Great Hill UMC

A Collection in Progress, from various sources.

Beginnings of Methodism

The history of Great Hill actually begins, not with the first preaching by the Rev. Jesse Lee here in 1791, but with earlier persons. The church is, after all, a group of people. The history of a religious group is really an account of people’s lives as they meet God in fellowship with one another.

Methodism started at Oxford University in England. Sparked by the zeal and leadership of John and Charles Wesley, it became a vital, growing community of the faithful. Their convictions were the basis of both personal spiritual life and social change. This was a movement within the established Church of England - Wesley always remained an ordained clergyman of that denomination.

As a preacher, Wesley had both a great love for and frustration with the established church. He called it "a mere political institution." He regarded it as sluggish, apostate and unregenerate, and he often said so in plain terms. Nevertheless, he loved the church, clung to it, prayed for it, and worked for its renewal. He enjoined all the preachers within his movement to a like fidelity.

Although Methodism had its early roots among university students and faculty, the movement "took fire," when Wesley preached to the working classes. In 1739, Wesley’s friend, George Whitfield, asked him to come to help preach to the miners of Bristol. Just a few months before this request, there had been a bloody uprising in that region. It had been suppressed by soldiers and the jailing of the leadership. John Wesley was afraid to go. His brother, Charles, and many of their London society tried to dissuade him. Together they exercised bibiolomancy - a random consultation of Scripture for advice and discernment. They turned up ominous verses warning vaguely of martyrdom; they cast lots and prayed.

Then John Wesley packed his saddlebags and set out "to stir up God’s good trouble." Wesley preached his first sermon of the Methodist revival prepared to die. This courage - or grace - was the very seed of the movement

Wesley was, at heart, a very orderly person. He was somewhat apprehensive about this open-field preaching business. However, he took counsel in the Sermon on the Mount. He called it "one pretty remarkable precedent of field-preaching. "

Thus he began his work at Bristol among the miners. Here poverty and deprivation were common and often resulted in moral disintegration as well. These working people were joyously touched by the Spirit of God through Methodist Love Feasts, Class Meetings, and the Wesleyan preaching. He proclaimed a doctrine of social justice, self-denial, and salvation.

Wesley was an expert at organization. He exercised what some considered a "near-despotic authority" to hold together the movement. He urged the preachers to be faithful to the established church.

In addition, he instructed the people to attend church faithfully - both the services of the established church and the revival movement. He wrote in his journal in 1766 the following comment: "I go to church whether the minister is good or bad, and advise others so to do. Unstable Methodists will always be subject to the temptation of ‘sermon-hunting’."

The Methodist Class System

A distinctive practice of the early Methodists was their class system. It kept the membership in close fellowship with each other and their Savior. This group usually consisted of about a dozen persons who lived near to each other. They met regularly under the direction of a Class Leader. At these meetings, the members discussed their personal spiritual lives. This early version of "group therapy" offered encouragement for the "backsliders" of the community and encouraged all members to support one another.

First Class Leader at Great Hill

A book published in 1813, Portraiture of Methodism, lists the duties of the Class Leader. When Jesse Lee began Methodist preaching at Great Hill in 1791, these were the responsibilities of our own Anson Gillette. The Class Leader met with all members of his class at least once a week. He asked how their souls prospered. He advised, reproved, comforted or exhorted as occasion required. He received what they were willing to give towards the support of the Gospel.

The Class Leader also met regularly with the stewards of the church and the preacher to: "inform the minister of any that are sick, or of any that walk disorderly and will not be reproved," to pay to the stewards what they have received of their several classes in the week preceding, and "to show their account of what each person has contributed."

Early Membership Requirements

What did this early church require of its members? This book tells us: "There is only one condition previously required of those who desire admission to these societies - ‘a desire to flee the wrath to come, and be saved from their sins’; but wherever this is really fixed in the soul, it will be shown by its fruits. It is expected of all who continue therein, that they should continue to evidence their desire of salvation."

These Methodists had a definite set of rules about behavior. Some are still held by our denomination; others are now abandoned. An early Methodist might not recognize us as his spiritual descendants. Listen to what was required of a Methodist in 1791: "First, by doing no harm, by avoiding evil of every kind; especially that which is most generally practiced, such as:

• The taking of the name of God in vain;
• the profaning of the day of the Lord, either by doing ordinary work thereon, or by buying or selling;
• Drunkenness;
• Buying or selling spirituous liquors; or drinking them, unless in cases of extreme necessity;
• Fighting, quarrelling, brawling;
• The using of many words in buying or selling;
• The buying or selling of uncustomed goods;
• The giving or taking of things on usury, i.e., unlawful interest;
• Doing to others as we would not they should do unto us;
• Doing what we know is not for the glory of the God, as the putting on of gold or costly apparel;
• The taking such diversions as cannot be used in the name of the Lord Jesus;
• The singing of those songs, or the reading of those books, that do not tend to the knowledge or love of God;
• Softness, and needless self-indulgence;
• Laying up of treasure upon earth;
• Borrowing without a probability of paying; Or taking up goods without a probability of paying for them."
• Such activities as the playing of cards, music lessons, or dancing were forbidden.

Besides following these prohibitions, early Methodists were supposed to be "doing good, by being in every kind merciful after their power, as they have opportunity; doing good of every possible sort, and as far as possible to all men.".

How should a Methodist treat his fellow-men? The early Discipline said we must minister to others - "To their hungry bodies, of the ability that God giveth, by giving food to the hungry, by clothing the naked, by visiting or helping them that are sick or in prison."

• A Methodist should do good, "especially to them that are of the household of faith, or groaning so to be;
• Employing them preferably to others;
• buying one of another;
• helping each other in business, and so much the more, because the world will love its own and them ONLY."

Discipline for Failure to Meet Standards

What happened when a member could not, or would not, live up to these high standards of conduct? The Methodist Rule Book said, "If there be any among us, who observe them not, who habitually break any of them, — we will admonish him of the error of his ways; we will bear with him for a season; but then, if he repent not, he hath no more place among us."

For those who did find a place among the Methodists, the church became very important. It was not an obligation to take lightly. They were dedicated; they came from diverse backgrounds. These early Methodists remain interesting to us — their 20th century descendants.

The Rev. Jesse Lee, our first preacher

The Rev. Jesse Lee, our first preacher, had been a circuit rider in the 1770’s. When drafted at the time of the American Revolution, he refused to bear arms. However, he did support the patriot cause by carrying arms for the American troops. When the war was over, the founding Christmas Conference was held in 1784. Jesse Lee was one of the 60 preachers in attendance.

Thus, there is a direct personal link between the founding of our American denomination and the founding of Methodist churches in Connecticut. We are all inheritors and participants in this history.

Jesse Lee kept a journal. He filled many volumes with daily entries about his personal activities, his spiritual life, and the daily happenings in his ministry. A few years after serving Great Hill, he attended the General Conference of 1799. He wrote in his journal, after the conference: "I and three other Methodist ministers went to a nearby grocery to weigh — I weighed 259 pounds. With the three others, we totaled 976 pounds, a wonderful weight for Methodist preachers - and all of us travel on horseback."

Obviously, the woman of their circuits fed these clergy well as the preachers made their rounds. It appears times were hard on horses, also.

Lee's History Book

At the General Conference of 1818, Lee requested the denomination publish his book, A Short History of the Methodists in the United States. The conference refused to do this, saying the book was "crude and simple." Undaunted, Lee found a private publisher, and the book became the first history of American Methodism. Today the volume is a standard reference - recommended in bibliographies of church history and endorsed by church and secular historians. It was reprinted in paperback in 1974 and is once again available to the public.

The Rev. Aaron Hunt, sought religious equality in Connecticut

The year after Jesse Lee preached at Great Hill, we had another interesting preacher — the Rev. Aaron Hunt. He served in 1792 and again in 1812. He petitioned the Connecticut General Assembly to secure equal treatment for the "dissenting" churches. In those days, the Connecticut Constitution and government favored the Congregational Churches. Nevertheless, Aaron Hunt spoke out - he asked the state government to declare his property in Redding tax-exempt.

He reasoned he should receive this because Congregational clergy received the privilege. He was eventually successful in getting his taxes deducted, after telling the legislature his income as a minister was "far from lucrative." Actually, the only reason he owned the farm was because he had inherited it. He never earned enough as an itinerant preacher to have any capital available.

For the 27 years he served on the circuits, his total earnings often did not exceed $25 per year. His petition was one of the early steps towards complete religious freedom in Connecticut.

Aaron Hunt also challenged the state laws which refused to recognize a marriage ceremony performed by a Methodist clergyman. One Methodist clergy, Presiding Elder George Roberts was fined $100 by a court in Middletown for conducting a marriage ceremony. Remember, the Methodist clergy of that day earned only about a quarter of that sum annually.

The precedent did not deter Hunt from employing the parish minister at his own wedding. Hunt invited his Presiding Elder to officiate. When he hesitated, on because of the law, Hunt said he would pay all fines and costs if the matter went to court.

Shortly, thereafter, legal proceedings were started against another Methodist preacher. Hunt appeared at the trial, giving a powerful presentation which made the law appear so odious the suit was withdrawn.

Aaron Hunt was an intimate friend of Bishop Asbury. It was at Hunt’s suggestion the church changed the term of the circuit rider from one year to two years on each circuit.

Hunt became a Presiding Elder in New York in 1800, by the appointment of Bishop Asbury. Our local preacher had objected to the office of Presiding Elder when the position was established and did not want to serve in the office.

At the 1800 Conference, Bishop Asbury read the list of appointments, ending with the reading of Hunt’s assignment. Hunt rose to protest, but Asbury silenced him by replying, "No time to be heard now - let us pray." Then Asbury prayed such a prayer such as only he could deliver, and Hunt agreed to serve. Asbury personally accompanied him home from the Conference on horseback.

Rev. Daniel Ostrander

The Rev. Daniel Ostrander was our preacher in 1794. He entered the ministry the year before coming to Great Hill. From l793 to l843, a full half century, he missed his appointed Sunday preaching on only three occasions, when he was disabled by illness.

He served for 14 years as a circuit rider, 8 years as a settled clergy, and 28 years as Presiding Elder. He was a Methodist of the old school. One of the preachers in his district called him "the Cromwell of the New York Conference."

He was said to be "uncompromising in his antagonism to every form of wrong-doing...He is a Methodist from conviction and choice, and next to the Gospel, he has faith in the ultimate ubiquity of the discipline, doctrines and usages of the Methodist Episcopal Church."

Ostrander, although sometimes stern, was kind and well-loved by his parishioners. He was a member of the General Conference for ten successive terms from 1804 to 1840.

For many years the Rev. Ostrander refused to sit for a portrait. At the age of 67, he agreed to sit for an artist. The engraving which you see was made from that engraving. In the 1800’s

Rev. William Thacher

Great Hill Church had some interesting clergymen. One of them, the Rev. William Thacher, illustrates the difficult lives people of that age experienced. He was born in Norwalk, Connecticut on April 3, l769. His parents were both Congregationalists. When he was six years old, he decided he wanted to become a preacher. Two years later, when he was only 8, both his parents died.

The father’s dying request to his brother was to adopt William as a son and send him to Yale College to become a minister. His uncle also died before he was old enough to pursue this education. He never went to college. Nevertheless, he did acquire an excellent education by diligent independent study, while also learning the tailor’s trade in New Haven.

At age 21, after living in Baltimore with a Methodist class leader and exhorter, he joined our denomination. He decided to come back to Connecticut. He went to the parish of Ripton, in Fairfield County, now part of Shelton.

When he got there the town officials were petitioned to warn him to leave the town because he was a Methodist. However, during the short time he was there, he did join with a small group of Methodists seven miles from his home. They met in a private home despite the objections of the civil authorities.

He soon left for New York. He took with him a personal note from the first preacher at Great Hill - the Rev. Jesse Lee. Lee wrote: "The bearer, William Thacher, calls himself a Methodist, and I hope he is a steady, well-meaning person."

Jesse Lee’s wish came true in the subsequent life of William Thacher. When Thacher got to New York, he joined a class in the John Street Church which met at the church on Sunday mornings at sunrise. He married a woman from New Haven and moved there. Thacher wrote in his memoirs that he heard the first Methodist sermon in New Haven, given by our old friend, Jesse Lee.

He was appointed class leader of the first permanent Methodist Class in that community in 1795. The circuit riders serving the community encouraged him to speak out in the services. Although he at first had great difficulty in addressing the gatherings, he practiced exhorting and preaching until he became an effective speaker.

He decided to become a Methodist minister and join the conference. His wife was at first opposed to this plan but eventually consented. When he started out to preach, he paid $30 for a horse and bought a second-hand saddle, bridle and saddlebags. He left home with less than a dollar in his pocket, leaving his wife nearly destitute. She and their child boarded at her father’s home for one dollar a week for both.

Eligible for a maximum annual salary of $128, he about half of that sum. Actually, all that he received were cash contributions from people on his circuit. Thacher wrote of the financial strains his calling created. "God had called me, and I must obey, nor did I stagger myself through unbelief."

He described himself as he set out, saying, "On a little gray mare, whose bones were prominent, sits a small man, pale and thin, dressed in a second-hand gray coat and light-colored overcoat. The people say, ‘Brother Thacher, neither you nor your horse will stand this circuit. The rides are long, roads rough and mountainous - you must both fail.’

In a few months they say ‘You have grown as fat as a farmer, and you’ve got a new horse, ha?’ The itinerant answers, "No, the same horse and the same rider’."

Thacher experienced much controversy during his ministry. Ten years after he left Great Hill, he applied for a supernumerary appointment. He said his health was poor; he was unable to attend the conference meeting which was to consider the request. The conference, in his absence, refused to grant it.

There are old documents which indicate he was resented by some of his ministerial colleagues, who felt he was a "bishop’s favorite." When the conference refused to give him the supernumerary position, Thacher was unable - due to health reasons - to fill the full-time traveling post assigned to him by that conference.

When the conference met again the next year, charges were brought up against him for deserting his post. However the charges were not sustained, and the conference took no action.

One of the interesting aspects of Thacher’s ministry was his stand on abolition preaching. By the late 1830’s many preachers used the pulpit to call for an end to slavery. Thacher, and most members of the conference, considered themselves antislavery men. However, Thacher was opposed to abolition preaching and sided with the conservatives.

He wrote in his journal concerning the suspension of three of the twenty preachers charged with being " abolition preachers" in 1838: "The screws of government were judiciously applied to some of our good brethren, which proved salutary to them and poor Zion’s Watchman's editor, and all were subjected by able hands to a most severe and just castigation.....as the partridge sitteth on eggs and hatcheth them not,’ so these zealous men have had a long incubation: there has been warmth enough, and feathers in abundance, yet where are the freed men? What chickens have they hatched?"

Thacher's writings of this period reveal the real reason for the opposition to the anti-slavery agitation of those days. The conservatives did not believe the calls to reform would be effective and feared they might be detrimental to the growth of the church.

Thacher was not, however, hesitant to participate in all reform movements. He was an early leader in the temperance movement, giving lectures on the subject throughout the countryside as early as 1835. Although, at that time, the temperance pledge was against "ardent" spirits only, Thacher was among the first to advocate the "teetotal principle."

Although his views were at first considered extreme, they were eventually incorporated as the backbone of the temperance movement. Years later, Thacher wrote of his advocacy of the idea, "The Holy Spirit set me right on the principles of temperance ."

Thacher published several works, including an autobiographical sketch and a sermon on secret prayer.

 

 

Rev. Oliver Sykes

 

The Rev. Oliver Sykes was our pastor in 1807 and again in 1810. People thought him eccentric. Miss Mary Hull wrote an anecdote concerning this man in her personal recollections: "The Rev. Oliver Sykes electrified this people with his fiery sermons, but what a peculiar person he was! A bachelor, he feared the appraising glance of a woman.

My great-aunt told me how, once upon a time, she was attending meeting in Pleasant Vale, now Riverside. She sat in the gallery and became so absorbed in the eloquence of Brother Sykes that she forgot herself. Whereupon he stopped abruptly, looked sternly at her and thundered, ‘Young woman, a modest gaze is quite unlike an impudent stare.’

Young Betsy Russell, unaware of her offense, was greatly embarrassed. She told me this incident years later when she was in a wheel chair.", Miss Hull wrote.

Despite his peculiarities, Oliver Sykes was a very popular preacher. He started preaching in the Dutchess circuit in 1805. At the end of that year, Sykes was suggested for our circuit. The preacher in charge of the Dutchess Circuit wrote to Freeborn Garrettson, pleading as follows: "I am afraid the cause will suffer if Brother Sykes is taken from us. He is a gracious and gifted man and universally acceptable. To take him from us at this time is breaking my bones. It would rejoice me exceedingly if you and Brother Thacher could so arrange matters to leave him with us."

Nevertheless, Sykes came to our circuit. He continued an itinerancy plagued with physical infirmities resulting from the hardships of riding in all kinds of weather. The situation was very distressing to him: during most years of his service, the Annual Conference listed him as a "worn-out preacher." This was a category of clergy who had a greater health problem than that the supernumeraries, who were able do some part-time preaching.

Sykes had a long and difficult final illness, finally dying at the home of Mrs. Joseph Curtiss in Stratford. She preserved a manuscript of his autobiography.

His biographer writes of Sykes the following sketch: "It is doubtful if any portrait of Mr. Sykes was ever taken. He is remembered by the older preachers as a confirmed old bachelor, a tall man, a great pedestrian, almost invariably seen with an umbrella, rarely taking notice of children, opposed to instrumental music, remarkably gifted in prayer, fond of discoursing upon the resurrection, seldom looking his congregation in the face, and often stealing away after service without speaking to any one....It was no unusual thing for him to walk nine miles from his lodging-place through the woods before breakfast, apparently with the sole motive of eating in a different place from where he slept.

Sykes had often experienced what he called "the loss of physical strength while engaged in secret or family prayer, but sometimes in the class or prayer meetings, and even in the public congregation occasionally." Sykes wrote of the phenomenon, "The effect, in a religious point of view, is salutary. It brightens my enjoyment, and nerves my mind to pursue my religious course. Others may endeavor to account for these things by saying that the mind becomes greatly excited, and overpowers the body. But as to myself, I write from experience and what I know. The influence begins, progresses, till suddenly, as if it were by a stroke of lightning, my strength is gone and I fall to the floor. It may be a peculiarity with me, but I do not recollect any instance in which I could not soon rise up again. It seems to me, judging from its results, to be a baptism of the Holy Spirit.

 

Rev. Elijah Woolsey

Another interesting 19th century preacher at Great Hill was the Rev. Elijah Woolsey. He served this church during 1814 and 1815. After he retired, in 1845, the recollections of his ministry were published. The book, entitled The Supernumerary, or the Lights and Shadows of the Itinerancy , depicts the life of the itinerants. Even though his health was ruined by itinerating, Woolsey admired this system where circuit riders rode from community to community.

He notes it was a rigorous occupation, riding horseback - or even walking - many miles every day, sleeping in the outdoors in all kinds of weather, and lacking warm clothing and regular meals. Yet he knew this was the only means of bringing the Gospel to scattered people. He wrote "I for one shall have cause, I trust, to bless God to all eternity for that truly apostalical plan of carrying the Gospel to every creature, by means of itinerant ministers. How many parts of our country would have remained destitute of the gospel and gospel ordinances to this day, if they could not have had them until they were able to have a minister settled among them?"

 

Rev. Laban Clark

An influential clergyman from the 19th century was the Rev. Laban Clark, who served Great Hill in 1823 and 24. In 1821, he rode 340 miles to attend the conference in New York City and have his name enrolled as a Methodist preacher.

Like most other itinerants, Clark experienced physical and financial hardships. Writing of his first year on the circuits, Clark said: "After traveling nine months, I received three dollars only, and those to repair my boots. My spending money was exhausted, and I had borrowed five dollars of Mr. Coleman. At the quarterly conference the question came up how the money was to be divided. I told them that Mr. Draper, who had been sent to the east after the conference, had a family, and he must have his share. The elder than asked me for my traveling expenses. I told him that I had none, for I had just entered upon the regular work. He smiled, and told the steward to give me one dollar for shoeing my horse, and for quarterage money paid me seven dollars, so that I had enough to pay what I had borrowed, and a little to spare."

In 1829, Clark served as Presiding Elder in New Haven. He decided the churches would benefit from a Methodist institution of learning in Connecticut. At the New York Conference he proposed to purchase some property, or to find some men who, with himself, would obtain some land for a college. Laban Clark became the father of Wesleyan University. He was president of the Board of Trustees from its inception in 1839 to his death in 1868. He is buried in a small cemetery in the rear of the university

Clark was a highly opinionated man in regards to politics. A thorough Democrat of the old school, he admired Andrew Jackson’s politics, as much as he admired John Wesley’s theology.

 

Rev. William Reeve Webster

The Rev. William Reeve Webster came from England. He converted to Methodism at eight years of age, and studied for the ministry. He was assistant pastor of the church at Liverpool, before coming to America. He itinerated in the American south and was able to minister to the blacks and poor whites. He advocated education for these people and conducted lecture tours, crusading for social and educational re forms.

He was commended for his work by a number of prominent national leaders, including Booker T. Washington, Colonel Roosevelt, President Taft, and a leading evangelist - Sam P. Jones.

One story illustrates his faith and trust in God, even in an emergency. In the spring of 1880, Dr. Webster and his wife were passengers on the steamer Seawanhaka. While outside New York Harbor, the ship caught fire and burned. The passengers jumped overboard with whatever life preservers they could find. Webster and his wife waited in the water for over an hour sharing a single preserver between them. There appeared little hope of rescue.

The heart-rending cries of fellow-passengers w ere heard, as many were drowning. Amid all the screaming and panic, Webster and his wife began singing together one of Charles Wesley’s hymns - "Jesus, Lover of My Soul". A hush came over the scene as the dying were assured the Lord would care for them through all eternity.

Dr. Webster and his wife were finally rescued, although many others died in the disaster. They lived to celebrate their golden wedding anniversary. Many ministers and other friends joined them at their home in Malden, Massachusetts. Soon after, Webster died. At his funeral there were many orations. All testified he was a man strong in faith, mighty in works, large in charity, patient in suffering, and full of zeal for the extension of the kingdom of God.

 

Early Methodists at Great Hill Had No Musical Accompaniment

Editor’s Note: The following story, extracted from Miss Mary Hull’s History of Great Hill Church, discusses events which occurred before the church was built. Early in its history, Great Hill Methodists first met outdoors, then in private homes. Later they came to use the Great Hill School House. This facility was also used by the Episcopalians. The services, then called meetings, would be conducted by one of the denominations, and members of the other denomination would attend as well. The early Methodists were raised in the tradition of singing by following a choral leader or choir. Below is their reaction the first time a musical accompaniment was tried here, during a joint worship of Episcopalians and Methodists at the old School House.

* * * *

In spite of the absence of organ or any musical instrument, the singing long ago was excellent, there being many good voices, especially male, so lacking in modern choirs.

Cyrus Botsford was leader in 1810, and later my grandfather John Clarke Hull held that position. A pitch pipe was normally used, but Grandfather needed none as he had the gift of "absolute pitch."

Grandma also took part singing "counter" as recorded by the Rev. Bassett in his reminiscences. Counter was apparently a part sung in harmony with the main theme, which required a real musical ear.

Here I will insert an incident as related by my father. I quote:

"In summer, services were occasionally held by the Episcopalians. Rev. W.F. Walker was resident rector of Trinity, and he made up quite a class for confirmation (of Great Hill'ers). His connection with the school committee had made him unpopular with the Great Hill Methodists and the usual choir did not come forward at these services. Something had to be done. Somebody must be found who could lead the music.

"Sheldon Lake was mentioned and all agreed that, as he was a fiddler of high order, he could set the tune and accompany the singing.

"Shell was interviewed and promised to come. Of course, everybody was there to see him lead the music. The old school house was crammed and he was there on time, screwing up his fiddle and conferring with Mr. Walker. I laughed at the idea of a fiddle in meeting.

"The opening hymn was read by the minister. Rising to his feet, Shell announced, ‘We’ll sing St. Martins,’ and proceeded to give the harmony on his fiddle.

"With no choir leader and no choir, not a voice was heard, each one waiting for the other. Shell sawed away on his own hook and finished the tune. Then with an injured air sat down, remarking, as he did so, ‘Now I have raised the Devil.’

"This farce over, the minister, after some embarrassment, proceeded in a dignified manner without music. Sheldon’s services were not again sought after."

This episode must have occurred around the year 1849, before the church was built.

Miss Mary Hull

Editor’s Note: Those who have attended Great Hill for many years will remember when the church got its first organ early in the fifties. Prior to that time, the hymn singing was accompanied by a piano which was in the area where the lectern now stands in the sanctuary.