Mound Of Earth

Chapter XXI

      The need for an altar is a refrain from Genesis to Revelations – a call for a sacred spot whereon God and man may meet in fellowship.  Those were nomadic times – years of great migrations when people were searching for places where each might ‘sit under his own figtree’ and work out his own destiny.  Indeed, they were not unlike our own continent’s early history when our pioneers moved across the land and settled where freedom seemed to beckon and where each could establish his own fireside and friendships.

      Unlike the pagans through all history who worshipped the work of their own hands in the form of idols, or our own American Indians, who, in their kivas, carried out their rituals around a fire in the belief that they could commune with nature’s gods for the planting and maturing of crops, for successful hunts and giving thanks for “prayers, answered and unanswered” - our forefathers of the Christian faith required only an altar, simple though it might be and in a log cabin or school house, where a few could come together to worship and feel the contagion of heaven that would sustain them through the coming week.

      In February1854, six years after Lucas county was organized, a little band of eight persons gathered in a log school house in Union township and organized the Goshen Baptist Church.  The next year they called to their pastorate the Rev. William Barnett of Peoria, a little town (later a rail station) about a mile northwest of the Wayne county line.  He accepted the call, and since there were no roads as yet, he made the journey on horseback once a month, following paths through the tall prairie grass, timber and across streams to preach Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning.  He was their good shepherd for nearly 40 years.  Under his leadership, they built a church on land donated by George Courtney.  This required several years because the native timber had to be made into lumber and seasoned.  The work was largely donated but funds were required for the sawing and for making the “seats and pulpit” (lectern).  The seats cost $12.  The cost of the lectern is not given.  The congregation held its first service November 1867, after which services were held each Sunday.

      Minister’s salaries of that day were by no means upward bound.  In 1860 the congregation voted a $100 salary for that year.  Eight years later, they voted in favor of each member paying the pastor $1 for his salary from July 4 to January 1869.  The record states, “A rising vote was taken as was almost unanimous.”

      Nine years after the church was built, the congregation voted to move across the road.  They bout two acres of land for $30, but before they could make the move, a tornado whirled across the land leaving a swath of ruin.  Undaunted, the congregation set about the new task, just as did Nehemiah and his people when they rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem and of which he later wrote, “we built the wall for the people had a mind to work”.  In 13 months under the leadership of Hezekiah Pollard, Capt. Stephen Low and the “Venerable Alfred Conner”, they erected the church that stands atop the hill today.

      The biographies of Mr. Pollard and Mr. Conner are in the MEMORIAL RECORD OF IOWA, published in 1896.  Both men came to town in 1852.  Mr. Pollard was born in Indiana and had worked on a farm there for $6 a month and board.  He came here in a two-horse wagon with a wife and four children.  It was a two-month journey, camping whenever night overtook them.

      He bought 300 acres of “raw” land (the going price was $1.25 an acre) and built a log cabin.  Eventually, he acquired 947 acres all in Union township.  From age 16 he was active in the church throughout his life.  He was the grandfather of Mrs. Olive Calhoun of Chariton and of Otis Morris of Derby.

      Mr. Conner, a native of Virginia, the eldest son among 12 children, was 14 when his father died.  Shortly thereafter the family came to Lucas County where his mother entered land.  He assisted in the support of the family until he was 25 and them married in Chariton, bought 210 acres of land where he lived until death.  He was an ordained deacon.  He was the grandfather of Mrs. Eunice Palmer of Chariton and the great uncle of Ralph Conner of Derby and of Leila Conner, who served the county for 12 years - six years as Deputy Clerk and six years as Recorder.                             

      Goshen has been fruitful.  One hundred years ago it had its first “spin-off” - a group of 13 members were granted letters to organize the Fairview Baptist Church 4½ miles northwest.  In 1883 another group organized a church at Humeston.  As the years sped on it licensed two ministers – Nathaniel Plymate and James Stumbaugh and ordained three:  W. S. Hughes, grandfather of the late Fairie Hughes, long time teacher in the Chariton schools, the Rev. Marion Sigler, great uncle of Mrs. Chester (Velma) Tuttle formerly of Chariton, now of Lenox, Iowa, and the Rev. M. S. Clark, father of S. M. Clark of Chariton.  Rev. Clark served five years then 35 years later, he was called a second time and served six years.  In 1903 two deacons were ordained - J. W. Grimes and N., H. Robison, father of Paul Robison of Chariton and the late Mrs. Lillie Mosbey.

      During its long history, Goshen has held many revival meetings.  The reverence stirred and reflected by those services is warmly expressed in one typical item in the church log book – “Thus ended a joyous series of meetings in which the power of God was manifest in the salvation of souls”.  In 1936 the Rev. Archie Beals was called and served until 1954, alternating with the May Church in Sunday evening services.  During his pastorate the church experienced a deep spiritual awakening and a renewed devotion for Bible Study.  Through all its 115 years, even during months without a regular pastor, Goshen’s Sunday School organization has remained constant.  The doors have never been closed on Sunday mornings.

      The complete record of the church, beginning with its organization to the present, has been carefully kept and its earliest history was loaned to this writer.  Although written by a succession of clerks, all is in prideful Spencerian hand and illustrates how much was lost when penmanship was relegated far down the list of valued accomplishments.  Perusing its pages of many decades, one observes that here at Goshen, as with most of the early churches, the religious body was the mentor, the wise and faithful counselor, the standard bearer of community morals and it went about its task with dedication.  Business meetings followed the worship services.  Committees were appointed to call on any who were delinquent in attendance or whose conduct had been unseemly or out of harmony with the standards of piety.  The report of these committees were acted upon promptly.  While some of their rulings seem quaint to us, even overwhelming, yet it was their high endeavor to carry their share of responsibility in the building of a nation strong and great.  This was their lode star and the Bible was their corner-stone.  They acted in good faith as they saw the light.  Let us be grateful for their puritanical concepts.

      Here are a few samples of what they called “references” and how they handled them.  “Resolved that we take a vote, whether brother G was to blame for trading his oxen to Mr. X.  Voted to give brother G a certificate that he was not to blame at all.”  “Appointed sisters C and D a committee to investigate reports circulating, touching the character of sister A.  Report found to be true, but sister A made satisfaction of her repentance and asked forgiveness of the church and if consistent with their feelings, she be retained in Christian fellowship.  Whereupon the church grants forgiveness.”  “On statement of Mr. R. that brother H acknowledged to him that he “played cards” and would do it again if he had the opportunity, brother H was on motion, expelled from the church.”  “On statement of Mr. L. that brother J. acknowledged having profaned the name of God, a committee was appointed to visit said brother and report.  Brother J made restitution and was later restored to church fellowship.”

      “All that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity”

      We walk among the departed.  A stroll on this gentle hillside, as in all cemeteries, reveals much that was and is amiss.  The death rate among children before the advancement of medical science, causes the heart to sink.  At this spot, three children of the Mundells are entombed - two infants in 1900 and another in 1903.  Farther on are three of the Irwins - the twins, age one year, ten months, died five days apart.  Previously, another child of 11 months had died.

      “How far is it called to the grave?

      How far” O, ‘this close to the hearthstone,

      Alas for the baby feet,

      The little bare feet that all unled

      Are going with steps so fleet,

      And they are almost there.”

- Author unknown

      There lies a boy of one month.  His inscription:

      “How much of light, How much of joy is buried with a darling boy.”

      Here lie the Conner children - two of them:

      God blesses with an early death

      And takes the infant home.”

      The Third:

      “Sleep on sweet babe and take they rest

      God calls only when He thinks best.”

      Here lie many families of the early church:  The Wades, Pollards, Irwins, Conners, Bargers, Mundells, Courtneys, Pulleys and many others.  Early shepherds of the flock - Rev. James Stumbaugh, Rev. J. J. Sigler, Rev. M. S. Clark.  It is fitting that they should sleep here.  In life they loved and served there, in death they were not divided.

      One pauses at the grave of Rebecca Newton - age 99 and the great-great-grandmother of the Snook family, many of whom live in Lucas county.  We tarry at the graves of the Alexander Joneses - parents of nine children, six of whom remain in the county of their birth.  A magnificent Cedar tree sheds it soothing coolness in perpetual shade here.  Under another Cedar tree gnarled and knotted, lies Sarah Scholes and her daughter Ann.  No date is discernible but the great tree tells its own story as eloquently as did the poet Bryant: “The tree shall send his roots abroad and pierce they mould”.

      Walking on and on, one is mindful of those who gave their all that the rest of us might live free and unafraid.  Ah, too much is amiss as peoples of the world never learn to live in peace.  As a result, 25 veterans of our many wars lie here and at each hallowed spot one visualizes the uniformed bugler as he intones the soul-melting taps - the Soldiers’ Hymn of Rest”.  Here in the Mosbey lot with mother, father and sister, stands the memorial marble for Lyle Mosbey age 23, Electrician Second class, lost on the U. S. submarine Scorpion, January 1943.

      Over there is the freshest mound of sorrow for Petty Officer 3-C Larry Peterson, 37, who lost his life in the cruel crash of a helicopter while on a mission of mercy flight to San Diego, June 1969.

      “They brought them home from the wars

      And their children fatherless crying

      All are sleeping, sleeping on the hill.”

 - Spoon River

      The mind shudders at the total price in human lives and recalls the message scrawled on a concrete wall in Vietnam. “For those who fight for it, freedom is the taste the protected will never know.”

The Fisher-Webb Cemetery

      About two miles south of Goshen and high above the road-cut that is highway 65, is the all-but-forgotten acre known as the Fisher or Webb cemetery.  It seems to date from about 1855.  Passing through the open date, the eye falls at once upon the lone Civil War marker.  Only the footstone is there.  This, then is the grave of a Civil War veteran known only to God.  Eighteen graves are all that can be counted here - some only by footstones.  Headstones are in disarray, most leaning disconsolately as if hoping that someone will care enough to reset them.

      Again, too many graves of children.  One kneels and with bare hand pulls away the ever-encroaching turf from a flattened, sadly weathered stone.  This marked the grave of Nancy and Laura Dennis, twins who died at birth in 1862.  Two doves symbolize these precious little ones.  Another stone in another place memorializes Emily, five months old who died in 1862.  In grief the parents poured out this farewell:

      “God needs one more angel child

      Amid His shining band

      And so He bent with loving smile

      And clasped our Emmie’s hand.”

      Near a beautiful oak tree, but displaced and lying a-wry are two headstones indicating that somewhere under this sod the mortal remains of Mr. and Mrs. Leonard Fisher were laid to rest ten years apart but with the same inscription on each.

      “Yet again we hope to meet thee

      When the storm of life has fled

      Then in heaven in joy we greet thee

      Where no farewell tears are shed.”

      The latest grave here is that of Elizabeth, wife of John McFisher, dated 1906.  Standing in this deserted little plot, one hears the whiz-by of a feverish and speed-maddened generation as contrasted with the serenity that is enhanced by the presence of birds and the surrounding thicket.  In this solitude there steals into the mind the words of an unknown poet:

      “There is no death, there’s immortality”.

Pages 84 - 90

Select Older Posts below right - for more chapters