Sabbath 28 [February, 1773], In the morning, parted with my pilate
[sic] in great love and friendship,
having travelled at least seventy-five miles together in the solitary
wilderness; and though he always behaved well, can't say that I was without
some fear at times, lest he should do me an injury. Went four or five miles down Ohio, and came
opposite to Mr. William Mc Mechens, from whence I took water for the
Shawannees. Much ice was driving down
the stream, yet when I called, Mr. Mc Mechen ventured over in a little canoe,
that threatened danger, leaving at that time my horse behind, we came safely
over. When we arrived to this shore, my
sensation was truly pleasing, hope raised high expectations of seeing
New-Jersey once more. Here remained for
some weeks, waiting for the arrival of my brother and Mr. Clark, who were gone
for corn to Monongehela. And as I am now
about leaving this famous country, think proper to speak a little on a subject
chiefly omitted.
This William
McMechen is almost certainly the brother of Dr. James McMechen who had provided
shelter for Jones earlier and was present at the passing of his friend, the
Rev. John Davis (see my previous post, "An Untimely Passing"). I suppose it stands to
reason, since there were so few whites established along the frontier settlements,
but it still amazes me at the interconnectedness of these stories. It seems as though Jones always runs into the
most interesting characters!
The land, according to my judgment, has been
justly described; but this is not all the excellency of this new world, for its
waters abound with the greatest abundance of fine fishes. There is a kind of fish here called white
perch, some of which are larger than a shad, and very agreeable food. Sun-fish, or what is called yellow-perch, are
here as large as a shad. There is
another kind of fish called buffaloe fish, many of which are larger than our
sheepshead—Catfish of an extraordinary sort are taken here, some of which are said
to weigh an hundred pounds. We took one,
that after seven of us had eaten twice of it, part was given to the Indians. Large salmon are to be met with here also—some
sturgeon, prodigious large pike, chubs, mullets, and various kinds of small fishes. I have been informed that shad have been
taken, and some herrings; but the riches of the waters are not fully known, the
people not having seines made as yet. The wild beasts met with here, are bears,
wolves, panthers, wildcats, foxes, raccoons, beavers, otters, and some few squirrils
[sic] and rabbits; buffaloes, deer and elks,
called by the Delawares moos. The fowls to be seen are wildgeese[sic] , ducks
of various kinds, some swans, abundance of turkies [sic], some
of which are very large; pheasants, pigeons, and some few quails, by some
called partridges. This country promises
the inhabitants a plentitude of the necessaries of life; and having described
it according to my knowledge, and best information, would have here left the
reader: but as God was pleased to bring me through some very trying scenes, thought
proper to communicate the same, hoping it may be of some benefit to such as
meet with tribulations, in this world of sorrow.
Friday,
March 19, left Ohio alone, and encamped on the creek called Weeling [sic]. This was the only night that I slept alone
in the wilderness: the solitary repose can scarcely be described, many thoughts
arose, none otherwise to be removed, only by the proper exercise of faith on
him, who has promised never to leave nor forsake his children. It was so ordered that not even a wolf howled
to disturb me.
Just stop and
imagine that for a moment. To be
travelling alone in the Ohio River valley in the early 1770’s, surrounded not only
by wild animals but also by potentially hostile Indian tribes. I think it says a lot about Jones’ courage
and yet he gives all the glory to God who providentially prevented even the
wolves from disturbing his slumber. Such
is the sweet rest that only those who are kept in the mutual hands of the
Father and the Son can know (John 10:27-30).
March
25, was crossing the Alegini [sic] mountain—
the snow was nine inches deep, and suffered not a little by the severe cold.
Sabbath 28, came to Old Town, and preached
in the evening at Col. Crassop's [Michael Cresap]. On the week following, was
taken with the pleurisy, and lay at David Bowen's, at Conegocheage
[Conococheague].
Saturday, April 3, drew off about fourteen ounces
of blood, which relieved so much, that in the afternoon, fell into a pleasant
sleep, and had such a representation of my family at home, that after awaking,
told some of the people, that it was my belief that my son was dead, and found
when I came home, he had departed about that hour. From that time my spirit sunk in me, with an
unaccountable sadness. From this infer,
that God doth sometimes give intimations of future events in sleep (Job
23:15). But in common, no notice should
be taken of slumbering imaginations. After recruiting my strength a little, went
through New-Castle county, having some business to transact there.
Thursday, April 22, set out in hopes of seeing
my family once more in the land of the living, but about sixteen miles from
Philadelphia, at a small town called Chester, met an acquaintance, who gave me
the sorrowful news that my favourite son was dead. Though this news was expected, yet when it
verbally reached my ears, it struck me through the very heart, with such
extacies [sic] of sorrow, that my
soul seemed as if it would expire. Sorrowfully I rode to Philadelphia, and was
prevailed on to remain there over the Sabbath. Had buried two children before, but as Jacob's
heart and life was bound up in Benjamin, so was mine in this son. At this time, life seemed a burden, and all the
world a mere empty nothing. Sleep was
only obtained when exhausted with weeping.
Saturday 24, in the morning when I awoke,
the wounds began to bleed afresh: but, unexpectedly, these words came with such
power, that relief was soon obtained, viz. "My son despise not the chastening
of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him: for whom the Lord loveth,
he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." That part of the verse in particular, which says,
"whom the Lord loveth, he scourgeth," was of singular support in my present distress;
impressing on my heart such a sense of God's love to me, that such was
the relief, that the next day, was enabled to preach. The words are in Heb. xii. 5,6. what a precious
saying is that! which so comfortably affirms, "that whatsoever things were
written aforetime, were written for our learning; that we through patience
and comfort of the scriptures might have hope." There is no condition, in which any of God's
children can be, but he hath left a word suited exactly to their case. And indeed it must be so, seeing that his
promise is "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
Monday 26, set out, and at night lodged
at a friend's house. When retired to my
bed-chamber, thoughts crowded into my soul—The sorrowful scene began to open to
view, anticipating my arrival to meet my beloved wife, in my absence, bereaved
of a dear son. Ideas of my darling came
fresh into my soul—I knew not how to go home and miss him. Circumstances of his death came into mind, how
hard it was to leave him alive, and find him dead! what is common to human
nature in distress, fruitless wishes were not a few: such as, oh! that I had
been with him, or even had been permitted to attend his dear remains to the solitary grave! but now,
alas! alas! I shall never more see him on earth!—These thoughts with many of
the same nature, were productive of floods of tears 'till sleep gave respite.
What can one
say? To see three of your own children
laid in the grave, I can only imagine the anguish Jones must have felt even as
he conveys his feelings through his journal to us so many years later. Yet Jones’ anchor had been firmly cast into
the rock that is Jesus Christ, and from the Word of God he obtained
relief. May it be so for us that, in
times of joy or sorrow, we find our sufficiency in the Son of God, Jesus Christ.
Christ, not man, is King!
Dale
2) Ibid., p. 75-7.
3) Ibid., p. 77-8.
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