"Has
He a Horse?"
The
Saga of the Circuit Riders By Richard Rupp and Mark Minnick
Settlers on
the frontier had a saying to describe stormy weather: "There
is nothing out today but crows and Methodist preachers."
Certainly few preachers of the gospel have shown the courage and
perseverance of the Methodist circuit riders. They were agents
of the Great Awakening in the West, the establishers of Methodism
in this country, and most important, the messengers of the saving
gospel of Jesus Christ to thousands of lost souls.
Rooted and
grounded in love, settled and established in sound doctrine: but
in every else he should be as movable as a soldier on the land
or a sailor on the sea." Such was the philosophy that motivated
a group of America's hardiest frontiersmen, the circuit-riding
preachers. It is to the dogged persistence of the circuit riders
that Christians owe much for the intrinsically religious fiber
our nation retains today.
Souls
with Heavenly Fire
 Circuit
riding took its precedent from the fluid examples of Britons John
Wesley and George Whitefield, both of whom carried their ministries
from city to city. Wesley said, " The world is my parish,"
and the early Methodist itinerants showed every evidence of having
captured his spirit. It was largely the Methodist denomination
that made use of frontier circuit riders. The Presbyterian, Baptist,
and Congregational groups were characterized by ponderous progress,
a peculiarity that added much to the religious prominence Methodism
enjoyed in nineteenth-century America. One historian records that
in 1784 the Methodists had fewer than 15,000 members, 43 circuits,
and 83 itinerants. By 1844 the denomination had 1,069,000 members,
almost 4,000 circuit riders, and more than 7,000 local preachers.
Such a phenomenal growth in only sixty years was largely the result
of Methodism's practical structure. With the founding of a new
settlement, and ordinary layman would often take the initiative
in inviting his neighbors to his cabin for religious services.
A religious "society" would be formed and brought under
the "wing of a circuit rider who answered to a conference
bishop, the church official responsible for supplying several
circuits with preachers.
The arrangement
was flexible; yet it was this advantage that contributed heavily
to the strain endured by itinerants. There simply were not enough
preachers to man the circuits. Often a rider would have more than
two dozen preaching stations and spend as long as a month making
a single round. It is no wonder that Dr. Abel Stephens, a leading
Methodist historian, states: "Nearly half of those [circuit
riders] whose deaths are recorded [by the end of the eighteenth
century] died before they were thirty years old; about two thirds
died before they had spent 12 years in the laborious service."
Had these preachers been looking for an easy ministry they certainly
would have avoided the circuits.
 One
of the worst hardships of the itinerancy was the days of endless
travel. The book of Methodistregulations, The discipline, had
asa "rule of thumb" that the preachers rise at four
in the morning to allow time for travel. We might think that in
the desolate frontier a man might easily avoid such a technicality
and "sleep in" on occasion, but even had a rider wished
to bend such a rule the sheer bulk of miles between preaching
stations ruled out all possibility of indulging himself. And it
was not only the distance they traveled that strained the circuit
riders. The terrain itself was a rugged factor to be reckoned
with daily. A pioneer preacher in Louisiana wrote, " Every
day I travel I have to swim through creeks or swamps, and I am
wet from head to feet, and some days from morning to night I am
dripping with water. My horse's legs are now skinned and rough
to his hock joints, and I have rheumatism in all my joints…what
I have suffered in body and mind my pen is not able to communicate
to you." This would be a bleak commentary had the preacher
ended here, but hastening on he records, "But none of these
things shall move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself,
so that I might finish my course with joy.' " This was the
spirit that conquered America. That a circuit rider was in continual
peril on the lonely trails was a matter of course. That he might
be weary, burn with fever, or shake with the ague was insignificant.
Everything, including his very life, must be subservient to the
grand task of carrying the message of God's word.
An
Air of Establishment
The circuit-riding
preachers were in one sense the first to truly tame the wilderness.
To be sure, rugged souls ventured to build cabins and clear paths
through the forests, but the settlements never really lost their
wildness until the pioneers had a preacher. The desolate wilderness
could penetrate even the hardiest of pioneer spirits with discouragement
and despair, benumbing entire settlements. But with the arrival
of the circuit rider came an air of secure establishment that
bread confidence in the most forlorn surroundings.
 The
itinerant preachers themselves served the great influence they
held in fostering the moral constitution of America, and had it
not been for this sense of responsibility, they surely would have
deserted their posts. It was certainly not material prosperity
that kept them in the saddle. In principle the Methodists paid
their preachers, but the discrepancy between principle and practice
was sometimes tragedy. There are accounts of preachers selling
their boots to feed their families or parting with precious wool
top coats to pay for the shoeing of a lame horse. Henry Bascom,
a well-known West Virginian itinerant, traveled more than three
thousand miles and preached to more than four hundred congregations
during one particular year. For that service he received twelve
dollars and ten cents. In addition to sheer poverty, the circuit
riders were often placed in the worst accommodation; and yet no
matter how crowded, smelly, filthy, or insect-and-disease-ridden
the cabins, he was bound by the very nature of his calling to
accept his lodgings without complaint.
Such sacrifice
was not entirely without reward, and the names of such itinerants
as Bascom, James Axley, Francis Asbury, Jacob Young, and Peter
Cartwright became almost household words for the pioneers. At
times their recognition extended even to the political leaders
of the day. Cartwright tells an amusing story about Axley and
himself as guests of Governor and Mrs. Edward Tiffin of Ohio.
During the meal Axley acquired a number of bones on the side of
his plate. Seeing a dog in another room, the well-meaning frontiersmen
whistled for it and threw the bones on the floor next to the table.
The amused governor had difficulty repressing his laughter. Later,
when Cartwright told Axley that he had committed an error in etiquette,
Axley was chagrined. No one had better intentions than this rough-and-ready
preacher who had been looking forward sleeping for the first time
in a plastered house.
Perhaps the
greatest award, though, was seeing churches spring up all across
the land. Jess Walker, a circuit rider of the early nineteenth
century, entered St. Louis in 1818 with the words, " I have
come in the name of Christ to take Saint Louis, and by the grace
of the God I will do it." God was with him in his efforts,
for within a year he had a church of sixty members and a free
school for poor children. It was this same man who introduced
Methodism to a tiny settlement perched precariously on the south
shore of Lake Michigan in 1830; the cluster of cabins later became
known by a universally recognized name-Chicago.
Asbury's
Wide Circuit
 A
better insight into the life of an itinerant can be produced through
a glance at possibly the best known of all circuit riders-Francis
Asbury. For more than forty years this man of God braved the elements
day and night that he might turn the whole of America into one
great circuit.
Appointed
by Wesley in 1771 to fill the position of "general assistant"
for the work of Methodism in America, Asbury was twenty-six when
he entered the itinerancy. From that point, the name of Francis
Asbury dominated the American religious scene until his death
in 1816. Wherever he went new churches were formed, new circuits
laid out, and hosts of preachers rose to carry the gospel to remote
villages. He is described as roving anywhere. If a poor itinerant
was in trouble with local officials, Asbury was ready with personal
influence to protect him or with his purse to pay any fine. If
there was a man posted in an almost inaccessible region and in
want of fellowship, Asbury's path was sure to cross his so that
the lonely preacher might be encouraged. And wherever a little
band of adventures planted themselves in the forest they were
sure to soon be taken into Asbury's ever-extending circuit.
Asbury, like
most circuit riders, was without the benefit of higher education,
but his devotion to the Word and exercises in prayer were almost
without parallel. Having no place to study but the saddle, he
nevertheless gained a superior knowledge of both the Greek and
Hebrew testaments, and it is said that he was the intellectual
peer of all most any man he met.
In prayer
Asbury especially distinguished himself. There are records in
his Journal of set seasons for this devotion. During one period
he prayed for at least three hours everyday. Later he spent ten
minutes of every waking hour praying and wrote, " My desire
is that prayer should mix with every thought, with every wish,
with every word, and with every action, that all might ascend
as a holy, acceptable sacrifice to God.
At one point
in his ministry, Asbury was driven by sheer necessity to seek
a short rest near the White Sulphur Springs (now in West Virginia).
A friend recorded that during that vacation Asbury "[reads]
about one hundred page a day; usually prays in public five times
a day; preaches in the open air every other day; and lectures
in prayer-meeting every evening." Such a schedule for regular
pastoral duties is enough to bring consternation to most preachers,
but as a vacation the thought is intolerable!
Wives
of Rare Caliber
 Asbury
often recommended that his circuit riders give themselves to celibacy,
for the most taxed area of an itinerant's life was his family.
The meager income of most circuit riders made it impossible for
them to maintain families without " locating" when they
married. The majority took Asbury's advice and gave themselves
to lives of solitude, but for those who ventured to raise a family
the hardships of the ministry were compounded considerably. Though
he might reside in a given community, the preacher was still responsible
for a broad area, and even his residence had to be periodically
uprooted due to the two-year maximum any preacher was allowed
to spend on a given circuit.
Perhaps it
was the wife of such a man, though, who had the hardest lot. Stretching
pennies until they covered days and struggling to maintain the
barest semblance of a home amid constant activity called for a
woman of the rare caliber. The preacher himself could always fall
back on the exaltation of the preaching to fill his soul and compensate
for the loss of worldly goods and natural comforts, but for his
wife the loss of all security spelled an extreme test of dedication
and faith to meet each unpromising day with a thankful heart.
Hers was the task of serving while rarely seeing the results of
her husband's ministry for which she sacrificed so much.
Methodists
Everywhere
Despite the
hardships of the ministry, circuit riding seemed to attract the
strongest young men, and by the time of Asbury's death he had
seen hundreds join the ranks. The circuits were large, and the
1800s brought a tremendous surge in population; yet somehow the
Methodist itinerants appeared everywhere. An amusing example of
this is recorded from the life of a rugged preacher by the name
of Nolley, who was in a remote section of Mississippi when he
noticed some wagon tracks that appeared to be quite recent. No
circuit rider worth his salt ever ignored the possibility to make
a new contact; so Nolley followed the wagon tracks until they
ended in a fresh clearing. A settler had just a few moments before
he begun to unload his wagon. Nolley introduced himself to the
new family, but when the settler found out who the visitor was
he expressed the greatest disgust, exclaiming, " Another
Methodist preacher! I left Virginia for Georgia to get clear of
them. There they got my wife and daughter. So I come here, and
here is one before I can get my wagon unloaded!" My friend,"
said Nolley, " if you go to Heaven you'll find Methodist
preachers there; if you go to Hell I'm afraid you'll find some
there; and you see how it is on earth, so you had better make
terms with us and be at peace." The " before I can get
my wagon unloaded" incident became a standard joke at later
conference meetings. There's humor in the incident, but it also
indicates the splendid determination and spirit that played major
roles in taming this country.
The
Rider's Vision
In Washington,
D.C., stands the statue of a worn rider astride a weary horse.
The horseman is a bronze likeness of Francis Asbury, a tribute
to him and all the hundreds of young circuit riders who traced
the trails of early America. Faithfully rendered by the artist
with every detail of extreme exhaustion, the statue bears one
attribute that escapes all but the keenest scrutiny. Out from
under the brim of the low hat peer eyes alive with spiritual strength-eyes
so true to the character of circuit-riding preachers, for the
eyes reflect a sense of a great calling, dreams for a mighty nation,
and the indication of purpose to call a great country to devotion
to God.
"Has
he a horse?" was the query of the old Methodist bishops when
considering a new candidate. No preacher-carrying horses use the
roads of America today, but God have mercy on this land if she
lacks men with the vision of those who rode their horses so well.
Suggestions
for Further Reading
Peter Cartwright: .Autobiography of Peter Cartwright
Keith J. Hardman: "Apostles on Horseback: Francis Asbury
and the Methodist Circuit Riders" Christian History, vol.
8, no 3 pp. 22-23
The Spiritual Awakeners.
Charles A. Johnson :The Frontier Camp Meeting
L.C. Rudolph : Francis Asbury
Back
To Heritage Index
|
