IN A STRANGE LAND
Oct. 10, 1744. I went to John Bolles to see 4 men Yt come from beyond Barnegat, with long beards 8 or 9 inches, and strangely clothed, no hats and all in white, but they were not there.—Extract from diary of Joshua Hempstead, of New London.
From the hermit's hut we proceeded to New Brunswick, and by good fortune found, as though especially waiting for us, a vessel about to sail for New England. Our journey thus far had been mainly among friends; but now, even though we had a letter of introduction from our Barnegat brethren to the Rogerines in New London, we could not with all our faith and fortitude repress the dismal forebodings of trials and persecutions we should encounter there on account of our beliefs—all except Sonnlein, to whom this pilgrimage was full of marvel and delight, and now that he was about to go out upon the sea his joy knew no bounds, for verily he was born under Pisces.
But having put our hands to the helm we would not look back, and Brother Onesimus having secured passage for us we set sail, and barring that our good prior was most wretchedly seasick all of the voyage, while Sonnlein was sick but the first day, when he would have neither food nor physic, we landed near New London in less than a fortnight, safe and sound, hundreds of miles from home, in a strange country, no friends, and so despised because of our white dress and our otherwise monkish aspect that whoever saw us fled as though we were the plague.
Fortunately, our letter rescued us from much annoyance, for a prominent member of the Rogerines, Brother Bolles, hearing of our arrival came to us and on reading our letter received us affectionately and harbored us so hospitably, not far from the town, that we soon forgot our forebodings. And yet no sooner did our coming become known in New London than did a new danger arise against us, for the very day we landed the little seaport was wild with excitement over the news that France had joined issue with Spain against England. This coincidence coupled with our unusual manner and garb was too weighty a proof to be disregarded that we were Jesuit priests, French spies in disguise. Forthwith officers presented themselves at the quiet little homestead of our Brother Bolles, arrested us, and marched us into New London, and had all the threats hurled at us by the excited inhabitants while on our way to the justices been executed, we had been undone.
Happily our host, a respectable and influential citizen, personally vouched that we were Protestants by birth and profession, whereupon our freedom was at once given us, and we were once more taken in charge by the Rogerines of New London, by whom we were so held in kindness and esteem that whenever we stirred abroad we had in our train no less than fifty persons, among them black men—of whom Sonnlein was sore afraid, never having seen human beings of such color—and Indians, the former being servants, and for whose spiritual welfare their masters were as solicitous as of their own, which thing we much admired.
We found the people of this region in a state of great religious excitement, the Congregationalists and the New Lights being especially bitter against each other, so that wherever representatives of these beliefs came into each others' presence they did nothing but argue and dispute; and so far was this pernicious custom carried that when a Congregationalist met a New Light, unless both were deaf and dumb, they would seat themselves on chairs, while about these wordy knights of the gospel would gather the listeners, in a circle, disputants and listeners often giving vent to the most violent passions, all of which greatly shocked my brethren and me, yet showing us that, the world over, men are much the same when it cometh to difference in belief.
At the time of our visit they mostly disputed about the perseverance of the saints, and if the saints were as persistent in meek obedience and loving deeds as were these wordy warriors in their vociferous arguments, I have not the slightest doubt but that the saints have received rich reward. However, my brethren and I did all in our power, in patience and long-suffering, to allay the bitterness of this unseemly strife that left no peace whatever in this and the neighboring towns; and I rejoice to say our presence and persuasions did much toward this desirable end, for in all their heat they could not but see we had no other motive than to speak the truth, fairly and impartially, and with due consideration for the views of the contestants.
We soon grew to love and esteem our good Rogerine brethren, and I feel we endeared ourselves to them. We had much in common; we like them were regarded by the world as a peculiar people. Even the tolerant laws of Penn were not always sufficient to save us from persecutions, just as our New England brethren, because they conformed not to the beliefs in power, suffered fines, imprisonments, and even the awful indignity of public whippings for His sake.
Unlike us they practised not celibacy, but they held firmly to the doctrine of non-resistance and that the reading of set public prayers and preaching for pay was utterly unscriptural. They agreed also with us in regard to keeping the seventh day instead of the first, the administration of the Lord's Supper, and baptism by immersion. But like their Rogerine brethren on Barnegat Bay it was contrary to their tenets to employ physicians or to use medicines in case of sickness, although for ordinary ailments some of the less extreme Rogerines used the customary remedies and were excellent nurses, being ever ready to minister to the sick.
Having thus so much in common it would seem there should have been no danger of any serious disagreement between us, and yet it tried my brother pilgrims and myself sorely to prevent open rupture by reason of our being unable to admit all our good friends claimed as to the scriptural manner of healing. Finally, upon mutual promises that if any one on either side should become angry the discussion should stop immediately, we took up the question of healing.
Thus spake the Rogerine, calmly: "We base our beliefs on the teachings of the New Testament."
Brother Onesimus, similiter: "We also base our mode of life on the Bible."
Rogerine, still calmly: "The Almighty not only hath infinite power to cure diseases, but hath also blessed willingness so to do."
Brother Jephune, gently: "We admit the Almighty hath the power, but whether he hath the willingness we are not ready to say."
Rogerine, a trifle ungently: "The treatment the physicians give is bungling and dangerous and greatly uncertain. Were a dozen doctors to treat the same man that man would receive physic for twelve different diseases. Christ's cures were all perfect."
Brother Timotheus, graciously: "Truly should physicians be modest men, for theirs is a difficult art in that so many different diseases have similar symptoms. And yet we regard healing as an art, though imperfect as is all human art. Christ was perfect preacher as well as perfect healer, yet there be bungling preachers as there be bungling physicians."
Rogerine, positively: "Christ healed without physic and the disciples had his promise of such cures for all who asked in faith."
Brother Jabez, humbly: "Though Christ healed without physic, nevertheless he pointed to the use of natural means by the spittle on the blind man's eyes and washing in the pool of Siloam. Naaman bathed in the Jordan seven times. Is it not written we are created in his image? Doth that not mean that these wonderful bodies of ours and our surpassing marvelous minds were made to perform wonderful and marvelous things? Ye will also admit that not only did Christ heal the halt, the lame, and the blind, but that he also fed the five thousand with but a few loaves and fishes; Elijah was fed by the ravens; the widow's cruse of oil never failed. No doubt the Almighty hath power to heal us better than the physicians, who oft work in darkness, and to feed us better than the husbandmen, who are not always certain of their harvests."
Rogerine, indignantly: "Would ye ask of Him that while we sit here idle, with grain in the fields for bread, and abundance of fish in the sea for meat, we should expect him to feed us like idle, helpless children?"
Brother Jabez, smiling subtilely: "Why not? If with our God-like powers we do not search into the healing properties of the herbs of the fields and the salts of the earth, and try to heal ourselves, it seemeth to me we have just as much Scripture to sit still and let him feed us."
Rogerine, indignantly: "Brother, thy speech seemeth almost blasphemous. We hold our views from the Scriptures."
Brother Jabez, still mildly: "So do we; but it is with the Scriptures as in the law; he who sticketh to the letter loseth the true meaning. My beloved brethren, for indeed ye are so to us, he who readeth not God's holy word in the Spirit cannot understand it and findeth therein many inconsistencies and grounds for unsafe doctrines. We too believe that faith can perform miracles, but the Almighty never intended we should nourish and heal our bodies by dependence on miracles, or else would not he have given us these miraculous bodies and minds."
Rogerine, quietly: "We thank thee, brother, but are not convinced we are in error. Let us not imperil our love by useless argument."
"So be it," I replied, and thus the discussion was safely ended.
But so great was the faith of one of our Rogerine brethren, we were told, that when the smallpox raged in Boston some twenty years before, he journeyed one hundred miles to the infected city to prove his faith would save him from the terrible contagion; for it had been his custom for over forty years of his life to minister to those sick of that disease. This time, however, he caught the distemper, which developed after his return home and brought him to his grave, as well as two other members of his family; and in this connection, to show how we poor mortals are prone to carry our beliefs and doctrines to most foolish lengths it was also told me, by the Rogerine brethren themselves, and not by their enemies, that a few years prior to our visit a certain skin disorder had broken out among the congregation; but as their faith forebade the use of medicines they knew not what to do. In this predicament a church meeting was called to deliberate how they might get rid of the disorder and yet preserve a clear conscience. After a most prolonged meeting and the profoundest deliberations in which holy writ was thoroughly searched for precedent, it was solemnly resolved that this most uncomfortable disease, which we were told was the itch, was not a bodily ailment; but was a noxious animal which had burrowed into their flesh. Of course, there being in their belief nothing to prevent the destruction of wild animals the usual remedies for this particular species were accordingly applied, whereupon the "itchy beasts" were duly slain and eradicated, and the consciences of our pious brethren preserved.
From New London we made an extended visit to our Sabbatarian brethren of the Newport and Old Hopkinton churches, in the province of Rhode Island. Here too, our appearance created much excitement but fortunately provoked no arrest. Our visit here, like all our visits, was a season of great refreshing for our souls, and it is my belief that we helped and strengthened our brethren as they did help and strengthen us.
Upon our return from Rhode Island to New London we were entertained by our good brother Ebenezer Bolles, one of the town's wealthiest merchants. At that time he lived a single life, being a blessed virtuous man. We tried to persuade him to remain in this most perfect and holy state, but shortly after we left he married. Many years afterward we heard at Ephrata with great sorrow that he had passed away; that a few days before his death, being then in good health, he had been cutting some vines of the poison variety, whereby he was poisoned, and his body swelled to a great degree. He would not allow a physician to be near him; nor would he receive the most simple medicines. Just before he expired, when in great pain, he seemed desirous of some help, but the Brethren and Sisters would not allow it, lest he deny the faith.
I confess I was exceedingly displeased with myself that on our visit to our Rogerine brethren I had not spoken more strongly against their pernicious doctrine of the utter reliance on their so-called scriptural healing, for I doubt not the physicians could have saved Brother Bolles, even though ivy poison yields not easily to herbs or salts.
When we made known to our Rogerine friends our determination to depart for Ephrata, they insisted on paying our passage to the city of New York, and when the day at last arrived in which we were to leave this "fruitful garden of God," as it is referred to in our records, our departure was made a gala day in their little seaport, into which we had made so unpropitious an entrance. A large concourse of persons, irrespective of denominations, including many souls converted by us during our stay, accompanied us to the wharf, and after pressing upon us numerous gifts—so that we returned home richer than when we left—wished us a loving God-speed.
As our vessel passed out into the sound, even though we were returning to our beloved Kloster, we could not wholly subdue our sadness at parting with these dear friends, who so long as we were in sight wafted their blessings to us. I think none of us even spake a word so long as we could discern our friends; but favorable winds soon swept us from their view, and then as we turned to each other again each of us, even Sonnlein, expressed his sorrow in a deep sigh.
With the exception that Brother Onesimus, who was but a poor waterman, was seasick again all the voyage, nothing worthy of note occurred until we set foot in the chiefest city of the province of New York, where our monastic garb again attracted much attention and suspicion, so that we were arrested as Jesuits from New Spain; and again a kind gentleman, a justice, knowing our circumstances, interceded so effectually we were promptly released, whereupon we shook the dust of that city from off our feet and immediately started on our long journey for Ephrata, by way of Philadelphia, and it was not long when we were at New Brunswick again, whence we journeyed by foot to Trenton, where we crossed the Delaware and soon were in our own Philadelphia, among dear friends. Here we stopped for a few days with our Brother William Young, to rest before continuing our journey to Ephrata, which still lay ninety miles to the west, only that Sonnlein, with his ceaseless activity and insatiate boyish inquisitiveness, gave himself no rest whatever, but must be continually about this great city, especially at the wharves, where the incoming vessels, with their cargoes from all lands under the sun, were to him a perpetual wonder.
Our rest in this great, noisy, worldly city being at an end, for which I was not sorry, though our brother did all he could for our comfort and entertainment, we set out over the king's highway for Lancaster, whence we intended to reach Ephrata by way of the Reading road, for the season being now late we could not risk the less traveled ways, for even the best highways were now in a difficult condition. Sonnlein, however, being by this time such a veteran pilgrim, seemed not to mind what to our prior, and Brother Jephune particularly, was a most tiresome journey, our worthy sky-gazing brother floundering into every muddy bog in our way.
When we reached Lancaster we were, with all our endurance, so worn out we were necessitated to make another brief stop, but as soon as our bodies would obey our wills in any wise cheerfully, we started again for Ephrata, arriving weary and footsore within sight of Mount Sinai just as the sun was setting behind the hills. Falling on our knees we offered up to our Father our heartfelt thanks for our safe return, for indeed it was much to be thankful for that after our long wanderings we all had been brought back as safe and well, albeit a trifle weary and worn, as when we had started on our pilgrimage.
A little farther on we made a short stop with one of the house-fathers, as the brethren of our secular congregation were called, intending to time ourselves to arrive at Zion for the midnight devotions, once more to be enraptured by the strains of celestial music from the lips of our beloved brothers and sisters.
Our good house-father and his family were minded to make a great ado about our gaunt and haggard features, as though we had passed through great tribulations little less than martyrdom, all of which sympathy, though we liked not to confess it, was sweeter to our ears than even the voices of our choiring Brothers and Sisters, only I could not see how Sonnlein merited any great compassion, for the rogue, though he fared like the rest of us, looked as ruddy and healthy as any of our good house-father's chubby, rosy children who swarmed about us inquiringly, not fearing us in the least, which thing pleased us greatly, for we did not like to be dreaded by the little ones.
When we thought it time to leave for the midnight services, our brother's little ones being long before with all their unquenched curiosity packed to bed, we started, as usual, in single file for the Kloster, Sonnlein lagging a few steps behind me.
We had almost reached the Kloster confines when, while our way was yet under the dark shadows of the overhanging trees that shut out the stars, I heard a scuffling noise behind me, and turning quickly saw Sonnlein in the grasp of some dark shape that was striving against all his squirming and fighting to drag him into the thick woods. Without a thought I hurled my pilgrim staff, with all my strength, lance-like into the bushes 'gainst the beast or being hanging over my boy, and then for a moment closed my eyes with an awful fear my staff might crush him; but it had hardly left my hand when a piercing cry of agony cleft the air, and then, retreating from us, came fainter and fainter a moaning and snarling as when some desperate beast receives a mortal wound.
We found Sonnlein lying limp and almost lifeless by the way, and as we gathered about him and one of us struck a light from our tinder box, I saw my boy's throat was scratched and torn and bleeding, but happily not profusely.
"'Twas such a devil's cry we heard when we saw the comet, dost remember?" whispered Brother Jephune hoarsely, for the matter had startled us greatly.
"What wast, Sonnlein?" I asked him now that he had come somewhat to his senses and was on his feet, for beyond the choking and fright he seemed not much hurt.
"'Twas some beast with great claws caught me by the throat so I could not cry for help," he replied all in a quiver.
"Well, it hath gone now; no doubt my staff struck it right fairly. Get on my back while I carry thee; we must make haste else shall we be late," said I, first marking the spot with my eyes where I had hurled my staff.
Great was the surprise of our dear brothers when we filed silently into the Saal, Sonnlein having come down from my back, for we arrived wholly unannounced. After the loving greetings were exchanged over and over, our superintendent ordered a general love feast in Peniel for the following Sabbath to celebrate our safe return and to listen to our report, we having kept an exact diary of our pilgrimage. A full account of the whole journey was written from this diary and the doings of each of us, except Sonnlein, which he minded not in the least, being too young for such older weakness. This account was then handed over to our superintendent and became the property of the Brotherhood.
After the events of this pilgrimage were over, we each resumed his usual work and devotions as calmly as though we had not been so long away, only that the day after we arrived I easily found the bushes into which I had with such unchristian violence hurled my staff. I found my traveling comrade lying full length in the depths of the wayside thicket. The iron point was reddish like as if with blood, but I could find no ghastly trail of blood leading away from the staff, but after close examination of the soft earth I did find what I believed were the prints of a woman's shoes, for I knew they were not those made by Sonnlein.
Could it be that our old enemy, the witch, had done this thing? Who or what was this baleful influence that hung over our sacred Kloster like some foul miasma? Did this being merely embody the evil that must ever be present in all earthly things? Whence came it? No matter how I turned it over and over in my mind I could not solve the mystery. So far, though our paths had frequently come close to the other, they had not yet crossed in direct conflict, and yet I felt, and even longed, that some day I should come face to face with the sphinx and either she or I be destroyed. There had never seemed any disposition to seek direct injury to me, and yet of all our Brotherhood I apparently was chosen to witness most of her hellish manifestations. Why? I could not tell, for surely I knew not I had ever wittingly injured any one.
So weighted down was I by my unexplainable dread that for many a day I had little inclination for work or study or prayer. I could see too, that Sonnlein, though he and the rest knew naught but a wild beast had flown at him, was greatly impressed when I warned him he must not wander into the woods until he was older and abler to take care of himself against the beasts, which warning, it eased my mind much to observe, he heeded as well as a strong, healthy boy can heed anything.