USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with our policy of providing free information on the Internet, data may be used by non-commercial entities, as long as this message remains on all copied material. These electronic pages cannot be reproduced in any format for profit or other presentation. ========================================================================== MOORE'S HILL PAGE 403 Here, at a campmeeting, the Lord wrought wonders for me. It was doubtful with many whether I ought to preach, whether I ever could. It was resolved upon to give me an oportunity to show myself, and let all the people judge for themselves. I was to preach on Sabbath morning at sunrise, and brother Thomas Hitt was immediately to follow mewith one of his sweet, melting sermons, so as to cover my defeat and save the cause. Jacob-like, I wrestled all night with God in prayer, either to be set free or confused and silenced for ever. If it were not my duty to preach, why should I feel the woe upon me? I also knew that God could bring strength out of weakness - could thresh amountain with a worm; and what God willed, that I desired to do; and I yielded up my all to Him, to be determined by the morning service. Well, so it was that I astonished every body - myself, preachers and all; and such another shout in the camp you never heard. Even good brother Hitt publicly apologized for his embarrassment in having to succeed such a happy effect. And from that day to this, I have had a fair field, good audiences, and happy meetings. And my friends who stood out at first, (among whom was my good friend Judge Dunn) say I should preach more instead of less. That to me was a most propitious occasion, and the memory of it is sweet, and cheers my heart even to this day. We talk about forest cities, railroad cities, and the like. Well, Moore's Hill should be christened the "clergyman's village." Let me see, there are the Reverends Wood, Smith, Adams, Curtis,Prather, Spencer, Mapes, Connelly, Perine, and the stationed minister, in the bargain - all good men and true, right in Moore's Hill! Rev. John Dashiell had both of his legs broken at a time, but is now sound and well. John C. Moore, that excellent and useful man, had a little son which accidentally hung himself while at play, and was found dead. O, what a painful shock! The old citizens have mostly passed away. Rana C. Stevens, my early friend, and Dr. Bowers, and Collins, and Perine reside here. The Dashiells and others have removed, greatly missed and fondly cherished still. Good old Father Moore, of sainted memory, must not be unnoticed or forgotten. One of the earliest settlers, his house was a preaching-place, and a home for the preachers, for many long years. The church, the community, and even the world, owe much to the memory and to the labors of Father Moore. If not what might be called an eminent and eloquent preacher, he was an excellent and useful man. At a campmeeting upon his premises, the first temperance pledge was presented, and the first temperance society was formed in the county, at the instance of the sainted and beloved John Strange. Dr. H.J. Bowers, I believe, was elected the first president, and I was one of the officers. Father Moore took hold of the enterprise with a right hearty good will, and the result is, they have never yet had a low, filthy doggery in the place since. Father Moore's family have been right all the time upon the liquor question; but J.C. has made whisky-barrels "to Boston." In furnishing a true record, these things must come in; but it is also true that, a great personal sacrifice, J.C. Moore makes not another whisky-barrel. Progress and reform all the time. John C. Moore is one of the very best and most influential and useful men in the place. Friend Bowers says that their beautiful college is the result of temperance, and should be christened "Strange College." My ever-cherished friend, William J. McCreary, Esq., once had a fearful runaway here. And now, boys, for a bear story, to quit on. A Mr. Heath, more than forty years ago, was beset by a furious bear, right here in Moore's Hill. Alone in the depths of an unbroken forest, out of sight and hearing, he struggled for life and victory for two long painful hours. With his ax in his hands, and a large tree at his back, he kept her at bay, but could inflict no fatal blow. his heart oft failed him, and he nearly abandoned all hope, when a fortunate blow gave him the advantage, which he adroitly followed up, and then triumphed in deliverance - killed the old bear, and then two large cubs, and escaped unharmed, except much fatigued and much alarmed. A two hours' fight with a bear, right here in Moore's Hill, not far from the beautful church and college! Boys, think of that will you? Good old Mother Moore still survives. Barb Boese