Local History: Robert Willson, 1856: Rockbridge County, Virginia and Kanawha, Kentucky.

Contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by James W. McCluer, repa@worldnet.att.net

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"Kanawha Pieces", by Old Man of Kanawha, pp. 348-363; Southern literary messenger,
volume twenty two, no. IV, May 1856, Richmond, Virginia, T.W. White [etc.].


				"LITTLE BOBBY WILLSON"

  The reader must not suppose that Mr. Willson was a contemptible person, because
we gave him the nickname by which he was distinguished in his native county of
Rockbridge.  The Willsons were numerous there, and followed the too frequent custom
of naming children after their kindred, till some distinctive epithet became
necessary.  Robert was one of these ambiguous names among them.  Hence one noted
for size was called Big Bob; a less one Little Bob, and the least of the Bobs, the
subject of this sketch, was called Little Bobby.  Being not only very small, but
delicately constituted, and gentle as a lamb in his temper, Little Bobby, in the
mouths of those who knew him, was an appellation, not of distinction, but of
endearment.  This lamb-like gentleness of temper was connected with a remarkable
timidity arising, no doubt from a consciousness of his physical ability to cope with
his fellow men in traits of body strength.

  He was educated at Washington College, in his native county, and proved by his
fine scholarship and talents, that his corporeal effeminacy detracted nothing from
the powers of his mind.  He became a pious and able minister of the gospel in the
Presbyterian Church, to which his parents belonged.

  Believing that he could find a more useful field of labor in the new country of
Kentucky than in the old settlement of Virginia, he made a journey to the west, on
horseback, at an early period of the present century.  He took the Kanawha route in
preference to that by East Tennessee, it being considerably shorter to the upper
settlements of Kentucky, to which his journey was directed.

  It was a bold undertaking for a little man like him to travel alone through the
wild woods and wild inhabitants between Greenbriar, in Virginia, and Maysville in
Kentucky.  Kanawha was yet a new and little improved country.  The inhabitants,
sparsely strung along the river valleys, had not generally passed from the hunter
into the agricultural state;  the majority were yet rude in their manners and
disorderly in their habits.  Religious institutions were in their infancy.
If there was a church edifice in the country, it was like the dwelling of the people,
a log cabin.  There were a few small societies of Baptists---not over two or three
in the Kanawha valley.  Those enterprising and useful pioneers of religion, the
Methodist travelling preachers, had scarcely begun to visit the country.  One Baptist
preacher only resided in the country, and fulfilled the duties of pastor, a Mr.
Johnson, who will be mentioned again presently.

  The moral state of the country was quite bad, but its reputation abroad was worse.
Judging from the exaggerated reports current in the Eastern part of Virginia, Little
Bobby Willson must have believed, when he left Rockbridge, that his journey through
Kanawha would be very disagreeable and somewhat dangerous to him as a man, and more
so as a minister of the gospel, considering especially, that he was feeble, and
little qualified to make his way through a rough country and a rougher population.

  But he passed safely through the wilderness of Sewel and Gauly mountains, and
on a Saturday evening, arrived at the first inn that he had found in Kanawha valley,
---Old Billy Morris's.

  Old Billy Morris, as everybody called him, because he had a son called Young Billy,
---was one of seven brothers, who were the first settlers in the country.  They were
a family of lrge, brave and worthy men, all, except Old Billy, hunters, while hunting
was the chief occupation of the country, but quiet and industrious farmers, after
they had farms large enough to yield them subsistence.

  Old Billy differed from his brethren both in body and mind.  They were tall and spare
made;  he was less tall, and corpulent. They were not, but he was, remarkable for energy
and strength of character.  He was born to command, --- as much so as Napoleon Bonaparte,
though in an humbler sphere.  All the poor men, and ordinary men around him for miles,
fell naturally, as it seemed, under his authority.  He ordered and they obeyed.  He
reprimanded, often severely;  they submitted, nearly always humbly.  He made them fear
him, though he had no power over them but the moral power of a strong mind.  He made them
love him also with a sort of filial affection; though neither they nor anyone else
could tell why, for he was often gruff in speech, overbearing in manner and when he
exercised kindness towards his neighbors, he did it often more as a master than as a
friend.  But then when he chose, he had a masterly way of showing kindness, making the
recipient feel more gratitude than if they had received the same favor from another man.
In truth, he had a strong heart with an imperious will, and loved and hated with a
power which was always felt by those around him.  To his children he was very kind, and
to his neighbors who did not oppose him or offend his prejudices, he was a good neighbor,
---a remarkably good neighbor.

  He had sagacity in matters of business.  While others hunted bears, he acquired choice
lands, improved his farm, erected mills and built flat boats for families emigrating to
Kentucky; by which means he became the wealthiest man among the primitive settlers in
Kanawha.  He could neither read nor write--at least not so as to profit by these
acquirements.  But he gave his children, especially his sons, a liberal education.

  It may be readily supposed that such a man was bigoted in his opinions, and full of
prejudices.  Strong-minded, self-relying men, not liberalized by education, always are.
As he was not disposed to tolerate opposition to his will, neither would he regard those
with favor who differed from him in religion or politics.  He was a Baptist, wholly and
exclusively.  He knew little of other religious denominations and had imbibed
unfavorable opinions of the.  He seems to have some how gotten a particular dislike to
the Presbyterians, which was rather unfortunate at first for our Little Bobby Willson, though
in the end it was not.

  It being Saturday evening when he arrived, Mr. Willson was properly concerned to discover
how he might spend the next day in a Christian manner, and whether, providentially, a way
might be opened for him to do a little good among these heathenish, whiskey-drinking,
bear-hunting barbarians of Kanawha; ---for such was the character which he had heard of them.

  When Little Bobby saw what a corpulent backwoodsman he had for his host, --- how loudly
and authoritatively he spoke to those around him--how rough were his manners, and how
dogmatical his conversation, he was almost afraid to say a word to him about religious worship.

  But in the course of the evening, he found that Mr. Morris was, himself, a member of
the Baptist Church, and that his rudeness of manner proceeded not from ungodliness, but
from early association with rude and ignorant backwoodsmen.  Therefore he ventured, before going to be, to inquire if there was to be any preaching in
the neighborhood on the morrow.
     "No," said his host, none nigher than Elk."
     "How far is that, Mr. Morris?"
     "Eighteen miles."
     "Well, Mr. Morris, as I am a preacher
      of the gospel, and do not wish to travel, or
      to be idle, on the Sabbath, would it be
      convenient and agreeable to have preaching
      appointed for me in this neighborhood?  I
      suppose that a small congregation could be
      collected."
      "What profession are you of?"
      "I am a Presbyterian!"
      "A Presbyterian are you!  Then you
       can't preach about here.  We are all Baptists
       and have not much opinion about your sort o'
       people."

  This answer settled the question, Mr. Willson asked for an early breakfast, that he
might, if possible, reach the Baptist preaching at Elk.  He hoped, that although he might
not preach among Kanawha Baptists, he might be permitted to join them in their worship.
But altogether his impressions were, that very night, very gloomy.  Not being acquainted
with the host, he could not make allowance for his backwoods roughness, nor discover the
real merits of his character.

  The next morning after an early breakfast, he rode hastily to Elk, seeing little sign
of religion or civilization by the way, yet meeting with no rude behaviour from any body.
When he entered the little village in Charleston, just above the Elk ferry, he saw at each
of its two public houses a company of riotous drinkers, and the day being warm and fair,
idle folk, old and young, were sitting or playing under the beautiful shade trees of the
river bank while some boys were fishing with hook and line by the water's edge.

  Seeing in these circumstances no sign of a religious meeting, he made inquiry of the
people near whom he passed;  the first one or two had not heard of any meeting, but the
next informed him that Mr. Johnson was preaching in the woods over Elk.

  This, we observe by the way, was the summer custom of the country;  for even Charleston,
the new metropolis of the county, had, among its twenty-five or thirty houses, no house of
worship; and the courthouse, the only public building, except the jail, was small and
ill-arranged for such a purpose.

  With sad feelings from what he saw, and sad anticipations of what he was to see, Mr.
Willson hastened through the town to the ferry just below;  crossing the mouth of Elk,
one hundred yards wide, and passing a little corn field towards the forest beyond, he
began to hear the sound of a loud, harsh voice echoing through the shades, and presently
he saw people seated here and there on logs, or lying on the leaves and grass.  This was
the meeting he sought.  He was pleased to find some people there, although from the scattered way in which they had placed themselves, far and near, and the intervention of trees and bushes, concealing some of the congregation, he took them to be fewer than those whom he had seen drinking and idling in the town.

  The preacher stood in the back ground at the foot of a great tree, where a natural
elevation enabled him to oversee all before him.  The congregation had not need to sit near
him, for his voice filled all the neighboring woods.

  Mr. Willson hastily dismounted and tied his horse to a bush.  Then he came rather
timidly forward and took his seat on a fallen tree in front of the preacher.  Those in
the congregation who saw him, looked with some curiosity at the little pale-faced stranger,
dressed in black, who suddenly appeared among them, and whose deportment was so modest
and reverential.  But there was no stir or rude behaviour, and in a minute or two, all
seemed to give ear to the preacher.

  Mr. Willson judged that he must have been
speaking several minutes before he came within hearing.  He listened not only with
attention, but soon also with interest, for although the loud rasping voice grated on his
ear, he was much pleased with the simple language and strong sense of the preacher.  His
manner was unpolished, as well as his style, yet not disagreeable to even the refined
taste of Mr. Willson.  It was earnest without affectation or extravagance.  His
illustrations, though homely, were apt.  His exhortations and rebukes were trumpeted
forth with the honest zeal which spares not, and the kindliness of manner which offends
not.  In short, Mr. Johnson was an excellent forest preacher and his Presbyterian auditor
was gratified to find that this wild Kanawha had in it so good a tamer of the passions.

  But the preacher had not proceeded longer than twenty minutes before he paused and
observed that he would now wind up his discourse sooner than he had intended;
"for," said he, if I am not mistaken, we have another preacher among us, and perhaps you
may hear another sermon before we part."  Mr. Willson was surprised and a little abashed;
for Johnson looked straight at him as he uttered these words.

 "He seems to mean me,"  thought Little  Bobby.  "He must take me for a Baptist Preacher.
I must undeceive him if he asks me to preach."

  He was not kept long in surprise, for Johnson, after a few concluding sentences said,
"now, brethren, keep your seats till I return."  Then he descended from his stand went
directly to Mr. Willson and thus addressed him:

  "I perceive sir, that you are a stranger on a journey, and if I am not mistaken, you are
   a minister of the gospel.  Am I right?"
  "Yes, sir, you are right in taking me for a minister; but I am a Presbyterian."
  "Very well; that is what I took you to be.  But may I ask your name?"
  "Certainly, I am called Robert Willson."
  "Well now, brother Willson, I am a Baptist; but I am sure you will do me and the
   congregation a favor if you will be kind enough to come to the stand and give us a sermon."
   "Since you are kind enough to ask me, I will do so with pleasure, though I am a good deal
    fatigued with riding eighteen miles to your meeting this morning."

  Mr. Johnson then conducted him to the stand, and announced to the people that they would
have the pleasure of hearing a sermon from Mr. Willson, a Presbyterian brother.

  While Mr. Willson sat on a rude seat by the tree to look out his text, and to collect
his thoughts a little, Mr. Johnson gave forth a hymn to be sung by the congregation.  When
this was done, Mr. Wilson (sic) rose and read his text.  Though agreeably surprised by the
brotherly reception of Mr. Johnson, and the quiet behaviour of the people;  yet he had not
fully recovered from the damping influence of Kanawha upon his spirits.  This and the
fatigue of riding operated upon his naturally timid and feeble voice, to make him speak
at first so faintly that few of the people heard what he said.  The people, seeing his
diminutive stature and perceiving the almost inaudible tone of his utterance, conceived
that so puny a person and voice could not do much.  Still, they had a curiosity to hear
what the little stranger would say.  Those at a distance began to rise and draw nigher.
They continued standing, the better to catch the soft sounds.  This encouraged and
stimulated the little preacher, and he soon gained his usual self-possession, and spoke
with more animation and fluency of expression.  Now the people were struck with the soft
music of his voice;  which compared with Johnson's, was as the flageolet to the hautbois,
as the dove to the jay.

  As he proceeded they began to feel charmed, almost unconsciously, by the mellifluous
tones that melted in their ears, and by the combined beauty of his thoughts and his
language, flowing now, fresh and clear, like the springs of their mountains.  They had
been told that the Presbyterian preachers were "mighty high larnt;"  but here to their
surprise, was one whose sermon was quite intelligible to them---as much so as if he had
never been to College.

  Gradually the congregation nearly all rose to their feet, and gathered around the
preacher, evidently desiring to lose not a word of the sermon.  What they heard was both
new and sweet to their ears.  They had heard Johnson's thunder, and very good thunder it
was.  But they were used to that.  But now they heard what they had never heard before
---preaching that charmed, like the melodious song of the Syrens.  It drew their ears and
their hearts with a mysterious power, like a magnet.  Unconsciously they still crowded
nearer to the preacher, who noticed that the congregation was more numerous than he had
supposed.  Being encouraged and exhilarated by their eager attention he grew more
animated and more eloquent, until he concluded his sermon.

  He did not by this discourse satisfy his hearers. Both the congregation and Mr.
Johnson begged him to preach the next day.  He did so in the Courthouse, to as many as
could crowd in.  A number of the town's people, whose Sabbath idleness and disorder had
grieved him the preceding day, now went to hear him;  though the tavern adjacent to the
Courthouse lot was not quite emptied of its daily tipplers, even by the soft notes of
this dove-like minister of the gospel.

  Then Mr. Willson pursued his journey with a better opinion of Kanawha, than he had
before he attended the Baptist meeting in the woods.

----

  Reader, this story is true; and it suggests several reflections
---1.  How amiable was the Christian courtesy and liberality of Mr. Johnson towards a
strange brother of another denomination!
---2.  Even rude backwoodsmen can appreciate true eloquence when it clothes itself in
the natural garb of simplicity.  Let learned preachers imitate the great and good
Archbishop Tillotson, who would not use a word in his sermons which was not intelligible
to the meanest of his hearers.  Auditors of a truly refined taste prefer this style of
preaching, and all classes of people can profit by it.  The best effect of learning in
the pulpit, is, when it has upon all minds the effect of optic glasses upon all eyes,
to give a perception of what was not seen, and a clear perception of what was dimly
seen.  This comprehends both instruction and persuasion;  neither of which can be
conveyed through a cloud of hard words or a glare of false rhetoric.