Peter Cartwright: God's Breaking Plow

“The American frontier was mile after mile of unbroken wilderness, and the trail from Virginia to Kentucky was peppered with thousands of hostile Indians who scalped many a white adventurer. Defying death itself, the Cartwright family set out on the risky journey with little more than the clothes on their backs and the horses underneath them.

It was shortly after the American colonies gained independence from Great Britain when Peter Cartwright’s parents headed south. Cartwright’s father was accustomed to risky situations. After all, he was a solider who fought for America’s liberty in the Revolutionary War. The crossing marked the beginning of a new life for young Cartwright, who was born in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains on September 1, 1785. That young boy would grow up to become an American Methodist circuit rider and one of history’s most fascinating ministers of the Gospel.

After successfully avoiding the native Indians, Cartwright and his family arrived in Lincoln County, Kentucky, the 15th state in the Union, and rented a farmhouse. The family would later move to Logan County, just one mile from the Tennessee state line, in 1793. Logan County had an ominous reputation. It was widely known as “Rogues Harbor” and was populated with every vile sort of despot, from murderers to highway bandits to horse thieves.

There were no grocery stores, mills or schools to be found in Logan County. Living meant living off the land. The woods were crowded, however, with “canes,” turkeys and other wild game. Like other early American pioneering families, the Cartwrights learned to kill their own meat, beat their own meal, bake their own bread, and spin their own clothes.

Back in those days Cartwright was a wild young man who loved playing cards, gambling and dancing. While Cartwright’s father overlooked many of his vices, his mother feared God too much to ignore her son’s sinful behavior. If she caught him betting on a horse race, she greeted him with some stern words that usually ended with a tearful, yet monishing prayer. You see, Cartwright’s father “wasn’t much into religion” but his mother was a dedicated Methodist.

By the time Cartwright was 16, feelings of guilt and condemnation over his sinful condition finally caught up with him. He wrestled with a deep agony over this malady for several months. He was convinced he was going to die ill prepared to meet his Maker. Then, one night, he promised God that if He would spare his life then he would “seek and serve him.” Sometime after that he heard a voice from heaven saying, “Peter, look at me.”

Although Cartwright’s mother prayed with him many times during this seeking period, his soul found no relief. He was often tempted with thoughts that he might be a reprobate who was eternally lost with no chance of salvation. But the Holy Spirit was right on time. From 1800 to 1801 a great spiritual awakening broke out. It was the Cane Ridge Revival – an outpouring of the Holy Spirit that powerfully impacted the region – and it was the birthing of American Pentecost.

More than 20,000 people showed up for a six-day camp meeting at which James B. Finely, who later became a Methodist circuit rider, was converted. Finley wrote, “The noise was like the roar of Niagara. The vast sea of human beings seemed to be agitated as if by a storm. I counted seven ministers, all preaching at one time, some on stumps, others in wagons and one standing on a tree which had, in falling, lodged against another. I stepped up on a log where I could have a better view of the surging sea of humanity. The scene that then presented itself to my mind was indescribable. At one time I saw at least 500 swept down in a moment as if a battery of 1,000 guns had been opened upon them, and then immediately followed shrieks and shouts that rent the very heavens.” (Mendell Taylor, Exploring Evangelism, pg.142)

One Saturday night in May 1801 Cartwright attended a similarly charged camp meeting where he also accepted Jesus as his Savior. At this open-air assembly, with mother and friends present, he was mightily converted to the Christian life. The next month he joined the Methodist church. A year later, his family moved about 80 miles west near the mouth of the Cumberland River. He applied for a church membership transfer and received a letter licensing him as an “exhorter” in the Methodist church. The letter read, “Peter Cartwright is hereby permitted to exercise his gifts as an exhorter in the Methodist Episcopal Church, so long as his practice is agreeable to the Gospel. Signed in behalf of the society at Ebenezer, Jesse Walker, A.P. May 1802.”

Cartwright attended school for a short while in his new city, but other students persecuted him for his faith. When his teacher refused to intervene, he quit school; he later regretted that he never finished his education. He did learn, however, to “read, write and cipher.” Despite his lack of education, God had big plans for the young man. When Cartwright was but 18 he was asked to accompany Brother Lotspeich on the Cumberland Circuit. At the first meeting in October 1803 Lotspeich asked Cartwright to preach. Cartwright told the man of God that he only carried an Exhorter’s license. Lotspeich insisted. Cartwright obeyed. Before the meeting he prayed fervently, asking God for a particular sign that he was truly called to preach: at least one salvation.

That night Cartwright entered the meetinghouse, took his stand, chose a hymn, sang, and prayed. Then, with all the boldness he could muster, he preached on the verse “Trust ye in the Lord forever: for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength” (Isaiah 26:4). The congregation broke out in tears and, sure enough, God confirmed his calling when a “professional infidel” was born again.

For the next several years Cartwright met the hardships of frontier preaching with apostolic faith and resolve. Working with a seldom-kept promise of $80 a year support he spent weeks at a time on the intrepid trail. Much like Francis Asbury, the founding bishop of American Methodism, he demonstrated the lifestyle of the circuit rider, traveling some 270,000 miles and preaching more than 16,000 sermons. Cartwright possessed pioneering grit that helped him to preach almost every day and every night on the trail. He wrote about the life of a circuit rider in his autobiography:

“A Methodist preacher, when he felt that God had called him to preach, instead of hunting up a college or Biblical Institute, hunted up a hardy pony, and some traveling apparatus, and with his library always at hand, namely, a Bible, Hymn book, and (Methodist) Discipline, he started, and with a text that never wore out nor grew stale, he cried, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.’ In this way he went through storms of wind, hail, snow, and rain; climbed hills and mountains, traversed valleys, plunged through swamps, swollen streams, lay out all night, wet, weary, and hungry, held his horse by the bridle all night, or tied him to a limb, slept with his saddle blanket for a bed, his saddle-bags for a pillow. Often he slept in dirty cabins, ate roasting ears for bread, drank butter-milk for coffee; took deer or bear meat, or wild turkey, for breakfast, dinner, and supper. This was old-fashioned Methodist preacher fare and fortune.”

Cartwright even had peculiar signs and wonders occur at many of his meetings. People called it “the jerks.” Suddenly, during a song or sermon, people would just begin jerking uncontrollably. It didn’t seem to matter if they were saint or sinner. If they resisted, the jerks would intensify. If they yielded and prayed the jerks would subside. Some would rise up and dance and others would run to obtain relief. Cartwright said he saw as many as 500 people at a time get these jerks. To him it was an amusing sign of God’s presence.

Cartwright possessed the needed qualities to survive the harsh and dangerous world of the American frontier wilderness. The circuit rider had to fight and preach, oftentimes dealing with ruffians, rowdies and disrupters who attended their meetings. Cartwright tells the story of two fashionably dressed sisters who attended one of his meetings in 1804. Their brothers, who stayed outside, saw them get the jerks. This disturbed the duo and they determined to horsewhip Cartwright after the meeting. They laid in wait for him outside the church and when he came through the door they accused him of giving their sisters some concoction he kept in his pocket. They blamed the jerking episode on whatever he kept hidden in his pocket.

What the brothers didn’t know was that Cartwright often carried a tin of peppermint in his pocket to freshen his breath before he spoke – and that’s what they saw him retrieve. Cartwright, trying to avoid the whipping, answered them directly. Removing the tin from his pocket, he said, “I need not deny it. Yes, I gave them the jerks and I can give them to you, too.” Fear struck the brothers and they ran away, threatening to kill him if he followed.

In his autobiography, Cartwright also wrote about the time he recruited one of the area’s most feared rowdy leaders to help him maintain order outside the camp grounds. In those days men and women sat on different sides of the church. A young man of swaggerer fashion had his hair in a roach with a fancy curl across the top from front to back. The young man always sat in the ladies’ section. Cartwright spoke to him about this forbidden encroachment but the young man persisted. Determined to solve this problem, Cartwright had a powwow with the rowdy leader about this young man’s obstinance.

The rowdy told Cartwright he would take care of the young fellow so long as he could have a little fun with him. So under the pretense of offering the young man something to drink the rowdies lured him into the woods where they took scissors and gave him the “newest Nashville fashion.” Trembling with fear, the young man bee-lined it back to the campground where he met Cartwright. Taking off his hat he said, “Look what them rowdies have done!” Cartwright had a very difficult time not breaking out in laughter and told him he should say nothing about it or the rowdies might do something worse. The young man was cured from disrupting any more meetings.

Cartwright married 19-year-old Frances Gaines in August of 1808. Together they had two sons and seven daughters, but he kept right on preaching. Years later, in 1823, Cartwright and his wife sold their Kentucky farm and moved the family to Sangamon County, Illinois where they purchased another farm for $200. A strong opposition to slavery spurred the move. The Christian couple did not want their daughters to marry slave owners.

Cartwright was quickly assigned another ministry circuit. Then five years later he entered politics, believing that Illinois would soon enact laws permitting slavery that he called an “abomination of desolation.” He was elected as a Representative in the 6th and 8th General Assemblies of the Illinois State Legislature in 1828 and again in 1832. Cartwright even ran for U.S. Congress in 1846, but was defeated by a rail-splitter named Abraham Lincoln.

Cartwright served the Lord faithfully throughout his many years of ministry. He went home to be with the Lord on September 25th, 1872. He was 87 years old. Peter Cartwright, God’s breaking plow, left behind the legacy of great American pioneering ministers of the Gospel. He and Frances are buried in the Pleasant Plains Illinois Cemetery just south of town. Inscribed on his tombstone is the text from his first sermon and the words of his favorite hymn.

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