Methodist minister Jacob Gruber recounted his early career in the Shenandoah and Greenbrier valleys of Virginia in this published magazine article from 1847. Although familiar with traditional Methodist revival practices—including falling and shouting—Gruber nonetheless was perplexed by his first encounters with the jerking exercise. “I am not called to analyze or methodize the jerks,” he explained, and “have no tools for that work.”
For the Christian Advocate and Journal.
VERY DEAR FRIEND,—About three quarters of the year 1803, I was on Huntington circuit. It was then a full four weeks’ circuit, including Woodcock Valley, Bloody Run, Bedford, Deming’s Creek, Morrison’s Cove, Frankstown, Warrior’s Mark, Half-moon, Stone Valley, Manor Hill, Warrior’s Ridge, Huntington, &c., &c. A large field and a wilderness, to clear and to cultivate. The handful of corn among the mountains grew, the Lord gave the increase, and we gave Him the glory, in the public congregations, and frequently in loud shouts in family worship. Many souls were powerfully converted to God. Truly we had times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. Many of the converts have gone to heaven; I hope to overtake them, and be forever with the Lord in glory.
My next appointment was to Carlisle circuit, in 1804. The General Conference made the great river the line, and put Carlisle district into Baltimore Conference. This was a full four weeks’ circuit—a large field, not like a small potato or tobacco patch. It included York, Lewisberry, Lisbon, Hollow-peters, Carlisle, Shippensburg, Chambersburg, Waynesburg, Hunters town, Rock Chapel, Petersburg, Harmans, and Worleys, and a number of other places. I sold between three and four hundred dollars’ worth of books in this year; so the people got our books, and lasting good was done among them. We had some prosperity, some trials and troubles, but the Lord helped us out. My colleague was stopped, sent home, lived some years there, and it is said there was hope in his end. Thanks be to the Lord for it.
At the conference in 1805, held in Winchester, Virginia, I was left on Winchester circuit. J. Richards, a tine, sensible young man, was my colleague for two quarters. He was then taken away by the P. Elder, to fill a station from which a preacher had run away, to be a parson in a P. E. Church. At the conference the character of J. R. was fair and good: he had a very young though serious appearance; and one of the old preachers said, “he wished that some old preachers were as serious and solemn as that young man.” Bishop Asbury looked pleasant and said, “Do you make any allowance for solids and fluids.” The young man preached very nice, well-connected sermons, fifteen or twenty minutes long. He was very studious. Take a sample. A man asked him to stop and dine at his house, being on his way to his afternoon meeting. He stopped: the man took him into the house, left him in a room, and went to feed his horse. On coming back to the house, he met the young preacher coming out, with his saddle-bags on his arm, and asking for his horse. “Why,” said the man, “Mr. R. you must not go away—stay for dinner.” The preacher spoke out—”I cannot stay here. There are young persons in another room, laughing and talking, who interrupt me in my studies. Did you not know I was a minister? Why would you let me be so insulted?” All the man could say would not pacify the minister; he must have his horse, and go where his studies would not be hindered or interrupted; so he went on.
He was then sent to the Lake country; and from there the bishop sent him as a Missionary to Canada. There he left his station, ran away to his grandmother, (the Church of Rome,) got among the priests; and the last account I saw of him, he was among the nuns, where Maria Monk had been, as Father R., a little, good-natured, fat man, &c. I hope he will not go to limbo or purgatory at last, to finish his studies.
In 1806 I was sent to Rockingham circuit. We had good and great meetings. Br. J. Ward was finishing his work in the Greenbrier district, which included Rockingham circuit. He was a very zealous, lively, and successful preacher. Some said he always preached till he got some to cry or shout. In his time the great revivals were in progress; the great sacrament-meetings, and the strange and various exercises among the people. I had not seen what they called the jerks, but only heard of them. But now I saw them in several congregations. Different classes of persons had them, men and women. Some were happy when they had them, others were miserable. Their heads would shake, and in quick motion backward and forward, till the person would fall. Some would sit down, others would stand it out; while some were agitated, and all in commotion from head to foot. Some of the preachers spoke against them as they did against shouting, and hurt the feelings of sincere persons, without doing good to any. We had a prosperous, pleasant year, a great Camp Meeting, and many converts; praise the Lord for it.
In 1807 I was appointed to Greenbrier district, said to be the roughest in the Baltimore Conference. It included the circuits and country from Woodstock to Wyth county, into Grayson in North Carolina. Then through Ireland, Monroe, Greenbrier, Tygart’s Valley, Pendleton, Cresaptown, Cumberland, Old Town, South Branch, Moorfield, through Brook’s Gap to Rockingham, &c. Hard work, rough work, rough and bad roads, but great and successful meetings. A Camp Meeting in every circuit. Some estimated from fifty to one hundred converts at each. A quarterly meeting was not thought a good one, unless some souls were converted, some reclaimed, and a revival commenced or carried on. Some complained about too much wild-fire, and called the preachers the fire company; but we wanted fire that would warm and melt, and wake up sleepy sinners; not tame fire, fox fire, or the like. Some say ice is water fallen asleep. Some cry, Water, water, till all the fire is put out, and nothing but ice remains. Then it is a cold time, “a winter state,” &c. I was three years on the district, in which time we had great and glorious revivals, peace in our borders, and harmony and love among the preachers. We had few rest weeks, few tea-parties, but powerful and happy prayer-meetings, frequently shouting meetings—glory to God.
My travels among the Pendleton and Greenbrier mountains were hard and severe. One very cold night in the winter I took a path for a near way to my stopping place, but got out of my course, wandered about among the hills and mountains, and to the top to see clearings, or hear dogs bark or roosters crow, but all in vain. After midnight the moon arose. I could then see my track, the snow being about knee deep. I went back till I got into the right course, and to my lodging between four and five o’clock. The family were alarmed, said I was late, but I called it early: laid down and slept a little, got up for breakfast, then rode part of the day, and filled two appointments. I took no cold, the Lord supported me, and gave me strength according to my day and work. Thank Him for it. I cannot and dare not trust myself to write particulars in every year, much less in every place in the district. Several persons died shouting at meetings; one at an ordinary meeting was so powerfully blessed, that the vessel broke, the ransomed spirit went up to glory. She shouted with her expiring breath, and left her friends below. Another would be carried to a Camp Meeting, that she might go to heaven from a Camp ground. They took her, and the Lord took her up home, with her soul full of glory, as she went to glory, though her friends buried her body below; praise God for ever.
Let me write what I saw at Camp Meeting in this district. At one of them we had the common shouting exercise, the jumping exercise, the running exercise, the dancing exercise, the whirling exercise, the pointing exercise, the crying exercise, &c., &c. When any ask me to explain all these antics or exercises, I say I do not explain what I do not understand. Many who had these exercises did not understand them—would not account for them. I am not called to analyze or methodize the jerks: have no tools for that work. At one of the camp meetings in Greenbrier, there were some Presbyterians with tents. In one of them there was much praying and shouting. I asked them where they belonged. They said, “To the Presbyterians.” I said to them, “In those places they would not own you; you make too much noise. Who is your preacher?” They said, “We have none, we hold prayer meetings, and meet with the Methodists. We have some occasional supplies.” I was told a young minister came, “hunting a call.” He preached or read a sermon, and had the appearance of a dandy. One of their Elders asked him whether he had ever had his soul converted. His temper rose, and he said he was sent to preach to them, not to be examined by them. They told him if he had never been converted they did not want him to preach to them; so he did not even get a “common call.” Poor fellow, he would have to try it again and again.
An old preacher came and preached. Some in the congregation fell, as was customary then, and the preacher fell himself. It was said after he got up, he preached like another man. When he got back to his congregation, his preaching was so different from what it had been, that some got alarmed and made inquiry whether ho had turned a “New Light.” He replied no, it was the old light, but newly snuffed. What a good thing it would be to have our lamps frequently trimmed, and our candles snuffed? May the Lord shine away all our darkness, and make us all light in him. Yours, respectfully,
J. Gruber.
Source
“Letter from the Rev. Jacob Gruber. No. I,” Christian Advocate and Journal 22 (1847): 100.
