In the brush

by Hamilton W. Pierson

OLD-TIME ILLITERATE PREACHERS IN THE BRUSH.

I have very often thought that the best work that could possibly be prepared in favor of an educated ministry, would be to send stenographers through those States where the census reveals the greatest amount of ignorance, to make verbatim reports of sermons that are actually preached, and publish them in a volume. Such a book would be the most remarkable exhibition of ignorance ever printed. Any one who has not traveled extensively will be astonished to learn of the great number of altogether unlearned and ignorant preachers who minister regularly to large congregations. I have found that the deeper I got into the Brush, and the denser the ignorance of the people, the greater was the number of preachers. I have seen a surprisingly large number of people who knew very little of the world, and a great deal less of books, to whom the honors of a preacher were very attractive. I say "honors," for the emoluments were so small that they had very little weight in the matter. I have known them to urge their own claims, and "electioneer" with others for years, and with the greatest pertinacity, in order to secure licensure and ordination. Some of them could not read at all, and many could read a verse or chapter only with the greatest difficulty, and miscalled a large number of the longer words.

I penetrated a wild region among the hills, and my own observations and the explorations that I caused to be made secured for it the undoubted and undesirable preëminence of being the banner county for ignorance and destitution of the Bible of all those that I visited. In some manner that I do not now remember, on my first visit I was directed to call upon one of the preachers of the county, who would coöperate with me in making arrangements to have it canvassed and supplied with the Bible. I found his house among the hills in the midst of a vast, dense forest, surrounded by a small clearing or "dead'ning," which was planted with corn and tobacco. He was rather a short, thick-set man, with a powerful, muscular frame, and very quick and active in his movements. On riding up and introducing myself, he gave me a very cordial welcome to his home. It was a log-house, rather larger and higher than was usual in the region; but it was without chambers, and from floor to roof all was a single room. His family, including wife, mother-in-law, and children, numbered an even dozen. I spent the night with them, partaking of such food, using such knife, fork, and dishes, and occupying, with others, such a bed as I can not well describe, and I am sure my readers will not be able to imagine. But I had by this time become so accustomed to this kind of life in the Brush, that, if not pleasant and agreeable to me, it was at least not strange. Not long before, in a similarly wild region, in an adjoining county, I had slept in a much smaller cabin with one room, where the man and his wife and mother-in-law and four children, with another visitor besides myself, occupied three beds. I shared one of them, upon a very narrow bedstead, with the visitor, a neighbor who had called in for a social visit, as rough and tough-looking a long-haired backwoodsman as one often meets, dressed in butternut; and a "chunk of a boy," as his father called him, about a dozen years old, who was placed in the bed between us, with his head at our feet, and ex necessitate his feet not far from my head. It is a kind of lodging that can be endured for a night, as I know from positive experience. But I am not prepared to recommend it.

When I arrived at this house, which was about dinner-time, I found the children parching corn in a spider. The father was absent, and it was necessary for me to remain until he returned. The mother made no movements toward getting dinner, and said nothing about it, which was a very unusual thing in my experience. At length the children brought to me some of the corn, which was parched brown, but not popped. I had by this time become satisfied that this was to be their only dinner, and ate some of it with them. The father returned in a few hours, and urged me to spend the night with them, which in the circumstances I was glad to do; I could easily have gone farther and fared worse. He soon took a bag and went through the woods a mile or two to a neighbor's, and returned with some corn-meal and a piece of bacon. The entirely empty larder being thus replenished, a meal was soon cooked, and I sat down to what was to me both a dinner and supper of corn-dodger and fried bacon. I called upon some of the families in this neighborhood, and some months after met one of the young ladies at the county-seat. In talking with her in regard to this visit, I said:

"I was told that a number of the young women in your neighborhood can not read."

"Oh!" said she, "there are but two there that can read."

And yet I was told that there were two or three resident preachers there, but I had not time to call upon them. As the kind of food and lodging that I have described were so common to me, the chief "variety" that was the "spice" of my itinerant "life" was in the varied characters that I met. And I rarely found this "spice" of intenser flavor than in my own profession, among some of the preachers that I found in the Brush. The one that I had sought out, and with whose family I had spent the night, was one of the most remarkable of his type with whom I became acquainted.

In the morning he mounted his horse and rode with me to visit and confer with several of the leading citizens of the county in regard to its exploration, and to spend the following day, which was the Sabbath, in visiting two different and distant congregations, for the purpose of presenting the matter to them, and "lifting collections" in its aid. We rode several miles through the woods, only occasionally passing a small cabin and clearing, and made our first call at a log-house, where my clerical friend and guide was evidently a very great favorite. Here we were urged to have our horses put in the stable, and remain to dinner. We assented to this, and arrangements were at once made for convening a Bible committee, at a house in the neighborhood, that afternoon, and for religious services in the house at which we had stopped to dine that night. The husband and children at once started out to circulate these notices, and the wife began her preparations for our dinner. She was apparently about thirty years old, above the medium size, in a region of country where the most of the women were very large, with a bright, pleasant face, a cheerful, happy disposition, and very cordial and enthusiastic manners. The log-house, though not of the best, was decidedly of the better class; and our dinner, both in its quality and the manner in which it was served, was a great improvement upon my breakfast, and the supper the night before. It was a happy group. Conversation was cheerful and animated, and geniality and joy glowed in all faces and pervaded all hearts. Some time after dinner I started with my clerical friend on foot through the woods to meet the Bible committee. After a pleasant interchange of views, we appointed a colporteur to canvass the county, and adjourned. At once we received earnest invitations from different ones to go home with them to supper. They were unwilling that the family upon which we had first called should monopolize the pleasure and honor of entertaining us. I left my clerical friend to settle this matter, and we went a mile or two in another direction, where we were hospitably entertained at supper. We then returned to the house where we had dined, and it was soon filled with people, who had assembled upon this brief notice. It was arranged that instead of a sermon a chapter should be read, and each of us should occupy a portion of the time in brief addresses. My friend read the chapter. I was astonished. I had never heard the like at any public religious service. Many of the words were mispronounced and entirely miscalled, and it would have been difficult to understand what was meant, from his reading of the passage. But both his reading and remarks were very well received, and I saw no one who seemed to notice that there was anything out of the way with either. I followed him with some remarks, and the meeting seemed to be greatly enjoyed by all. Then began a very spirited contest as to where we should go and spend the night. There were many claimants for the honor.

"You must go home with me," said one.

"No," said another, "you had Brother A—— when he was here, and you can't have these preachers. They must go with me."