"Father Clark," or The Pioneer Preacher

by John Mason Peck

In the summer of 1820, he made a preaching tour through the Boone’s Lick country to the extreme frontier settlement north side of the Missouri river, to a place called Bluffton. There was Dr. B. F. Edwards, a Baptist, with his young family from Kentucky, who received him cordially. No preacher of the gospel had then gone thus far in the vast west. Only a few families had reached that remote position, then on the border of the Indian country. There he preached the gospel in a small log cabin, and not even crowded with all the families within several miles.

In the Boone’s Lick country, as the central part of Missouri was then called, he found a number of Baptist families, who claimed affinity with the “Friends to Humanity,” and aided them in forming themselves into a church connection. In going and returning, he preached almost daily, as he passed from settlement to settlement.

For ten years before his death, he made a regular circuit, monthly, extending from Fox creek on the Merrimac, twenty miles, west-south-west from St. Louis, round by Coldwater, where was the church to which his membership was attached, and of which he was pastor. There, and near the Spanish pond, a settlement farther east, he held meetings for two, and sometimes three days in succession. At one period he crossed the Mississippi at a ferry a short distance below the mouth of the Missouri. That ferry being stopped, he turned down the course of the river to St. Louis, and passed over on the ferry-boat there. His route then was through the Six-Mile prairie, where he had a regular preaching station. From thence he occasionally diverged to Edwardsville, but more frequently went up the American bottom to Upper Alton, thence to Lofton’s prairie, Judge Brown’s, near the Maconpin, Carrollton, and above Apple Creek to a settlement called Henderson’s Creek, where he collected a small church. Returning, he would deviate from this route to visit other settlements, on the right or left, as occasion called. The whole distance on these routes and back to Fox creek, was about two hundred and forty miles, and in the excursion he preached from thirty to forty times.

Some three or four times each year he visited the churches and his friends in St. Clair, and Monroe counties. At that period a congregation could be gathered on any day of the week by timely notice.

The ferry-boat already noticed below the mouth of the Missouri, was destroyed in a flood, and the ferry not again established. Without knowing this, Mr. Clark started from the Spanish pond, intending to cross at this upper ferry, which would have been a gain of thirty miles. He was obliged to turn down to St. Louis. His appointment next day was at Judge Lofton’s, sixteen miles above Alton. Resolute on fulfilling his engagements, though threescore and ten years had brought on him the infirmities of age, he made his way by St. Louis, and crossed the ferry about dark. In traveling along the muddy pathway, in thick darkness, twenty-four miles to Upper Alton, through the dense forest of the American bottom, he became fatigued, and was repeatedly compelled to rest, by leaning against a tree. He reached the hospitable family of a Presbyterian friend at breakfast. He was excessively fatigued, and on inquiry, the family were astonished to learn he had traveled the whole night and preceding day. Regarding such an effort as an undue sacrifice from a feeble old man, his hospitable friend ventured an admonition that he should not expose himself. He received a response in the mildest language and intonations of voice,—“O, my dear brother, souls are precious, and God sometimes uses very feeble and insignificant means for their salvation. The people expect me to fill my appointments, and the only way was to reach here this morning. This is nothing to what our divine Master did for us.”

Mr. L., in rehearsing this incident, stated he felt humbled and rebuked at the patience, perseverance, and ceaseless energy of this old minister in the service of the Lord.[57]

He had walked eight miles to his customary crossing place on the river, thence eighteen miles to St. Louis, twenty-four miles to Upper Alton, and by two o’clock he was sixteen miles further, preaching to the congregation in Lofton’s prairie. This made sixty-six miles walking in a muddy path, without sleep, so consciously strict was he to fulfill his engagements.

The spring and early summer of 1824, were unusually wet, the rain poured down from the clouds almost daily, the mud was deep in the paths, and it was exceedingly difficult and unpleasant on foot. His friends in Missouri furnished him a small, gentle horse, called a pony, put on him a new saddle, bridle and saddle-bags, and after much persuasion induced Mr. Clark to mount, and ride his customary circuit. He consented, and was placed on the ambling pony, and, much to the gratification of his friends, started on his journey. He was troubled lest the horse should hurt himself, or hurt him. At every creek, pond and slough, he dismounted, threw his saddle bags over his own shoulders, took off his nether garments, as he was accustomed to do when walking, and carefully led the horse through mud and water, often three feet deep. The care of the animal distracted his thoughts, and, on his return, he begged his friends to take back the horse and relieve him from a burden that seriously interfered with his religious and ministerial duties.

When Sunday schools, Bible societies, and missions were brought before the people on these frontiers, he entered at once into these measures, and threw his influence in that direction. He carried a small Bible, or two or three Testaments, in his little wallet to supply the destitute families he visited. He took a deep interest in the first seminary in these frontier States, and encouraged his brethren to coöperate in the good work.[58]

When the first periodical that advocated the interests of religion, education, and social organizations for philanthropic purposes, was published and circulated in his range, his influence gave it impulse. He not only circulated periodicals and tracts among the people, but read such publications in the families he visited, and impressed the subjects on the minds of his listening auditors, by familiar conversation.