In the brush

by Hamilton W. Pierson

In this field I have garnered many rich and golden sheaves, where no other reaper had ever thrust in the sickle. Here I have drawn word-pictures of many scenes in the social life of a generation, and a state of civilization, rapidly passing away, never to reappear, that otherwise would have had no memorial only as perpetuated in the traditions of the people. I will only add that I am indebted to no library, to no book, not even to a newspaper, for a single fact presented in this volume. They were all gathered incidentally while laboriously engaged in the duties of my profession, as a general agent of the American Bible Society, and while traveling for years in the interests of the college over which I was called to preside. They all relate to the ante-bellum period in the history of our country.

CHAPTER II.

MY OUTFIT FOR MY LIFE IN THE BRUSH.

Having received my commission as an agent for the American Bible Society, and completed my preparations for entering upon my work as far as I could do so in New York, I left that city for one of the important cities of the Southwest, which was to be my headquarters. I knew at the outset that I could not reach the wild regions I was to explore by railroad, steamboat, stage, or even with my own private conveyance; I knew that I could climb hills and mountains, follow blind bridle-paths, ford rivers and swollen streams, only on horseback. I had several years before had some two years' experience in constant horseback travel in labors similar to those I was now entering upon, as superintendent of the colporteur operations of the American Tract Society in Virginia. There I had floundered in the marshes and swamps of "Tidewater," and been lost amid the rugged rocks and dense forests high up the sides and in the loftiest summits of the Blue Ridge and other mountains. I knew that I must have a horse. This was indispensable. More than that, I wanted a good horse, a horse broken expressly for the saddle. To be churned for years—bump, bump, bump—upon a hard-trotting horse, that was out of the question with me. I had but a small stock of health and physical strength at best, and none to spare in that way. My old friend Rev. Dr. Sprole, then of Washington, D.C., afterward of West Point, New York, and now of Detroit, Michigan, used to tell me, in Washington, that "Brother Leete," one of my co-workers in the circulation of the publications of the American Tract Society, "was one of the most self-denying Christians he had ever seen—in that he had patience to drive such a miserable old horse in transporting his books over the hills and mountains of Pennsylvania," where he had known him. But I was not anxious to illustrate that particular type of piety. I did not care to let my "light so shine." I wanted not only a good saddle-horse, but a faithful, reliable animal. I wanted one that I could hitch to the limb of a tree, in the midst of scores or hundreds of other horses, and leave there without any concern, while I preached in a log meeting-house, or at a "stand" erected in a grove at some cross-roads, or at a camp-meeting, or wherever else I should be able to meet and address the people. I wanted a hardy horse, that could live on the coarsest food, and stand during the coldest nights in log stables that afforded but a little more protection from the wind and cold than a rail fence. I wanted an easy-going, fleet horse, that would take me, without great personal fatigue or needless waste of time, over a wide extent of country. I wanted a horse that would scare at nothing—that, as I had opportunity, I could lead up a plank or two, on board a noisy stern-wheel or other Western steamer, along the banks of the rivers, across wharf-boats, or wherever I might wish to embark for a hundred miles or more to save a few days of horseback travel.

The "qualities" that I looked for in a horse were numerous and rare. I was so fortunate as to find one that possessed all that I have enumerated and many more. Was I not fortunate? Was I wrong in regarding my good fortune as a special providence? But I did not easily find this treasure. It was after a long search and many failures. Unable to find such a horse as I was willing to purchase at once, I determined to enter upon my work and get along for a time as best I could.

I therefore took stage for a point about fifty miles from headquarters, where, after a conference with the officers of the County Bible Society, I procured a horse for several days in order to plunge into the Brush, make a circuit of the county, and preach at a number of places in accordance with a programme that their familiarity with the country enabled them to make out for me. They arranged to send my appointments ahead to all these points but one, where I was to preach the next day, which was the Sabbath.

I will here state that the great object of my mission to the Brush was to effect a thorough exploration of the field assigned to me, and, either by sale or gift, supply every family with a copy of the Bible, except such as positively declined to receive it. To accomplish this, I wished to gain personal knowledge of each county, to preach at as many points as possible, in order to give information in regard to the character and operations of the American Bible Society and the work to be done, collect as much money as possible to meet the expenses of this work, find and employ suitable men to canvass the counties and visit without fail every family, and then order a supply of Bibles and Testaments from the Society's house in New York, give them their instructions, and set them at work. Such was my mission.

Saturday, after dinner, I mounted my horse for a ride of thirteen miles to a small county-seat village where I was to spend the Sabbath. The country was rough and broken, with light, sandy soil, sparsely covered with small, scrubby oak-trees, called "black-jacks," and the region of country was known as the "Barrens." It was barren enough. The houses were mostly poor and comfortless, the barns small log structures, with no stables, sheds, or covering of any kind for the cattle. They were poor and scrawny, and their backs described a section of a semicircle as they drew themselves into as much of a heap as possible—their only protection against the bleak February winds. The swine were of the original "root-hog-or-die" variety, their long, well-developed snouts being their most prominent feature. Occasionally black, dirty, ragged slaves—"uncles," "aunties," and their children—revealed the whites of their eyes and their shining ivory as they stared earnestly at the rare sight of a passing stranger. No one, with the kindest heart and the most amiable disposition, would be able to pronounce the country attractive or the ride a pleasant one. On arriving at the village, I rode to a very plain house to which I had been directed, and received a most warm and cordial welcome. Large pine-knots were soon blazing and roaring in the ample fireplace to relieve me of the most wretchedly disagreeable of all sensations of cold—those of a damp, clammy, chilly winter day in the Southwest. As soon as it could possibly be prepared, I was seated with the family at a bountiful supper. The aroma of the richest coffee was afloat in the air, and the rarest of fried chicken and hot corn-bread were smoking before me, flanked with a superabundance of other dishes, that showed the perfect country housekeeper.

My host and hostess were Presbyterians, and this was the reception they gladly gave to any minister who visited them in their seclusion, and preached for their little church. The bell was rung, and I preached that (Saturday) night to a very small audience who assembled at this brief notice. The church stood within a very few rods of the spot where Abraham Lincoln was born.

On Sabbath morning a somewhat larger congregation assembled from the village and country around, including some from the homes I had passed the day before, and I made a full exposition of the character and operations of the American Bible Society, explained the work about to be undertaken in their own county, and made as urgent and eloquent an appeal as I was able to, for funds to supply their own poor with the Bible, and meet the expenses of this benevolent and Christian work. To adopt the language universal in all this region, they "lifted a collection" for me which amounted to six dollars and eighty-five cents. At 3 P.M. I heard a sermon preached by the clergyman, my kind friend and host at the other county-seat, who, according to arrangement, came over to spend the Sabbath with me, and fill a regular appointment. At night I preached for them again. Altogether it was to me a very pleasant day.