PRE-15-Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen Brother Shaw’s Last Meeting—His Last Day—An Account of the Wreck. A peculiar interest is connected with Brother Shaw’s last meeting, an account of which has been prepared by Elder Kirk Baxter, who was the pastor of the church at Dallas at that time, and not only took part in the meeting, but was with him in the disaster by which his useful life was ended. He thus briefly tells the story:

“ELDER KNOWLES SHAW’S LAST MEETING.

“The earthly labors of this gifted and successful evangelist terminated in a meeting of five weeks with the Commerce Street Christian Church, Dallas, Texas. Arrangements having been made with him a month before for a meeting, to commence on the 4^th of May, 1878, he arrived promptly at the time, direct from his home, Columbus, Mississippi. Several brethren met him at the depot, and conducted him to the residence of Brother L. D. Myers, one of Brother Shaw’s converts in Kansas, and a deacon of the church here. Quite a number had assembled at the house to greet him, although it was late at night. He soon was engaged in earnest conversation, and had a good word for all present. We spent an hour with him, and heard him sing some of his grand songs. The next morning (Lord’s Day) a large audience greeted him in our new meeting-house. His first discourse was a grand effort on ‘The Furtherance of the Gospel.’ All went away delighted with the preacher and his sermon. At night the house would not accommodate the people who thronged to hear him. His service of song, thirty minutes before each sermon, prepared the hearts of the people to receive the truth he had to present. Thus the meeting went on from day to day, commencing promptly at 10 o’clock A.M., and 8 P.M., and I do not think that he varied a moment during the entire meeting. After he had preached several sermons he was asked what he thought as to the success of the meeting. His reply was: ‘That depends very largely upon the work you have done; the preparation you made before I came. To make the meeting a success we must all work, and work together. It is not my meeting, but our meeting, and we must all do our part to make it what it ought to be, and what it will be if we do our duty.’ His ‘morning talks,’ as he called them, were intensely practical and heart-searching, and caused many a lukewarm Christian to tremble as he held up their short-comings before them. In these ‘talks’ there were always two characteristics of this extraordinary man standing out prominently, namely, his devotion to the truth, and his courage in exposing sin wherever he found it. He made his audience feel that he was talking to them, and not to some imaginary crowd. He called evil, evil, and good, good; and his whole effort was to bring his hearers up to a higher and better life. During the interval between the morning and evening meetings he literally went every day from the pulpit to the street, to the work-shop, to the counting-room, to the by-ways and hedges, to all parts of the city, and would come to his work at night full of incidents and illustrations that he had gathered up in his rambles. He had a kind word for every one he met, and the result was that crowds came to hear him preach who never before had taken an interest in the gospel. I never saw a man who had such power over the people. Men who had not been in a church for ten or fifteen years came night after night. Members of other churches, who had been so prejudiced that they would not hear our people, came, and would say of the preaching, ‘It is true; it is just what the Bible teaches.’

“His work went on grandly in this way for five successive weeks, during which he received calls from various parts of the State to go and hold meetings; also some urgent calls from California. The interest increased to the last, and the immediate result was one hundred and twelve additions to the church. His last ‘morning talk’ was on the death of Moses. He said he hoped that God would not permit him to outlive his usefulness; that he wanted to die in the strength of manhood, with the harness on; that if he could have his wish he would like to go from the pulpit to glory; but, if not, he wanted to die suddenly.

“The last night of the meeting was peculiarly solemn and impressive. The house was crowded to overflowing, and many gathered outside to catch the last strain of song and hear his last words. His sermon was one of his grandest efforts. He then gave his farewell talk, which proved to be his last public utterance on earth. He said that we were soon to separate, never to meet on earth; that we knew not who would be taken first; it may be myself, it may be your beloved pastor; God alone knows. Some of us may be dead in less than twenty-four hours. His closing remarks were beautiful—his charge to the preacher, officers and members, to the young converts, to the world—indeed, to all present, for he forgot no one—was deeply impressive. Finally, he asked forgiveness, if in his zeal for the truth, he had wounded the feelings of any one, and, kneeling down, he offered one of the most beautiful and touching prayers that I ever heard. He then sang the following song:

“When my final farewell to the world I have said,
And gladly lie down to my rest:
When softly the watchers shall say, ‘He is dead,’
And fold my pale hands o’er my breast;
And when, with my glorified vision at last
The walls of ‘that city’ I see,
Will any one then at the beautiful gate
Be waiting and watching for me?

“There are little ones glancing about in my path,
In want of a friend and a guide:
There are dear little eyes looking up into mine,
Whose tears might be easily dried;
But Jesus may beckon the children away
In the midst of their grief and their glee—
Will any one, then, at the beautiful gate,
Be waiting and watching for me ?

“There are old and forsaken who linger awhile
In homes which their dearest have left;
And a few gentle words or an action of love
May cheer their sad spirits bereft.
But the Reaper is near to the long-standing corn,
The weary will soon be set free—
Will any one then at the beautiful gate
Be waiting and watching for me?

“Oh, should I be brought there by the bountiful grace
Of Him who delights to forgive:
Though I bless not the weary about on my path,
Pray only for self while I live,
Methinks I should mourn o’er my sinful neglect,
If sorrow in heaven could be;
Should no one I love at the beautiful gate
Be waiting and watching for me?”

After this, the audience then nearly all weeping, were dismissed, yet they lingered to take him once more by the hand, and receive from him a warm “God bless you.” The last farewell was said, and the noble worker’s work was done. From the same hand we have an account of Brother Shaw’s last day, and tragical death. He writes:

“CLEBURNE, TEXAS, June 7, 1879.

“Dear Brother:- Just one year ago, to-day, Brother Shaw was killed. During his last meeting among the numerous calls to labor at other places, was one from the church at McKinney, which sent a delegation to urge him to visit there, if only for a few days. He replied, ‘As that is one of Brother Baxter’s points of labor, I will go.’ His meeting at Dallas closed on the night of the 6^th of June. That night he spent at Brother Dr. Johnston’s. He telegraphed to the church at McKinney, that he and I would be there the next day. Early the next morning there was a tremendous rain-fall, lasting two or three hours. The brethren tried to prevail on him not to go to McKinney that morning, urging that the weather was so unfavorable that he could not have a meeting if he went, and insisted that he should remain in Dallas that day and rest. He replied, ‘No; we have telegraphed the brethren we would be there, and we must go; that there was no time for rest now; rest would come by and by.’ I met him at the depot about seven o’clock that morning, as lively and cheerful as I ever had seen him. He had bought his ticket and was ready to start. We took a seat in the car, and, in a few moments, were off. We conversed a few moments in regard to the work at McKinney. He then took up the morning paper and looked through it. While thus engaged, I left him, and went forward to the front of the car, and was about to pass out to the coach ahead, when someone called me by name. I turned, and saw a Methodist minister, Mr. Malloy, whom I had known years before in Arkansas. I sat down by him, and spent some time in conversation. He asked me about our meeting in Dallas, and Brother Shaw. I told him that Mr. Shaw was on the train, and just at that moment caught his eye, and beckoned to him, and he came to where we were seated. I introduced him to Rev. Mr. Malloy, and gave him my seat, and took the next one. Mr. Malloy asked him to tell him the secret of his success in protracted meetings, which Brother Shaw proceeded to do in a very earnest manner, saying he depended much on the power of a song-preached Christ; always kept Jesus before the people; made them feel that they were sinners, and needed just such a Savior as he preached; that he never became discouraged; had confidence in the gospel truth as the power of God; that he loved his work, and became wholly absorbed in it; and added: ‘Oh, it is a grand thing to rally people to the Cross of Christ.’ At that moment, I turned to see if we were in sight of McKinney, and I felt the car was off the track, bouncing over the ties. I did not feel in any danger; did not know that we were on an embankment, and expected that we would check up in a moment or two. I saw Brother Shaw rise from his seat, and realized at once that the car was going over. Not a word was spoken. I saw Brother Shaw alive no more. All became as dark as night. When I came to myself, the coach was at the bottom of the embankment, and I was its only occupant. I looked round, but all were gone. When I got out, I saw the passengers on the railroad track above me, and made my way up to them. The first one I met was Mr. Malloy, with whom Brother Shaw was seated at the time of the accident. I said to him, ‘Have you seen Brother Shaw.’ ‘NO,’ said he, ‘I fear he is under the wreck; but he saved my life by pushing me from the position in which he himself fell.’ I waited to hear no more, but ran down to the wreck, looked in, and saw a man’s hand pointing upward out of the water. It was Brother Shaw’s hand. I called for help, and in about fifteen minutes he was taken lifeless from the water. Portions of the wreck had to be cut away with an ax before the body could be reached and removed. I had the body placed in the baggage-car, which had not been thrown from the track, and sent to McKinney, where it was taken charge of by the brethren and placed in the church. I sent a telegram to Dallas, telling the sad news. In a short time, a deep gloom pervaded the whole city, as from house to house passed the sad words, ‘Brother Shaw is dead.’ Quite a number were injured by the accident; some very severely. My own injuries were of a serious nature, much more so than I at first supposed. Such was Brother Shaw’s last day on earth. KIRK BAXTER.”

“The Dallas papers, of June the 8^th, give the following account of the wreck:

“A disastrous accident to the north-bound passenger train, on the Houston and Texas Central Railroad, occurred about two miles south of McKinney, at a quarter past nine o’clock yesterday morning, which was attended with death and destruction.

“The train consisted of engine, baggage and mail car, two passenger coaches, and a sleeper, and was running at usual speed. Arriving at the point designated, which was on an embankment about forty feet high, and near Wilson’s Creek, a broken rail precipitated the rear coach and the sleeper down the embankment, and completely wrecked that part of the train. All the other parts ran over the break in the road, and were not materially damaged. The first news received of the accident was a telegram to Captain C. M. Wheat from Elder Kirk Baxter, pastor of the Christian Church here, breaking the startling intelligence, that Elder Knowles Shaw, who was in company with him aboard the train, was killed outright, and requesting him to come up at once.

“A number of telegrams were sent and received during the morning, yet the answers received were rather vague and contradictory. Throughout the day there was great anxiety felt in this city, as a majority of the passengers had friends here who were desirous of knowing the fate of the passengers after the first news of the accident had been confirmed.

“The very latest and fullest account, both by telegraph and from reporters detailed to go to the scene of the accident, is to the effect that there were in all twenty-seven persons more or less wounded, and one killed. Of the wounded, the following names are those who were at McKinney, at the American House, late yesterday evening; the others having gone north on the train which went on to its destination in an hour or so after the accident. Those whose names do not appear in the list of wounded, received slight bruises only.

“WOUNDED.

“Rev. George W. Henry, of Denison, severely about the head.

“Mrs. Aggie, wife of G. W. Henry, severely about the head.

“Miss Katie Henry, slightly.

“G. W. Henry, Jr., slightly.

“Miss Carry Spooner, of Denison, about the head, slightly.

“Miss Augusta Stidman, deaf mute, from asylum at Austin, slightly.

“Rev. J. T. Miller, of Ennis, severely.

“Albert Billings, sleeping-car porter, slightly.

“Elder Kirk Baxter, of Dallas, about the head and chest, dangerously.

“George Mountcastle, postmaster at Allen, dangerously.

“S. C. Anderson, employee of R. V. Tompkins, Dallas, slightly.

“Conductor Lasher, rib broken and some slight bruises.

“Rev. W. L. Malloy, of Sherman, slightly.

“Some one, name unknown, from Mineola, slightly.

“KILLED.

“No one was killed but Elder Knowles Shaw, of Mississippi. Mr. Shaw arrived here on the 4^th day of May last, under an engagement of the Commerce Street Christian Church to conduct a revival, which was continued thirty-three days and nights, during which time he delivered sixty-six discourses. The result of his efforts was one hundred and eleven additional members to the church. “ From a prominent member of the Christian Church of this city, it is learned that Mr. Shaw was born in the State of Ohio, in 1834, and, at an early age, moved to Indiana. Shortly after, his father died and left him at the head of the family. At the age of seventeen years he joined the Christian Church, shortly after which he began preaching; and, if he had lived until the 1^st day of next January, he would have been preaching twenty-one years. The past fifteen years of his life have been spent as an evangelist, and in supporting and helping various churches. At the age of twenty-three years, he married a Miss Finley, of Virginia, and continued to reside in Indiana up to a short time ago, when he moved to Columbus, Mississippi. He leaves a wife and two children — a young lady about nineteen years old, and a youth about sixteen years old. He was very successful as a revivalist; and had attained some notoriety in the Northern and Western States for his success in this line, and for his compilation of Sunday-school songs.

“Mr. Shaw, at the time of the accident, was sitting in the passenger coach talking with Rev. Mr. Malloy, to whom he was introduced a short time before by Elder Baxter. Mr. Malloy says Mr. Shaw saved his (Malloy’s) life by grabbing him and pushing him away from the position in which he fell himself. Mr. Shaw’s right arm was broken in two or three places; there is a severe cut on top of his head, one on the forehead, slightly on the nose, and his lower limbs were badly mangled and his neck broken.

“Elder Baxter, when he came to the car, looked for Mr. Shaw, and found him entangled in the wreck, and partly covered with water. It took fifteen minutes to extricate his body by cutting around it with an ax. His body was taken care of by friends at McKinney, where it was washed and dressed, and laid out in a handsome coffin. It was brought to this city last evening, where it was taken to Willett & Smith’s and embalmed. It will be kept here awaiting orders from his family as to its disposition.

“He kept a register of the number of those converted under his ministrations, which, in round numbers, is over eleven thousand.

“Night before last, he preached his farewell sermon to the congregation of the Commerce Street Christian Church, of this city; and, when killed, was on his way to McKinney to hold a protracted meeting. The news of his death was a severe blow to his many friends in this city, as he was held in high esteem by all who knew him.

“The train, at the time of the accident, was on a curve, and about three hundred yards south of the bridge over the creek. The passenger coach turned over twice, and is now bottom upwards in a ditch, and a complete wreck. The sleeper turned over twice, and is lying on one side. Most of the passengers were in the coach.

“A party of thirty went to care for the wounded. Drs. Hughes, Leak, Graham, Johnson, and Allen, all of this city, did effective service in alleviating the suffering of the wounded.”

Thus perished, in the prime of life and in the midst of his usefulness, our beloved brother; and we feel quite safe in saying that no death among our brotherhood ever called forth profounder grief. He was at the time of his death within four months of forty-four years of age, with a vigorous constitution, the full and free use of all his powers, a rich experience, and, if possible, with a greater desire than ever for the salvation of his fellow-men. The funeral rites were of a peculiarly solemn character. Memorial services were held in several States. Various bodies, benevolent and religious, united in expressing their admiration of his work and worth, and sorrow for his loss. His last words:

“Oh, it is a grand thing to rally the people to the Cross of Christ,” became the motto of many a tender speech, many a touching poem, many a stirring song. A volume might be filled with the varied tributes to his memory, but want of space forbids more than an abridged account of the funeral-services, and a flower gathered here and there from the wreaths of eloquence and song which love and friendship strewed upon his grave.