Rev. Francis McCormick, Jr.

HISTORY OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH In The United States Of America -- Volume III By Abel Stevens

He was born in Frederick city, Md., April 23, 1709, and joined the Methodists about his twentieth year. He met soon after Francis McCormick, another memorable name, as we shall hereafter see. "I did not hesitate," says Smith, "to tell him seriously my whole and sole object in joining the Church, as he called it. He professed to be a Universalist, and pleaded for the doctrine. I told him I had tried to believe it, but I found it would not do. I did not believe it was true. 'Well,' said he, 'how do you feel, anyhow?' I said, 'Bad enough,' and tried to tell him my state as well as I could. He took me by the hand, and said, 'Farewell, I expect I shall join too after a while,' and went back into the house. He felt and looked serious, which was noticed by a playful and mischievous fellow, who played a trick on him. This so enraged McCormick that he would have thrown the man headforemost into a large fire (for he was a powerful man) if he had not been prevented. Strange to tell, both these men got converted shortly after this. I think it was that day two weeks McCormick went to the meeting, was powerfully awakened, joined the society, and that night began to pray in his family. The other was converted at my father's. McCormick became a leader of a class, an exhorter, and finally a local preacher, and was a pioneer in the West. In the fall of 1779 I found him on the banks of the Little Miami, opening the way for the traveling preachers. He became my constant companion and true yoke-fellow while I remained at home." Smith had not yet attained peace of mind, though a Methodist; he was waiting, in much mental distress, for some of those demonstrative experiences which prevailed around him, but of which his calm temperament was not susceptible. "My dear father," he says, "took notice of my distress, and took an opportunity of saying to me, one day when we were alone, 'My son, what is the cause of your trouble of mind?' for he saw the change in my conduct, and had reason to believe that I had experienced a change of heart. I told him I wanted the Lord to convert my soul. He asked me if I knew what conversion was, and how it was obtained; and explained to me, that a sinner is justified 'by grace through faith, and through faith alone.' While he was preaching faith to me the glorious plan, of salvation was opened to my mind; a plan so well suited to my condition. I believed with the heart unto righteousness, and stepped into the liberty of the children of God. My distress gave way, and love and joy flowed into my soul. I believed God was reconciled to me in Christ Jesus our Lord." Following the custom of the Methodists of that day, he forthwith began to visit the families of his neighborhood, "mostly the poor." "After my day's labor," he writes, "was done, I mounted my horse, and rode three or four miles on such visits. Before my conversion I could not sing a single tune of any kind; but I had now learned by ear a few hymn tunes. Sometimes serious persons would be invited when they knew I was coming. One evening when I was on one of these visits, I found the house nearly full of people. I was much alarmed, and knew not what to do. However, as they all seemed serious, I talked to them, sung and prayed with them, and talked again, and wept over them; and we had a weeping time, and I believe serious impressions were made on the minds of the most of them. Thus, with almost no intention on my part, I was led to exhort, and some time after this a permit was given me to do so." An exhorter in those days soon became a preacher. Smith's friend, McCormick, had now become an ardent Methodist, and went forth with him to hold their first public meeting. It was at "Davenport's Meeting-house," in the wilderness of Western Maryland, and was a characteristic scene. "We found," writes Smith, "the lower part of the house full of people, and some in the gallery. There was no light but on the pulpit, and that was high; so we had to ascend the pulpit to see how to read a hymn. It was a trembling time with me, and no better with my companion. I opened the meeting. One poor sinner cried out for mercy under the prayer. I tried to exhort, but was, as I thought, amazingly embarrassed, and sat down in great confusion and distress of mind; for I felt as if I had done more harm than I should ever do good, and prayed to the Lord to forgive my presumption, and I never would do the like again. The poor woman was still crying for mercy. Brother McCormick gave a lively exhortation, and seemed to have great liberty, and concluded with singing and prayer. I was still so mortified that I wished to get out of the meeting-house and hide myself. But the people all seemed to be serious, and sat down, and some looked at the woman in distress. Presently Brother McCormick began to sing, 'Come on, my partners in distress,' in great spirit, for he was a fine singer, and the soul-melting power of the Lord came down upon us, and it was felt through all the house. My mind was relieved in a moment, and I soon found myself on a bench exhorting the people, and we had a most glorious time. This was a log meeting-house, and I had hauled the first log to it; and this was the first pulpit I ever opened my mouth in. In 1793 he was licensed to preach, and began his itinerant career on Berkeley circuit, Virginia In the next year he was received on trial in the conference, and sent beyond the Alleghenies; he thus took his place among the founders of Methodism in the valley of the Mississippi, where we shall hereafter meet him with his friend McCormick, both doing heroic service. The name of McKendree has already appeared in our narrative compromised with that O'Kelly, but speedily redeemed. William McKendree was destined to be the fourth bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, a chief founder of the denomination in the West, a preacher of transcendent power, an ecclesiastical administrator of scarcely rivaled ability, and a man of the saintliest character. He was born in King William county, Va., July, 1757, of upright parents, who trained him carefully in the faith of the English Church, then the established religion of the colony. The morals of his youth were nearly perfect; he could remember to have sworn but one profane oath in his life, though the vice was fashionable all around him; but he later discovered, he says, by reading the Holy Scriptures, that his "heart was deceitful and desperately wicked." He was a youth of great sensibility, vivacity, and energy; vigorous in mind and body. He took up arms for the Revolution, served in the army several years, attained the rank of adjutant, and was present at the surrender of Cornwallis. The year 1757 was signalized, as we have seen, by extraordinary religious interest in Virginia, especially on the noted Brunswick circuit; McKendree, then thirty years of age, lived on that circuit. Under the ministry of John Easter, famous for his eloquence and usefulness, his conscience was effectually awakened. "My convictions," he says, "were renewed. They were deep and pungent. The great deep of the heart was broken up. Its deceit and desperately wicked nature was disclosed; and the awful, the eternally ruinous consequences, clearly appeared. My repentance was sincere. I became willing, and was desirous to be saved on any terms. After a sore and sorrowful travail of three days, which were employed in hearing Mr. Easter, and in fasting and prayer, while the man of God was showing a large congregation the way of salvation by faith, with a clearness which at once astonished and encouraged me, I ventured my all upon Christ. In a moment my soul was relieved of a burden too heavy to be borne, and joy instantly succeeded sorrow. For a short space of time I was fixed in silent adoration, giving glory to God for his unspeakable goodness to such an unworthy creature."

HISTORY of the METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH in the United States of America

By Abel Stevens

While the range of Western Methodism was thus extending southward, it was also advancing in the opposite direction into the great Northwestern territory. We have traced its introduction and first movements there under the agency of McCormick. Repeatedly did this faithful local preacher go over to Kentucky to solicit itinerants from the Conference, but none could yet be spared from their urgent work. Meanwhile laymen, like himself, were planting the Church. He met in Kentucky Ezekiel Dimmitt, a young emigrant from Berkeley County, Va., where he had been received into the Church by Joshua Wells. McCormick urged him to move into the Northwestern Territory, and help to found Methodism and a new state there. Dimmitt, full of religious and patriotic ardor, went in 1797, and built his cabin on the east fork of the Little Miami, not far below the present town of Batavia. He was eight or ten miles from any neighbor, but attended McCormick's class, twelve miles distant on the little Miami, near the present Milford. He became a powerful coadjutor with McCormick. His home was long a lodging and preaching appointment of the itinerants, and he deservedly ranks among the founders of the denomination in Ohio. [16] He "possessed extraordinary physical strength, and his great muscular power seems to have been made an auxiliary to his usefulness. By it he was enabled to suppress disturbances that would sometimes occur at seasons of worship in the newly settled country. No man, knowing his tremendous force, was willing to come within reach of his iron grasp. Disorderly persons, who happened to be so unfortunate, were sure to be subdued, finding resistance entirely useless. Indeed, he seemed fully persuaded that it was better for such as were possessed of evil spirits to be delivered, even if they were torn a little, than to remain under the power of demons."

At last McCormick's appeal to the Conference was answered by the mission of Kobler, who, on the second of August, 1798, "preached the first sermon delivered in the territory by a regularly constituted Methodist missionary." "He administered the sacrament of the Lord's Supper at a regularly appointed quarterly meeting at McCormick's, held on the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth days of December, 1798. This was the first time the Methodists had partaken of the sacrament in the territory," etc. [17]

When he crossed the Ohio in 1798 "at a little village called Columbia," he fell upon his knees upon the shore, and prayed for the divine blessing upon his mission. "That evening," he writes, " I reached the house of Francis McCormick. He lived ten or fifteen miles from Columbia, on the bank of the Little Miami River. On Thursday, August 2, I preached at his house to a tolerable congregation on Acts xvi, 9: 'And a vision appeared to Paul in the night: there stood a man of Macedonia and prayed him, saying, Come over into Macedonia and help us.' It was a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, who gave testimony to the word of his grace. The little band was much rejoiced at my arrival among them, together with the prospect of having circuit preaching and all the privileges and ordinances of our Church." After spending five days in and near Milford, Kobler and McCormick started out on the first missionary circuit ever traced in the Miami country, if not the entire Northwest Territory. They traveled up to the head-waters of the Miamis and Mad Rivers, to the outskirts of the white population, and returned southward down the Great Miami to its mouth, and thence eastwardly to Milford, the place of beginning. This circuit embraced about one half the territory now included in the Cincinnati Conference.

After seeing Methodism well established on the north bank of the Little Miami, McCormick once more changed his location, and settled in Hamilton County, about ten miles east of Cincinnati. "Here again his ardent soul went out in prayer and ministerial effort for the conversion of his neighbors, and again God set his seal of approbation to the labors of his devoted servant. A class was soon formed, and the neighborhood supplied with regular circuit preaching, McCormick pushing out in all directions to open the way for the itinerants. This class was the beginning of what has been long and widely known as the 'Salem Society,' and in early times became identified with the old White Oak Circuit, from the bounds of which nearly fifty preachers have been raised up for the regular work of the Methodist ministry. Among this number were Winans, Light, Simmons, McClain, Eddy, Raper, Christie, Baughman, Foster, holding in reserve a long list, having as honest, though perhaps not so wide a fame. This class, the germ of the Salem society, was formed McCormick's new double log-cabin. It cannot now be asserted who had the honor to pronounce the dedicatory address in this primitive 'Church in the wilderness;' but we know that its pulpit, a space behind the chair upon the white ash floor, was afterward occupied by such men as Bishops Whatcoat, Asbury, McKendree, George, and Roberts, as well as by the chief lights of our early Western ministry. This cabin was one of the principal land harbors into which those men put for shelter, provision, said repair. Here was held many a bishop's council, for our local preacher was one of those wise said judicious men whom a bishop might safely consult." [19]

His tombstone at Salem Methodist Church outside Cincinnati: Consecrated to the memory of the Rev'd Francis McCormick, Who was born in Frederick County Va. 1764, Served part of two campaigns in the American Revolution, and was at the tak ing of Cornwallis at Yorktown in 1790. Attached himself to the Methodist E. Church in -92, was licensed to preach in 95, removed to KY. in 97, to the then northwester Territory now State of Ohio near Milford in Cleremont County where he formed the first Class in 1805 removed to this place in -14, was elected a member of the Legislature and filled other offices by appointment & Election. He died in -36, being 72 years old. His mansuetude and suavity of manner endeared him alike to all, His time talents house & money were all spent in the estab- lishmen & promotion of the M.E.C. He treasured not up of this world's goods but garnered to himself riches as enduring as time and lasting as Eternity. His ...

CYCLOPEDIA OF METHODISM -- LETTER-O (2058--2109) "About the year 1798," says Rev. Francis McCormick, "the Rev. Wm. McKendree came to preside over us at a quarterly meeting held by him at brother Philip Gatch's. There were felt and seen the displays of mercy and grace; while our reverend brother was holding forth the word of life, sinners were cut to the heart in a wonderful manner; one young woman in particular shrieked aloud, as though a sword had been run through her. Her brother, in a rage, ran to her relief, and took her out of the crowd, but the Lord arrested him, and he began to cry for mercy."

Francis McCormick Jr -- whom we know as Francis Vet McCormack, was converted to Methodism at Stone's Chapel, Clarke Co, Virginia built c1785.

HISTORY

of the

METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH

in the United States of America

By Abel Stevens

extracted from http://wesley.nnu.edu/wesleyctr/books/0201-0300/stevens/0226-3509.htm

The name of Francis McCormick was destined to become dear in the hearts, and great in the history, of his people as the founder of Methodism in the most important section of the North American continent the Northwestern Territory. A Methodist bishop, meditating at the grave of the pioneer, has recorded some of the most important facts of his life. [29] He was born in Frederick County, Va., June 3, 1764. His parents were good Presbyterians, but his father became a distiller, ceased to pray in his family, and not only fell away from but opposed religion. His son grew up "a wild and wicked" youth. He heard William Jessop preach, a man of powerful eloquence. [30] As he saw the people weeping and praying under the discourse, "his heart was filled with madness," and he turned away with the determination to witness such scenes no more. He forbade his young wife to attend them, yet she could not but perceive that, in spite of his resolution, his conscience was thoroughly awakened. We have already seen how the conversion of his young friend Smith, about this time, affected him. He returned with his wife to the Methodist meetings; and after a sermon he remained to witness a love-feast, of which he later wrote: "The simplicity, love, and union that prevailed I was quite charmed with. Surely, thought I, these are the people of God. Yet for all this, when the invitation was given for people to join society, my wife being one of the first to join, I was so angry that I went off home and left her. I was so filled with the wicked one that I scarcely knew what to think of myself; for I then as much believed she was doing right as I should now if any other person was becoming a member." He could not, however, silence his awakened conscience. He became the more interested in the Methodists when he learned that they "prohibited drunkenness and tippling," for his life in the house of his father had convinced him of their ruinous consequences. He describes himself as "miserable beyond expression," when he went to hear Lewis Chasteen, another itinerant of eminent usefulness. "The preacher," he writes, "was at prayer when we arrived. When he took his text, 'And now also the ax is laid unto the root of the tree; therefore every tree,' etc., it appeared to me that all the wickedness that I had ever committed stared me in my face. A trembling seized me as though all my flesh would drop from my bones. He preached like a son of thunder, as he truly was. After public service he gave an invitation to such as desired to become members to join. There were none but members present, except myself and a young man by the name of Murphy, who had for some time been under awakenings; but he declined, like Felix, for a more convenient season. Living in the midst of about a hundred relatives, all enemies to the Methodists, how is it possible that I can stand to be opposed by such a multitude! It staggered me in a wonderful manner; but it appeared as though I heard a voice from heaven, 'My Spirit shall not always strive with man.' This had such a powerful effect on my mind that I was resolved to make the trial, let the consequences be what they might. Christmas that year (1790) came on Sunday, and I joined on the Tuesday preceding. The Saturday following, my father, who lived with one of my brothers, sent for me to come and see him. There were a number collected of brothers, and their relatives by marriage, to keep Christmas in their and my old way, and I have always thought that their aim was to get me intoxicated. Be that as it may, they missed it. They were very kind indeed, more so than common, and said nothing to me about religion till I refused to drink with them; then my father said, 'How came you to join the Methodists without my leave?' I told him that I did not know it was my duty to obtain his consent; and added, in the language of Scripture, 'Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.' He replied, 'What have you done that you need repentance? Have you killed anybody? You must leave the Methodists, and I will give you the farm to live on, and treat you as a son.' I replied that I thanked him for all the pains and trouble he had been at in bringing me up, but to leave the Methodists was out of the question, for I would not leave them for all the land in the world. He then flew into a great rage, and told me to begone, or he would burn the house over my head. A number of those present laughed and made sport of me, and my poor wicked heart resented it for a moment, till I thought, 'just such a one was I a few days ago.' But upon the whole I thought I could have passed through the fire rather than draw back to perdition, and I can truly say that none of these things moved me. The next day, Sunday, I went to meeting. Chasteen preached again from 'There was a little city, and few men within it,' etc. In the discussion of the subject I saw the dreadful situation our world is in through sin, and the wisdom of the poor wise man in seeking redemption from death and destruction. It was then that my load of guilty woe was removed; and how did I feel? All peace and joy. But I had not the witness of the Spirit for some days. Finally, I began to reflect on the trouble I had just been in to mourn because I could not grieve for my sins. At last I discovered by faith that they were all forgiven. Then the Spirit bore witness with my spirit that I was a child of God; the peace and joy that followed no language could express. I wondered at my own stupidity, and that of all the rest of Adam's race, that they could have anything against religion; and I could truly say with David, 'I was glad when they said, Come let us go up to the house of the Lord.' I have thought a thousand times of the lengths of sin I ran into before I was twenty-six years of age, such as drinking, Sabbath-breaking, etc., and no one admonished me; but so soon as I began to go to meeting, losing time, as they called it, the cry was, 'You will be ruined!' 'Take care that you are not deceived!' 'The Methodists will all come to nothing!' and what is still more astonishing, it is the cry of some people down to the present day." 

His fidelity had its reward. His fallen father sent for him to pray by his death-bed, and the faithful son "had access to the mercy-seat," and ever after consoled himself with the hope that his parent was at last reclaimed and saved. Valentine Cook crossed his path, and appointed him class-leader. He began to exhort, and at last to preach. Being married, he could not hope to enter the itinerancy; but he now devoted himself to evangelical labors, manual work being but the means of his support, while the promotion of religion was the task of his life. Like the martyr Tucker, and other local preachers of that day, he emigrated, in 1795 to Kentucky, more to preach the gospel than to get gain. He settled in Bourbon County, but was soon dissatisfied with position. Though of little cultivation, he was a man of the clearest common sense, and, above all, of that practical moral sense which, for the affairs of this world, as well as of the next, is the highest prudence, the best philosophy of life. Being a native of a slave-holding state, he had seen, with most of the Methodists of his day, that slavery was not only a profound moral wrong, but an incubus [Oxford Dict. incubus = oppressive nightmare — DVM] on domestic and industrial life. It was extending around him in Kentucky, and he resolved to escape from it, with his young family, into the Northwestern Territory. He crossed the Ohio, and built his log-cabin at Milford, in Clermont County. Seven years afterward he removed to what is now known as Salem, but for many years was called "McCormick's Settlement," about ten miles from the site of Cincinnati. "It was then little better than a wilderness; now it is one of those rural spots where the eye is feasted with beauty, and the ear with melody, making one dream of Arcadian loveliness. In its quiet graveyard his ashes now slumber."

At Milford he found the settlers thoroughly demoralized, for lack of the means of religion, and forthwith began his good work inviting them to assemble to hear the word, which he proclaimed to them "as the voice of one crying in the wilderness." He formed a class there, the first Methodist society organized in the Northwestern Territory. He went out preaching along the settlements, and soon established two other classes, one near the present town of Lockland, the other near Columbia. He made urgent appeals to the Kentucky itinerants, informing them of the new and open door of the great Northwest, and calling for immediate help. John Kobler, as we shall hereafter see, soon responded, and became the first regular Methodist preacher north and west of the Ohio River. We shall have occasion, before long, to follow him, and, thenceforward, will rise before us the gigantic Methodism of the great northern states of the Mississippi Valley.

McCormick was a man worthy of his peculiar distinction as the Methodistic founder of Ohio. Born and trained in the wilds of the Virginia mountains, he could "endure hardness as a good soldier of the Lord Jesus," amid the privations of the West. He had a remarkably sound judgment, a quick but steady view of what was befitting or expedient; was a "wise and judicious man," and exceedingly candid, accessible and conciliatory in his manners. He was calmly but invincibly courageous; and in his youth served two campaigns in the war of the Revolution, assisting in the siege of Yorktown, and witnessing the surrender of Cornwallis. Without remarkable talents as a preacher, his good sense, his earnestness, unction, and self-denying devotion, made him powerful. Withal, he had an imposing presence. He was robust and tall, fully six feet in height, and weighed two hundred and forty pounds. "His gigantic body was surmounted by a well-developed head and a florid face, expressive of good temper, intelligence, and benevolence. He was the center and charm of the social company which his position and character drew around him. He possessed the largest liberality: house, table, money, time, and influence were freely devoted to God and his Church. His home was for many years a preaching-place, and not infrequently the people would come forty miles or more to hear the word of life. All such found cordial welcome, not only to a free gospel, but to a free entertainment. He lived not for himself; but for the Church and the cause of God." A giant, a pioneer, a soldier, a Methodist preacher, he was the fitting man for his great historic mission.

Confederate prisoner of war during Civil War -- 1864

7th Texas Infantry, Co C

Carriger, Ido -- enl 1 Jan 63 Canton, captured at Raymond, parolled Camp Lee (n.d.)