As the name of this eccentric preacher has been introduced
so much of late, to the public, and as little is known of him at the east, we
publish the following description of him and an anecdote, which will give a
very good idea of the individual:
Brownlow is a man of medium height and rather slim, with a
round, “bullet” head, a quiet, pleasing countenance, and a good address; is an
excellent, logical and persuasive speaker, and is as little in personal bearing
and appearance like the blackguard he likes to make himself appear as one can
imagine.
A characteristic story is told of him that is worth
recording. Upon the borders of Virginia,
there was a settlement of rough “hard shell” Baptists. The Methodists had long essayed to effect a
lodgment in this quarter, but were summarily defeated by the decisive mode of
turning their missionaries neck and heels out of the place – and this is no very
tender or “do as you would be done by” style of Christian treatment. With such vigor did the Baptists hold this
tower of the Lord that the Methodists, with all their zeal for propagating the
Gospel, and their resolute devotion to the great duty, paused before this
Baptist Gibraltar. The task seemed a
hopeless one, and not one of the faithful could be found to encounter the inevitable
risk of personal violence – especially as a coat of tar and feathers had been
designated as the fate of any new warrior of the cross who should appear in
that region in Methodist garb. At last,
Parson Brownlow was appointed to the duty of converting these heathens from the
errors of their ways.
Parson Brownlow was much younger, less celebrated than he is
now, but the same fiery and reckless spirit animated him then that has since
extended his reputation so widely. He
knew the risk was chosen to encounter, and rather relished the novelty and
excitement of this new field.
Accordingly, mounted upon his horse, with the inevitable saddle-bags of
the Southern horseback traveler, he entered the enemy’s camp, on Saturday
morning, and announced his purpose to give the barbarians in their locality a “creed
of the new doctrine on the holy day to follow.”
The result was that horse and saddle-bags were taken as spoils, his
person roughly maltreated, and he was turned loose in the outskirts of the
place and ordered, at his peril, never to study daylight in that quarter
again. The parson footed it home as best
he might, but soon after reappeared at the scene of contest, and conflict, with
another horse and another pair of saddle-bags, to commence his labors. His treatment was commensurate with the
hearty and religious indignation of his foes, and once more the parson footed
it home, sore and horseless.
A third time the irrepressible Brownlow appeared upon the
field, to be served about as before; only his pertinacity and courage had worked
upon the curiosity as well as the fancy of a portion of the good people of the
region. Some were for hearing “what the
cuss was arter” but he was finally again unhorsed and unsaddle-bagged, and he
started home afoot, but he had effected a lodgment among those rude people, who
love pluck and grit if they did not love Methodism. Of course he was expelled again. And sure enough the fourth time, with the
fourth horse and fourth pair of saddlebags, appeared the persevering Parson
Brownlow. By this time there had arisen
a decided curiosity to hear what the “cuss” had to say, and the parson at last
was allowed to preach. Well suited in
tastes and impulses to the rude congregation before him, he soon won their
confidence, and closed a decidedly popular man.
A dozen invitations pressed him to dinner – a universal request that he
would come again as soon as he could, and a full restoration of the value of
the lost horses, and saddle-bags proved the final triumph of the “irrepressible
Methodist.” The final result was, the
place became the most invincible of the Methodists and Parson Brownlow one of
the most popular preachers among them.
– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye,
Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 29, 1862, p. 3
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