The Saint of the Wilderness - Jess Carr

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 17
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Page 383-389- The Methodist Church cancels its Camp Meetings…
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One morning he asked his wife to assist him in his walking practice, for the time was near when he would need to stand upon the platform at Wabash and walk the straw-covered aisles in his exhortations. That same afternoon Tyler Frazier sat before him and told him that the Wabash camp meeting was being canceled. For the first time in fifty-six years candlelight would not flicker through the trees of the tent area at night and the sprawling worship shed would stand empty and desolate. All his practice had been in vain. There would be no one to exhort, and he need not have worried about kneeling, nor the difficulty of rising again: there would be no one so weighted and ashamed of his sins that Robert would need to kneel likewise, offering guidance and comfort. Such activities were unnecessary in a shed empty of sweating, breathing, repentant humanity.

Through bitter tears he listened to an explanation from Tyler Frazier as to why the campground committee had no choice but to call off the event. Robert had heard the reasons before, and he did not really care to hear them again. In his heart was the belief that he could have helped to turn the tide.

“As faithful as you are, Brother Bob, nothing would have been changed,” Tyler Frazier said. “You are forgetting that our best years have involved the cooperation of dozens of ministers and scores of churches, not to mention the appearance of some of our most eminent divines who are themselves large crowd gatherers. Brother Bob, as much as I love you, you are wrong to think this vast undertaking can possibly rest on the effort of one man, no matter how dedicated. And last, do not forget the people. Where is the great outpouring of their interest that we have seen dwindling for two years?”

As Robert was not totally well he spent the greater part of the year in the care of his loving wife. Eliza imposed prohibitions against Robert causing him to spend the greater amount of time at home (In which we in modern times would say… He is in the doghouse). They would take time to go to church together and the occasional nearby revival. Though the thoughts of not having camp meeting weighed on his mind, the health issues were of more importance. Besides, having the extra time around Eliza was like a second honeymoon.

From August to Thanksgiving in late November Robert lay in the comfort of his dear wife Eliza. If there was a soul in the world that could ‘rub out the pain,’ it would be Eliza. They would spend time of day reading the volumes of mail that arrived at the Sheffey household, visits of many consoling friends and ministers, go to church together, in family devotion and prayer, spend time of day arguing over Robert's next planned missionary journey, giving them a wonderful season as husband and wife. There were a many a night that they would spend sitting on the porch talking and listening to the katydids sing their late summer song. The neighborhood kids would come and listen to the many stories Robert would have to tell them, giving ear to the many camp meetings of yore. And he would sometimes weep while he told the story. Eddie would send them money to help keep their life solvent and afloat. This was one of the most fulfilling years of Eliza’s life and she told him so.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 17
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Page 383-389- The Wabash Camp Meetings…. Rev Ed Bailey to the rescue!
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Robert could not ride his horse well until after Thanksgiving of that year, but he lost no time in being about his business and paying special calls of thanks on those who bad helped him during his period of convalescence. From such an errand, and a still earlier preaching service at Bethany church in Bland County, he was returning toward Staffordsville. The late afternoon was exceedingly chill with a stiff wind, but the strongest inclination pressed him to stop at the Wabash camp grounds. The sorrow caused him by the camp’s idleness the summer just past had not left him, but he could now accept it as fact. When he dismounted and wandered about the vacant cabins, seeing firsthand a splintered and vandalized rostrum lying in the mud on top of the upturned mourners’ benches, a feeling of utter desolation overcame him. Wind whistled through holes in the roof shingles of the shed. They were small holes – either evidence of rock-throwing boys or just the faintest hint of deterioration.

The singing wind seemed to mesmerize him as he walked up, then down the dirt aisles. A stool of wheat sprouts grew wild almost in the center of the aisle. Perhaps it has seeded and reseeded itself since the last straw was put in the aisle, he thought. Finally he wrestled the mourners’ benches from the mud and sat them upright. With what dry straw there was to be found, he brushed the dust and mud from the crude furniture and sat upon one of them. The faces of those who had sat there over the past years came to him with starling clarity, and not alone the most recent ones. Those of twenty years’ duration looked to him from out of the past, the depth of their convictions still showing hauntingly in their remembered countenances.

It was all becoming too real. He jumped from his seat and, tidying up, sat the battered rostrum back in place and sang to forms that shone with faintest outline against the pole-back seats. He reached the second chorus of “Blessed Be the Name of the Lord” before a broad-shouldered intruder of middle years glided effortlessly into one of the slab pews, appearing a great deal more real than those who Robert knew were only creations of his own reverie. Robert stopped, but the visitor urged him to go on.

“I was enjoying the singing, and I like the atmosphere, Brother Sheffey. If you are so inclined, preach or sing. I will be your appreciative audience.”

“You call my name but I know not yours?”

“You will when I get closer. We’ve worked together too long for you to forget.”

Robert met his visitor halfway and called out his name joyously. “Brother Bailey! Ed! My eyesight fails me, but my happy heart makes up for it. What brings you here?”

“I’m the conference-appointed minister for the Staffordsville charge now. After the fall assignments I knew I was coming, and I’m on my way now to spend a few days with my predecessor. He’ll introduce me around, and I’ll count on you likewise.”

“I’ll do it. And thank God you’ve come.”

“Brother Bob, I have not made this place my first stop without purpose. I didn’t see you or your horse until I moved under the shed, but if I make my confession complete I wanted to do just what you’re doing: to stand here and feel the spirit of victorious souls about me. This camp ground has been too great a witness to fall into ruin. If I must do it myself, I want it flooded with shouts and songs of praise when summer comes.”

Robert was so overcome that he could not speak, and before his eyes spilled over he was holding fast the younger man in fraternal embrace.

Composed, Robert thought swiftly ahead. “It is the thing I have dreamed of. I will ride at your side, or alone, to put candlelight back at the altar again.”

“I’ll need you. We will have little help, but we’ll have little opposition also. We are free to exercise our own consciences in this matter. Now let us see how the consciences of those in our territory are leaning.”

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 17
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Page 383-389- The 1893-94 Wabash Camp Meeting
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The following summer, in 1893, candlelight flickered at some of the cabin windows but the camping population was small and the travelers from distant places almost nonexistent. Lady Nick was not among the missing, however – neither was she among a small handful of converts. Had not the services, the most optimistic of the small band of organizers could only have conceded failure of the whole endeavor.

“Never you fear, Brother Bob,” Ed Bailey said. “We’ll be cocked and ready next year.”

“I’ve got a few ideas of my own to boost attendance then,” Tyler Frazier added.

Robert felt that they need not encourage him at all. There was no need of it. Had there been only twelve people in attendance and one convert, to him it would, have been a new beginning.

Other than taking care of his regular itinerary, Robert did not resume the more distant riding of former years until the coming spring. Even then, figuratively speaking, he had Eliza to fight. He could ride well now, and only when he became exhausted did the old problem of imbalance come back to plague him.

“Robert, it’ll only take one more fall like you had before and I’ll be spending my days and nights nursing you. I’ve got better things to do than that!” Eliza tried to sound harsh, but he knew her too well and for too long. Further, she made the fatal mistake of coming to him with a tender hand upon. His shoulder as she scolded him.

“Now, Eliza –“ he would say.

“Don’t ‘now, Eliza’ me! You’ve got no business going. And we’re not starving to death like we once were. Haven’t you seen Eddie’s letters lately? He sends us a check almost every time he writes. We’ve got enough to live on, dear husband.”

“That part never did worry me, Eliza. It doesn’t now.”

The conversation was one repeated several times that summer, but, unfailingly, off he would ride.

He saw the fruits of his labors when the camp-ground season came around again. He had called upon churches, preachers, and people, both individually and collectively. Everywhere he had gone throughout the summer he had preached two themes: hold fast to Christ’s love, for only in that way will you possess the strength to live life; second, while clinging to this love make it your highest aim to find God’s purpose for you as an individual.

Having preached this, he would add that no better place on earth could be found to start this new philosophy than at the camp grounds. “If you have lived a hundred years and have not had a genuine encounter with the living God, then you have not lived at all,” he’d add and ride away to any other place that provided listeners.

Raving preached this, he would add that no better place on earth could be found to start this new philosophy than at the camp grounds. “If you have lived a hundred years and have not had a genuine encounter with the living God, then you have not lived at all,” he’d add and ride away to any other place that provided listeners.

They had listened to Tyler Frazier and Ed Bailey and notices posted. Advertisements were placed in newspapers. August of 1894 looked amazingly like the Wabash of an earlier era. Lady Nick was there, and two eminent divines perched upon the speakers’ platform and confessed proudly their secret love for the humble Christianity of the camp ground.

Again Eddie had come home to worship with his family at the camp ground. He made clear to his father that he had come for another reason also. “Father, you are seventy-four years old, and it is foolish for you to be riding hundreds of miles alone. I want you and Mother to come back to Lynchburg with me to live. I can care for you there – there’s so little I can do here.”

Robert scoffed at the idea and sent his son home. Never had he felt better or happier. This year even the cold of winter would not deter him in his travels; he’d decided about that, Lord willing, months ago. Eliza went into a frenzy when he left on a December day that had seen her wash water freeze solid upon the ground as soon as she emptied it out.

“Don’t you fret, Eliza, I’m just going to work along the mountain at Mechanicsburg. Some of the people there have written me – they get so lonesome when they can’t get out to church and have the Bible read – the old ones especially. Don’t you worry now – we’ll be a blessing to each other.”

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 17
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Page 390-393- Robert continues the work – Much to Eliza’s dissatisfaction
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The visits along the mountain range to the south of Mechanicsburg, some twenty miles from Staffordsville, were extended only to the known shut-ins, but each family continued to send him farther and farther west to visit some relative or personal friend who was in need of encouragement or visitation. He obliged joyfully, and often he would find himself doubling back to the same house to bring needed food to enable a family to survive the winter.

“Gideon, there is no little task for the Lord. Sometimes the smallest of them is the great link in some plan of our divine Maker.”

Onward he traveled to Point Pleasant, and westward to Bland. Snow peppered down after he left the home of an old man who had lost a leg, yet farther still he rode. He met a man walking and inquired of his destination.

“I’m hunting a job. Going down toward the creek at the sawmill; maybe they’ll hire me. If they don’t, we may plumb starve to death this winter.”

Robert looked closely at the young man, who hardly had enough clothes on his body to ward off the snow. While they talked the pedestrian kicked playfully at the road gravel. Robert saw that he had well-worn shoes and no socks at all.

“You’ve got no socks on, man? You’ll freeze your toes off without socks!” Robert exclaimed.

“Ain’t got none,” the other said.

“Then you shall have mine.”

“My toes might as well be froze as yours.”

“The sweet Lord will provide my needs,” Robert said and dismounted to remove his shoes so that the promised socks could be relinquished.

He did not feel a numbness in his feet until he was a mile off from the borne of Newton Mustard. The snow was still falling lightly.

“The snow will not stop us, Gideon, but we will impose on Brother Mustard for a little soup, and if he notices our condition we will not refuse a pair of his socks.”

Newton Mustard did not answer the knock upon the door. But his wife did, and exclaimed, “Why, Brother Sheffey, I was I just thinking about you this morning! I finished knitting you a pair of socks before the snow started and I was just wondering how I was going to get them to you!”

He put the love gift in his pocket and later slipped the socks upon his feet while his hostess prepared his soup in her kitchen. When she returned he sat upon the floor near the hearth.

“Newton is breaking open a new haystack for the animals. I He says we might get two feet of this white powder – why, Brother Sheffey, why are you sitting on the floor? Sit ill the rocking chair there by the fire. I thought I’d invited you to.”

“You did,” he said, taking the soup and spoon from her always-busy hands.

“Then why don’t you sit there?” she insisted. “My cushion ought to be a great deal softer than the floor or hearthstone !”

He sipped at his soup and leaned his back against the fireplace wall. Her eyes still questioned him. “I have left the rocking chair for Jesus,” he said.

The woman diverted her glance from him and when, with his toe, he set the rocking chair to oscillating back and forth, I her face began to flush.

“I don’t really mean I expected our blessed Christ to sit in the rocking chair, but I should be most happy if He would. No, I was just thinking that I would like to imagine Him there, resting here with us. To my knowledge, snow is not mentioned in the blessed Book but six or seven times, and it is hard for me to picture our Jesus plodding in it.. We always think of him in sandals walking in the sands and soil of the East, or along the blue seas of Galilee.”

The woman still looked at him strangely, but the tautness of surprise had left her and her brown eyes were soft and receptive.

“I should like very much sometime to see my Jesus come in out of the snow and be able myself to brush His garments clean. I’d like then to watch until the heat of the fire steamed the moisture from Him as now it is doing to me. It is not hard for me to picture Him setting there rocking . . . resting from his labor … being one of us … smiling down on’ us.”

The fire had made him warm, and he asked his hostess if he might lie down on the floor and sleep for a little while.

“Eliza says I am getting like a little baby, and I guess she’s right. It’s hard for me to get through a hard day with only the sleep the night has provided. You let me be, now – right here on the floor. When Brother Newton gets back we’ll have a family prayer.”

The letter that sent Eliza into the fury of a mother hen whose eggs had been stolen arrived in Staffordsville only two days after his return.

“Is it true?” Eliza demanded
.
“I don’t know what is true until you have told me about it, dear Eliza. What is it you ask?”

Eliza continued reading until, with a disapproving sniff, she cast the letter aside.

“This man is writing me with practically a demand to keep you at home during the winter months for your own sake. He says if you keep going around in the cold and snow we’ll all find you along some mountain road, a frozen-to-death corpse.”

“I wonder why the good brother should be concerned about me?”

“I’ll tell you why,” Eliza fumed. “The man writing this letter said that you stopped at his home in Hicksville one night and that you were so frozen that he and his son had to lift you off your horse. Is he exaggerating?”

“No, he’s telling you the truth. Bless their sweet life they let me sleep there for the night and gave me fried mush for breakfast. I rode over that way after I left Brother Newton Mustard’s house. ..”

“Robert, what am I going to do with you! Now stranger are writing me to keep you from killing yourself – they love you and don’t want you hurt. Can’t you see that?”

When the weekend passed and the bulk of the snow bad cleared, he was ready to strike out again. He avoided Eliza, feeling as guilty as a sneaky urchin pilfering his mother’s sweets. He left his wife a note and crept out the front door. When he reached the barn Gideon was gone. His alarm changed to contemplation and from contemplation to sadness. It was evident what had been done to him. He went back into the house by the kitchen door this time. Eliza was already crying but his own tears did not flow· until he sat in his chair and leafed clumsily through his table Bible. Eliza became silent after a while.

“Gideon is at Mr. Woodyard’s. It was the best place I could think of until spring; Mr. Woodyard loves that animal like you do – he’ll be well cared for. The neighbors will look after us and we’ll make arrangements to have a boy with a buggy take you around your itinerary.”

Robert did not lift his head, but out of the corners of his eyes he saw his wife wipe her face with her apron and disappear around the door.

Gideon was as slick and fat as a well-wintered bear when spring came, and to keep peace with Eliza he took only short trips during early summer. Always he left in early dawn and came home by nightfall. He visited Eggleston, and Pembroke. Little Creek and White Gate, among other nearby villages.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 7
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The Manner of Life of Mountain People
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Leaving Robert Sheffey, for a time, there in his doghouse with Eliza. I really wouldn’t imagine that it was all that bad as they had visits from friends and family, stoves to keep going, mail to sort through, and the basic love and warmth of each other’s Christian fellowship.

My great grandmother took care of her civil war era parents. When her parents passed away she married and moved just a few miles from Trigg, VA, and had my grandmother when she was old. My Grandmother kept her mother’s 1800’s ways and rehearsed them in my ears daily. I would jokingly refer to them as the “Gospel according to Edith.” Like Aunt Elizabeth she strongly believed that, “About his Aunt Elizabeth, though, he was certain. He could not recall a time when she had not encouraged him to read his Bible, to keep his person clean, and to attend church. Equally forceful were his aunt’s lectures about keeping good company and developing high ideals. All of these things were to be attained with and practiced with a special sort of dignity that Elizabeth White felt was becoming to every man.”

My grandmother embraced the 1800’s type lifestyle of working hard Monday through Friday, going to town on Saturday morning, getting together with folk on Saturday night, and going to church on Sunday. My people were also fanatics on ‘clean’. The men of my family would have three sets of clothes for Saturday; one set for going to town in the morning, the second set for the afternoon chores, and finally a set of clothes for the evening’s social activities. On Sunday there were blue laws that kept the places of business closed during the day. I once attempted to mow one Sunday, in which I was immediately told that, “Son, we don’t work on Sundays around here.” My grandparents often frowned on me for not picking up the same structure of lifestyle that they enjoyed. I was told many of times, “That boy does not have any structure about him.” I personally miss the old structure and way of doing things.

The people also lived well with very little earthly possessions. There was only one closet in my grandmother’s house. Most of the time special clothes were on a nail on the bedroom door. If you ever watched the Walton’s you will remember that they would talk to each other in the dark before going to bed. The real reason behind this was because their real house was very small; four bedrooms at the most very close to one another. As there was no central air system they had to keep the doors open so you could talk to everyone in the house while going to bed. We use to do this at grannies, have conversations for abut thirty minutes before going to sleep. We actually use to ‘good night’ everyone and sometimes I would jokingly add a “Good night John Boy and Mary-Ellen” as I would get ready to fall asleep. I would imagine that this same love was very much alive in the Sheffey house all their lives.

To place greater value on the camp meetings it must be understood that during this time there was very little in the form of entertainment here in these Virginia mountains…

1. Very few of the mountain people were educated
2. There was no theater or sporting events
3. There were no amusement parks
4. There were no telephones, internet, television, or radio

The entertainment was the camp meeting and the many revivals. The sermons were also encouraging and the people loved to hear the shouting that would go along with the heartening message. There was also something called the after service in which at times would roll on into the wee hours of the morning. In our Pentecostal Holiness church here in Virginia there were many of services that would roll on into the wee hours of the morning. My grandmother use to go home before the after service would begin. She told me many times that my grandfather would sometimes not get into bed until 4 AM, and would have no trouble arising again for work not many hours hence. There were also many times that you could literally ‘church hop.’ Sometimes a church service would let out and you had plenty of time to visit another revival. We had a couple from Roanoke lead bible school one year who had time to do their act in the evening service at our church and then go to a revival at their church in Roanoke and have time to shout a little there too.

I listen to BBNRadio and heard Lowell Davey describe those times as such…
“I like the old paths, when moms were at home, Christians rejoiced because they had victory, preachers preached from the bible, singers sung from the heart, and sinners turned to the Lord to be saved. A new birth meant a new life, salvation meant a changed life, and following Christ led to eternal life. Now being a preacher meant that you proclaimed the word of God, and being a deacon meant that you would serve the Lord, and being a Christian meant that you would live for Jesus, and being a Sinner meant someone was praying for you. Now the laws were based on the bible, people read the bible, the church taught the bible. Preachers were more interested in converts than in new clothes and new cars. God was worshipped, Christ was exalted, and the Holy Spirit was respected. Churches were where you found Christians on the Lord Day, rather than out in the garden, on the creek bay, on the golf course, or being entertained somewhere else. I still like the old paths best, sisters got married before having children, crime did not pay, hard work did and people knew the difference. Moms could cook, dads would work, and children behave. Husbands were loving, wives were supporting, children were polite. Women wore jewelry and men wore the pants. Women looked like ladies and men looked like gentlemen, and children looked decent. People loved truth and hated a lie; they came to church to get in, not to get out. Hymns sounded Godly, cursing was wicked and divorce was unthinkable. The flag was honored, America was beautiful, and God was welcomed. We read the bible in public, prayed in schools, and preached from house to house. To be called an American was worth dying for, to be called a Christian was worth living for, and to be called a traitor a shame. Sex was a personal word, homosexuality was not mentioned, and abortion an illegal word. “– As heard from Dr. Lowell Davey’s “Perspectives” on bbnradio.org.

Also to be noted is that the people did not stay in the house in those days. They were out socializing, playing, fishing, hunting, in chores, and making the most of God’s creation. If a child was in a house on a bright and sunny day chances are that the parents would tell them to go outside and find something to do. But, most of the time the family was out on pretty days gardening and doing rural things.
If there is a note that must be made about the old Wabash camp meetings is that they were John Wesley Southern Methodist open air meetings, not to be confused with…

1. Orthodox or Catholic
2. Fundamentalist (Baptist or Presbyterian)
3. Pentecostal
4. Charismatic

With that foundation laid, let’s return to the Wabash Campgrounds just a few miles northwest of my grandparents homestead. The Wabash camp meetings were held in August and were intended to be something that everyone looked forward to. As these were Wesleyan meetings you could expect them to be spiritually charged. This was also a time to get acquainted with all the dear souls of like faith and to meet new friends. It would not surprise me that Robert met his first wife at the Cripple Creek camp meetings and Eliza at the Wabash camp meetings. I also believe that it was in Robert’s Itinerary to go to the Cripple Creek camp meetings, which were held in September, well into the 1880’s.

The Wabash Campground was like an amphitheater. Referencing the photo below the preaching would be to your left, and the main crowd in front of you working its way up the hill. When the speakers preached their voices would carry up the hill. The acoustics of the place made it possible for a preacher to preach to 5,000 people without the help of a microphone. The meetings must have been awesome as they drew Robert away from the Cripple Creek area. Also, his house in Staffordsville sat almost on top of the campgrounds. Here is a photo that was taken from the Roanoke Times in the 1970’s of the old Wabash Camp Grounds. The only thing that remained of it was an old chimney.

I would also imagine to the left a large portion of ground with mourners benches in a straw bed. This would be to receive those who would come for salvation and for sanctification in the after service.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 17
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Page 393-399- In Preparation of the 1895 Camp Meeting… Which would be the best one yet!
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Here is a picture of my family around 1900 AD. This is the kind of people you could expect at the camp meetings. Though the people were poor they took great delight in looking like a million dollars and prized decency and right living.

And there is one more important virtue to be brought to bear… they were upright without being arrogant….

Returning to the story…

Whenever he ran out of Methodists to minister unto (or simply commiserate with) he would share his time and thoughts with Presbyterians, Baptists, or the non-religious.

The first week of August brought restlessness that now came as regularly as this rising sun. “Bringing in the sheaves, my brother, bringing in God’s harvest. That’s what we are doing,” Robert defined their solicitations during the weeks before camp meetings began. Planned for the following year of 1896 was a full five-day meeting as in the old times. Again, for this year, they would content themselves with the four days of Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday.

Robert’s compromise with Eliza was that he ride alone no farther west than Tazewell County, and the northern, eastern, and southern limits of his missionary work were to be Mercer County, West Virginia; Craig County; and Carroll County, respectively.

“Gideon. No matter how old a woman gets she doesn’t really mellow much. When I get to heaven I’m going to ask my sweet Lord why in His great plan of nature the heads of all the good sisters are shrunk last. It happens long after their bodies begin to wither, Gideon. Long after.”

There was no way of condemning Eliza, singly, for the prohibitions and compromises. All his brothers of the cloth that he knew about had deserted him altogether and sided with his wife. Such a sorry state of affairs only underlined more fully the deterioration of the world and mankind’s untrust-worthiness. The Disciples only accomplished as much as they did by sticking together, and one Judas was one too many for any era.

Robert traveled his limited territory and covered it better than perhaps ever before. He found the district circuit ministers cooperative if unenthusiastic. Often they not only gave him the time for his announcement but asked him to pray or give a short exhortation. Between villages and churches he would visit as many homes as possible to spread the word.

The last week before the camp meeting was spent in the western-most territory. No people’ were closer to his heart than those in Tazewell, His final day in the area, before he had to rush back to Wabash, he spent with the worshipers of the North Tazewell Methodist church. His heart was happier than it had ever been. His nearly concluded work seemed like the great climax of a divine commission with which his God was pleased. The night’s rest had! Been good, and he had shared the table of the Gussabus family whom he had loved for so long.

He came into the church expecting to hear the vibrant young minister he had met just the day before, a fine young man, Robert felt right off, so impressive, in fact, that Robert had had the spontaneous feeling of having come upon a modern-day St. Paul. The same young minister, however, deferred to “an old soldier of the cross,” and Robert found himself standing in a pulpit he had never expected to be in again (though it had been his pleasure many times during earlier years).

The congregation listened patiently as Robert told them from what heritage they had sprung and asked them to consider prayerfully where they were going. In closing, he said, “Each year you seem to get a little further away from me, though I know the sweet Lord is not stretching the land. We will pray together once more, for we may never meet again in this world.” Reached his ears, and he looked up sharply. “Oh no, we will not be unhappy. Never in all of the life my sweet Lord Jesus has given me have I been so blessed and joyous.”

He asked the resident minister if a special song that he liked could be sung, and it was done. Finally the prayer he bad promised them emerged from his throat, with great effort: ‘’’Oh Lord, when we come to die, grant that we may die shouting; and when soul and body are separated, may a covey of angels escort our blood-washed spirits to the skies where we may sweep through the Celestial Gates into the city of God. There we can dip our wings in the crystal waters of the Sea of Glory and then perch upon the Tree of Life and shout and sing evermore. Make us then a sea of tree molasses, and a fritter-cake tree to grow right up through the middle. Send an angel up to shake the fritter down, give us a golden fork, and let us dip in and live forever.”

No stops were to be made between Tazewell and Staffordsville. There was no time. One day stood in reserve until the camp meetings started, and that day could best be used in making advance preparations. Leaving Tazewell on Tuesday morning, Robert turned Gideon eastward down the Clearfork valley, the most direct route back to Staffordsville.

By midday Rocky Gap remained but a short way in the distance. “Gideon, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. If it suits your fancy, we’ll just stop and share the Lord’s bounty on the table of Dr. Bishop.”

Dr. William Bishop was more than a friend; Robert had long thought of him as almost a coworker. The two men were near the same age, Dr. Bishop being Robert’s junior by four years. Sometimes in brotherly jest Robert would refer to his friend as “Dr. Moses,” for the good doctor looked in physical appearance as Robert envisioned Moses might have appeared, plodding onward toward the Promised Land. Dr. Bishop wore a long white beard and let his silver hair grow long until it swept over his ears and neck with the symmetry of a turkey’s wing. His eyes were steel-gray and clear, with a sharpness almost piercing to the onlooker – in the opinions of some, an expression of angelic sadness. He was a tall man but not big boned for his height, except for a large head and prominent nose.

The man was more than a doctor. He was a good farmer and a shrewd politician, with time left over to serve his fellow man. He was the founder of Bishop’s Chapel Methodist church, where Robert had often preached. Robert, in brotherly jest, had often accused the good doctor of well-hidden aspirations for the ministry, but the accusation was never confirmed nor denied. Still, William Bishop had done his share of missionary work and doubly blessed it with his gift of healing.

Robert tied Gideon at the barn gate of the spacious frame home and was admitted by D~. James J. Bishop, son of the elder Bishop by a second marriage.

“Tell your father I have not come with more paupers at my heel, Jimmy John; I only want a little piece of bread with honey on it and some milk if he can spare it.”

“You’re always welcome to that, and you know it without asking. As you can guess by my being here, Father is not well and he will not be able to sit at the table with us. I’m taking care of both our patients for the time being.”

Robert went to the elder doctor’s bedside and took his wrinkled hand and held it. Naomi Bishop sat beside her husband too while Robert admonished his friend to be out of his bed by the next day to attend the camp meeting at Wabash.

“I’ll be blessed if I can walk to the barn by this time next week,” William Bishop said with a weak smile.

“You’re looking in good health, Brother Sheffey,” Naomi Bishop said.

“Pshaw,” William Bishop said. “He looks as withered as I am, and I could plant pole beans in the lines of his face. We’re both two old nags too worn out to work and just don’t have sense enough to know it yet!”

When Mrs. Bishop left them to start the meal Robert told of his experiences in Tazewell. Rather than eating at the table and leaving his ailing friend alone, Robert asked to be served where he sat so the conversation being enjoyed could continue.

The two men talked on until Robert was aware of considerable time having passed by the corning and going of patients and the repeated striking of the grandfather clock in the parlor. Now it would be long after night before Gideon delivered him to Staffordsville.

“You have stayed too late.” William Bishop guessed aloud at Robert’s thoughts.

“I can still get home in time. I’d have missed a great blessing if we had not talked of our days together. I hope it’s brought as much joy to your heart as it has to mine – and wisdom too. There is something to be learned of affliction of the body and. the spirit, would you not agree? What is the one message that has come to you from out of the midst of it all?”

“Today of all days I’m not in the proper shape to philosophize. I’m not sure from my viewpoint I’ve gotten a clear-cut message. I know you want a better-defined answer than that. Maybe I could sum it up by saying that I have seen more than my share of human affliction. I suppose if I every man didn’t have his burden we wouldn’t all be in the pond together. That would be bad. We all need to be in the same boat. If too many of us were on safe dry ground there would be no concern for the others. Human hopes and troubles are the things which nail us together and give us a common goal and bond.”

Naomi Bishop went to the barn for Gideon, with Robert trailing behind her. His horse gnawed against his bridle bit as if the sweet taste of corn still played upon his lips, and Robert commanded the animal to stand still for mounting. Routinely he grasped the saddle horn, placed his foot in the stirrup, and swung upward. The pain struck him at the midpoint of mounting, and he called out with a little shriek before releasing his grip and falling to the ground. The feeling was one of having a knife plunged into his belly. He had fallen on his side, but he straightened a leg and repositioned his body until he lay flat on his back. His hand searched for the area of pain, and instead of finding a hole in his belly he felt a protrusion of soft tissue in the lower abdomen.

Naomi Bishop instructed him to lie still and he waited in no severe pain until the younger: Dr. Bishop knelt at his side. Robert had already figured out his difficulty as he had lain there and pushed his own intestines back into his body. Dr. Bishop confirmed the fact of his rupture. Presently he was on a day bed in the same room with William Bishop.

“A little rupture is not so bad, you can live with it. You’re just like too many people, Robert, you don’t have enough respect for the infirmities of the body. You have pulled yourself into that saddle thousands of times and this time Robert Sheffey’s body just said to Robert Sheffey, ‘I’m not going to do it any more.’ Now, we’re two old nags down and out, right here in the same stall!”

Robert was not in pain to any degree but tears almost came to his eyes anyway. There was almost mirth in the voice of his old friend at this unexpected misfortune, and for a moment Robert vowed not even to talk to William Bishop.

“Oh, Robert! Can’t you see the lesson of it all? We both think we’re so indispensable and that nothing should stop our plans, our work, our particular destiny. The world will not miss us one jot nor tittle if we never get out of these beds. We are, taught in our arrogance that we are just as subject to human frailties as any man.”

The truss felt like a miniature set of horse harness, but the soft kidney-shaped pad held his abdomen firm and, consequently, the mass of intestines remained securely in place.

Riding was not as uncomfortable as he’d supposed it would be, but the unfamiliar harness felt strange as he moved along on Gideon.

He arrived home in Staffordsville the opening day of the camp meeting. After getting the ‘Robert you are worrying me to death’ lecture from Eliza, both of them left in time for the opening evening service. Robert was set once again to exhort and to plead with those who would attend the camp meeting. As he was limited in his mobility this would be a camp meeting in the hands of the younger generation. In which… As you will read…. They will do the finest of jobs!

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 17
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Page 399-404- The Wabash Camp Meetings, August, 1895, The night the angels sang….
Note! This is account is a concoction of multiple accounts…

1. http://www.southwesttimes.com/2010/08/archive-5071/
2. Jess Carr’s Saint of the Wilderness
3. Willard Sanders Barberry’s “Brother Sheffey – A Christian who knew the Power of Prayer”
4. From countless conversations with the old timers of my area (I live 10-15 miles E of Trigg, VA)

And in the words of the internet author… “I can not vouch for the authenticity of this story, but can point out that all of the information was passed down by reputable ministers of the Methodist Church.”
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Robert and Eliza made it just in time for the camp meetings. Though missing out in the preliminaries at least he was there in time to exhort. It was customary for Eliza to sit with her family while Robert would sit on the front pews, ready to admonish and to exhort after the preacher was through with his message.

The time of exhortation would happen in which the people called the ‘After Service ‘ followed by prayer in which Robert had many times met petitioners in the straw. As Robert was not entirely well he would have Tyler Frazier lead the after service this year. The energetic Tyler was gifted in body as well as mind and emotionally dynamic. The Dr. E.E. ‘Ed ‘ Wiley and Dr. P.L. Cobb were in charge of the music service. The Dr. J.W. Perry from Abington was the main speaker and together assembled one fine camp meeting in the August of 1895.

Robert was at first taken aback at the young educated ministers, after having met them all superstitions melted away. He gradually became impressed with this brand of ministers and told Ed Bailey so, You did a fine job Brother Bailey, Robert said, This will be the finest camp meeting in years!

The Fathers of the Camp Meetings had alleged that there should be no such thing as mediocrity in a camp meeting; it was to be the greatest assemblage and the most thrilling occasion of religious worship known to the church. And this year was no exception. The organization of the meetings also modeled the preferred arrangement of services with bugles blowing before each event ‘

1. Early rise at 6 AM
2. Family prayer and breakfast ‘ Rachel Hicks again served as camp cook.
3. The general prayer and exhortation service was held at 9 AM
4. The first service of the day was held at 11 AM.
5. Dining at the noon hour.
6. 3 PM service with multiple speakers and exhortations
7. Dinner on the grounds
8. 7 PM service
9. The After Service ‘ Sometimes held until the wee hours of the morning.

Though the After Services were rolling along into the wee hours of the morning, to Robert ‘s amazement, they had no trouble rising again the next morning to do it all over again. The thrill to see souls liberated with faces lit as angels thrilled Robert through and through.

The people have got in a good way! They stay in the straw until they receive the Sweet Lord Jesus ‘ divine Holy Spirit; you can see the change light up their countenance! Robert would tell Eliza.

Robert still had the gift to rise from the straw during the After Service with his stories of crude illustrations, funny stories, and would generally have the crowd charged with crying, shouting, and rejoicing ‘ With emotions breaking out as a floodtide. Folks would fall in the Spirit and would sometimes need to be carried to their tent as the After Service came to an end. Due to the rupture and truss, Robert ‘s movements were limited to the front pew from which he sat and the straw that was to receive the many penitents ready to weep their way into the Kingdom of Heaven.

We have a fine speaker this year in Dr. J.W. Perry from Abington, Brother Bailey, the pastor of the Staffordsville circuit said.

Yes indeed! said Robert. The Lord be praised! I am much thankful for this year ‘s meetings! I have not seen such After Services!

On Sunday, the last night of the service, the day at the camp was one of intense religious fervor and deep emotion. At almost every gathering there were shouts and hallelujahs. The whole numbers of parishioners were about 5,000 and on fire for God with the experiences and many conversions.

On this the last night of the meetings, Dr. J. W. Perry from Abingdon was preaching from the eleventh chapter of Hebrews. He read the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth verses, saying, ‘For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country. And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned. But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: Wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city. ‘ Before he finished reading a feeling came over the people never felt since they were born in this world.

From the opening of the scriptures on the heavenly home a general excitement began to set in the camp. People began to vocalize their praise to the Lord, some with hands raised, some shouting. As the sermon progressed into what city God had prepared for them, with a golden light as the sun that shines through a great cloud, with numeral angels, 1,500 miles high, and the saints dressed in beautiful white garments all aglow with the light and the energy proceeding from God the Father, describing the celestial city like no man can, that the people's spirit were raptured away into a great elation, happiness, and ecstasy. Shouting, pacing the aisles with hands raised, weeping, a great floodtide of emotion in a service Robert had not seen the likes.

The alter was flooded with souls and the experiences grand. Dr. Perry asked to be excused for a time as he was totally exhausted. He then went to the preacher ‘s tent to lie down. Scores came forward as penitents and fell in the Spirit all about the shed. There was such a tremendous surge of emotion at that time that Dr. Perry hurried back under the shed to behold the glory that was happening all around him. Robert took to the alter work and exhortations with great delight. In these moments at the height of religious fervor Robert paused to take it all in. There on the front seats the old men sat weeping, they could only with pointed fingers and tears dripping down their cheek declare, The Holy Ghost! ‘ The Holy Ghost! as they looked on, souls laid about the alter with faces all aglow, the middle age men shouting, the rest of the camp hugging and enjoying love feast and the fruits of human fellowship. In his days at Emory and Henry Robert had studied the word Utopia, this was as close to the definition of the word as he could imagine.

Never have I seen such a great response to the Word! God be praised! The people have got it in a good way! Robert would cry as he worked the alter.

J. T. (Tyler) Frazier, in charge of the after-service, being the presiding elder then turned to the music minister and told him to sing ‘Jesus, Lover of My Soul ‘ as the singing was always a very important spiritual force. As usual, they were putting all they had into the singing and into the worship.

As they started the second stanza of this song a Ms Stafford called out above the sound of the voices of the congregation, Listen, listen, the redeemed hosts of heaven are singing. I hear the voice of my mother. Rev. Wiley then heard the singing, softer than human voices but clearly distinguishable through the remainder of the Stanza. A thrill came over the audience and many pressed toward the right of the building.

As the main speaker, Dr. Perry was in the straw with penitents, R.A. Kelley came up to him and declared, Don ‘t you hear it? The angels are singing! By then people were rushing out from under the shed, but some including Robert stayed and knelt with the penitents who remained in prayer, not knowing the cause of the ado, and not physically able to investigate. Those who claim they saw the heavenly figures stood with awe-inspired faces, still enraptured, others clung to each other; others chanted a barely audible ode of joy.

All the people who were on the right side of the shed were awestruck and excited. The ones who reported it first were on the outside of the shed and evidently called others out that way that they too might hear. They could hear better out from under the shed, and there was sweetness in the voices that they couldn ‘t explain ‘ they were much clearer and higher than human voices. The heavenly chorus didn ‘t sound like it was right in front of them but it didn ‘t sound far away either. It lasted only a little while; then the angels ‘ voices stopped just as quickly as they started. Everyone was convinced by the earnestness of those who heard the singing. In minutes total euphoria set in the camp with faces that were radiant with almost supernatural light.

There was no sleeping for the folks that night. All were aglow and very much raptured away with great elation. That night would yield to much human love and fellowship even after the sun arose on those Giles County Virginia Mountains. All early morning Robert would listen to testimonies, hug the necks of tear laded penitents, and listen to yet another account of the night ‘s miraculous event. Robert himself was confined to the mid section front pews and in the mourners straw, missing out on the heavenly event. It was mid morning, as he was slow in getting around, before he finally ran into the group of those who originally beheld the heavenly vision. As the people drew nearer he beheld a look of ecstasy and peace about them. Some of them hummed low and a few wept softly.

Oh, Brother Shelly, an elderly woman literally cried out to him, the angels sang!

The angels sang! A dozen voices echoed the original statement.

The ranks of faces, still enraptured, swelled about him.

Bless you for the testimony which you feel, but I cannot listen to all of you at once. Let Brother Suiter finish telling me what he has started, Robert said.

Suiter stepped forward. A step or two, and at closer range the look of haunted sublimity was even more pronounced upon his face. Before the preacher finished preaching I had a feeling I ‘ve never felt since I was born into this world, I can ‘t explain it to you very good, but my wife and others around us felt it too.

The important thing to me was that God was there. If there is more rejoicing in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance, we know what was going on in Heaven and, if a little of the music spilled over on to the joy under the shed, I am not surprised.

I felt it as well! Robert remarked, Now what exactly did you hear?

Suiter continued: We were sitting on one of the slab pews under the worship shed, near the north overhang of the roof. When the call to repentance and conversion came, numbers all around us started going forward, and those remaining started to sing ‘Jesus, Lover of My Soul. ‘ Before we had finished the first verse of the song a strange feeling came over me and I heard a high-pitched drone above my head ‘ like a swarm of bees going by. I looked around me and others just outside the shed in the open air were gazing toward the sky and pointing upward with their fingers. The people under the shed kept singing, and when the second verse of the song was started, Reverend Bailey stopped the singing and looked up toward the roof. Reverend Wagner, who had also preached that night and was still on the platform, called out in a loud voice above the singing, ‘Listen! Listen! The redeemed hosts of heaven are singing! I hear the voice of my mother! ‘ We all stopped singing, and one of your wife ‘s people, a Mrs. Stafford, recognized her mother ‘s voice.

By then people were rushing out from under the shed, but some stayed and knelt in prayer. We could hear better out from under the shed, and there was a sweetness in the voices I couldn ‘t explain if my life depended on it ‘ they were much clearer and higher than human voices. The heavenly chorus didn ‘t sound like it was right in front of us, but it didn ‘t sound far away either. It lasted only a little while; then the angels ‘ voices stopped just as quick as they started. All the faces turned up toward the moonlight looked like mirrors reflecting moonbeams, but we waited in vain: no voices were heard a second time.

Not for a moment do I doubt our sweet Lord ‘s presence in a very special way, I was busy in the straw with the penitents, I thought I was hearing the sound as if it was the passing of many humming birds, but dismissed what my mind was telling me, Robert smiled.

It was a miracle, Suiter breathed reverently,

Why do you say it was a miracle? Robert inquired.

I never heard the angels sing before, and many people felt things they ‘d never felt before. I did.

There is so much for our hearts and minds to see if we prepare ourselves. Only our sweet Lord knows if it was a miracle that you saw, but I believe otherwise. I believe from what you have told me that this blessed camp session has been so spirit-filled that many of you have been able to humble yourselves to a level of spiritual obedience that has allowed you to see the substance of life with more depth than most men ever see. Neither can we forget the earlier happenings of the session: many were converted, no doubt, and it has been said that there is more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance? It is not beyond reason nor divine dispensation that we have been shown only the heights of a very great happiness.

But it never happened before. A timid voice, more troubled than comforted, spoke out from the circle.

Have you ever felt yourselves more humbled and yielding before? Robert countered.

Suiter agreed they hadn ‘t ‘ and, furthermore, that this knowledge had been the main subject of the all-night discussion after the soul-shaking experience. Recounted also was a concern that if they had indeed witnessed a miracle, why had not all onlookers been aware of it.

When we go to the well and lower the bucket, we are not surprised when the bucket comes up full merely because we have not seen the bubbling water at its beginning. When we go to the spring and kneel to drink, we can see the water only as it seeps out of the rocks; but the source is no less real because it is born underground, beyond our vision. Dear brothers and sisters, what I am saying is that you have seen for only a brief while what is all around us ‘ what was already there. Bless you for your soul ‘s vision, and may it always strengthen you, as I can assure you that it will. Do not allow yourselves to think of this experience as the supernatural, but rather as a ride to the bottom of your well, on the well rope, wherein you have seen the source of all that is outpouring for you. The Bible tells us that we in our human frailties and arrogance see only through a glass darkly. What will our vision be when all the smoked glass is removed from before our eyes?

Even on Tuesday after the camp was broken nearly all of the participating preachers had remained. He found them to be shaken and humbled men, and Tyler Frazier confirmed all that Robert had already heard. He wandered about the grounds and the worship shed and finally came back to the preachers ‘ tent.

Lady Nick? Did she find her peace in this great awakening? he asked of Tyler.

She left before it happened, he said, reaching behind him and handing Robert the customary red flower. Robert smelled it and dropped it to the ground and with the heel of his shoe he crushed it into the soft soil. In a moment he was passing from view of his colleagues and climbing the hill laboriously ‘ with sheepskin prayer mat in hand.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 405-408- The 1896 Wabash Camp meeting


...Note... The 1895 Camp Meeting was the climax of this story. Though not an English major I did try to put you in the pew!

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The camp-ground sessions of the following year, 1896, were as successful – perhaps more so – than the very oldest participants could ever remember. Certainly Robert could recall none that had been better attended – nor more fevered. The phenomenon that had happened the previous year had much to do with this. The awe-inspiring experience and the resultant depth of vision were very much on the tongues of every man, woman, and child. While still on the lips of many, it was generally agreed that the response above was triggered by the events below, and that people were determined to worship this year with equal religious fervor.

Such was not to say that every aspect of the sessions had proceeded without incident. Near the close of the meeting camp constables had to confront several young toughs who had invaded the tent area, harassing some of the campers and breaking strict camp rules. One of these rules was a prohibition against smoking within the camp ground proper. Smoking itself was not forbidden, but, but the smoker was required to go to fringe areas or out onto the turnpike road. There were times that the latter rule set Robert and other camp committee officials to scratching their heads as to its wisdom. Some campers had brought the new cigarette-making machines with them, and the excitement created when these were demonstrated, or when the machine operators and the roll-your-own experts started having speed and efficiency contests, caused the preferred fervency of worship to suffer.

The incident of evicting the young ruffians was especially unpleasant; for it gave fuel to the fire of dissent from those who claimed that such excesses were fostered by large camp ground gatherings. It was an old argument, and one not altogether unfounded. As the camp attendance soared after the phenomenon of the year previous, the problem of managing such crowds also became increasingly difficult.

But the “no-smoking” rule was entirely defensible within the camp grounds on the basis of safety alone. The danger of fire had been explained to the hostile group of young men, but they had countered, “Push us around and you’ll have a fire around here that’ll toast chicken eggs a mile away!” Their threats were dismissed, and they were evicted from camp.

Two other matters weighed heavily on Robert’s heart, both of which had altered the habits and routines of the current camp-meeting season from those of recent years. Eliza’s health was failing, and she could not attend; nor could Eddie with his wife and family, who elected instead to stay with Eliza. Lady Nick had not come at all this year, and for all his hopes and prayers, Robert knew that they had not won her.

All in all it was a good year up to that point for Robert Sheffey. As the word of mouth from the previous camp meeting fueled the earnest, expectation, and excitement for revival, there was little need for him to promote it as in years past, and could thus spend more time at home with Eliza.

Eliza rallied during the first week of September and left her sick bed, instructing Robert to send her volunteer visiting nurse away. Robert stayed close home, for lasting strength seemed forever to have fled from Eliza. After seventy-six years all that seemed vitally alive about Eliza were the brightness of her eyes and a vivid alertness of mind.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 405-408- Farewell Wabash Campgrounds – You served the Master well!
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One Sunday he rode to Eggleston and preached, having hopes of leaving Staffordsville on Monday for a short missionary trip toward Dublin. Many had offered to stay with Eliza, and fall – when the prohibitions against his travel (a renewal of his earlier agreement with Eliza) would again be in effect – would soon be over.

On Monday, with Gideon saddled and ready by the front gate, Robert went back into the house to tell Eliza and her companion good-by a second time. An ominous black smoke was also rising from the area of the Wabash camp that he wanted to investigate. Suddenly a rider could be heard coming to an abrupt halt.

“Brother Sheffey! The camp ground is burning! It’s all burning!” a teen-aged lad called as Robert stood dumfounded on his own front porch. He looked to the west and could see the now billowing smoke rising grotesquely against and above the mountain range.

Arriving on the scene later, all that faced him were smoldering ruins. The worship shed was gone, along with all the cabins and semi-permanent tents; even a number of the white pine trees had gone up like an oil-soaked torch.

“Who has done this terrible thing?” he demanded of the assembled onlookers.

‘’We don’t know.” Many responded with the same answer.

He wandered about the grounds, surveying the smoldering pile of gray-black ashes until his face was blackened and hot. Tears fell over his cheeks until his water-streaked face took on the frightening look of an Indian warrior decked in battle paint.

“Who would, commit such an ungodly act to my sweet Lord’s holy place?” he pleaded anew.

A Wabash resident he recognized, one who lived the closest to the camp, ground, told all that any of them knew of the incident.

“Tell me again, Brother Eaton, I want to make sure I know I everything.”

“It’s like I said: this morning just before daylight I heard two or three riders going down the road, and they were riding hard. I didn’t think no more about it until breakfast, and then I heard my turkey hens stirrin’ up a fuss. I went out to see about them and saw the smoke from the camp ground. When I ran down there the whole camp was ablaze. It was set. I know it was set. There wasn’t just the shed burning every cabin was ablaze.”

A soft spoken farmer finally emerged from the crowd and said, “It doesn’t take much to recollect back about two weeks ago. All of you can’t be forgettin’ the threats made when that bunch of troublemakers got booted out of camp?”

“And they said if we were worrying about a little old cigarette fire they’d show us a real fire. I remember that.” Another said.

There was nobody, then, who said he didn’t remember the incident, but to what avail was the information now? A labor of love and a landmark and symbol of Christian work second only to the cross itself lay in the dust.

There seemed no reason to leave Staffordsville now, All Robert could do was wander from room to room and wipe away the tears of his terrible agony. He listened to the words of comfort his dear Eliza offered him as well as those of Tyler Frazier and Ed Bailey and others.

“Eliza, you must lift the prohibition against me and let me ride out this winter. Perhaps I can get up enough interest to rebuild the camp ground, by spring. That way we could have it finished by August in time for the sessions … “

Eliza would only look at him until the tears spilled down her cheeks. He did not make her say the words, “The prohibition still holds.” For it would pain her terribly. These days the task of living agonized her very bones, for she often complained the withered body could not keep pace with a soaring, searching mind.

A melancholy so deep as to silence his voice descended upon him. The thought that the camp ground would never be rebuilt caused him indescribable despair. “Eliza, I have failed,” he would whimper without control at the most unexpected times. “I have failed to live up to the great commission to the best of my ability. God has been so good to me and there is so much more that I should have done,”

“You have not failed, dear Robert, and your stewardship will live long after we’ve both passed into dust.”

Only if he could rebuild the camp ground could he live up to the assurances of Eliza. He told her so, and the weight of his sorrow now rested upon her shoulders as well as his own. The worry Robert was putting on her began to work harder against her already failing health.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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The Tribute to the Wabash Campground
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I would like to insert a farewell to the Wabash Campgrounds. These meetings were very much John Wesley type open air meetings, and that meant a floodtide of emotions, decency, love, and joy. The only comparison that I can find to describe the spiritual sensation of attending one of these meetings is in the old John Denver song, “Rocky Mountain High” where you can picture people gathered on a mountain ridge somewhere enjoying the clean mountain atmosphere and the fruits of human fellowship. Only in the Wabash meetings the “Rocky Mountain High” also included the sweet communion of the Holy Spirit…

But before faith came, we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed. Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster. For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.- Galatians 3:23-36

Also to be understood is that there was no need for the schoolmaster type preaching where dress and conduct were emphasized. When Christ was come into the heart there was no need for that type preaching. If you could get the petitioner sanctified so that he gets the Holy Spirit in the heart (‘in a good way’ as Sheffey would say) he will automatically align his ways to a higher standard…. Not because a doctrine told him so… But because he wanted to do it, because the Spirit itself led him in the right paths.

Give unto the LORD the glory due unto his name: bring an offering, and come before him: worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness. – 1 Chronicles 16:29
O worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness: fear before him, all the earth. – Ps 96:9

A divine object lesson would be in metaphor of a dog and his bone. Take the bone from the dog and he will bite you, because the bone is the only thing he has in the world for enjoyment. Offer the dog a steak and he will automatically drop the bone for that which is better. So the objective of the Methodist Camp Meeting speaker was to present a steak for those petitioners seeking for a deeper walk with Christ. Once the steak was presented the people would leave the inferior things of the world for it. Therefore the walk of holiness was portrayed as a beautiful walk.

As far as the camp meetings go… anyone can have them! Just throw up some tents, have someone bring some guitars, find someone that will give you a pleasant word from the Lord, make it warm and loving, and a decent time in the Lord, and there you go! You have a camp meeting! No matter what denomination you belong to! Wabash Campground, I salute you with that old John Denver song, “Rocky Mountain High!”

Rocky Mountain High: John Denver - YouTube

Note - The author of this song speaks of a man being born again in his twenty seventh year. Though this, rather sadly, does not refer to the awakening of that experienced at the Wabash Campground, it is close. The awakening to the things of Jesus Christ should be better than what we experienced in the world… A kind of new wine if you will.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 408-411- Farewell, Eliza Sheffey, you served your Lord and your family well!

Eliza lasted just days after the burning of Wabash Campground. Reading between the lines, this terrible event must have weighed heavily on her as well as Robert.

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By the middle of September Eliza had taken to her bed again. On September sixteenth, a high fever invaded her body and Dr. Daniel Stafford, her brother, sat solemn-faced at her bedside.

A few nights later, having fought intermittent fever, Eliza passed into the world of the dead. While Eddie and her nephew, Bowman Stafford, who had sat by her bed for over a week, and Dr. Daniel and others, kept a silent vigil over the sleeping body Robert held the lifeless hand of his faithful mate and sang “Twilight Is Stealing over the Lea.”

At her funeral he asked the indulgence of her family and neighbors to allow him to speak for a short while. It was his purpose to tell them how much Eliza Stafford had meant to him and to recount her virtues, which he wished not to be forgotten. They heard and they understood; their moist cheeks told him so.

Eliza was laid to rest in the Wesley’s Chapel cemetery. He could not help remembering the first time he had attended church there. It was when he had first come to love Eliza, whom he now committed to the earth. It seemed such, a short time ago.

He said no to Eddie and meant it, with regard to moving to Lynchburg. “I’ll find someone to look after me – now don’t you fret; I couldn’t be happy with city life, son, and you know it. I’m obliged for your loving watch care, but you’ve got your own family, and the sweet Lord will look after me. I’d a whole lot rather stay around the people I love and the hills and hollows I know, if you want the truth of the matter.”

The resting place of Eliza Sheffey is in Trigg VA. I have tried to decipher the inscriptions on her monument, obviously penned by her son Eddie Sheffey…

In memory of my mother Eliza W

Daughter of JJS & Margaret Stafford
Wife of Robert S Sheffey
Born October 13, 1820
Died September 21, 1896

A dutiful daughter, devoted wife, loving mother, and faithful Christian.

She rests from her labor and her works do follow her...

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 408-411- Fair Lodgings in the household of Aurelius Vest. Aurelius Vest was a carpenter, furniture maker, and undertaker. Robert would spend many hours in Aurelius’ shop watching him in his art of carpentry. We also give Jess Carr, the author of this story, the opportunity to introduce us to his great grandfather.
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Eddie brought his father a distant relative for a housekeeper, and, hearing Robert’s firm stand on the original proposal for the second time, he and his family returned to Lynchburg. Robert had lived in his house under the new arrangements only a few weeks when a surprising proposal was made to him. The occasion was the funeral of an old friend at Poplar Hill, conducted by his undertaker friend, Aurelius Vest. The solidly built Vest, a head taller than Robert, had said with friendly, dancing eyes, “Brother Sheffey, we want you to come and make your home with us.”

“Aurelius, God is good! I would never have told you, but you have answered my prayers! We have much in common, and you are good company and a fellow servant of the Lord. We will mean much to each other; I can think of no family I should sooner spend my remaining days with.”

The agreement had been that simple. He turned his house and all but a few belongings over to Eddie, and then moved in with The Vests. From the very first day of his new residence he felt a part of the little family he loved more every passing year since he had come to know them. He followed Aurelius about freely, sometimes watching him make caskets or do other cabinetwork in the woodworking shop. Other days he would go to the fields with him, or, if the occasion required, watch him prepare a body for burial. He loved Aurelius like a son, and there were those who told him that there was a great similarity between them, Aurelius and himself – in mannerism, godliness, and gentle temperament.

Aurelius Vest was a unique man; Robert came more and more to learn. Aurelius also loved and served the poor, and though Robert had rarely observed him do, it, it was said that he could construct a man’s casket, prepare his body, and preach his funeral with equal skill. Aurelius confessed readily that he had done it many times.

After Eliza’s death Robert had given up any semblance of maintaining a regularly scheduled itinerary, hut such a release from more formally scheduled duties did not stop him from riding out again in the spring of 1897 when the warm days of April came. Gideon did not show the signs of friskiness that he had displayed in former days, but the animal still walked with a spirited step.

“You may be fading, old friend, but you’ll still outlast me,” Robert said as he rode toward White Gate.

Just south of the village’ he overtook a man walking whom he recognized. It was George Carr who lived still farther to the south in an ancient log house on the north side of Walker’s Mountain; He was a great hulk of a man with large ears and work-swelled arms.

“Brother George, you’re walking with a lot of pep this morning – would you be in a hurry?”

George Carr said he was and with good reason. It was the twenty-first day of April and that morning his wife Sallie had given birth to their fifth child, a boy.

“What did you name your son?” Robert inquired.

“We’re calling him Jesse.”

“Much will be expected of him if he is to bear the name of the great King David’s father.”

“Maybe so, but I ain’t worried about nothing now except feeding another little mouth. That’s why I’m headed for the store – my hoe is wore out and I’ve got to get one and put out an extra row of potatoes and some corn.”

Robert continued taking short trips until early summer. Then the air of the mountains swelled his soul and body with such an intoxicating energy that he planned still longer ones, over much of his old territory, for the remainder of summer and into early fall. Unless Aurelius restrained him he would continue riding on into the winter, or until he felt physically unable to do so. Aurelius had been so kind about that, advising him only to be careful and not over tire himself, but otherwise giving him his freedom. He did not feel for a moment that this vigor would pass from him in less than a decade. God was so good to him. His recovery from his sorrow was now as complete as it ever could be, and the time was ripe to solicit help and support for the rebuilding of the camp ground.



Fair lodgings in the company of Aurelius Vest.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Excerpts from “Brother Sheffey” by Willard Sanders Barbery
Note – From the above book I read that Robert picked up his itinerary after the death of Eliza to just about the same degree as his younger days. I read of a very busy man all the way up until the winter of 1901.
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"This is a sweet and lovely evening-April 26,1897. I am now at or near Richland’s P.O. Tazewell county, Va. This letter is from your sweet friend. Robert S. Sheffey. The commencement of the 24th of this month about 7 months ago, my wife died after 12 o’clock in the night, and I have been working, and traveling, and preaching, and visiting more than common. I have been out from home right smart while ever since I saw you all last as I came through your part of the world. . . . The reason, partly, I write now is because I want you to attend to a little business for me. I saw a woman near Brother William Wrights. She lives south from Brother Wrights. Perhaps near the creek over there somewhere. I promised our sweet Lord to spare her $1.00 to get one dollar’s worth of calico to make her some clothes. She will remember it if you see her or send her word. I enclose the amount in the letter. Her name to the best of my recollection is Emiline or Madeline Ratliff. Get the calico at Dublin Depot at 5 cents a yard if you go over there or get it at Mr. Barbees at 5 cents a yard or at Mr. Banes at 5 cents a yard. It will get 20 yards. Get the calico. I would rather she would not get the money for fear she would spend it for something else. Keep count of the yards and the price …. I have been trying to fix my littIe business as I am getting along in years …. I send the one dollar to pay for the calico for Mrs. Ratliff. She seemed at one time to be hard run…”

“Meeting has been going on here about 2 weeks …. I have been in meetings at other places over on Clear Fork, at Graham, in Baptist Valley. On or near Indian Creek, in the Cecil neighborhood, at town of Jeffersonville. I have preached, sung, and prayed in secret a many a time and prayed in families and in public a many time since I saw you. The people have been very kind to me and my animal certainly. Spared me money at different times. I had to get clothes of different kinds and got some socks too. Glory to God and the Lamb.” - Letters from Robert Sayers Sheffey most probably to Aurelius Vest

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Here are some pictures taken from a recent trip to Trigg, VA

Wesley Chapel... Trigg, VA... This Methodist Church is where Robert would have met the then Eliza Stafford in the 1850's... Robert Sheffey is buried with the Stafford family to the far right of were I am standing... They leave the church open where you can sign the guest book and pray at the alter if you wish. There are dozens of old looking Methodist churches in this area that look exactly like Wesley's Chapel... The Methodist ruled this area in the late 1800s!

Here is what the Stafford house would have looked like when Robert first met Eliza in the 1850's, both the church and this house are the way the architecture looked during this time period (thats my Buell Lightning by the way... Wanna race?)...

Eliza's dad died in 1882... A year before Eddie takes off to Lynchburg....

Eliza's mother passed away in 1890 at the ripe old age of 90... I would imagine Eliza took care of her mother the eight years she was a widow...As Eddie would leave home in 1883, a year after Eliza's father passed away, I would sense Eliza spending much time with her mother while Robert was away. Eliza's mother's passing must have weighed hard on her along with the burning of Wabash Camp ground.

About a mile down a dirt road from Wesley's Memorial Chapel is the Sheffey Memorial Camp Ground where they are currently having the Sheffey Memorial Camp Meeting. It is a very remote area that looks like it would make a good Boy Scout camp.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 411-415- The Trip to Lynchburg – The first train ride and the observance of flypaper... I would imagine this is the ride from Dublin to Roanoke to Lynchburg back in the late 1800's... Roanoke VA made their own locomotives from 1883 until 1953.

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He came back from a trip one day to find a letter from Eddie, demanding that Robert come to Lynchburg on July Fourth for his seventy-seventh birthday. Inside the letter was money for a train ticket, along with the usual check that was sent periodically for some of Robert’s needs and expenses. At first Robert refused to go, but he later agreed to make the trip, looking forward to the train ride with a mixture of delight and trepidation.

He rode Gideon to Dublin, where he was to catch the train and left the animal at the livery, with detailed instructions on how he was to be fed, thrice repeated (and with the additional admonition: “Put tree molasses on Gideon’s com – he’s getting old and he likes it better that way&#8221, until he should return.

He purchased the ticket with a great deal of difficulty, and then stood by the track, trembling like a badly frightened child. Presently the fearsome blast of the oncoming steam engine quieted and the wheels squealed to a halt at the loading platform. He was taken to a comfortable seat by a uniformed man who seemed godly enough and who gave him much more attention than other passengers were receiving, even brushing a piece of lint from Robert’s long white beard and smiling a friendly smile. Robert thought the act was one of fraternal charity and decided then and there to write the president of the railroad and compliment him on the courteousness of his employees; furthermore, he would declare that a prayer would be said on his behalf. He placed his sheepskin prayer mat upon the seat, sat back, and waited.

The start of the train snapped his head forward, and frantically he reached for the seat in front of him and held on. He did not release his grip until they came to the town of Christiansburg, some fifteen miles’ distant and only then at the insistence of the conductor. He started to get off the train at Roanoke, sure that, such a sprawling collection of buildings had to be Lynchburg and that Eddie waited to meet him. He was restrained with gentleness by the conductor, whom he liked better the farther the train traveled, but who in turn seemed to be showing a decidedly growing impatience with him.

With the, outskirts of Roanoke behind them, he sat back and let his full weight rest against the seat. It was a wonderful way to ride; the movement was much gentler than that he felt when upon Gideon’s cantering back. Suddenly he was completely at ease. Then his eye caught a hanging strip of paper coming down from the ceiling of the coach. He studied it closely for a moment and squinched up his eyes, trying to make out what the black dots on the paper were. Reluctantly he turned and asked the well-dressed woman behind him what the strip was. She remained reserved, and her passive face seemed to be making a silent inquiry as to whether his question was serious or not.

“Good sister, I said I did not understand what the paper was hanging from the ceiling for!”

“It’s flypaper,” she said, with a friendlier look now.

“What paper?”

“Flypaper. It has sticky glue on both sides of it to catch the flies in the coach and kill them. They’re such a nuisance, you know.”

He observed the flypaper jiggle about in the breeze from the open window and dance to the rhythm of the rolling wheels. With close concentration he could see the flies soar up from the floor and become fastened by wing or leg to the quagmire of glue that would never release them.

The more he watched, the less he could stand the sight. He rose from his seat and picked off each fly as gently as he could, dropping them into his hat and taking care to cover the opening with a red bandana. He could not rescue all of them from their sticky grave, and sometimes they came off minus a leg or wing, but he finished the task and headed back toward his window seat to set the captives free.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18

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Excerpts from “Brother Sheffey” by Willard Sanders Barbery

Note: Robert Sheffey would make several trips to Lynchburg from 1897 to 1901.

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Sheffey made occasional visits to the home of his son, Eddy, at Lynchburg. Edward Sheffey loved his father with all his heart and during his visits to the city he always tried to entertain him with the greatest consideration and affection. But the ways of the city were not the ways of the man who had given his life to his people of the hills.

Writing from Lynchburg he said: “The people here who know how to be polite, they are very much so indeed. Some of them eat their provisions with a fork. But dry white sugar runs through in between the prongs and can’t navigate good. They have a way to catch flies on a sticky piece of paper. And I tried to get the dear things out and some would fly away and some would die and some stick, and I would pour water on them to relieve them but could not.” He said that he enjoyed the “good provisions, good ice water, and ice cream called orange ice cream, and other good things,” since he had arrived in Lynchburg.

He visited the “female college,“ while on this visit, and said, “It is a great large building certainly. One man, Dr. Smith, gave about $11,000 and one man. Brother Petty. John gave about $5,000. Dr. Smith was the man who got the project started, or my sweet Lord, he and Brother Pettyjohn. I got hold of him (Dr. Smith) after Sabbath School and embraced him, or hugged him, in consideration of his great benevolence.”

When he would go to visit his son in Lynchburg he would usually ride across the mountain from Staffordsville to Dublin. Here he would take the train, but first there must be proper arrangements made for the care of his horse. At the age of 81 years he made one of his visits. In his writings we find these words: “May the sweet Lord help me and my animal in going to Lynchburg and returning from Lynchburg. Show me when to get on the cars or train. Please Sir. And take care of my horse in my absence. Show me how to get him cared for; show me how to get a minister’s ticket if this is your sweet will. May I be privileged to spend the 4th of July, 1901, at Lynchburg, at ‘Eddy’s’ home. Nearly 81 years ago I saw the light first and was born on July 4. 1820. At Ivanhoe, Wythe county, Va. May I live as long as my dear Lord wants me to live. Glory to God! Lord you are so sweet, and good, and noblehearted, kind, and affectionate, and my benefactor.”

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Excerpts from “Brother Sheffey” by Willard Sanders Barbery

Notes on the life of Edward Fleming Sheffey… Before the train arrives in Lynchburg… Let’s examine the life of Eddie Sheffey in the light of the Lynchburg News. It looks like he worked his way up into the office of vice-president of a dry goods company at the time of his father’s visits… Not bad for a Giles County country boy! The ‘Sweet Lord’ indeed blessed the home of Edward Sheffey!

1. 1865 – Eddie Sheffey is born
2. 1883- Leaves home for Lynchburg at the age of eighteen
3. 1890 – Eddie marries Miss Mattie Elizabeth Mahood
4. Robert A Sheffey – First son studied architecture in France during WW1, educated at Cornell University.
5. Edward Sheffey Jr – Educated at Harvard and also fought in WW1, worked in Washington DC afterwards.
6. Charles PM Sheffey – Doctorates degree at John Hopkins University, served as missionary and evangelist in the Congo.
7. Ms Charles Phillips Mahood Sheffey – Wrote a book about her husband called the “Congo Tides.”
8. John M Sheffey – Went to Harvard and became a prominent Wall Street lawyer.
9. Coke Smith Sheffey – Educated at the University of Chicago and worked with the Quinn-Marshall firm.
10. Max Sheffey – Worked as a salesman.
11. Ms Grace Sheffey – Educated at William and Mary and worked with the Methodist orphanages in Richmond.
12. Elizabeth Sheffey – Died a few weeks after birth.

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Edward Sheffey was educated in the public and private schools of Giles County and the first position he ever held was on the Pearisburg, Virginian. Before he was sixteen years old, when he first came to Lynchburg from Pearisburg, he was with Nowlin Brothers, wholesale grocers. Later he joined the firm of Guggenheimer Co., wholesale dry goods, later becoming vice-president and secretary. He left that concern in 1904 to join Craddock-Terry Company.

Mr. Sheffey had been secretary-treasurer, credit manager and a director of the Craddock-Terry Company. Was a member of the board of trustees of the Randolph Macon system of colleges and schools and chairman of the executive committee of Randolph-Macon Woman’s College. He also served as a member of the Lynchburg school board. He had held several official positions in Court Street Methodist Church and was superintendent of the Sunday School from 1891 to 1927-36 years.

He was a member of the board of aldermen from 1915 to 1920, being president of that body at the time the Cameral council gave way to the present form of government. He was very active for years on behalf of the Y. M. C. A. and the Anti-Saloon League, and was a director of the National and Lynchburg Credit Men’s Association. At one time he was a member of the Sunday School board of the Virginia Methodist Conference and was vice-president of the Virginia State Sunday School Association from 1911 to 1916. He was president of the Y. M. C. A. for a considerable time. In 1924 he was a member of the extension committee of the International Lions Club. Being a charter member of the Lynchburg club. He was also affiliated with the Masons, Odd Fellows and Junior Order of the United American Mechanics.”

To be said of Edward F. Sheffey that there was not a phase of community activity in which he was not interested and few in which he did not take an active part. In church, in business, in education, in charity, and welfare work, in fraternities, and in politics he was prominently allied with some agency. There was nothing perfunctory in his allegiance to any cause or to any movement. Once engaged in any enterprise he was aggressively enthusiastic and energetic. Calm and unruffled, even deliberate in his movements, he radiated energy. Was unrelenting in his devotion to the work at hand, always pressing ahead and always urging on his fellow workers. He was a member of the Sunday School board of the Virginia Sunday School Association. In a that time his attendance at church service was regular and his work unremitting, He was active in work for the Young Men’s Christian Association, serving as director and president for many years. He was on the board of the Randolph-Macon system of colleges and chairman of the executive board of Randolph Macon Woman’s College. He was actively interested in public schools and in their development.

The religious and educational work of Mr. Sheffey is mentioned first because that is the way he appraised the relative importance of his activities. But in business he was just as active and just as efficient and as tireless in his application.

His other activities can but be sketched. Member of the city council for five years. During part of which time he was president of the board of alderman, he worked in public affairs as in church and business. He served as member of the executive committee of the Virginia Anti Saloon League, as director of the National Credit Men’s Association, as member of committees of Lions International and was member of the Masonic order, of the Odd Fellows, the Junior Order of American Mechanics and Oakwood Country Club.

In the course of a long and active life Mr. Sheffey made many friends and some enemies and few were lukewarm. He was not a man to make lukewarm attachments or indifferent opponents. But it may be said that while he kept his friends, animosities did not persist.

 

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The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 411-415- The Trip to Lynchburg – The visit with Eddie – In which I am sure not a few embarrassing moments with his countrified father. Robert gets attacked by a bear. With excerpts from “Brother Sheffey” by Willard Sanders Barbery

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When they got to Lynchburg he was the first one helped off the train, and if Eddie and his wife had not been waiting, he would have gone back on the train to thank the brother for the special care he was sure he had gotten.

Mattie Mahood Sheffey, his daughter-in-law of six years duration, unveiled a birthday cake his very first night at their city home. Having shared it with his grandchildren, and making a sustained effort to reacquaint them with him, he fell into bed exhausted and still a little frightened at his new experiences.

Eddie took him for a tour of Lynchburg on the second day. “Then I will take you and show you how shoes are made,” Eddie said to him. “That will get you away.” Afterwards Eddie took Robert to the Anti-Saloon league meeting where Robert was impressed with the upright nature of all the ‘Good Brothers.’ And had a many of good story to tell of his own war against the liquor trade. Not only in the Methodist associations, but all of the fine fellows from Eddie’s many clubs and social contacts had many of interesting conversation with this old saint.

With visits to the Methodist church there in Lynchburg he met with many fine and interesting people. He was a little more animated in church then what the people were accustomed to, but Eddie passed up his father’s antics with a smile. As Robert’s shouts of praise were melodious in nature it was a welcome sound to any ear. Robert was thrilled to learn of Eddie’s righteous participation in the Lynchburg affairs and was impressed with the many Godly acquaintances in his son’s life. During the fourth night they all had family time together in which Robert would sit, do devotions, interact with his grandchildren, and have prayer.

Robert promised to stay another day or more if he had some spacious place to walk. Eddie announced that he would leave him at the city park during the day and bring him home after work; in the meantime all the open acres that the city owned could be explored.

The next morning Robert, with sheepskin prayer mat and packed lunch in hand, took his first streetcar ride. The moving contraption sizzled like a swarm of bees and his ears rang until he could hardly hear his son’s instructions to get off at the next corner – the site of the city park. He approached the partially manicured expanse of green with a great deal of caution. Young women with children and old men (much, much older than himself, he was sure) sat about in the grass or upon the benches. He wondered if one had to pay to sit there. It mattered little, for he had his sheepskin and he would recline on the ground. Eddie had offered him money but be refused all but enough to buy milk to have with his lunch.

Presently he placed his sheepskin on the grass under the shade of a large catalpa tree. The little children played with squealing delight and he wondered what good man had given of his land so others might enjoy God’s bounty even in the very heart of a great city.

At midafternoon some point of interest near the street corner at one end of the park seemed to attract the public attention. All the children went running in that direction. He paid them no mind until the tempo of excitement rose, and then curiosity overcame him. As he came closer to the corner he still could not see exactly what was exciting the large crowd. He gave a gentle poke to the back of an old man who seemed only able to stand with the support of a sourwood cane and said, “Good brother, can you tell me what is going on?”

“Eh?” The other cupped his free hand to his ear while Robert repeated.

“A bear, you say? I don’t understand,” Robert said with raised voice. “A real live bear?”

“The man and the bear come to the park every Fourth of July and stay a week -, or as long as he can sell anything,” the old man said.

Robert inched closer and got a good view of the street vendor and his chained pet. The owner of the pet was as roly-poly as his animal and though the vendor appeared to be jollier, the bear seemed a great deal smarter; judging by the tricks he was doing. The animal could roll over, end over end or a Harrell roll; stand on his head; dance a little jig; and gnaw at an’ apple held with both paws just like a man. The more ingenious the bear’s act, the more the children and adults seemed to buy of the vendor’s wares.

Robert came nearer. He now stood only twelve or fifteen feet away. The bear pointed his nose skyward and sniffed loudly, swinging his nose from right to left. Suddenly a bloodcurdling growl escaped the open jaws and bared teeth of the animal, and he stood upright on powerful hind legs. The ferocity of the growl sent the crowd scattering and brought a look of terror to the street vendor’s face. The animal now stood a, head taller than his owner, and he faced Robert, who also was retreating backward.

Without warning the animal lunged forward until he was on all four feet and free of his master’s restraining hand. The animal’s chain dragged noisily along the sidewalk as he picked up speed. His obvious point of interest was Robert. Robert lunged for a tree, but all points of safety were occupied and instantaneously he was trapped in the open. The bear came on at full gallop, and with one final lunge snapped his jaws on the sheepskin Robert held in his hands. With crazed growls the animal sent wool balls and sheep, hide flying, until the smallest shred of the mat that was left would not have provided comfortable seating for a bullfrog.

Having completed his apparent task, the bear’s temper seemed slowly to be coming under control again. The street vendor yanked frantically at the chain he had managed to catch up with. All was peaceable and quiet again long before highly excited policemen with drawn Billy clubs and. one ancient-looking gun appeared on the scene.

Robert assured them that he was unhurt and admonished “the brothers” not to do anything to the vendor or his bear. Soon the children were playing in the grass again and the vendor had his arm about Robert’s aged drooping shoulders, continuing to apologize in foreign-sounding, staccato words.

“Do not fret. My brother,” Robert said. “There is a great lesson in a bear. I’d like to tell you about some scripture in Proverbs where the sweet Lord compares a sinner to a bear. Let a man meet a she-bear robbed of her cubs rather than a fool in his folly the bible declares in Proverbs 17:12... Now it goes like this … “

A replacement for the sheepskin was not procured until he got to Dublin on the return journey. After taking Gideon from the stable he rode to the farm of a friend and part-time tanner and selected a well-tanned skin, lush with bleached-white fleece.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Back home in Giles County, VA. The Cascades is just a few miles from the old Robert Sheffey residence... Let's take a walk! This is very rugged country!
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Virginia Cascades Slideshow - YouTube

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 415-419- The Journey to Richlands, VA – 100 miles away!
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After he had told Aurelius and his family, as well as numerous other friends who had gathered, about his trip and the adventure of the bear he set immediately to work. His mail volume was still very large in spite of the curtailment of activities. He could no longer write well, for the joints of his bands, swollen and gnarled, would not hold a pen to good effect. Even his drawing, which was not as intricate as penmanship, was adversely affected. A neighborhood girl helped with his correspondence, but no one could help him put the visions of his heart and mind into pictorial form.

“My sweet Lord has not removed this talent from my mind, but He has taken from me my ability to perform.” He would say; adding, “The loss is not a sorrow to my soul, for He blessed me for so long, as many rocks and trees still show forth with my illustrated testimony.”

When the days became longer he would try to paint or sketch anyway, laughing at his awkwardness all the while. Many of his neighborhood friends liked to watch him. One Brother Warner seemed especially thrilled at seeing familiar scenes committed to paper or slate, and he often told Robert what a powerful man and famous’ artist he might have become had the vocation been pursued seriously.

“Why you mighta been a rich citizen and, mayor of all New Jersey,” Brother Warner would say.

“Brother Warner, the good Judge Porterfield once told me in Pearisburg that all the fruits of the world could be divided into two things: love and power. He wisely said that no man could ever have both. The sweet Lord has never let me be sorry for the choice I made.”

During the winter Aurelius did not forbid him to ride out on short trips, with the understanding that the family was to be informed where he was riding to, and the approximate travel time required to go to and from the planned destination.

“Aurelius, you are wise. You know I could not live without my freedom.”

When the warm spring of 1898 blossomed forth, the freedom was even more unrestrained. He felt younger than he had in five years, and he told Aurelius so. But his friend hesitated when Robert outlined his plan for a long trip to the town of Richlands, some hundred odd miles away.

“But Brother Sheffey, that’s almost to the Kentucky border,” Aurelius rebuked him gently. “You are nearly seventyeight years old … you oughten to try a trip like that … the riding will wear you down.”

In all honesty Robert had considered that possibility. Eliza had not lived long enough to make him go to Richmond for surgery on his rupture. But the reasons for making this trip were a great deal stronger than any combination of reasons for staying. He told Aurelius so.

“A dear old friend has written me to assist him in a revival at Richlands. I love him so much, Aurelius, and he needs me. He tells me that the country is booming with new riches and that the people have become ungodly and wild in their ways. I want to go to him and help him with the Lord’s work.”

But Aurelius did not give his consent. Then, in a few days. He asked Robert if the trip could be made by train. He told Aurelius that part of it could, but still, it was not his preference to go by that method. He loved the western-running valleys and mountains, and he longed to sit astride Gideon’s back and watch the tilled and well-kept farms go by. And who could stop by a fence row or by a cool limestone spring while on a train? Even the nicest of conductors would not halt the train while he talked to the members of God’s creation as they walked while talked to the members of God’s creation as they walked effect the rebuilding of the Wabash camp grounds it would be necessary to visit many people and churches along the way, going and coming.

Robert urged Aurelius to come to a decision, for the planned revival at Richlands was to be held the Third week of June and time was running out. His colleague would need to know Robert’s answer. Aurelius pondered the question for a fortnight, while there were hushed conferences of family, friends, and neighbors. Finally the answer and the conditions were outlined.

“Brother Sheffey, we know how much this means to you, but we all question the wisdom of it. We don’t need to tell you that it is our love for you and the possibility of accidents that makes us hesitate. Maybe there is a solution. If you will promise to ride just a little part of the way per day, and tell us at the end of each day’s journey who you will plan to stay with, you can go with our blessing. We will expect you to send a letter every day so we will not be worried.

Robert agreed to the conditions and sent a letter of confirmation to his friend. On the eleventh day of June he pointed Gideon westward … The first full day he rode as far as Bland. Now only twenty miles from his new home.

“Gideon, we told Aurelius we would stay at the Allen Newberry house tonight. Sister Nancy is the third Sister Newberry, and she puts too much soda in the biscuits – far too much. The first sister, Elizabeth Newberry, never cooked the biscuits long enough, and, the second, Sister Car-o-line, made them too flat, just like stepped-on mashed potatoes. Every time I got one of the good sisters’ doing to suit me, they’d pass on and Brother Allen would get another. And Brother Allen is gone now too, Gideon. Bless their sweet lives – I love them so much.”

By taking short jaunts of a few miles each day to schedule stops and familiar places, the communities of Ceres, Broadford, Claypool Hill, Cedar Bluff, and a host of much smaller villages were traversed. He arrived at Richlands on the last possible day. He had not planned it thus, but time had run out so quickly as his visits and appeals for the camp-ground rebuilding stretched from minutes to hours and from hours to days. And how much the world was changing! Places he had visited just five or ten years previously now swelled with people and changing terrain. Wherever he went – to church or home – he met with politeness, and often in the house of a really old friend or former coworker the spirit of welcome was one reminiscent of the happiest of former days. The business of the camp-ground restoration was another matter. The people west of Ceres reminded him how far removed from the camp grounds they were, and though their ancestors had journeyed the long distance, there was no longer need of it with modern churches now at their doorstep. He couldn’t dispute this. He had seen a dozen churches built within the past five years of his absence. He refused to be discouraged, however. The real support for the camp-ground rebuilding would be in areas immediately surrounding Giles County, and he would work that territory later. Ed Bailey and Tyler Frazier were doing part of the legwork at this very moment, and he would soon join the effort.

 

[rockytopva]

The Saint of the Wilderness Chapter 18
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Page 419-422- The Laodicean ways invade Southwest VA
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Richlands was a hilly town of diverse businesses following the terrain of the land, located less than twenty miles south of the West Virginia border and not more than forty miles southeast of the Kentucky border. As he rode through the town he felt a strong sense of the rampant gaiety that obviously pervaded the area. The dirt streets were crowded even at midday, and merchandise stores were doing a bustling business. Voices were frequently at high pitch and humor crackled back and forth between horseman and pedestrian. The staggering form of a drunk man was seen more than a dozen times: twice in a matter of half an hour he had lifted the body of such a man (unable to walk at all) out of the street and saved his from being crushed by the hurried and frequent wagons of commerce.

“What has happened here, Brother Bandy?” Robert asked when his old colleague had been located.

“Half of the county has become drunken with prosperity, Brother Bob. To start at the beginning I guess we’d have to go back to eighteen-ten. A mighty freshet exposed a seam of coal in this area, and the influx of people started from that. Anyway, by eighteen-seventy a blacksmith named Jordan Nelson opened up a commercial mine not many miles from here, and before long he had cheap coal – at a penny per bushel, mind you - going in every direction. They were using the stuff glassmaking, iron forging, and even to heat the kitchen stove with. To make a long story short, the mule trains got longer, came more often, and used the light of the moon to stretch the work day. The railroad wrote the rest of the story by itself.”

“And now prosperity takes the place of godliness and the tavern replaces the church –“

“And in not a few cases, the brothel has taken the place of the home.”

The following morning Robert accompanied his host to the site of the planned revival. His colleague’s small mountain church at the fringe of the town was being augmented with a large tent to be used in conjunction with the main building.

“We’ll use the regular pulpit, but the big double doors at the back of the church will be removed and we’ll look from the pulpit directly into the tent.”

“I’ll be in prayer that we can fill it,’” Robert said.

“I’m worried about that now. I’m afraid it’s too ambitious. A few months ago I wouldn’t have said that.”

They returned to Reverend Bandy’s house then. An early meal had been placed upon the table by the only daughter of his host, but there seemed no happiness in the girl’s face. Before the meal was over he had learned that her mother had been dead less than a month.

Four hours later the two men returned home, crushed and despondent. The first six rows of pews had not been filled, much less the whole church and tent area. Robert tried to comfort his friend by relating his experiences of a similar nature. The other was inconsolable, however, and doubly sorry that Robert had been summoned such a long distance for nothing.

The next morning after breakfast Robert asked to be excused so that he. Might walk about the town and develop a feeling for the area and. its people. Brother Bandy acceded to his request, saying that it would be an opportune time for him to return to the church and attend to routine matters. Before riding into the town Robert walked into the hillside orchard of his host and knelt beneath the apple trees. He had not finished his prayer when apples began to fly fast and furious over his head. Looking up, he saw three boys, arms cocked again to hurl apples into the next tree. He couldn’t finish the prayer now but maybe it was useless anyway: he seriously doubted whether any people of the community would hear the soft voice of the Holy Spirit even if he prayed to that end the live long day.

“What are you doing, boys?” Robert called before they had seen him.

They looked up in surprise and started backing away. “We’re tryin’ to knock down that hornets’ nest,” a lad of sixteen or seventeen said, pointing upward, “but we ought to be goin’ on to town now – we’re running late a-getting’ there. . . .”

Close up, the town reeked with more debauchery than had been observable at a distance. People used obscene words openly, and there seemed as many taverns as stores. Intoxicated men could be seen planting kisses on painted women when a saloon door opened near the street.

Robert walked on until the area of commerce was bypassed. He stopped outside a house that echoed alternately with highpitched laughter and boisterous male voices. He listened by the open window near the sidewalk but could make no sense of the festivities. He stood there a moment until a man nearly black with grime and coal dust passed him by. Before he disappeared around a corner Robert called to him. “What business is conducted in this place?” he asked.

“Nothing you’d be interested in, old-timer. I ‘spect your beard might get in the way.”

Robert insisted on being told; and, most abruptly, he was. The very tone of voice with which the workingman called the word “whorehouse” caused Robert to jump and move away quickly. He rounded the same corner from which he had come and pondered this new information. He was bumped about by a lumbering- pedestrian or two, and he moved out of the walkway between two buildings. Three forms lurched there, encircled in pipe smoke, and the moment the air cleared he recognized the three boys he had seen in the orchard.

He didn’t chastise them for their experiments, asking them, rather, whether they would like to do something more useful for the wage of half a dollar.

“What do we, have to do?” all three asked at once.

“Do you think you could wear some gloves and put some cheesecloth over your heads and cut the hornet’s nest down for me? You will need a corncob, of course, to plug it with.”

All vowed that they had done it many times before, but to what use now?

Robert kindly declined to answer and jingled the money in his hand. As their bare heels disappeared he began to have second thoughts: somewhere he had heard that a bee died after using its stinger plagued him. Finally, as they reappeared, walking with great care, the situation had been reduced to the barest of fundamentals: Was the sacrifice of God’s creatures permissible for the eradication of an unendurable abomination? Viewed in that light, there never had been a genuine problem in the first place.

He paid for and with extreme care, took his buzzing package from the boys. Going between buildings this time until a back route was searched out, he arrived shortly under the open window of the house whose business transactions would soon suffer.

With all his might he threw his burden inside until, seeing the hornets’ nest burst, he reached for the window and pulled it down with such force that the glass rattled. He was rounding the corner before the first shrieks of agony reached his ears. He was still in listening range when a whole chorus of cries, both male and female, drifted outward into the street. That, night the revival gathering was little better attended than the previous one. For all their preaching and exhortations, they had received but two candidates for the kingdom of heaven.

“Brother Bob, they should be overflowing the aisles and bulging out the sides of the tent. They’ve got nothing on their minds but the pleasures of the flesh – they fear neither God nor the devil.”

For the second night the two of them returned home wearily. At dawn Robert crept from the house, leaving a note to the effect that he had borrowed the black greatcoat of his host as well as a tool from the barn. “I will see you at meeting time. Save no meals for me, I have taken some of your biscuits also.”