being at least three hundred miles in circumference; wherefore, the preachers scarcely ever saw each other except at quarterly meetings. This was emphatically new ground--Methodism was in its infancy- -the people knew but little about us, but had heard a great deal, and much not our prejudice; the bitterness, too, of opposition was greatly increased y the conduct of Beverly Allen, for it was here he fell (50-51). On going round the circuit I met with brother James Dowthel, afflicted with rheumatism from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet; he was playing Jonah's part, trying to fly from the call of God, but at the close of the year he got away from this whale, (his afflictions,) and joined the conference, to go to Nineveh, or anywhere he might be sent (51).
Brother Fullwood and myself continued to labour for some time alone; after a few rounds, brother Richardson, from the Western Conference, joined us, and laboured with us about a quarter, then left, and went to the Saluda circuit (51-52).
It was within the bounds of this circuit that the Americans made a prisoner of Fletcher, and dispersed the Tories. The marks of our revolutionary war still remain. In the fork of Keowee River and Crow Creek may be seen the remains of a fort, which had been build as a defense against the Indians and Tories. Here, for the first time, I had a view of the Blue Ridge, rising like a distant cloud in the western horizon, and inspiring the mind with awful conceptions of the power and grandeur of the great Creator. A sight of the Table Rock affected me in a similar manner--a solid mass of rock of uncommon grandeur, the entire mountain being four thousand feet in height (52).
I often wondered how the people would be able to live through the year; but the Lord provided a way of which I had not thought. Fruit was abundant, and on it the people chiefly subsisted. Another circumstance in their favour was, the superior quality of the crops under the Blue Ridge; whence some, at least, obtained partial supplies. In addition to the above, our lives were in danger from the tomahawk of the Indians, whose principal town (Cherokee) was within six miles of one of our appointments. The chief and some of his men attended once when brother Richardson preached. During prayer, the men indulged in laughter, but the chief appeared serious and attentive. After preaching, he apologized to brother Richardson for the conduct of his men, saying, "They did not know to whom you were talking, but I know; it was to the Great Spirit." Brother R. conversed with him some time, and among other questions, asked him where good men went after death? He replied, "To the Great Spirit." "Where do bad ones go?" "To the fire;" pointing at the same time to a fire that was near. He gave brother R. an invitation to visit his town, and pray for them; accompanying his words with placing his hands on his knees and lowering them (54-55).
Soon after this, some troublesome men from the frontier settlements made an attack upon their town, plundered it, and killed this chief, which exposed us all to imminent danger. All the white families in the neighbourhood, except two, left their houses and retreated to the white settlements; these two families we had to visit and preach to, when we were expecting an attack from the Indians every day, to take vengeance on us for their murdered chief; we were not, however, at all molested (55-56). Our presiding elder, Reuben Ellis, visited us only twice this year, so extensive was his district. I received $22, including presents " (58).
1793 Conference held at Charleston, the first of the year; indeed, it commenced the 24th of Dec., '92. At this conference Samuel Richer, James Donthet admitted on trial I was sent to the Oconee circuit, in Georgia; left still in company with the friends of my choice, Lipsey and Gibson (58). In consequence of the Indian settlements bordering on my circuit, I was again exposed to danger from this quarter. They killed two young men within three miles of one of my appointments. The whites were alarmed, and raised a block-house in Pullen's neighbourhood; they also assembled at Gen. Irvin's seventeen miles above the former place, on the Oconee; but did not fortify there. On one occasion, after preaching at Irvin's some friends said it would not be safe for me to go down to the fort, at Pullen's, inasmuch as the way lay through a swamp where several murders had been committed. I concluded at first that I would not go; but afterward feeling uneasy about it, I told them I must go at all hazards. It was then said, "Well, if you will go, some of us must go with you;" whereupon, four young men, armed with guns, set out with me for the fort. We reached there about dark, unharmed, unmolested; but as soon as I entered the enclosure, I had to face the great enemy of God and man, (the devil,) by reproving sinners, of whom there were not a few (63).
I became convinced this year that wicked and unprincipled men were the cause of most of the outrages and cruelties committed by the Indians. A large company of such wretches wished to plunder an Indian town on Flint River, and for this purpose marched toward it with guns, dogs, and horns, hoping, by the great noise they made, to frighten the Indians and drive them away. In this, however, they were disappointed; the Indians determined to defend their property; and accordingly concealed themselves under the banks of the river. As soon as the white men had forded about half way across the river, the signal was given, and a volley was poured forth by the Indians from the banks which seemed to be in one entire blaze. At the first fire, two men were killed and several wounded; the young man who related to me the whole affair was himself saved by the pommel of his saddle, into which a ball entered, that would otherwise have proved fatal (65).
I will here mention an instance of Indian cruelty, which happened a few years before, and which I learned from brother D. Jackson, in whose family it occurred. Brother Jackson had gotten about fifty yards from his house one morning, going after his horses, when, hearing a yell, he looked round and saw several Indians entering his house. They murdered his wife and two servants; shot his daughter, about twelve years of age, through the body, scalped her, and then placed the infant on the hearth almost in the fire. Soon after they left the house, the girl they considered as dead, revived, and seeing the position of the infant, moved it away from the fire; it, however, soon died in consequence of this exposure. The girl recovered entirely, and was married about he time I entered the circuit (65-66).
1794. Conference, January 1st, at Finche's, in Broad River circuit. At this conference, James King and Richard Posey were admitted; and Jno Crawford and James Holley located. Brother Ellis was transferred to the Virginia Conference, and Philip Bruce to this, and made presiding elder in his place (67). Santee circuit was formed by Richard Smith, in 1786, and included the districts of Sumter, Kershaw, and a part of Richland (68). The commencement of the year had been rainy; but about July the weather became dry, and the fever prevailed with great fatality. While the sickly season lasted, brother Cannon and myself preached about forty funeral sermons (68-69).
1795 Conference at Charleston. I think Methodism was introduced into Charleston in 1785. Brother Henry Willis visited the place early in this year, and having obtained a letter of recommendation from brother Wayne of Georgetown to Mr. Edgar Wells, a respectable merchant of the city, he called on him. Bishop Asbury visited the city for the first time about the last of February of this year; and before he left, this same Mr. Wells was converted, and his wife brought under powerful convictions (70).
The first conference held here was on the 12th of March, 1788; at which time Duke W. Hullom, Henry M. Gains, Benj. Matthews, Wm. Guiry, were admitted. Thos. Humphries, Hope Hull, Wm. M'Dowell, Coleman Carlisle, Arthur Lipsey, and Jno. Crawford, located. But to return to our conference of 1795. The bishop brought two additional labourers from Virginia: Samuel Cowls and James Rogers. From this conference S. Cowls and myself were appointed to Broad River circuit, which was formed in 1785, by Stephen Johnson. It commenced in the Dutch Fork and extended north on both sides of Broad River as far as the Pacolet Springs, including a part of Newberry, Fairfield, Chester, and Union districts. Within this circuit lived several local preachers, who had been the pioneers of Methodism in that section; among these were brothers Gossett and Partridge (70-71).
About this time the bishop was with us, I was so afflicted with pain and weakness in the breast, I asked permission to travel with him to the Western Conference, but he was not willing. I also suffered from an inflammation in one leg, (71). After this, I was afflicted with sore eyes, which for a time prevented me from reading: added to this, I received a rupture in the abdomen, which caused me many painful hours, both mental and physical (72).
1796 Conference January 1, again at Charleston. Isaac Smith, Benjamin Tarrant, Nicholas Waters, and William Fullwood, located this year (76).
In the course of this year the Methodists in Charleston were exposed to much persecution. On one occasion, while a prayer-meeting was being conducted at Mrs. Wells', on Broad-street, a mob collected, and split up the cellar door to obtain sticks, with which to fight their way among the despised Methodists; in this way the meeting for that night was broken up. Several of these vulgar and unruly men were indicted, (one of them, the son of a distinguished citizen of South Carolina,) but at the intercession of the friends of the young men, brother Blanton and sister Wells agreed to stop the prosecution, on condition, perhaps, that they should pay thirty dollars to the Orphan-house. Some of those who had been beaten were quite dissatisfied with the compromise (77).
This proved to be another year of suffering to me. Some time in April my horse fell with me, and catching my leg under him, injured it greatly. Immediately above the ankle was a bruise several inches long, which was more painful than any thing I had ever suffered. I kept it constantly poulticed, in order to allay the inflammation, and when riding, had to elevate my foot, by placing it on the upper part of the horse's shoulder. In preaching had to stand on one foot, resting the other on the seat behind me. Whenever my friends saw it, they would entreat me to discontinue travelling until I recovered, but to this I could not consent, so long as I was able at all to ride. I recollect having to travel thirty miles on a very hot day, in June, I think; and in the evening, having arrived at old mother Stephens's, on Beaver Dam Creek, after taking some refreshment I walked out to the woods, and when seated took off the dressing from my leg, when the wound appeared so black I was sure mortification had commenced; it did not, however, make me feel very uneasy, thought I was anxious to find some one to fill my place on the circuit. As I considered I must quit now at all events (78-79).
Nearly all the societies were revived, but Jeffrey's Creek meeting-house shared more bountifully than the rest (79).
1797 Conference commenced on the 5th of January at Charleston….The conference admitted Alexander M'Cain, Loammi Floyd, George Shanks, William West, Robert Gains, and Samuel Douthell. Hezekiah Arnold, Samuel Cowls, and William Moody, located. here I was ordained elder, and I felt that as I rose in the church I must make corresponding improvements in piety and usefulness (82-82). 1798. Conference again at Charleston. We used a room at the house of brother Myers. Bishop Asbury could not attend, inconsequence of affliction. Jesse Lee preached the pastoral sermon, from "And ye younger, submit yourselves to the elder," and Jonathan Jackson stationed the preachers, at the bishop's request, he being better acquainted with the men and work than any one else (84). The conference was agreeable throughout. George Dougherty, Thomas Milligan, Thomas Shaw, and Hanover Donnan, were admitted on trial. Brother James King had died of yellow fever in Charleston; it was said of him, "He gave his life, his labours, and fortune to the church and his brethren." (85). I was appointed to Bladen circuit with brothers Wilson and Milligan. Brother Jackson was our presiding elder. My colleagues entered on their work at once, but I was detained at home a few weeks, having to fix a house for my mother. The circuit lay partly in North and Sough Carolina, extending from Long Bay to Cape Fear, and including Kingston, now Conwayboro', Lumberton, Elizabeth, Smithville, and Old Brunswick court-house (85).
On my first round my course was obstructed by high water; in one instance I had to swim my horse over, and then return for my saddlebags and clothing by way of an old, precarious bridge (85-86). In the fall I took the fever, and had to stop one day to take medicine, but got my appointment filled. The next day I rode with the fever on me. I suffered some this year, but had much comfort and prosperity in my soul. Here the homespun coat, which my mother gave me, wore out, so much so that I lost one sleeve from the elbow down; but rather than lose time to go and obtain a new one, I went on round the circuit sleeveless in one arm, until a brother exchanged with me, giving me the best of the bargain (87). 1799. Conference January 1st, at Charleston. The conference admitted Lewis Myers, Zechariah Maddox, William Avants, and Moses Matthews. Josias Randle, Charles Ledbetter, Richard Posey, Henry M. Gains, Mark more, and Thomas Humphries, located. John Jones had died. I think we had a harmonious session, and left for our work with renewed strength. I was sent to Edisto circuit with brother Matthews, and Dillard; brother Blanton was our presiding elder. This circuit was first supplied by brother E. West in 1787, but Methodism was introduced here tow years before by brother Willis, from Charleston. (88-89). Some time in the spring one of our churches was burned down, where we had twenty-six members, thirteen of whom, however, I expelled. At my first appointment afterward I preached to them seated on a log, but after this me met at the house of a Baptist, living in the neighbourhood, who kindly opened his door to receive us (90).
We were hindered somewhat in our work this year by brother Matthews' horse being stolen: he had to lie still nearly six weeks. The miserable thief had just before been detected in a like crime, and narrowly escaped with his life; not long after that he was shot down while riding a stolen horse. "The way of transgressors is hard."(90).
1800 Conference again at Charleston. Six were admitted at this conference, viz.--John Campbell, Ezekiel Burdine, Levi Garrison, Jeremiah Russell, Moses Floyd, and Buddy W. Wheeler. I think no one located. My appointment, in the first instance, was back again to Edisto, with the understanding that it was to be divided, and I spend six months on each part; but about the close of the conference Floyd left us, and joined the Presbyterians, so as I was in the act of taking leave of the bishop, quite pleased at my reappointment to Edisto, he said, "You must go to Santee in Floyd's place" (92).
Santee and Catawba circuits had been united several years, and at this time reached from St. Paul's, near Nelson's ferry, on Santee River, to Providence, within ten miles of Charlotte, North Carolina. It lay on both sided of the Santee River, which we had to cross five times every round, that is, every six weeks. Soon after entering upon my work I got my leg severely bruised against a stump, by my horse taking fright. I know not that I ever felt keener pain in all my life; I screamed aloud, believing that my leg was broken; it soon inflamed, and became extremely sore. In this condition I met the bishop at Monk's Corner, according to agreement, that I might accompany him through my circuit. Next day I traveled about thirty miles, through the snow, to the widow Tuck's. Here the bishop saw my wound, and exclaimed, "I wish you were at home." In was with difficulty that I continued, but I lost no appointment on account of it. The next day we crossed the Santee, and came to St. Paul's, where the bishop preached; thence to Rembert's, Camden, and Norton's at which place we parted. So cold was the weather, one of my heels had become a little frost-bitten (93).
I continued to labour till toward the last of April, when I started for General Conference. I went by home, and spent a night in Britton's Neck. The society here was broken up, and they were raising their children like heathens. I left an appointment to preach to them on my return from Baltimore. From the Neck I directed my course to Cape Fear River, where I spent the sabbath among my old friends (94). On my return I had to lie by one day in consequence of hard and constant rain, and when I started I found nearly every river and creek overrunning. I had to cross on old bridges and floats, and frequently swam my horse by the side of a canoe. Cape Fear was truly dangerous. When I came to Pee Dee, within a day's ride of my appointment in the Neck, not being able to cross at the desired place, I went to the next ferry below, and started over, but the flat stranded on a sand bank, and finding no means of relief, I plunged my horse into the water, expecting him to swim; this, however, he did not, but the water ran over his back, and I was wet to my waist. In this condition I went to the church, where I found the congregation waiting, and without saying a word to any one, I commenced preaching in the name of the Lord (95).
Soon after this a second society was raised here, and there has continued to be one ever since. Brothers Greaves, Ellison, and Richardson, were raised up in this society. I spend the night with brother Woodbury. Next morning a boy swam my horse across the lakes or creeks, and William (now General Woodbury) carried me across in a canoe. I talked to him about his soul until I supposed he became tired of it, when he upset the canoe, pretending it was accident. I did not mind getting wet so much as getting my books ruined (96).
The addresses from conference soon reached the south, and kindled a flame of persecution against us. At Manchester a mob was raised to take brother Garrison on his preaching day; but he took to the bushes and escaped. My time was to come next, and I expected hot work, for I was resolved to stand my ground. On riding up to the village I saw them standing in the street; I bid them good morning, and went on to the church. When I was preaching, in they came, but took seats. I thought it was no time to be meally mouthed, hence I poured out the law and the consequences of sin with unmeasured severity. After sermon I began to administer the sacrament, and while on my knees, one fellow took off the loaf of bread, and another touched me on the shoulder, saying, "I wish to speak with you." When I arose, I told him, I would hear him when I was done. He then forbid my giving the sacrament to the negroes. I asked him, if any of them belonged to him? He replied, "No." "Yes," said I, "these upstarts are always the greatest opposers of religion." He then ordered the negroes out of the house, which broke up the meeting. About this time, the fellow that had taken the bread said, "if you will come out here I will give you the little end of this," holding up his whip. So I took my saddle-bags, and walked out. When I got out he said, "I suppose you have a heap of money in your saddle-bags," I replied, if I had, it did not belong to him. This, after all, they did not lay violent hands on me (96-97).
1801. Conference at Camden, January l. Brothers Thomas Darley, James H. Mellard, Benjamin Jones, William Jones, and Issaac Cook, were admitted on trial; and brothers Robert Gaines, William West, George Clark, Lewellin Evans, Rufus Wiley, and Josiah Cale, located. Until this conference, the whole work, both in South Carolina and Georgia had been superintended by one presiding elder, but now each state had its own district. I was appointed to the South Carolina district, extending from Charleston to the mountains, and from the Savannah to Cape Fear River (98-99).
The Guerry's, Muchatts, Remberts, and several other families, were Protestants called Huguenots, who fled from religious persecution in France, and settled on Santee, where they found a safe retreat from that intolerant spirit which induced them to leave their naïve land. From this circumstance the neighbourhood was called the French Settlement (101-102).
1802. Conference January St, at Camden again. We admitted on trial H. Porter, James Hill, and Samuel Mills. Jeremiah Norman located. The South Carolina district was divided this year into the Saluda and Camden districts. George Dougherty was put in charge of the former, and I of the latter (109). From this place I went to Union circuit, where brother Richardson preached on Saturday, and so much power attended his words I had well night fallen to the earth (109).
It will be seen, that thus far I have said nothing about camp meetings; indeed, until now, we had had none in this state. They were becoming quite common in some of the states, particularly in Kentucky and Tennessee; where they commenced about the year 1800, under the labours of William and John M'Ghee--the one a Presbyterian, the other a Methodist, minister. They unite their labours on their sacramental occasions, at which the work of the Lord broke out; and such were the gracious results of these meetings, that in a short time multitudes came from every direction: some prepared to remain only a day at a time, others in wagons to stay all night: and soon, others again put up small tents and camped during the meeting. It was not long before other ministers and communities, seeing the good effects of these meetings, were induced to hold similar ones for their own benefit, so that in two years their example was followed by nearly all our conferences (110-111).
The first ever held by the Methodists in this state was in June, of this same year, at the Hanging Rock. The particulars of these meetings may be seen by a letter which I wrote to Bishop Asbury soon after, as follows:--Camden, South Carolina, June 30th, 1803 (115).
The Methodists had another general meeting a few days past at the Hanging Rock. There were fifteen ministers, Methodist, Baptist, and Presbyterian, with about three thousand people. The work began in some degree on Friday night: The preachers were singing, praying, or preaching, all the night. Saturday evening it began again at the stand. Sabbath evening, at the close of the sacrament, some fell to the earth; and the exercise continued the whole night. Monday morning the people came together again, and began singing and exhorting: the Lord wrought again, and this was the greatest time. They were crying for mercy on all sides. One man, that had, on sabbath evening, been in a dreadful and unreasonable rage, at the close of this meeting the power of God brought to plead for mercy. I found him weeping; he had watered the ground with his tears. We judged twelve or fifteen had found peace A letter from Daniel Asbury informs me, he never saw such a work; and that he had joined fifty in going round the Yadkin circuit (116-117).
My next camp meeting was at Scarborough's meetinghouse, in Little Pee Dee circuit (119).
1803. Conference again at Camden, which commenced, as usual, on the first of January. We admitted James Crowder and John M'Vear at this conference; and Thomas Nelson and John Harper located. My time out of conference was almost wholly employed in receiving money from the preachers for the books they had sold; for in those days presiding elders were accountable for all the books sold in their districts (123-124).
This fall I attended a sacramental meeting in Georgetown. While brother Mellard was preaching, some persecuting sinners commenced talking near the door. This induced me to go and take my seat among them, which for some time made them look quite wild. But unwilling to be outdone, one said to his companion, "Joe, snuff that candle; it is so dark I can't hear." I ordered silence; but directly they commenced pushing the seat back, as though they would turn it over. I took the candle, and asked brother Wayne if he knew these fellows; for I thought of indicting them for disturbing us. This, however, did but enrage them, and soon after, during a prayer meeting at brother Wayne's they set fire to his house, which broke up the meeting, though the fire was soon extinguished (138).
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