The Spring Street Station had now attained the reputation of being the first charge in the Conference. The Church edifice, as we have seen, was decidedly respectable, both in size and character. The membership was enterprising, and full of the spirit of labor. In its official Board were found L.S. Kellogg, G.F. Austin, John H. Van Dyke, Geo. E.H. Day, James Seville, J.C. Henderson, W.W. Lake, Wm. Rowbotham, George Southwell, Wm. R. Jones, Wm. L. Boughton, John Kneene, Wm. Cossentine, C.F. Larigo and Charles Randall. And during the year John Kemp, Cornelius Morse, Mitchell Steever, C.C. Chamberlin and Henry Seiler were added.

My salary was fixed on the basis of the old Disciplinary allowance: Quarterage, $216; Table Expenses, $200; House Rent, $125; Traveling Expenses, $5; making a total of $546. This amount would be considered a small allowance at the present time, but at that early day it was believed to be a generous provision for a family of three persons.

My first Sabbath, always a trial day to the Preachers as well as the people, passed without any special disaster. Perhaps it was owing in part to the presence of the Presiding Elder, who sat at my back. Whatever he or the people may have thought, I certainly felt that I was a mere stripling going out with nothing in my hand but a sling and a pebble. Nor did it relieve my embarrassment when I saw the great congregation, and remembered that they had enjoyed for two years the ministry of the most eloquent man in the Conference.

It is said that a minister ought always to be ready to preach or to die. I think, on that occasion, if I had been permitted to choose between them, I would have accepted the latter. As it was, I very nearly did both. And that I really did neither, I have always considered a special intervention of Providence. On the part of the people there was evidently a suspension of judgment. They were doubtless puzzled by my contradictory appearances. In form I was slight and fragile, not weighing more than one hundred and thirty pounds, but in my face, though only twenty-eight years of age, I bore the appearance of being ten years older.

At the close of the service a large number of people remained and gave the new Minister a hearty greeting. It was timely, giving me to realize I was not quite gone to the land of shadows.

I was informed afterwards that one good brother went home from the service and told his wife, who had not been present, that he had shaken hands with the new Minister and his daughter. “No, father,” said the daughter, “that lady was not the Minister’s daughter, but his wife.” “Well,” replied the father, “she must be his second wife, for she looks young enough to be his daughter.” Whether this opinion should be interpreted as complimentary to the Minister or his wife, I was never fully able to decide.

Having passed the crisis, the first Sabbath, and survived the following week, I now began to adjust myself to my work. I was happy to find that the good people were strongly attached to Prayer and Class-Meetings. This gave an assurance that there were at least some efficient laborers in the Church, who could be relied on if we should find ourselves in a revival. I also found that the people could endure a large amount of pastoral visiting. These discoveries were enough for a start, and I entered upon the work without delay.

About this time I was called to attend a funeral in one of the families that had gone out from the church the previous year, and were now members of the Wesleyan organization. The next Sabbath morning this family and several others were in my congregation. In the opening prayer I made the poor slave a special subject, as I often did. At the close of the service, the head of one of the families came forward and stated that Mr. McKee, the Pastor of the Wesleyan Church, had gone to the Conference, and hence they were without services for a few Sabbaths. But as for his part, he did not care if he never came back, for I was abolitionist enough for him.

In a few weeks Rev. T. Orbison was sent to the city, in the place of Mr. McKee. After the first Sabbath, he called on me and said that he found his people quite disposed to return to the old Church, and that in consequence, he had dispensed with his services the previous evening, and attended our Church with them. He was now inclined to advise them to return, as he saw no occasion for two organizations. The leading members having previously decided to return, the balance now joined them in the movement, while those who had been gathered from other organizations, returned to their respective homes.

Brother Orbison, in coming to this country from Ireland, fell among the Wesleyans on his arrival, and became identified with them, supposing they were the same body he had left at home. On learning his mistake, he now came over to us, and for many years was a worthy member of the Wisconsin Conference. After doing faithful service for many years, and winning the esteem of all, he laid aside the armor and took up the everlasting crown of rejoicing.

The work of the year was now well begun. The house was filled with people, the finances were in excellent condition, and everything indicated a year of special success, But how strangely light and shadow, hopes and fears, rejoicing and mourning commingle in this life! While we were thus full of hope, and even exultant over the indications of a prosperous year, little did we imagine that we were then on the threshold of a deep affliction, arising from the sudden death of our Presiding Elder.

Brother Springer left the city to hold his Quarterly Meetings at Watertown and Oconomowoc, the writer accompanying him to the city limits. On the 21st of August he closed his Quarterly Meeting services at Watertown, took dinner at the Parsonage with the Pastor, Rev. David Brooks, and then rode on to Oconomowoc. He stopped for the night with Brother Worthington, ate sparingly, and retired at the usual time. At three o’clock in the morning he was seized by the cholera. The attack, severe at first, soon became alarming. Medical aid was called, but without avail. He lingered until six o’clock P.M., and passed away in great peace. His family were sent for, but failed to reach him before his departure. The Funeral Sermon was preached in the Spring Street Church by the writer, from Second Timothy, 4. 6-8.

Brother Springer was received on trial by the Illinois Annual Conference in September, 1833. His appointments before coming to Milwaukee District had been, Carlinville, Iroquois, Oplaine, Saminoc, Bristol, Lockport, Joliet, St. Charles, Mineral Point and Hazel Green.

Brother Springer was a man of commanding presence. In form erect, full and athletic, with a broad, high forehead, and an intellectual face. The whole cast of the man indicated strength. He was a sound theologian, an able Preacher and a wise and vigilant administrator. He was emphatically a true man, and, as a Presiding Elder, very popular. The loss of such a man, at forty years of age, was a great disaster to the Conference.

Soon after the death of Brother Springer, Rev. I.M. Leihy was appointed as his successor on the District. Brother Leihy entered the Conference in 1843, and before coming to the District, had been stationed at Hazel Green, Elizabeth, Mineral Point, Platteville, Southport, and Beloit He was a man of marked ability both as a Preacher and administrator. His leading endowment was strength, and on some chosen subject, a subject to which he had given special attention, his preaching was overwhelming. He was a man of immense will force, and not a whit behind the chief of his brethren in his devotion to the Master’s cause. Neither storms nor other impediments deterred him from his work. With a face set as a flint against every obstacle in his path of duty, he drove straight on to fulfil the convictions of his dauntless spirit. By some he was thought to be severe, and not a little exacting, but those who knew him best were tolerant of his idiosyncrasies, and were prepared to assign him a chief place among his brethren. After completing his term on the District, he filled several important appointments, but finally located and removed to California, where at the present writing, as for several years past, he is again engaged in the regular work.

During the fall and early winter there was manifest a growing spiritual interest among the people, which culminated ultimately in an extensive revival of religion. The protracted meeting continued five weeks, and resulted in the conversion of seventy-five souls.

The plan of holding Platform Missionary Meetings was continued during this year, and largely increased the contributions of the people. While on my way in company with Brother Leihy, to attend such a meeting at Port Washington, I formed the acquaintance of Brother Jesse Hubbard and his good lady at Mequon, where we halted for dinner. For many years this residence was the home of Itinerant Preachers and the nucleus of Christian society in that region.

The dedication of the German Methodist Church at Sheboygan occurred in April of this year. I went down to perform the service in a steamer, but when ready to return, the waves were running too high for the boat to make the pier. The mishap left my Pulpit without a supply for the Sabbath, an event which seldom transpired, but gave me an opportunity to make the acquaintance of our people in that part of the Conference, and the pleasure of preaching twice at Sheboygan and once at Sheboygan Falls.

During the summer of 1851 the cholera raged in Milwaukee in a most appalling manner. The whole city was a hospital. For several days together it was claimed there were fifty deaths per day. Though earnestly entreated to leave the city, as many others had done, I declined, feeling that my life was no more precious than the lives of others. Besides, it seemed to me, if there is ever a time when a people need the aid of their Pastor, it is when they are in peril and affliction. When at the height of its ravages, I repeatedly attended six funerals a day, and visited a dozen sick persons. The very men whom I met at a funeral one day, I would bury the next. Mingling thus daily with the sick and dying, I could not well escape myself. I suffered two attacks during the season, but through great mercy, the lives both of myself and family were spared.

During this terrible visitation I had frequent opportunities to test the value of the Christian religion. So marked was the difference between the death-bed scenes of Christians and the unconverted that even Infidels themselves could not refrain from referring to it. As if to teach the people this great lesson, there were a few instances of triumphant deaths, and a few of the opposite class. One good sister, as she was gliding across the stream, enquired, “Is this Jordan?” She was told it was. “How calm and placid are its waters,” she added. “I expected to find the billows running high, but, glory to Jesus! there is not a ripple upon all the stream.”

Unlike this scene was the death of a young man who had sent for me in great haste. On entering the room, I recognized him as a young man whom I had repeatedly urged, during our meeting of the previous winter, to give himself to the Saviour. He was now in the throes of dissolution and I could hardly hope to reach him. Wild with frenzy, he seemed to pray and curse with the same breath. As a momentary interval occurred between the paroxysms, I sought to arrest his attention and divert his thought to Christ. He turned his piercing eyes on me and said, “Oh! it is too late. Last winter, if I had yielded to your kind admonitions, all would now be well, but it is too late, too late.” Another paroxysm seized him, and he was lost to all consciousness, and soon ceased to breathe.

Another event occurred this year of which mention should be made in this connection. It is the notorious riot. I quote from “Milwaukee Methodism.” “Rev. Mr. Leahy, a minister in the Protestant Methodist Church, after visiting several of the principal cities of the Union, came to Milwaukee. Having spent many years in a monastery, and having become convinced of his error, he now sought to enlighten the people on the subject of the confessional. He proposed, in coming to the city, to give a course of lectures in a public hall during the ensuing week. On the intervening Sabbath he was invited to occupy several of the Pulpits of the city. He had already filled one in the morning, another in the afternoon, and then came to the Spring Street Church in the evening. The house was filled as usual. He opened the services in the regular order, took his text and began the delivery of his sermon. Immediately a crowd of strange men began to press in at the door and push along up the center aisle. At a given signal, a rush was made towards the Pulpit. Comprehending the situation in an instant, the Pastor, from his position in the Pulpit, ordered them back, and at the same time directed the men nearest the aisle and altar to intercept their advance. A stone was hurled at the Pastor’s head, but it missed its mark and crashed against the wall in the rear of the Pulpit. But L.S. Kellogg, L.L. Lee and others stood firmly in the aisle and dealt some vigorous blows in response to the clubs and other missiles with which they were being severely bruised. At this moment Dr. Waldo W. Lake, who was sitting in the altar, drew a revolver which he on leaving home had put in his pocket, expecting after service to visit a patient in an exposed part of the city, and instantly the rioters fell back and retreated through the entrance to the street. During the conflict the audience room was a wild scene of confusion. The ladies became greatly alarmed, and required the attention of a large number of gentlemen in making their escape from the building. The door being thronged with the rioters, the principal egress was found to be the windows next to the street, and these were elevated a full story above the pavement. Ladders, wagons, and other impromptu scaffolding were provided, and large numbers of ladies were rescued in this way, while others were crowded against the sides of the room until the rioters had withdrawn. After quiet had been restored measures were taken to convey the speaker safely to his lodgings at the hotel. But a good number of revolvers, carried by a posse of earnest men, were a sufficient protection against all evil-minded persons that thronged the streets on the way.”

The city was rocked with excitement. Early next morning a meeting was held in the Church edifice that had thus been made the scene of a riotous assault. The populace interpreted the affair rightly. It was not so much an attack upon a Protestant Church as an assault against the freedom of speech, one of the most sacred rights of the people. After expressing suitable indignation against the actors and abettors of the riot, and resolving to protect the freedom of speech so long as it should not offend against public morals, the meeting appointed a committee to wait on Mr. Leahy, and, on behalf of the community, guarantee him protection in his rights. Under this protection a lecture was given in the Free Congregational Church, and another on the public square, when, all danger of assault having disappeared, he was permitted to go on his way.

The only persons seriously hurt were L.L. Lee and L.S. Kellogg. The first was compelled to carry a hand in a sling for a long time, and the latter was considerably injured by a blow from a club on the head. The blood ran freely, but he was able to attend the Law and Order Meeting the following morning. His speech on the occasion became a watchword among the people. He said in a very resolute manner, “Our Fathers fought for freedom, both civil and religious, and if we have got to fight the battle over again I am ready, and I am willing that my blood should be the first to flow.” The city appropriated one hundred and fifty dollars to repair the damages done to the Church edifice.

Bishop Waugh made us a visit near the close of the year. He was on his way to the Conference to be held at Waukesha, and went with us to the Camp-Meeting at Brookfield. Spring Street Station made no inconsiderable part of the Meeting. She pitched a tent that would accommodate one hundred and fifty persons, and it was well filled from the beginning to the end of the Meeting. It was a Meeting of great power. None who heard the exhortations of the good Bishop at the close of his Sunday morning sermon can ever forget it. After holding the vast congregation spell-bound for more than an hour in the delivery of the sermon, the old man, with locks as white as the driven snow, came down from the stand, and, standing on a seat in the Altar, began to invite mourners. The motives of the Gospel were presented one after another, the tide of feeling rising, until the Bishop was master of the occasion, and seemed to sway the people at his pleasure. The Bishop’s voice grew grandly eloquent as his great soul rose to the level of the effort, and before it and its burden of truth, the people began to bend, then brake, and finally flew to the Altar. Nor did the exhortation cease until the Altar was literally crowded with seeking penitents.

The Scandinavian work was this year opened in Wisconsin. To further this object the Missionary Management at New York sent forward Rev. C. Willerup, placing him at the beginning under my care. On reaching the city he found the population using the Scandinavian language too small to organize the work, and we deemed it advisable to explore the interior. To do this he must have an Itinerant’s outfit, consisting at least of horse and saddle-bags. While he was employed in settling his family in a rented house, I visited the market and purchased a horse for him and the other necessary articles, using my own funds until drafts should be received from the Missionary Treasury. The desired location for the first Mission was found at Cambridge, where Brother Willerup organized a Society and subsequently erected a Church edifice. From this small beginning has since grown a family of charges and a line of able Ministers, constituting a Presiding Elder’s District.

The Conference year had now come to a close. Many changes had occurred in Spring Street Station. In consequence of the cholera, and the consequent stagnation of business, large numbers of the people went into the country. But notwithstanding this depletion, such had been the number of accessions, one hundred and seven in all, that I was able to report one hundred and fifty-seven members and sixty-three probationers, making a total of two hundred and twenty.

The financial plan, adopted at the beginning of the year, that of collecting the funds in the classes, had proved a success. At the close of the year, the Pastor was fully paid, and the Society was out of debt.