Newspaper Page Text
Two of the First Baptist Preachers in the State of Georgia
Although the State of Georgia was not the prin
cipal theatre of Rev. Edmund Botsibrd’s labors,
he was one of the very first Baptist ministers that
sowed good seeds within its borders. He was born
in England in 1745, and after passing through va
rious vicissitudes of life, he was baptized in 177 G
and became a Baptist minister in Charleston. After
he was licensed to preach he entered upon a course
of study under his pastor, Rev. Mr. Hart, for the
ministry. Having enumerated many of God’s mer
cies and several interesting scenes through which he
had passed, he adds: “So I have been groom, foot
man, painter, carpenter and soldier; and had now
commenced preacher.” He continued with Mr.
Hart till the following June.
Leaving Charleston he went westward and located
near Tuckaseeking, a settlement about forty miles
north of Savannah, Georgia, where he found a few
zealous Baptists and commenced preaching to them.
At that time there was not a Baptist church in the
state, and only one regularly ordained Baptist min
ister. He did not confine himself to Tuckaseek
ing, but preached extensively in many contiguous
regions, both in Georgia and South Carolina.
The manner in which he commenced his labors
at Ebenezer, a large settlement of Dutch Lutherans,
was sufficiently amusing. It is thus related by Mr.
Botsford: “At the lower part of this settlement
was a Dutch church, which was only oceasioanlly
occupied by the Lutherans, and was convenient to a
few Baptists and others. I was asked, if I had
any objections to preaching in it, if leave could be
obtained. I By no means.’ Application was made
to the minister, a Mr. Robinhurst (as the name was
pronounced), and he released the applicant to the
deacon. The deacon’s reply was: ‘No, no; tese
Baptists are a very pad people; they begin shlow
at forst—py and py all men follow dem. No, no,
go to the minister, Mr. R., if he says, breach, den
I kiss you de keys.’ The minister says, ‘I have no
objection, and leaves it with you.’ ‘Den take de
keys; I will come and hear myself.’ The house was
opened, and I preached the first time-on October 1,
1771, from Matt. 9:13. When I had preached, the
old deacon said: ‘Dat peen pad poy, put he breach
Jesus Christ, he come again and welcome.’ ”
This old gentleman finally decided to leave this
Tuckaseeking, and return to Charleston, where he
remained for a number of years. Soon after his
ordination, which was in March, he commenced bap
tizing and by the middle of the following November
he had immersed forty-five. To show what an
active life he led, during the month of August one
year he rode six hundred and fifty miles, preached
forty-two serm/ons, baptized twenty-one subjects
and administered the Lord’s Supper twice. He
traveled so much, whilst in the active discharge of
his ministerial duties, he was known all over Geor
gia and South Carolina, as “The Flying Preacher.”
His time was thus occupied for several years, till
in the spring of 1779, he was compelled to make a
precipitate flight from his home and the state, on
account of the horrors of the revolutionary war.
He and his family departed in such haste that they
had only time to take off with them two horses and
a cart, containing a single bed, one blanket and a
sheet. Thus, after having carried the gospel into
many benighted neighborhoods, sown much precious
seed, baptized one hundred and forty-eight persons,
reared up a flourishing church, and prepared mate
rials for future churches, so that he might be justly
regarded (if we except the indefatigable Marshall)
as the principal founder of the Baptist interest in
Georgia, Mr. Botsford hurries from the province, an
unprotected fugitive, no more to find a permanent
abode in the region of his early labors.
During the remainder of the revolution, he had
no very permanent abode—was a part of the time
chaplain in the American army—the balance of it,
in South and North Carolina, and in Virginia.
Daniel Marshall.
This good man was born in 1706 in Connecticut.
At the age of twenty, he joined the Presbyterian
church of his native place. The natural ardor of
his mind soon kindled into the fire of a holy zeal,
By DR. R. J. MASSEY.
The Golden Age for October 4, 1906.
which raised him so high in the estimation of his
brethren, that they called him to the office of a
deacon. In the exemplary discharge of his duty, in
this capacity, he continued near twenty years. He
was in easy circumstances of life. During this
period, he married his first wife, who soon died,
leaving one son. At thirty-eight years of age, he
heard that son of thunder, Rev. George Whitfield.
With many other worthy people in New England,
he became firmly fixed in the belief that “the lat
ter day glory’’ was just at hand, and that it was
his duty to do all he could to hasten it on. Some
sold, gave away, or left their possessions as the
powerful impulse of the moment determined, and
without scrip or purse, rushed up to the head of the
Susquehanna to convert the heathen. Daniel Mar
shall was among those who became missionaries to
the Mohawk Indians.
He served as missionary among the Indians for
eighteen months, doing much good. War among the
Indians caused him to remove back to the white
settlements. He came to Winchester, Virginia, and
in the forty-eighth year of his age, he and his wife
were immersed into the Baptist faith. He was at
once licensed to preach, and felt impelled to plunge
still deeper into the moral wilderness before him.
Spending some time in North and South Carolina,
he came to Horse Creek, about fifteen miles north
of Augusta. From this place, he made his first visit
to Georgia, and preached most generally in private
houses.
About his second or third visit, he had a meeting
in the woods, under a grove. While engaged in pray"
er, in the opening of the service, he was arrested by
Constable Cartlidge (afterwards a physician and
baptized by Mr. Marshall, and who continued stead
fast in the faith till his death in about 1825), and
security for his appearance at court was given by
Hugh Middleton, who resided just across the Savan
nah on the South Carolina side. Mrs. Marshall,
who was present, quoted several texts of scripture
with so much force as to confound the opposers
and convict several persons.
The Monday following, Mr. Marshall and his
security went to Augusta and stood his trial before
Col. Barnard (or Barnet) and Parson Ellington, of
the Church of England. The latter seemed rather
to take the place of the magistrate, and began the
trial by commanding the prisoner to read a chapter
in the Bible. This done, he abused him considera
bly, and ordered him to desist from preaching in the
province. In the words of the apostle, when sim
ilarly circumstanced, he replied, “Whether it be
right to obey God rather than men, judge ye.”
Col. Barnard, the magistrate, was afterwards
hopefully converted, and though deterred by the op
position of his wife from being baptized, was a zeal
ous Christian, and used to exhort his neighbors to
flee from the wrath to come.
Thus it appears that it was not without stern op
position that Baptist sentiments were introduced
into Georgia; that it was at the cost of much toil,
and sacrifice, and insult, that our fathers purchased
for us the religious privileges which we now so
richly enjoy.
Mr. Marshall permanently located at Kiokee, and
was famous for having furnished materials for sev
eral other churches, and probably under his preach
ing, more eminent ministers of the gospel were fur
nished to the Baptist Church than that of any
other man. Here he died in 1784. He was buried
near the church. Afterward, the church was re
moved several miles away, where a brick edifice
was built. This church is in prosperous condition,
even to this day. After the removal of the church,
the town of Appling, county seat of Columbia, was
located here. For many years Mr. Marshall’s grave
was tenderly cared for. Every little child in the
neighborhood was glad to show it to visitors. At
least twice a year or oftener, the good ladies of the
place had it carefully cleaned off and decorated with
flowers. This, in all probability, is the first instance
of decorating a grave with flowers in the state of
Georgia.
The Lift of the Heart.
ELIZABETH KEMPER ADAMS.
When we stand with the woods around us
And the great boughs overhead;
When the wind blows cool on our foreheads,
And the breath of the pines is shed;
When the song of the thrush is ringing—
Wonderful, rich, apart—
Between the sound and the silence
Comes a sudden lift of the heart.
When we gaze from a wintry summit
Over mountain tops aglow
In the clear cold light of the sunset,
And on pools of dusk below;
When the frozen woods are so silent
That a dead leaf makes us start—
Between the flush and the fading
Comes a sudden lift of the heart.
When we seek with the clearer vision
That Grief the Revealer brings
For the threads that are shot together
In the close-wrought Web of Things;
And find that Pain is woven
Into Love and Joy and Art—
Between the search and the solace
Comes a sudden lift of the heart.
And when life’s farthing candle
Gutters and flares and sinks;
When the eye no longer wanders,
And the brain no longer thinks;
When only the hand plucks idly
At the sheet till the spirit part—
Does there come between living and dying
A sudden lift of the heart?
—The Atlantic Monthly.
The Polite Usher’s Advice.
A Brooklyn young man took his best girl to
church, and as he reached a partially filled pew he
turned to the usher and asked:
“Do you suppose we could squeeze in here?”
“You might be able to,” replied the usher, po
litely, “but I would advise you to wait until you
get home.”
A Conscientious Patient.
“Medicine won’t help you any,” the doctor told
his patient. “What you need is a complete change
of living. Get away to some quiet country place
for a month. Go to bed early, eat more roast beef,
drink plenty of good, rich milk, and smoke just one
cigar a day.”
A month later the patient walked into the doc
tor’s office. He looked like a new man, and the
doctor told him so.
“Yes, doctor, your advice certainly did the busi
ness. I went to bed early and did all the other
things you told me. But, say, doctor, that one ci
gar a day almost killed me at first. It’s no joke
starting in to smoke at my time o’ life.”—Every
body’s Magazine.
Gossip of the Wind.
By Robert Lowman.
The wind is such a gossip,
I must be very still,
For every idle word I breathe
He’ll carry o’er the hill;
And shrub, and rock, and bird, and tree,
That I love jealously,
May form some queer opinion
Os poor old foolish me.
A teacher in Japan copied these English sentences
just as they were written by Japanese pupils:
“The toothache is a disgutable disease.”
“Though the toothache is a little disease, it dis
turbs the soul to a great degree.”
“The good man is bold as a lion, but the bad
man flew even when no man drive him.”
“My dog is very bark.”
“Come he»e, my amiable cat.”
3