Civil War Articles by Julian WilliamsRev. Conner And His Horse Hit Bumpy Missionary Trail
This article was compiled by Julian Williams.
"Elder" Wilson Conner would be no more. That title was reserved, more or less, for the Old School Primitive Baptists. They believed "Reverend" referred to God and thought "Bishop" and "Elder" were appropriate enough - based on what they found to be handles for the apostles. To avoid people perceiving the modern concept of "Bishop", the conservative and austere body of Primitives had thus chosen the lowly "Elder" for the identification and greeting address of their ecclesiastical leaders.
Wilson Conner was now one of the departed brethren who came to believe that men should embark on missions with an eye to providing the gospel to all people. He was now a New School Missionary Baptist. He would henceforth be known as "Reverend" Wilson Conner. Really the distinction probably had not much effect on the emotions of Wilson Conner because, according to some, he had few of those. Few that showed, anyway. He was one of those heroes of pathfinding - doing what needed to be done, when it needed doing, with not much thought of the consequences. Somewhere out there were lost men, churches not yet raised - somewhere out there was the Holy Grail and he intended to claim it for The Lord. He would drink of The Cup and others would do likewise.
"Psalm 116
12 How can I repay the LORD for all his goodness to me?
13 I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD.
14 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people."
To Wilson Conner that challenge and charge were as clear as the Willcox waters of Spring Lake, located between Jacksonville, Georgia, and Rhine. And he also knew his well-being as a missionary would frequently rely upon the quenching waters of that cold body of water. His horse would drink too. But physical comfort was not a big thing with Wilson Conner. In fact, his feelings did not often get away from him. As was said, he was not high on emotion.
But the lack of emotion in Wilson Conner has cost us some richness of description which has been sacrificed on the altar of pure economics and the fact that the fellow probably didn't care a whole heap about writing lengthy narratives. Sid Johnson in "Longpondium" tells us this:
"His penmanship was adequate, even excellent given his lack of formal education. His style was continuous or "run-on", making it difficult in many instances to separate one day from another. Consequently, his presentation was not so orderly as it has been made here. His spelling is best described as eclectic; he did not feel bound to spell the same word the same way twice. He frequently dropped ending vowels. In all, great effort has been made to carry the substance of the text forward while, at the same time, presenting it in a more organized fashion."
Considering these obscure foibles in his role as wordsmith, Wilson Conner tended to be on the scant side of long descriptions. He had better things to do. But this brevity in word-making was also going to cost The Reverend in the old pocketbook. This is where the "pure economics" got to him - but not for long.
A passage from Sid's book tells us why:
"He entered into the work of domestic missionary with strong commitment, for which he received an annual stipend, usually approximating $240. Toward the end of the decade of the 1820's, the stipend for domestic missionaries became more of an award based on merit and in 1829, Conner's stipend was only $50, based on a somewhat vague report of his activities. Another of the convention's missionaries made an extended report, stating in detail the number of miles he had travelled, sermons he had preached, persons he had baptised, churches he had constituted and dollars raised for the convention and its programs.
Since Conner's basis for compensation was being changed, he immediately began his journal. Thus, what has been viewed for over 150 years as the personal diary of the man is really an account book, by which he proposed to justify his actions as a domestic missionary and the convention's award of a greater stipend for his services."
Well, Wilson Conner knew one thing - subtle politics and long twisting strands of red tape were not restricted to the Oval Office, the Governor's Desk, or even to the Palacio of the Spanish Governor in Florida. Even getting Florida's Pigeon Creek Baptist Church started had its moments. He had butted heads with all of the above but he was finding out you also had to apply a bit of diplomacy in dealing with the Georgia Baptist Convention. He did believe they had changed the rules in midstream but swimmer that he was, he could adjust to the current. Thus, from one who had produced sparsely the evidences of documentation now came a flooding abundance of same. The church would have its records. The odometer on that old horse was about to be set and miles were about to be recorded. He could write while he was drinking his coffee or a cup of that cold water at the Willcoxes.
So, his first "diary" entries are interesting and provides some clues to the character of the man we have come to know as Wilson Conner:
"March 1830
29th left home Monday for the state convention. Rode 35 miles to Mr. McClemons in Immanuel & staid for the night.
30th rode 30 mile and staid for the night with a Methodist Brother on Williamsons swamp.
31st rode 14 mile to Louisville and put up with Sister Powel."
A look at the above passages tells us that Wilson is still plugging along and remains steadfast in his allegiance to the Georgia Baptist Convention despite his misunderstanding of their accounting and auditing procedures for itinerant preachers.
It also tells us that he and that horse are in for some long rides. They must have been tough creatures. It tells us that he had a long range as he seems to be traveling all over the state of Georgia.
Evidently, Wilson Conner had a respect for and communion with his brothers of other faiths (in this case a Methodist). But that was part of what "the split" had been about - open versus closed communion.
Also, it appears that The Reverend was held in the greatest esteem and respect, even by the opposite sex. In a time when travelers dropped in as guests overnight it was almost a foregone conclusion that the womenfolk did not welcome such visitors unless there were male kinfolk around the place. But, it seems, Brother Conner "put up" with Sister Powel. He was trusted.
And she was not all he had "to put up with." Brother Wilson Conner had many miles to go, many homes to stay in, many churches to preach in and more than a few to build. He kept the faith and did his best. He was beloved as a fellowman and a man of God. He was running a good race. His eye was focused and his heart was set. The Holy Grail was within reach. And his horse seemed to be holding up pretty well too.
Credits:
Albert Sidney Johnson for "Longpondium";
Peg Conner Corliss for notes on Wilson Conner;
Fussell Chalker for Pioneer Days Along The Ocmulgee;
Gene Barber for The Way It Was.
