On one occasion during the war I went into Floydsburg, on the morning after Christmas day. There was a little squad of Confederates there, belonging to the command of Col. Jessee, of New Castle, Ky. One of them was a boy, named Hall, who went from that neighborhood. The rest were strangers. I was introduced to the lieutenant in command, and had some talk with him. The main street of the town runs east and west. About the middle, the Brownsboro road comes in from the north, at a right angle. This comes down a "branch" which crosses the main street. At the east end of town the road descends into another hollow. Some of the soldiers were inside, some sitting outside, of a blacksmith shop, and some on their horses. I had walked near the east end, till I was just on the ridge between the two hollows. I was standing at the door of Col. Wilson, talking to his wife, when several companies of negroes, stationed at La Grange under the command of white men, came marching into town. They were a terror to the whole country. A little negro boy, chopping wood just at the east edge of town, informed the commander, who was riding in front, that the rebels were at the shop. Instantly everything was quieted, and a stealthy march for the shop began. From my position I could see both parties, and that the rebels were wholly unsuspecting. While they were nothing to me, and I had but little sympathy with them, for they were not in the regular service, I could not stand and see them surprised and shot. I determined to warn them. Mrs. Wilson tried to dissuade me, assuring me that it would be certain death. I confess I could see it in no other light myself, yet I could not decline. I walked down the street with an unconcerned air, about forty yards in advance of the company. The lieutenant was sitting on his horse sidewise, with his face turned from me, talking to a Presbyterian preacher. I could see the eyes of the preacher over the shoulders of the horse, but he was looking up into the face of the other man, and I could catch the eye of neither. Finally, I had to stop and make lively demonstrations in the face of the whole negro command. When the attention of the Confederates was attracted, they endeavored to escape by the Brownsboro road, and a charge from the other company was instantly ordered. Each company opened fire on the other. I was on the side of the street next to the Brownsboro road, and hence thrown into all of the crossfire. I stood perfectly still till the entire colored company passed by me. One man fell within a few feet of me, and afterwards died. They had a running fight till they got out of hearing. They caught young Hall, the only one I knew, and killed him. Notwithstanding the agreeable disappointment at not finding myself killed, I concluded that it might not be healthy to stay around there. The town contained one of the most unprincipled white men that ever went unhung. He was a sneak thief, and made it his business to get Southern men into trouble. I saw him watching me all the time. I concluded, therefore, that it would be better for me to leave town before the soldiers got back. I had not gone more than a mile when they returned, and threatened to burn the town if I was not produced. They were watching me from the first, and the only thing that saved me was they concluded that they could attend to me after they got through with the rebels. They were told that I had left town, and were put on the wrong road in search of me. I was then notified, and my holiday visit terminated suddenly.
When I think now of the many narrow escapes from death before I was a child of God, a number of which are not recorded, my heart overflows with gratitude for the kind Providence that spared me till I knew the way of life and had the precious promises of God. An ungodly man may be brave, and face death without a tremor, but only a child of God can face certain death as it comes on apace in the stillness of the sick chamber, and when the body is wasted with disease, in perfect composure and even inexpressible joy.
CHAPTER XI.
He Abandons the School-room. Remarkable Meeting near Alexandria. Incidents. Establishes a Church. Mischief-making Preachers. Long and Severe Attack of Typhoid Fever. Does not Lose Hope. Gratitude.
After teaching a year, I decided to abandon the school-room and give myself wholly to the preaching of the Word. In the summer of 1865 I did some mission work in Boone county, under the direction of the State Board. In August, I held a meeting in Campbell county, about five miles from Alexandria. The circumstances were a little peculiar. The Baptist meeting-house in Alexandria had been blown down, and they were using our house, at our invitation, every Lord's day afternoon, till they could rebuild. They had a house about five miles in the country, and a large congregation. Nearly the whole community were Baptists, and they claimed a kind of preëmption. We had not a member in the neighborhood. I was exceedingly anxious to hold a meeting in the very center of this stronghold, and thought that as they were using our house, they would grant me the use of theirs; but they would not. They offered to let me have it for one sermon, but not for a protracted meeting. This did not suit my purpose; and as there was an old log school-house near by, I made an appointment for a meeting in this, which was to begin on Sunday afternoon; and a few friends went with me from town. When we arrived at the place, not a soul was on the ground; so having waited after the time, and no one coming, I decided at once that the Baptists had reported the appointment withdrawn, so that when I came and found no one, I would be disgusted, and return home. But I was not disposed to be defeated in that way. There was no brother in reach with whom I could stay, but I told the friends to go back to town and leave me, and that I would hold the meeting, "if I had to sleep in the woods, live on pawpaws, and drink out of the 'branch.'" So they left me.
There was a man living about a mile away whom the Baptists had excluded about a year before, and who had no good feeling for them. Concluding that that would be the best chance for shelter, I went to the house, and learned from him that the appointment had indeed been countermanded, just as I suspected. He promised me food and shelter while I held the meeting. A number of neighbor boys were there with his, and these were told to circulate the appointment for next night. The following day he and I went and cleaned the house, putting in some "anxious seats," fixing it to hold as many as possible. He sent his boys out through the neighborhood notifying the people, and that night we had about thirty present. The next night the house was full; and from this on we had large audiences, day and night. In a few days we built an arbor in front, and seated it; then, standing in the door, I preached to those within and without. The meeting continued two weeks, and resulted in fifty-two additions. Twenty-seven of these were from that Baptist Church, and the rest by confession. A few of the twenty-seven, the man with whom I lodged among the number, were not in the fellowship of the church at that time.
Several incidents occurred during the meeting. A very wicked man began to attend, and one night he felt that he could stand the fire no longer; but as I was in the door, preventing his escape in that direction, he leaped out of a window, and ran off into the woods. In about ten minutes he came crowding in from the outside, to make the confession.
A Baptist man became interested in the meeting, but his wife was so bitter in her feelings that she would not attend. He finally prevailed upon her to come. Going home, he asked her how she liked it. "Better than I expected," was the reply. No more was said, but the next day she came without persuasion. When asked the same question, she said, "They don't preach what I thought they did." He was anxious to unite with us on the Bible, but was waiting in the hope of getting her to come with him. The next day she was in the house and he on the outside, and he did not know till the meeting was over that she had come forward and been received into the fellowship.
At this meeting a gentleman came and asked me to marry him that night after the services should be over. I told him I could not, as I had not obtained license to marry. He then asked if I would object to his getting a Methodist preacher who lived several miles away. That night there was a great crowd, and I saw nothing of the preacher, but while we were singing an invitation song a gentleman came pushing in, and gave me his hand. I thought, of course, he wanted to make the confession, and I tried to seat him with the others who had come forward; but he would not. He soon became excited, and, tearing himself loose, forced his way into the crowd. Just then some one whispered to me that that was the Methodist preacher. It was a long time before the services closed, and he was still so embarrassed that it was with great difficulty he performed the required ceremony. He hurried away without speaking to me, and then sent his apology, stating that he was so mortified over his blunder that he could not speak to me about it that night.