The Daughters 103
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would be complete without a further look into the annals of the ten children she raised to maturity.
In the Epworth family circle life was happy, within the limits placed upon it by its insularity and its relentless poverty.
There were frictions at times, as in any family, particularly when its members are as strong-minded as were the Wesleys.
But love was always present in this rectory, and however strict the discipline, the children loved and respected their parents and one another.
The young Wesleys were brought up in a Tory and High Church atmosphere, but the Nonconformist background of their parents is also markedly evident in their rearing. The ethical impulses and the disciplined austerities of the house hold at Epworth," Dr. Green points out, "testify to a powerful
Puritan strain." ^ History has accorded a prominent place to the sons of Susanna Wesley, and her daughters, naturally, have not figured so largely. It seems strange, though, that extensive research fails to reveal even a single likeness of one of these accomplished girls. They were unusual in their own right, and their story deserves a telling.
For an understandable picture here, it is necessary to have a proper concept of the status of women in eighteenth-century
England, to leave the milieu of the twentieth century and make the mental journey into the past when the seven Wesley daughters grew up in the dismal fens of Axholme. This is more than ever essential for a proper understanding of what hap pened or did not happen to these handsome, spirited girls.
In their day, marriage was about all the future could hold for an English gentlewoman, and failing that, a position as resident governess in a well-to-do-family a doubtful career at best. Jane Eyre, though written after the Wesley era, portrays with eloquent accuracy the predicament in which highbred girls found themselves, a situation which continued until after the Victorian period.
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If the English universities had been open to women when the Wesley girls lived—a thought which would have been shocking at that time—Susanna and Samuel would never have managed to finance such schooling for seven daughters. It was hard to scrape together enough to get the boys through and, of course, their education came first. Anyhow, by eighteenthcentury standards womanly graces and household know-how were considered to be an English woman's best preparation for life in the home, where it was universally assumed she belonged.
However, there can be no doubt that the Wesley daughters received good educations a la eighteenth century in Susanna's classroom and in Samuel's study, where he instructed his daughters as well as their brothers in higher learning, that is, those of the girls who had the capacity and the desire for it.
But marriage was the great desideratum of English girls, and their parents were equally interested for several reasons.
The custom was for parents to turn their attention to making the best matches possible for their daughters. "Since alfeost everyone regarded it as a grave misfortune to remain single,'' says the historian George Trevelyan, "women did not count it a universal grievance that their hands should often be disposed of by others. ... In the upper and middle classes, husbands were often found for girls on the principle of frank barter.
'As to Clokey,' writes her father. Squire Molesworth, 'we shall not have money enough to dispose of her here. So she must be sent to Ireland to seek there a husband at a cheaper rate.' '' This quotation is all the more shocking to a modern reader when one realizes that irremediable consequences might result for such a "bartered bride," for divorce was practically unknown during this period. Indeed, in all the twelve years of Queen Anne's reign there were only six English divorces.
The prospect for happiness for Susanna's daughters was never bright. Handsome like all the Annesley women, lively and with all the natural emotions of normal young women.
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they were destined for a life of drudgery in isolated sur roundings. There must have been young men in and out of the Epworth parsonage: Emilia in a letter to her brother
Samuel refers to "our lovers." But what lovers! The rough country lads of the parish were completely unsuitable as life companions for these cultured girls. True, there were well born families in Lincolnshire, but the Wesley daughters had no proper clothes to appear in such elite society and they never had the entre there anyway. Certainly the dearth of means of travel to and from the isolated community in which they lived limited the range of their acquaintance.
Hetty expressed their plight with striking clarity in a poem written to her sister Emilia during the latter's stay in the Wroot parsonage.
Fortune has fix'd thee in a place Debarr'd of Wisdom, Wit and Grace.
High births and Virtue equally they scorn.
As asses dull, on dunghills born; Impervious as the stones, their heads are found;
Their rage and hatred steadfast as the ground.
With these unpolished wights thy youthful days Glide slow and dull, and Nature's lamp decays;
O what a lamp is hid 'midst such a sordid race.
To add to these unalterable disadvantages, their father was sadly lacking in his understanding of women, their needs or their sensibilities. Like all English fathers of the eighteenth century, he was the undisputed "Lord of the Manor" in his household. Susanna spoke of him as "my Master,''^ and the children, when writing to him, addressed him as Honored
Sir." The careers of his sons were'his daily concern, but his daughters were in a different category and always took second place. No father ever worked more indefatigably for his family's welfare than did Samuel Wesley, and he loved his daughters after his impractical fashion, but by our criteria he
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was cruel and unfeeling toward them. To be just, though, he too must be judged by the standards of his own time and not by ours.
To Samuel's credit it must be said that in his interference in the love affairs of his daughters—and he did interfere as did their brothers—he was concerned for their future and felt a responsibility in that regard. His callousness and his lack of sympathy for his girls, however, are difficult to understand.
There is a rather revealing sentence in a letter written by Samuel Wesley to General Oglethorpe the year before the rector died:
"I thank God I find I creep up hill more than I did formerly, being eased of the weight of four daughters out of seven, as I hope I shall of the fifth in a little longer." ^
Emilia, the oldest of the Wesley daughters, was the member of the family most critical of her father. She was highly dis cerning and recognized every fault he had and lashed out against him with great bitterness in her letters to her brothers.
She blamed him and his financial irresponsibility for much of the "intolerable want and affliction" of the family. Yet she was withal a dutiful daughter and there was a daughter's love in her too in the context of the "divine right of fathers," the system under which children of that period lived. It was
Emilia who came home during her father's last illness and with John and Charles nursed him to the end.
Emilia can certainly be called one of the leading characters in the Epworth drama. She was good-looking and smart, with a measure of tartness thrown in; she had plenty of common sense like her mother and a talent for poetry. As a classical scholar she was a credit to her father's teaching. Her brother
John said of her that she was the best reader of Milton he had ever heard.
Emilia was the family standby in many difficult situations.
She was a mere girl when she assumed the care of her mother and baby Kezzy following the disastrous fire. It was Emilia
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who left her position as governess to nurse her sister Susanna Ellison through a dangerous illness, and on occasions when her mother was confined to bed, she frequently took over the management of the household with very little money at her disposal.
During a visit to her uncle Matthew Wesley in London, she met a friend and fellow Oxford student of John Wesley's named Leybourne, with whom she fell madly in love. The romance lasted three years but was broken up by a "near relation," generally conceded to be Samuel, Jr. She later came to realize that Leybourne was not really in love with her and would never have made her happy, but the hurt lasted for a long time.
Emilia early realized that she must provide for herself. She was twice a governess at Lincoln, the second time at Mrs.
Taylor's boarding school. Here she had the entire supervision of the school, with long hours and poor pay. Later, with a little help from John, she set up her own school in Gainsborough where apparently she was successful.
When she was in her early forties she had another love affair, this time with a doctor who proved, in her words, "a faithful friend, a delightful companion and a passionate lover."
This romance was ended also, partly because John objected to his being a Quaker, and partly because Emilia herself could not tolerate his intense jealousy and his Whig sympathies. So she continued her teaching at Gainsborough.
When nearly forty-four years old, and just before her brother John left for his mission to Georgia in America,
Emilia married an unlicensed apothecary of Epworth named Robert Harper, long acquainted with the family. John himself performed the ceremony. Harper was never a financial success and unfortunately managed to appropriate most of his wife's earnings. He too was a 'Violent Whig," she an "unbending
Tory." She is known to have had one child named Tetty. How long this child lived is not known. Her marriage with Mr.
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Harper was short-lived, for he absconded after several years with all of Emilia's savings, leaving her with a sickly infant to nurse and bury.® About five years after her father's death Emilia .went to London to live with John. There her brothers took care of her for many years. Her body outlived her memory which had always been prodigious. She died at the age of seventy-nine.
'Susanna, the second of the surviving daughters, like Emilia was born at South Ormsby. She, too, was considered beauti ful, with a good mind well trained, and a happy nature.
During her stay in London after the fire, when she divided her time between her uncles Matthew Wesley and Samuel Annesley, the latter promised to make ample provision for her.
When this offer failed to materialize, while she was visiting at Matthew Wesley's home she made a hasty and regrettable marriage without consultation with her parents. The bride groom was Richard Ellison, a well-to-do gentleman farmer.
Although he was from a very fine family he was the very antithesis of young Susanna in his coarseness, vulgarity, and immorality, and in his dictatorial ways. His treatment of his wife was degrading in the extreme and was a constant source of anxiety and mortification to Susanna and Samuel. Samuel called Dick Ellison the "wen of our family''; Susanna was even more severe in her denunciation of her son-in-law, referring to him as "little inferior to the apostate angels in wickedness."
There were four surviving children born of this marriage.
A fire later demolished the Ellison home. The family narrowly escaped with their lives, and all of them had to scatter among relatives. After this fire, Susanna Ellison never lived with her husband again, and in order to escape him she hid among her children in London. Ellison made many attempts to win her back but to no avail. On one occasion he had a notice inserted in the newspapers announcing his death, hoping by this means
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to entice her back to Lincolnshire. She did make the journey there to pay her last respects to the one who had been her husband, only to find him still alive and in good health. She immediately returned to London and nothing could induce her to live with Ellison again.
John, the untiring benefactor of his family, helped her.
Indeed, through the years he assisted some of the Ellisons to the third generation.
Richard Ellison gradually lost all his property, went to London, and appealed for help to John Wesley, of all people.
John interceded in his behalf with a banker to allow him to benefit from certain charity funds. Mr. Ellison remained in London, but was never able to find Susanna, his wife, and their children, so carefully did they hide themselves from him.
Charles Wesley conducted his funeral service and reported that he died in peace. To his wife Sarah, Charles writes: "Sister
Macdonald, whom he [Ellison] was always very fond of, prayed with him in his last moments. He told her he was not afraid to die, and believed that God, for Christ s sake, had forgiven him."
The concerned involvement of John and Charles Wesley in the lamentable affairs of the Ellisons is but another example of the family solidarity implicit in the Wesley connection, even toward those who fell far below its standards.
Susanna Wesley Ellison died in December 1764 at the age of sixty-nine.
Mary Wesley, often called Molly, was a baby when Susanna and Samuel moved to Epworth. Her deformed body, often the subject of ridicule by thoughtless passersby, never affected the loveliness of her almost saintly character. Her beautiful face, her gentleness and even temper made her a favorite with all. She was the stay-at-home of the family because of her affliction and accepted the drudgery of the daily round with a sweet spirit. "Patient Grizzle," her brother Charles called her.
There was a particularly close bond of affection between
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Molly Wesley and her sister Hetty. At the time of Hetty's great trouble, Molly showed that she had strength as well as gentleness when she stood against the whole family in protest against forcing Hetty into her disastrous marriage.
Mary Wesley never expected romance in her life, but at the age of thirty-eight she found supreme happiness in the ungainly person of John Whitelamb who loved her devotedly in return. The year of married life they had together, doing the work they both loved in the uninviting parish of Wroot, gave to Molly Wesley the joy she so richly deserved. Hetty's poem in the Gentleman's Magazine for December, 1736, was a fitting expression of the family's grief in the passing of this lovely character.
Mehetabel, better known as Hetty, was next in the Wesley chronology. Her unique story deserves—^and will be treated in—2l separate chapter.
Anne, or Nancy, follows Hetty in the family line. The records furnish almost nothing about her except that she had the distinction of having made a happy marriage. Her husband,
John Lambert, was a land surveyor in Epworth. He was apparently a well-educated man. It was he who carefully collected and preserved some of Samuel Wesley's early publica tions. He had a weakness for drink, a habit which was not helped by his association with Hetty's dissipated husband; but this was not serious enough to interfere with his and Nancy's happiness. After some years in Epworth, she and her husband moved to Hatfield, Hertfordshire. Their home was always open to Nancy's brothers John and Charles, and their visits proved a happy respite in their demanding schedule of itinerant preaching.
Martha, usually called Patty, was about four years younger than her brother John. She was strikingly like him in appear ance. Their dispositions, too, were quite similar, and even their handwriting was almost identical. Martha was one of the most affectionate of all the Wesley children. She always moved
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with the greatest deliberation and was possessed of a com posure that nothing could disturb. Martha was lacking in the ready wit of her brothers and sisters but was from childhood serious and thoughtful. Susanna was well aware of her solemn nature, as is illustrated by an incident related by Adam Clarke:
"One day, entering the nursery when all the children, Patty excepted (who was ever sedate and reflecting), were in high glee and frolic, the mother said, but not rebukingly, 'You will all be more serious one day.' Martha . . . immediately said,
'Shall I be more serious. Mam?' 'NO,' replied the mother."* There was a mutual attachment through their entire lives between Martha and her brother John whom she so closely resembled. He alone of all the children never joined in their tricks to try to ruffle Patty.
Her mother was Martha's idol and constant companion while the other children were at play. She sat at Susanna's feet by the hour, eager to learn from her everything possible.
Martha was avid for knowledge and she was wise enough to realize that Susanna's conversation could vastly enrich her mind.
Martha was involved in various love affairs in her youth.
One of them was with John Romley, the schoolmaster who also served for a time as curate to Samuel Wesley and as his amanuensis for the book on Job. Romley had previously been in love with Hetty, it should be added. It was lucky for Martha that this romance did not ripen into marriage, for Romley developed into a heavy drinker and came to a tragic end.
Martha served for a time as a sort of companion in the same family at Kelstein where Hetty was then employed.
Martha was not a success in this capacity, however, and soon returned home. She made several visits to her uncle Matthew
Wesley in London, and at his invitation she went to live with him and was a member of his household for a number of years.
Here she was given all the material comforts so sadly lacking
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in the Epworth parsonage, but her uncle was by no means a religious man, and she missed the spiritual atmosphere of her own home. She sometimes visited her brother Samuel at Westminster, but her plain ways did not suit Samuel's wife, and so she made her visits less frequent.
There were several other young men, two of whom were friends of John Wesley, who paid court to Martha. While living in the home of her uncle Matthew, she met Westley
Hall who had attended Oxford with her brothers John and Charles. He was a clergyman and supposedly of fine character and great promise. They became secretly engaged.
Meanwhile Mr. Hall was invited by John Wesley to accom pany him to Epworth for a visit. While there Hall became enamored of Kezzy, the youngest of the Wesley daughters, the Epworth family all the while being entirely ignorant of his ties with Martha. Then he returned to London, and renewed his attentions to Martha. Early in 1735, they were married.
Certainly they had Dr. Matthew Wesley's consent, for he gave Martha a handsome wedding present and made provision for her in his will. On the strength of Dr. Matthew Wesley's sanction, Susanna gave them her blessing also.
For several years all went well. Martha bore ten children to Mr. Hall, only one of whom survived infancy. Gradually her husband's true nature began to assert itself. He embraced first one faith and then another and was guilty of unfaithful ness to his wife. He had intimate relations with a seamstress who lived in the house as an employee of Martha's. The latter was entirely unsuspecting of the true state of affairs until the seamstress began to have labor pains and the servants apprised her of the true state of things. Mr. Hall immediately left home.
Martha made provision for the accouchement, then set out in search of her erring husband. She forgave him and per suaded him to return home.
Mr. Hall was so brutal to his only child that John and
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Charles Wesley arranged to have the boy cared for away from home and assumed the expense of this care. The lad, who had great promise, died of smallpox at the age of fourteen.
Westley Hall not only spoke in favor of polygamy, he en gaged in it himself and went off to the West Indies with a mistress, remaining there with her until her death.
After Martha's desertion by her husband she moved to London, and though she had a little property of her own, she was almost entirely dependent upon the kindness of her brothers. With all her trouble, she was never known to speak unkindly of her husband nor to bewail her fate. The wonder is that she could maintain her almost superhuman composure in the face of such dire tragedy. Perhaps her disposition was more phlegmatic than that of most people and her faith so firmly based that nothing could affect it. However that may be, she entered wholeheartedly into the work of the Methodist
Societies in London and also took her place among the intellec tuals of that city.
Because of her complete unselfishness and her amiable dis position she was much beloved by children. She had an enjoy able social life in London. After her brother Charles and his family moved to London she was often in their company, and their daughter Sarah was a great favorite with Martha. Dr.
Samuel Johnson thought very highly of Martha and found her conversation informative and most stimulating. Indeed, he invited her to become a member of his household, along with several other friends. This she would not do but was often a guest at his table, discussing a wide variety of subjects, theology in particular.
Martha outlived all the rest of her large family, surviving her brother John by four months. When he died something went out of her, as if there were no longer anything to live for. Her niece, Sarah Wesley, who was with her when she died, had asked if she might be at her aunt's bedside in her last moments. Martha lived up to her true character in
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replying: "Yes, if you are able to bear it: but I charge you not to grieve more than half an hour."
In his will John Wesley left Mrs. Hall forty pounds to be paid out of the proceeds of the sale of his books after his death—the only property he had. She never lived to receive it. She bequeathed what little property she had to her beloved' niece.
Quite fittingly, Martha Hall was interred in the same vault with her brother John in the burial ground behind John's
City Road Chapel. Close they were in life, and in death they were not divided.
Kezziah Wesley, the only Wesley daughter who never married, was no less pathetic a figure than most of her sisters.
From her birth soon after the fire until her death thirty-two years later she was never robust in health. Her great ambition always was to have a well cultivated mind, but repeated illness seems to have prevented the application to her studies that would have made this ambition possible. No historians men tion her good looks, as they do with most of her sisters, and in a letter to her brother John, written in 1729, she shows her awareness of her lack in this regard.
Kezzey—the name by which she was affectionately called —at the age of eighteen, when Emilia was head teacher at a boarding school in Lincoln, secured a position there as part assistant and part pupil. She was given board and instruction as remuneration for her services, but she had no money for the clothes she needed to maintain her status and consequently went home. She was of a shy disposition and was frustrated by the hopeless poverty of her situation. Early she came to the belief that her life was to be a short one, and in her constant struggle to become resigned to her lot she often said that a life of celibacy was most fitting for her.
In the matter of Westley Hall's duplicity in his love affairs with Martha and Kezzy, neither of these sisters was at fault.
It is difficult to understand how he could have proposed
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marriage to both without either sister having knowledge of his courtship of the other, but we must remember that com munications in that day were very slow. The wonder is that Susanna should have been willing for either daughter to marry a man who was guilty of such a performance, and also that Martha should not have realized that happiness would be im possible with a man so fickle in his affections. Kezzy forgave him and the inference is that her love for him did not continue, since she lived with the Halls in their parsonage for several years.
When Samuel Wesley died and Epworth could no longer be the home of the family, Kezzy went to live with her brother
Samuel. Later John Wesley made it possible for her to be a boarding guest in the home of Henry Piers, the Vicar of Bexley, and formerly a member of the Holy Club. She was happy there and John and Charles kept in as close touch with her as their arduous duties would permit. From historically accurate sources we learn that in her later years Kezzy was engaged to a gentleman with whom she was genuinely in love, but her death prevented their marriage. She died March 10,
1741, and her brother Charles was with her in her final hours.
There was always a particularly close bond between Kezzy and her brother, Charles, similar to that between John and Patty. Charles was two years older than Kezzy, and he was especially protective of her in all her difficult experiences. In return, when Charles became dangerously ill in 1738, Kezzy left Bexley to nurse him. Her care of this beloved brother was evidently quite taxing for her frail constitution, for she herself fell ill immediately after his recovery.
The stories of most of the Wesley girls belong in the category of tragedy, some of it avoidable, some not. To attempt an analysis of the reasons behind the disasters of each would serve no purpose. Susanna suffered vicariously in the trials of them all; in some instances she was brought to her sickbed because of them.
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The Wesley daughters never showed any jealousy of their brothers' superior advantages but took great pride in all their achievements. If at times the girls were more demanding of their brothers' time than they should have been, this must be attributed to the fact that their own lives were lived in in extremely narrow orbit.
It was strikingly evident in the later years of these children of Susanna that the love which characterized the family circle in the Epworth parsonage through all the vicissitudes of their sojourn there persisted long after Epworth ceased to be their home, indeed, as long as they all lived. No computer, however intricate, could figure out how the sons of that family were able to care for the varied needs of their sisters through the long years, but care for them they did, and for their children and their children's children when the need arose.
HETTY Ordinarily, in a family of seven daughters conspicuous for good looks, intelligence, and sprightliness, it would not be possible to single out any one to take precedence over her sisters. But in the case of the Wesley household even the most reluctant historian would have to hand the palm to Mehetabel, the fourth girl and first child to be born to Susanna after she and Samuel arrived at Epworth.
Hetty, as she was familiarly called, was lavishly endowed with gifts and graceg. She was beautiful in face and form, her
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mind was keen and facile. To add to these qualities, she was from childhood gay and good-humored, with a ready wit that made her attractive to young and old.
"Her fancy wit and genius often outran her judgment, and caused he® parents both anxiety and trouble," ^ for her antics sometimes ran counter to the strict rules by which the Epworth parsonage operated. One might almost say it was a pity she was born to live in the eighteenth century when women were suppressed and supposed to be devoid of the individuality and means of self-expression which they now enjoy. Hetty Wesley did not easily fit into the mold proper for young ladies of^her day.
The rector early recognized the unusual mental powers of his beautiful daughter and gave her the benefit of his best teaching. He was proud of her and her ability, at the tender age of eight, to read the Greek New Testament. She in turn delighted in serving as her father's amanuensis, and there was great intellectual congeniality between them.
As may well be imagined, Hetty's beauty and attractiveness won for her numerous beaus. Some of them were gay, frivolous young men who liked Hetty more for her good looks and her wit than for her more substantial qualities. Some of them she found unsuitable for life companionship; with others she was peremptorily forbidden to associate by parental edict. Hetty alluded to this frustrating state of affairs in some lines she sent to her mother:
Pray speak a word in time of need.
And with my sour-looked father plead For your distressed daughter.
John Romley, former amanuensis and for a short time curate to the rector, in addition to his duties as a schoolmaster, was a suitor of Hetty's, but she was never deeply interested in him.
However, her father took a hand in this affair also. He was
HETTY
convinced—and had reason to be—^that Romley was not a suitable lover for Hetty. In his forthright fashion he broke up their correspondence and packed her off to Kelstein near
Louth. There she served as governess to two small children in a home of wealth and comfort and was treated with the utmost kindness by her employers, Mr. and Mrs. Grantham.
It was at Kelstein that she met a young lawyer rated as "clever in his profession" and of "respectable family.""^ She fell madly in love with him. He dutifully asked the rector for Hetty's hand in marriage. But her father, after investigating into the young man's history, dubbed him an "unprincipled lawyer," refused his consent, and forbade Hetty to see him again. By this time Hetty had reached the age of twenty-seven and felt herself old enough to make her own decisions. Her father seemed to be always interfering in her love affairs, and this time she refused to give up her lover. After all she was now a mature woman earning her own living. And then since parental consent had been with finality withheld, her lover persuaded Hetty to elope with him, having given her every assurance that they were running away to be married. She spent one fateful night with him, but next morning, when the marriage was to take place, the bridegroom-to-be, living up to the reputation about which her father had warned, would not —certainly did not—go through with the ceremony. Hetty, a sadder and a wiser girl, had no alternative but to return home to Wroot to face the wrath of her scandalized parents. From then on until the last day of her life, dire and relentless tragedy was to be the fate of Hetty Wesley.
And who was the man with whom she ran away? Dr. V. H.
Green in his The Young Mr. Wesley says his name was Will Attkins.® Though this name occurs several times in the annals of the Wesleys, there is not sufficient proof to establish the fact that Will Attkins was Hetty's lover. Some say that Hetty herself consistently refused to name the man who betrayed her.
One may picture the scene when Hetty reached home and
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met her father. The strict code of an eighteenth-century divine, coupled with a Puritanical upbringing and his lack of under standing and sympathy where his girls were concerned, added up to an utter repudiation of Hetty and what she had done.
Samuel would have ordered her from the house immediately but for Susanna's entreaties. There was also hurt pride with father Samuel. Such wantonness was a stain upon the spotless name of all the Annesleys and all the Wesleys, not to mention the reputation of Samuel himself as a highly respected clergy man of the Church of England. Besides, Hetty, who of all his daughters had shown the greatest literary promise, had defied his orders.
Any slightest regard for Hetty and the agony she was experiencing was completely lacking in Samuel. She had com mitted the unpardonable sin and had thereby placed herself beyond the bounds of parental love and solicitude.
It is no wonder then that Hetty, completely rejected and seeing no hope of even a tolerable existence at home, rashly vowed to marry the first man who asked her. Mary Wesley, her crippled sister, was the only member of the family who openly stood up to her father for Hetty's sake, and with sisterly concern she pleaded with Hetty not to go through with her awful vow. The rest of the family took no strong stand against Samuel in the matter. They felt, including Susanna, that Hetty was not truly repentant for what she had done, and by their lack of aggressiveness in her behalf acquiesced in Samuel's unforgiving attitude.
After all, he was an eighteenth-century pater familias, su preme in his command of his household. Susanna did remon strate with him and wrote to her son John for advice on this problem.* John tried repeatedly to mollify his father, but it would have been earthshaking indeed to break into this un compromising pattern of fatherly overlordship.
So Hetty kept her vow, in fact, she was forced to keep it by her father and mother acting together, and married William
HETTY
Wright of Louth, an ilhcerate plumber who traveled through the country with his tools on his back, plying his trade.
There is a story to the effect that early in Hetty's acquaint ance with Mr. Wright she realized that they were completely unsuited to each other and tried to back out of marrying him, but her father compelled her to go through with it.
Careful research reveals no record in this instance of Sam uel's customary investigation into the credentials of his daugh ters' suitors. He was glad to get this sinful daughter off his hands and good riddance.
John Kirk says that Hetty left home after her father re pudiated her, but no historians of the Wesley family give any account of where Hetty lived in the interval before she married
Wright, whether perhaps she returned to her governess posi tion with the ' Granthams, or whether she was allowed to remain at home. In the latter case it is reasonably certain that she did not come in contact with her father, for he never became truly reconciled to her. Her marriage to William
Wright took place later in the year 1725.
Those who have followed closely the heartbreaking story of Hetty Wesley have always had good reason to suspect that she became pregnant as the result of the one unfortunate night with her lover, and that she gave birth to his baby. None of the historians of the Wesleys state this as a fact, even though they may have known it to be true—doubtless due to the prevalent reticence of that period regarding such delicate sub jects, and also the desire to spare the famous Wesley family from any blot on its otherwise stainless scutcheon. However, they hint at it.
The Reverend John Kirk in The Mother of the Wesleys, referring to Hetty, observes cryptically: "It is in the power of our hand to lift the vail; but this allusion, which historic fidelity demanded, must suffice." ® The "allusion" Kirk re ferred to is a quotation from a letter of Samuel Wesley to his brother Matthew Wesley, written in the third person shortly
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before Samuel's death; "If God has blessed him [meaning Samuel] with a numerous offspring, he has no reason to be ashamed of them, and if he had but that single one, it might have proved no support to his name or family."
Another reliable source, Eliza Clarke, writes in her book Siisanna Wesley: "Hetty, who was a pretty, clever, sprightly girl, went wrong altogether, and was treated by both her parents with the harshness of rigid virtue that has never known temptation. They utterly refused to see or forgive her; and had not her brothers and uncle pitied and made allowances for her, her fate would have been even worse than it was." ?
Furthermore, it may be asked, if pregnancy had not been involved in Hetty's tragic mistake, why would she have been so desperate as to make a marriage which, to a person of her keen intellect and fine sensibilities, could not be anything but utterly abhorrent? Even if her family had not been willing to welcome her back into the fold, certainly she knew that she could have maintained herself as a governess had there not been pregnancy as a complication. Surely, too, her uncle
Matthew's home would have been open to her.
But if she were pregnant, her situation would, of course, be desperate indeed. In her day there were no havens for unwed mothers, nor adoption agencies where children bom under such unhappy circumstances could be placed. The Wes ley brothers, though they remonstrated with their father and sympathized with their "erring sister," as she was called, never dreamed of taking the decision regarding her out of their father's hands. Such defiance of a father's authority over his household would have been completely unthought of in the seventeen hundreds.
But in more recent days. Dr. Frank Baker, perhaps the greatest of the Wesleyan researchers, has established beyond question the truth about the paternity of Hetty's first child, that the "unprincipled lawyer" was indeed the father of this baby.
HETTY
Dr. Baker has found a record in the manuscript Parish Register of the church at Haxey, a town not far from Epworth, of the marriage of Hetty Wesley to William Wright of Louth on October 13, 1725. Furthermore, the parish register at Louth records the baptism, on February 18, 1726, of "Mehetabell d. of William Wrightt." This same child was buried
December 27, 1726, at Louth.
To complete this part of the story, it should be stated that everything points to the fact that Hetty's elopement took place early in May, 1725. George Stevenson says that she became acquainted with her lover early in 1725. John Kirk states that this young man asked Mr. Wesley for Hetty's hand in marriage in April, 1725.
When in May, 1725, Samuel Wesley, Jr. with his wife and child came to Wroot to see his parents, the visit was partly social, of course, but was partly for the purpose of straighten ing out with his father financial matters relating to the loans he had made to the rector for the education of John and Charles. Several authorities believe that another of his reasons for coming was to soften the rector's heart toward Hetty—a likely supposition since Samuel, Jr. involved himself in all the many crises of his family. That he was with his parents as early as May 10, 1725, is established by a letter written by Samuel, Sr. to his son John and dated May 10, 1725, which states: "Your brother Samuel, with his wife and child, are here".
Be that as it may. Dr. Baker's findings make all the facts regarding Hetty's indiscretion fall into place—her calamitous marriage in October to legitimise a baby she was expecting in less than four months, and the adamant attitude^ which her father maintained toward her to his dying day, adhering to a rigid, code that had no place for the quality of mercy, even toward his favorite daughter.
For a time things went fairly well with Hetty and her husband. They lived at Louth where William Wright was
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
connected with his father's plumbing business. It would be difficult to imagine a more pitiable adjustment than Hetty's to life with a man like William Wright. But from the very beginning of her marriage she determined to make him happy at whatever cost to herself. She had made a tragic mistake which nothing could undo. She would atone for it the rest of her life by being a dutiful and affectionate wife, in spite of the disparity of their tastes and background. This she did. She could have no romantic love for her husband, but she liked him and meticulously looked after his interests.
There were times when Hetty's desire to see her family was overwhelming. After all, she had never before been separated from them, except for her short period of employ ment with the Granthams, and her stay with her uncle Matthew
Wesley following the fire. A few days with her mother and Mary she felt she must have, and she desperately longed for her father's forgiveness that she might be back on the old familiar footing with him. Accordingly, she made the short journey to Wroot but returned to her own home more broken hearted than before. Her sister Mary reports on her visit in a letter to Charles Wesley at Oxford:
"My unhappy sister was at Wroot the week after you left us, where she stayed two or three days, and returned to Louth without seeing my father. I must stop for when I think of her misfortunes, I may say with Edgar, 'O fortune . . .' "
Not long after her visit Hetty gave birth to her second child, a son, but it lived only a few days.
During the summer of 1726, John was at home assisting his father. Repeatedly he argued with Samuel about his treat ment of Hetty but to no avail. On August 28 of that summer, after due consideration, he preached a sermon at Wroot on the topic: "Universal Charity,'' or "Charity Due to Wicked
Persons.'' The sermon was aimed directly at his father who with Susanna quickly recognized the fact. Samuel was greatly hurt and discussed the matter with Charles.
HETTY
"Every day," said Samuel, "you hear how he [John] con tradicts me and takes your sister's part before my face, nay he disputes with me*..."
Charles retailed this conversation to John, and the latter and his father became reconciled with tears and with the promise on John's part that he would help his father with the ever-present Dissertations on the Book of Job.
Samuel's attitude toward poor Hetty was little changed as a result of the sermon. In a letter to Samuel, Jr., written
August 29, 1726, John says:
"My sister Hetty's behaviour has, for aught I have heard, been innocent enough since her marriage; most of my disputes on charity with my father were on her account, he being in conceivably exasperated against her. 'Tis likely enough he would not see her (Hetty) when at Wroot; he has disowned her long ago. He never spoke of her in my hearing but with the utmost detestation; both he and my mother and several of my sisters were persuaded her penitence was all feigned.
One great reason for my writing the above-mentioned sermon was to endeavour as far as in me lay, to convince them that even on the supposition that she was impenitent, some tender ness was due to her still which my mother, when I read it to her, was so well aware of that she told me as soon as I had read it, 'You writ this sermon for Hetty. ...' "
An unpublished letter from Martha Wesley to her brother John, dated February 7, 1727, reports that her father had been to see Hetty "who by good providence was brought to bed two days before he got thither, which perhaps might prevent his saying what he otherwise might have said to her; for none that deserves the name of a man would say anything to grieve a woman in a condition where grief is often present death to them... . Sister Hetty's child is dead."
By this time things were not going well with Hetty's marriage in spite of her desperate efforts to please her hus-
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
band. Uncle Matthew Wesley gave her five hundred pounds as a sort of wedding gift, and with this sum William Wright was able to set up his own business as plumber and glazier in London. There Hetty and William established themselves at Mr. Wakenden's in Crown Court, Dean's Street, near Soho,
William's shop being on the same premises. Charles Wesley in a letter to John, dated January 1, 1728, reports having visited them there recently for the first time.
Hetty entertained a forlorn hope that this improvement in her husband's business would make for their greater happiness, but such was not to be. William Wright loved Hetty after his fashion, but he was a weak character and what started out to be moderate tippling became a confirmed habit. Perhaps a contributing factor to his drinking lay in a realization of the irremediable difference between Hetty's station in life and his own, despite her efforts to please him. At any rate, he spent more and more evenings in taverns with unsavory com panions. Her days were filled with worry over her husband's debts and the loss of business which his increased drinking had brought about, and night after night she lay awake, won dering in what condition he would return to her. There were times in his drunken state that he was a veritable beast, even to the point of striking her.
Hetty expressed herself in some tragic lines which, though not outstanding as poetry, reveal dramatically the agony through which she was passing:
The ardent lover cannot find A coldness in his fair unkind, But blaming what he cannot hate.
He mildly chides the dear ingrate.
And though despairing of relief.
In soft complaining vents his g^ief.
Then what should hinder but that I,
Impatient of my wrongs, may try.
By saddest softest strains, to move My wedded, latest, dearest love.
To throw his cold neglect aside.
And cheer once more his injured bride?
O thou, whom sacred rites designed My guide, and husband ever kind.
My sovereign master, best of friends.
On whom my earthly bliss depends; If e'er thou didst in Hetty see Aught fair, or good, or dear to thee.
If gentle speech can ever move The cold remains of former love.
Turn thee at last—^my bosom ease.
Or tell me why I cease to please.
Is it because revolving years.
Heart-breaking sighs, and fruitless tears.
Have quite deprived this form of mine Of all that once thou fanciedst fine ?
Ah no! what once allured thy sight Is still in its meridian height.
These eyes their usual lustre show When uneclipsed by flowing woe.
Old age and wrinkles in this face As yet could never find a place:
A youthful grace informs these lines.
Where still the purple current shines.
Unless, by thy ungentle art.
It flies to aid my wretched heart:
Nor does this slighted bosom show The thousand hours it spends in woe.
Or is it that, oppressed with care, I stun with loud complaints thine ear; And make thy home, for quiet meant The seat of noise and discontent ?
Ah no! those ears were ever free From matrimonial melody:
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
For though thine absence I lament When half the lonely night is spent.
Yet when the watch or early mom Has brought me hopes of thy return, I oft have wiped these watchful eyes.
Concealed my cares, and curbed my sighs.
In spite of grief, to let thee see I wore an endless smile for thee.
Had I not practised every art T'oblige, divert, and cheer thy heart.
To make me pleasing in thine eyes.
And turn thy house to paradise; I had not asked, "Why dost thou shun These faithful arms, and eager run To some obscure, unclean retreat.
With fiends incarnate glad to meet, The vile companions of thy mirth.
The scum and refuse of the earth; Who, when inspired by beer, can grin At witless oaths and jests obscene, Till the most learned of the throng Begins a tale of ten hours long; While thou, in raptures, with stretched jaws
Crownest each joke with loud applause?"
Deprived of freedom, health, and ease.
And rivalled by such things as these; This latest effort will I try.
Or to regain thy heart, or die.
Soft as I am. I'll make thee see I will not brook contempt from thee!
Then quit the shuffling doubtful sense, Nor hold me longer in suspense; Unkind, ungrateful, as thou art.
Say, must I ne'er regain thy heart ?
Must all attempts to please thee prove Unable to'hegain thy love?
If so, by truth itself I swear.
HETTY
The sad reverse I cannot bear:
No rest, no pleasure, will I see; My whole of bliss is lost with thee!
I'll give all thoughts of patience o'er; (A gift I never lost before) ; Indulge at once my rage and grief, Mourn obstinate, disdain relief.
And call that wretch my mortal foe.
Who tries to mitigate my woe; Till life, on terms severe as these.
Shall, ebbing, leave my heart at ease; To thee thy liberty restore To laugh when Hetty is no more."^ The last lingering hope Hetty had^or binding her husband to her was through their children, but one after another of her babies died before they could even register their personality.
She was of the firm opinion that the loss of her babies was caused by the lead fumes issuing from her husband s shop. Her third child was born September 25, 1728, and died three days afterward. William Wright reports the sad news to John
Wesley at Oxford where the latter was then a Fellow; "This comes to Let you know that my wife is brought to bed and is in a hopeful way of Doing well but the Dear child died the Third day after it was born—which has been of great conceme to me and my wife She joyns With me In Love to your Selfe and Bro: Charles From Your Loveing Bro: to Comnd—Wm Wright.
P.S. Ive sen you Sum Verses that my wife maid of Dear Lamb Let me hear from one or both of yoy as Soon as you think
Conveniant."
The verses which were dictated to her husband were com posed during Hetty's confinement. The orthography has been corrected.
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
A Mother's Address to Her Dying Infant (by Mrs. Wright) Tender softness! infant mild!
Perfect, sweetest, loveliest child!
Transient lustre! beauteous clay!
Smiling wonder of a day!
Ere the last convulsive start Rends thy unresisting heart; Ere the long-enduring swoon Weigh thy precious eyelids down; Ah, regard a mother's moan, Anguish deeper than thy own.
Fairest eyes, whose dawning light Late with rapture blest my sight.
Ere your orbs extinguished be.
Bend their trembling beams on me 1 Drooping sweetness 1 verdant flower!
Blooming, withering in an hour!
Ere thy gentle breast sustains Latest, fiercest, mortal pains, Hear a suppliant I let me be Partner in thy destiny!
This poem was printed long afterward by John in the Arminian Magazine?
By the time Hetty had lost her fourth child in infancy she had reached a point of utter despair. She had tried by every means in her power to make herself attractive to her husband and win him from his evil ways. Now it appeared that there would never be any children to make their appeal to his fatherly instincts. Increasingly she felt that she must be under God's curse and that nothing she might do to redeem the past would avail with Him. There was always with her the old regard for her father's opinion and a longing for his forgiveness which had never yet been granted her. In this spirit she wrote to
HETTY Samuel Wesley, and the following letters set forth the shocking interchange between them:
From Hetty to Her Father (undated) Honoured Sir, although you have cast me off, and I know that a determination once taken by you is not easily moved, I must tell you that some word of your forgiving is not only necessary to me, but would make happier the marriage in which, as you compelled it you must still (I think) feel no small concern. My child, on whose frail help I had counted to make our life more supportable to my husband and myself, is dead. Should God give and take away another, I can never escape the thought that ® intercession might have prevailed against His wrath, which I shall then, alas! take to be manifest. , , . /
Forgive me, sir, that I make you a party m such happiness (or unhappiness) as the world generally allows to be, under God, a portion for two. But as you planted my matrimonial bliss, so you cannot run away from my prayer when I beseech you to water it with a little kindness. My brothers will report to you what they have seen of my way of life and my daily struggle to redeem the past But I have come to a point where I feel your forgiveness to be necessary to me. I beseech you, then, not to withhold it
Mehet. Wright 9 The Answer (undated) Dauehter—If you would persuade me that your penitence is more to feigned, you are going the wrong way to work. I decline to be made a party to your matrimonial fortunes, as you claim m what appears to be intended for the flower of your letter; and in your next, if you would please me, I advise you to display less w.t and more evidence of honest self-examination. To that—which is the beginning of repentanc^you do not appear to have attained.
Yet it would teach you that your troubles, if you have any, flow from your own sin, and that for any inconveniences you may find in marriage you are probably as much to blame (at the very least) as your honest husband. Your brothers speak well of him, and I
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
shall always think myself obliged to him for his civilities to you.
But what are your troubles? You do not name them. What hurt has matrimony done you? I know only that it has given you a good name [italics mine]. I do not remember that you were used to have so frightful an idea of it as you have now. Pray be more explicit. Restrain your wit if you wish to write again, and I will answer your next if I like it.
Your father, S. Wesleyio And this was the man who wrote a Lije of Our Lord Jesus
Christ—wrote it in verse and with scholarly precision too! But how he missed the tender spirit of forgiveness that shone through every facet of the Master's life! For Samuel Wesley reflected not one iota of such compassion in his treatment of his own daughter in her hour of greatest need.
Hetty's reply to her father, dated London, July 3, 1729:
Honoured Sir—^Though I was glad, on any terms, of the favour of a line from you, yet I was concerned at your displeasure on account of the unfortunate paragraph which you are pleased to say was meant for the flower of my letter. ... I wish it had not gone, since
I perceive it gave you some uneasiness.
But since what I said occasioned some queries, which I should be glad to speak freely about, ... I earnestly beg that the little I shall say may not be offensive to you, since I promise to be as little witty as possible, though I can't help saying you only accuse me of being too much so; especially these late years past I have been pretty free from that scandal.
You ask me what hurt matrimony has done me, and whether I had always so frightful an idea of it as I have now. Home questions indeed! and I once more beg of you not to be offended at the least
I can say to them, if I say nothing.
I had not always such notions of wedlock as now, but thought that where there was a mutual affection and desire of pleasing, i something near an equality of mind and person, either earthly or
HETTY
heavenly wisdom, and anything to keep love warm between a young couple, there was a possibility of happiness in a married state; but when all, or most of these, were wanting, I ever thought people could not marry without sinning against God and them selves. ...
You are so good to my spouse and me as to say you shall always think yourself obliged to him for his civilities to me. I hope he will always continue to use me better than I merit from him in one respect.
/ think exactly the same of my marriage as I did before it happened [italics mine] ; but though I would have given at least one of my eyes for the liberty of throwing myself at your feet before I was married at all, yet since it is past, and matrimonial grievances are usually irreparable, I hope you will condescend to be so far of my opinion as to own that, since upon some accounts
I am happier than I deserve, it is best to say little of things quite past remedy, and endeavour, as I really do, to make myself more and more contented, though things may not be to my wish. . . .
Though I cannot justify my late indiscreet letter,. . . yet I need not remind you that I am not more than human, and if the calamities of life . . . sometimes wring a complaint from me, I need tell no one that though I bear I must feel them. And if you cannot forgive what I have said, I sincerely promise never more to offend you by saying too much; which (with begging your blessing) is all from your most obedient daughter,
Mehetabel Wright Samuel Wesley's answer to Hetty's second letter, if there was one, has been lost. It was quite clear, however, that there was little hope that father Samuel would ever change his rigid attitude toward her. Cut off then irrevocably from her child hood home and the loved ones there, she would have been entirely alone in her grief had it not been for other members of the family who tried in every way they knew to soften her tragic lot. Her brother Samuel helped her as far as his meager means would allow, and she visited in his home at Westmin ster, being careful always not to antagonize Mrs. Samuel Wes-
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
ley, Jr., whose tart tongue had upon several occasions lashed out against some member of her husband's family. Charles went to see Hetty often at her lodgings in Soho, and also
John whenever he had opportunity.
It is good to know that her uncle Matthew Wesley took her with him to Bath and Tunbridge, and she spent much time at his house where she associated with people of note in the literary world of London. In these circles she was held in high esteem. Hetty would never collect her writings in a single volume, but some of them may be found in various publications: The Gentleman's Magazine, The Poetical Regis ter, The Christian Magazine, and The Arminian Magazine.
Many of her writings which she sent to members of the family were lost.
A number of authorities believe that Hetty was the author of all, or part of. The Hymn of Eupolis to the Creator. This has been ascribed to Samuel Wesley and is considered one of his finest writings. However, a large part of the original of this poem was in Hetty's handwriting, with the editing in Samuel's.
Hetty kept in close contact with her uncle Matthew as long as he lived. She faithfully nursed him through long periods of illness, and finally, in 1737, he died in her arms. His will, dated February 8, 1735, bequeathed to Hetty two hundred pounds and to his great-niece, Amelia Wright, a hundred pounds. This last bequest shows that one of Hetty's children survived early infancy at least, but how long the chile lived is not known.
Dr. Matthew Wesley's only son was a great disappointment to his father. He was educated at Oxford but lived a profligate life. He finally went to India and never returned to his father's house. Most of Dr. Matthew Wesley's estate was left to his sister, Mrs. Dyer, and after her lifetime to his son, but his torians of the Wesley family fail to record whether the son ever returned to claim this money.
The name of Susanna is conspicuously absent from any
HETTY
record of members of the family who visited Hetty after her marriage. Why did Susanna, the devoted mother, never once go to Hetty in her times of distress? The only plausible ex planation for her failure here is that Susanna was torn be tween love for her daughter and what has been called her
"conscientious refusal to countenance her." More important than that, Susanna was bound by Samuel's stern command which would forbid any contact with this rejected daughter.
It is believed that Susanna's inner conflict over Hetty had much to do with her near fatal illness during the period which she called her "sad defection when I was almost without hope."
Mary's death in 1734 was a great sorrow to Hetty, doubly so because she had been cut off from all communication with this beloved sister.
Historians of Samuel Wesley make no mention of Hetty's presence at Epworth when her father died. He would not have wanted her there. But when Susanna took up residence with John in 1739 for the last years of her life, Hetty had once more the joy of companionship with her mother and the comfort that Susanna more than anyone else could give her.
By this time the five remaining Wesley daughters were all living in or near London, so that the family group must often have gathered in Susanna's quarters.
For a long time William Wright placed severe limitations upon his wife's religious activities, and like a dutiful wife of her day she obeyed his commands. Later he softened his attitude in this regard, and she became a Methodist. John speaks of receiving help in the work of God for a short time from Hetty, "of whom I should least have expected it."
After Susanna's death, there began a noticeable decline in Hetty's health. The trials and sufferings of her unhappy life were taking their toll. Those who were dearest to her, her mother, Mary, and uncle Matthew, had gone, and she must continue alone her struggle for the inner peace and assurance she had for some time so fervently desired. Hetty was too
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
honest a person to claim something she had not really received, and her spiritual trek was a long and difficult one. Her letter to John, dated Stanmore, 1743, is most revealing:
Dear Brother, . . . After I was convinced of sin and of your opinions, as far as I had examined your principles, I still forebore declaring my sentiments as openly as I had an inclination to do, fearing I should relapse into my former state. When I was delivered from this fear, and had a blessed hope that He who had begun would finish His work, I never confessed so powerfully as I ought how entirely I was of your mind, because I was taxed with insincerity and hypocrisy whenever I opened my mouth in favour of religion, or owned how great things God had done for me.
This discouraged me utterly, and prevented me from making my change so public as my folly and vanity had formerly been.
But now my health is gone I cannot be easy without declaring that I have long desired to know one thing, Jesus Christ and Him crucified, and this desire prevails above all others.
And though I am cut off from all human help or ministry, I am not without assistance; though I have no spiritual friend, nor ever had one yet, except perhaps once in a year or two, when I have seen one of my brothers or some other religious person by stealth, yet (no thanks to me) I am enabled to seek Him still, and to be satisfied with nothing else than God, in whose presence I affirm this truth. I dare not desire health, only patience, resignation, and the spirit of an healthful mind. I have been so long weak that I know not how long my trial may last, but I have a firm persuasion and blessed hope (though no full assurance) that in the country
I am going to I shall not sing "Hallelujah!" and "Holy, holy, holy!" without company, as I have done in this.^*
By this time her husband seems to have permitted Hetty to travel from home more than formerly. So by arrangement of her brothers she went to the famous Spa at Bristol in search of health. While there she was nursed by a Mrs. Vigor, and the other Methodists of that quite Methodist city poured out
HETTY
upon her the warm friendship she had lacked for so many years. She returned home somewhat better but was still unable to attend to her household duties and was confined to bed most of the time.
For the last years of her life Hetty was an invalid. Charles Wesley was often with her and at the same time tried to strengthen William Wright's efforts to reform.
As the end was approaching, Hetty remarked to a friend:
"I have long ardently wished for death, because, you know, we Methodists always die in a transport of joy." Her extreme suffering at the end denied her this experience—there was to be no ecstasy for Hetty even in death. By strange coinci dence it was while London was in a state of great alarm over a series of earthquakes that the turbulent life of Hetty Wesley came to an end. The date was March 21, 1750, and she was but fifty-three years of age. Charles alone, of her brothers and sisters, followed her to her grave.
After Hetty's death, Charles Wesley was often with William Wright trying to help him find a faith he had not yet known.
In his queer way, William Wright had loved Hetty, but he was of too coarse a fiber to understand the refinement of her nature. He married again, but Hetty was the love of his life.
Faithful Charles Wesley was with him in his final hours and firmly believed that at the last William Wright was penitent.
Where Hetty Wesley is buried is not known. She wrote her own pathetic epitaph, but it was never graven on her headstone.
Hers was the tragedy of a blithe spirit broken by her own impetuous nature and the strictures of the time in which she lived. But there is more than that to Hetty's story. It is the triumph also of that spirit. By the time she reached middle life, her wilfulness had long given place to the enduring fortitude that adversity not infrequently brings about in a man or woman. Hetty Wesley's life was a tragedy, yes, but it was also a triumph—the triumph of a human spirit refined in the crucible of unremitting sorrow and rejection.
THE SOIVS When we review the lives of the three Wesley boys, it would seem highly inappropriate here to write at length about John apd Charles, the more famous of Susanna's sons. Public libraries and those in the homes of Methodists the world over proudly display on their shelves biographies of these noted founders of Methodism which analyze the sons of Susanna from many points of view. Indeed, historians are still busily searching for any chance letter or record that will throw more
THE SONS
light upon their lives. Treatment of them in these pages, therefore, will be confined chiefly to their relationships with their parents, with each other, and with the rest of the family.
The ties between John Wesley and his mother were very close. The greatest influence in his life was, without question,
Susanna. From his father he inherited a certain sturdiness of fiber, both physical and spiritual, that stood him in good stead during the strenuous program of his later life. To his father, too, he owed his early training in the classics and in other branches of learning in which his Oxonian parent was so proficient. John remembered through the years many words of profound wisdom he got from Samuel Wesley, an example of which he quoted thirty-five years after it was given:
"Child, you think to carry everything by dint of argument.
But you will find by and by, how little is ever done in the world by clear wisdom."
But when all is said and done, John was his mother's own child, so like her in temperament, so unruffled and deliberate in judgment. His incisive, logical mind he owed to her, with a certain practicality thrown in. One of the outstanding traits of his genius was his ability to systematize both his personal life and that of the followers he drew after him. This methodi cal trait was a direct outgrowth of his mother's training, and even the name Methodist, given to the movement, is a re minder of this fact.
Wesley's Journal, the master text for all students of Meth odism, is a product of Susanna's insistence upon rigid selfexamination. In this Journal he set down each night what he had done that day, not simply for record, but with an eye to examining what had been accomplished and bettering that day's performance at a future time.
It is an amazing trait of John Wesley's that he eagerly sought his parents' advice, even after he had reached maturity.
When he was already a member of the Holy Club at Oxford
SUSANNA—MOTHER OF THE WESLEYS
he would not enter into a visitation ministry to the Oxford prisoners until he had gained his father's sanction. Since
Samuel and Samuel's father before him had preached to the prisoners during Oxford days, approval was not long in com ing: "Go on, then, in God's name, in the path to which your
Saviour has directed you, and that track wherein your father has gone before you.''
It is no wonder that when to such a background there was added to John Wesley the compelling power of his cataclysmic
Aldersgate experience, he could awaken all England from its religious apathy and influence the course of history as few men of his generation.
Even after his life was entirely given over to the movement that he started, the ties of John Wesley's family circle were as strong as ever, and the personal needs of its various members were his constant concern. It was he who provided a home for his mother in her last years, and also for several of his sisters.
It was he who directed and largely paid for the education of his unfortunate sisters' children, not to mention the support of young Westley Hall until his untimely death, a responsibility he shared with his brother Charles.
In the providence of God, John Wesley was the last survivor of the Wesley household except for Martha whose death occurred about four months after his. He passed away at the age of eighty-seven, having preached his last sermon just one week before.
A marble medallion of John Wesley with his brother Charles is ensconced in Westminster Abbey with the rest of England's great. Books upon books have been written on every facet of John Wesley's genius. "But in the case of a man like Wesley, panegyric is out of place,'' writes Luke Tyerman. "He is one of the very few, whose memory can afford to do without it.
His well-won and world-wide fame requires no inscription on his monumental marble . .. more elaborate than this:
THE SONS
John Wesley Bom, A.D. 1703
Died A.D. 1791"
Charles Wesley, "of the merry eye and the warm heart," was like John short in stature but heavier than his wiry brother. The two men were completely different in tempera ment, but their unfailing love and respect for each other made of them a splendid team in the building of Methodism.
Charles was quick-tempered and abrupt in manner like his father, contrasted with the quiet forcefulness of his brother
John. There was no dearth of courage in either of them.
John was the dominant leader and organizer, and Charles preferred it so; but Charles with his wit and vivacity instinc tively drew people to him, for he was made for friendship. He understood men and their motives much better than did John
Wesley and thereby saved his brother many a pitfall.
In Charles Wesley's early life, particularly during his first year at Oxford, his brother John thought that he did not take his religion seriously enough and told him so. "What!" was the jocular reply, "Would you have me be a saint all at once?"
Later Charles wrote to John: "It is owing, in a great measure, to somebody's prayers—my mother's most likely—that I am come to think as I do; for I can not tell myself how or when I woke out of my lethargy."
It was really Charles Wesley who started the Holy Club; but when John returned to Oxford from his curacy at Epworth and Wroot and joined this group, it was he who at once be came its unquestioned leader.
These two brothers were more than ordinarily close, at Oxford, on the expedition to Georgia, and, after their con version, in the spread of the Methodist movement. Through the long strenuous years together as itinerant preachers they were amazingly at one. Though they differed at times, their devotion was such that each yielded to the other on occasion.
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making an unusual equanimity of effort in the work which was then the ruling passion of both their lives. It is not by accident that the Wesley memorial in the Abbey portrays the profiles of the two brothers side by side, for they were truly a team.
The preaching of the two men was quite different. John Wesley was no orator like George Whitefield, but he preached with almost a prophetic voice and with the authority of one who knew himself to be the spokesman of Almighty God. His words seared into the very depths of the uncouth folk, who chiefly made up his audiences, with a convicting power that was almost miraculous. The logical reasoning behind this preaching was John Wesley's, and the dynamic personality was his, but the power was of the Holy Spirit, and unpreceden ted things happened as a result.
Charles Wesley's preaching was of a different sort. "In the prime of life," observes William Fitchett, "he was a preacher of almost unsurpassed power, talking in sentences that had the rush and impact of bullets, but which vibrated with electric thrills of emotion. ... He felt truth rather than reasoned about it, and his feelings were wiser than his reasoned beliefs."
In 1749, Charles Wesley married Miss Sarah Gwynne of Garth, Wales, the daughter of Marmaduke Gwynne, a wellto-do magistrate. It proved to be a happy marriage, and of this union two sons and a daughter survived their parents. The sons, Charles and Samuel, were talented musicians, and both developed into organists of note. However, neither of them had any sympathy for Methodism, and Samuel even became a Roman Catholic. Charles Wesley's daughter Sally was a great favorite with her aunt Martha. It was Sally Wesley who gave to Adam Clarke many facts about the Wesleys which he used in his book Memoirs of the Wesley Family.
Charles Wesley's wife suffered an attack of smallpox which permanently marred her beauty, but in the eyes of her adoring
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husband she was always beautiful. Mrs. Charles Wesley was with John Wesley when he died.
In 1756, Charles practically retired from his itinerant ac tivity. His health had been bad for years—^the chief reason he did not return to Georgia. Besides, there were disagreements with John over policy, and, lastly, the demanding schedule of an itinerant preacher was not conducive to a happy married life. So he settled down with his family in Bristol. However, he continued to make preaching missions to various parts of England, particularly in the West, and preached regularly in Bristol. But from 1756 on, John bore the lonely load of leader ship without his beloved brother beside him. During this period in his life, however, Charles was still making a signifi cant contribution to the cause of Methodism through his leader ship in the work at Bristol, then one of the three major centers of the Methodist movement.
Charles Wesley was always greatly influenced by his older brother Samuel who had been almost like a second father to. his youngest brother. Sammy had supported him while at West minster and had guided his studies there. It was largely through his efforts that Charles was able to enter Oxford.
But Samuel Wesley II was strictly a High Churchman to the end of his life and thoroughly disapproved of the Methodists.
Partly because of this, Charles Wesley as he grew older de veloped a strange inconsistency. He had preached in the fields with all the fervor of a Methodist evangelist; but as the Methodist movement progressed, the emotional manifestations that followed some of the preaching revolted his sensibilities and filled him with fear for the future of the cause.
In later years, partly in the interest of securing better musical opportunities for his sons, he moved from Bristol to London, to John's delight. He preached chiefly in Methodism's
City Road Chapel but took John's place during his absences from London in overseeing the ever growing work of the London area. But Charles made it crystal clear that he was
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not to be buried in the Qiapel churchyard at City Road, since it was to him unconsecrated grohnd. He died March 29, 1788, after ten years of infirmity and was laid to rest in the Parish
Burying Ground in Marylebone, London. It is interesting to note that only Church of England clergymen were asked to serve as pallbearers!
Charles Wesley's real contribution—and it was to the whole Christian world—was as a hymn writer, perhaps the greatest of all time. His was the blending of deep religious insight with a poetic genius infused by classical learning and wide reading.
Anywhere and everywhere he was forever composing hymns —in a room with people talking all around him; on horseback as he rode from one preaching engagement to another, the very rhythm of the horse's hoofbeats finding their way into the cadences of his lines. > It was John Wesley who largely fashioned the theology of the Methodists, but Charles wove it into their very being with his hymns. "He set the masses singing,'' as Bishop Charles
Wesley Flint expressed it, along the highways, in lowly homes, and in the kirk. Nor were these hymns limited to Methodism.
In hymn books of every Christian denomination Charles Wes ley's hymns have found a place—"Jesus, Lover of My Soul,"
"Christ the Lord Is Risen Today," "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing," "O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing," and scores of others. His songs belong to the ages.
After Charles Wesley's death, John Wesley on one occasion was lining out to a congregation his brother's famous hymn;
"Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown," called "Wrestling Ja cob." When he came to the couplet My company before is gone.
And I am left alone with thee, the old man could go on no further but stopped, covered his face, and wept.
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The poetic genius of Charles Wesley did not end with him.
His sons have been mentioned. His grandson Samuel Sebastian Wesley, son of Samuel, became one of the greatest organists of the Church of England and a composer as well. The tune
"Aurelia" to which we sing "The Church's One Foundation" was his composition.
Samuel Wesley, Jr., classicist, poet, teacher, clergyman, humanitarian, might have occupied a more important spot in English history had he not been eclipsed by the eminence of his younger brothers. After he left home at fourteen for Westminster school in London, young Samuel was never again a member of the Epworth parsonage. But his parents kept in close touch with him through frequent letters, advising him, as they did his brothers at a later date, on many matters regard ing his religious as well as his physical well-being. He was receptive to their words of wisdom, and there is no record of any conflicts on the part of Sammy with either his father or his mother.
There was always a substantial quality about this oldest son of Susanna and Samuel. Through the years he stood solidly behind them in whatever calamity befell them—^and there were many.
He early showed a special interest in the classics. His father laid the groundwork for these studies before he sent him off to Westminster School. The school had a reputation for ex cellent teaching in this field, and young Samuel from the first showed great proficiency in classical learning. In his third year he had the honor of becoming a King's Scholar, which carried with it welcome financial advantages. While still a pupil at Westminster, Sammy was chosen, of all the scholars, to read to Bishop Sprat in the evenings. Most young men would have considered this a signal honor; but young Samuel was full of resentment because this chore took him away from his own studies which he considered more important. "He chose me from all the scholars," wrote Sammy to his father; "me who
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am both hoarse and short-sighted." The letter, incidentally, was written in Latin.
From Westminster he went on to Christ Church, Oxford, ■ and received a Master's degree in a short time. From Oxford he returned to Westminster as usher (teacher) and remained in that capacity for twenty years. Shortly after his return to Westminster he took Holy Orders. He was ordained by Bishop
Atterbury, then Dean of Westminster and Bishop of Rochester, but Samuel, though ordained, continued in the role of educator until his untimely death at the age of forty-nine.
Out of the first salary he received as an usher he sent home a portion to help with the family finances, and as long as he lived he continued to share his income with his father and mother, an income that was never large. As soon as Charles
Wesley was ready for Westminster School, Samuel, Jr. as sumed the expenses of his schooling and directed his courses until he, too, was made a King's Scholar. Samuel also helped
John financially with his education. He permitted no mention to be made of any help he gave to his family, therefore much of it passed unnoticed.
In 1715, Mr. Samuel Wesley, Jr. married Ursula, the daughter of the Reverend John Berry, then his near neighbor at Westminster. It was a happy marriage, though his sisters and brothers found their sister-in-law a bit waspish. It must be said to her credit, however, that she went along with her husband in the contributions to the Epworth exchequer that had become by now a regular part of his life.
As a man of letters, the younger Samuel moved in the circle of Pope, Swift, Addison, and Prior, and enjoyed a fine reputa tion as a wit, a poet, and a thorough scholar. He was the author of many beautiful hymns which were formerly sung in English congregations of various denominations, but it is Charles's matchless hymn writing, not Samuel's, that has survived the test of two centuries. As a satirist Samuel was preeminent, and his facile pen, when turned against those political figures
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of the day of whom he disapproved, could cut with the sharp ness of a razor. An oft-quoted example of Samuel's devastating wit are the lines on the erection of a monument to the poet
Samuel Butler, author of Hudibras:
While Butler, needy wretch! was yet alive.
No purse-proud printer would a dinner give:
See him, when starved to death, and turned to dust.
Presented with a monumental bust!
The Poet's fate is here in emblem shown:
He asked for bread, and he received a stone} His interests extended far beyond the classroom and study, however. It was largely through his long and patient efforts that the hospital at Hyde Park Corner, now . known as St.
George's Hospital, was erected.
He had his own way of taking care of situations he thought needed remedying. In London he was a frequent guest in the home of Lord Oxford, a patron of letters. Upon each departure from Lord Oxford's home the liveried servants lined up at the door expecting a gratuity. Mr. Wesley grew weary of this custom which he considered presumptuous, and on one occasion he paused at the head of the line and announced in positive tones that he would tip them once a month but no more. His action helped to break up this obnoxious procedure.
It is amazing how closely allied Sammy remained with the daily life of the Epworth parsonage after his separation from it. The following lines from one of his poems illustrate this:
Methinks I see you striving all Who first shall answer to his call.
Or lusty Anne, or feeble Moll, ^ Sage Pat, or sober Hetty; To rub his cassock's draggled tail, Or reach his hat from off the nail.
Or seek the key to draw his ale
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When damsel haps to steal it.
To burn his pipe, or mend his clothes.
Or nicely dam his russet hose— For comfort of his aged toes— So fine they cannot feel it.^ Though Sammy was, in his father's words, "a father to your brothers and sisters," and loved them all devotedly, he was very positive in his opinions regarding what they did. He never wanted either of his brothers to go to Georgia and believed Charles completely unsuited to the position of secre tary to General Oglethorpe on that American expedition. Later events proved he was right. His estimate of Westley Hall was unfavorable from the start, and again his judgment was correct. In a letter to his brother Charles, dated September 21,
1726, he writes: "There was no great likelihood of his being a favorite with me: his tongue is too smooth for my roughness and rather inclines me to suspect than believe."
The younger Samuel Wesley was a Tory, a High Church man and an intense Jacobite, and he never modified by a hair his adherence to any of these persuasions. In 1722, his patron
Bishop Atterbury was accused of trying to bring back the Pretender to the English throne. The bishop was sent to the Tower and afterward banished forever from his native land.
Samuel Wesley, Jr. never believed Bishop Atterbury guilty of this charge though facts uncovered after the bishop's death proved Samuel's opinion incorrect. Samuel openly espoused
Atterbury's cause, regardless of the consequences to himself.
And there were consequences: Samuel lost his preferment and failed to be made Second Master of Westminster School, a position which was rightfully his after twenty years of out standing service. This was a bitter disappointment to Mr.
Wesley, and he was forced to content himself with the Head Mastership of the Blondell Free School at Tiverton, Devon shire. Here he served for seven years until his death, seven
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happy years in which he proved himself an able administrator as well as a superior teacher. He was "almost idolized" by the citizens of that place.
There was tragedy in the life of Samuel Wesley II. His wife presented him with a number of children, but only two lived to maturity. His son Samuel, who was the idol of his father, died quite young, leaving only a daughter called Phil to survive her parents.
Samuel Wesley, Jr. thoroughly disapproved of the Methodist movement and could never understand any part of it. He was a High Churchman to the core of his being and resented bitterly any slightest departure from the Church's stated forms and ways of doing things. In a letter to his mother on this subject, dated October, 1739, he writes: "For my own part,
I had much rather have them [his brothers] picking straws within the walls than preaching in the area of Moorfields"
(the Methodist center in London).
That his brothers, ordained clergymen of the Established Church, could preach out in the highways and the hedges and could substitute extempore prayers for the stately measures of the English Prayer Book was something he could not accept. He could never go along with their belief in the witness of the Spirit, and the stories that came to him of the emotional manifestations accompanying Methodist conversions were re volting to him.
Perhaps if Samuel had been in closer personal touch with his brothers during this period he would have been more tolerant, but this is doubtful. He was set in his ways, and High Churchmanship was a principle with him.
He bore no ill will toward John and Charles in all this matter, however. There was frank disagreement among them on the subject, and Samuel never hesitated to express his opinion; but there was never any diminution in the love and consideration the three brothers had for one another. Indeed, he commended the Methodists for the establishment of their
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Charity School, and expressed the hope that John would build a church for the colliers (coal miners).
The last letter he ever wrote to John on the subject of Methodism, dated September 9, 1739, mentions the fact that he has been indisposed but adds: "I am on the mending hand in spite of foul weather." On November 5, 1739, he suddenly became very ill and died early the next morning. John and Charles were not informed of his death until after his burial, for in those days Devon was a long, long journey from London.
Perhaps the finest tribute to this stalwart character is these words which were part of the inscription carved on his grave stone in Tiverton church yard:
An excellent preacher:
But whose best sermon Was the constant example of an edifying life.
The Foundery . . . had a fine location on Windmill Hill.
SUSAMA at the FOUNDERY Susanna's sons took the responsibility for their mother in settling up their father's affairs following his death. This had to be done as soon as possible in order to make way for the rector's successor to take possession of the rectory.
■ One of Samuel's fondest wishes was to pay his debts before he died, but it was unfulfilled. As he had requested, the rector was buried "very frugally, yet very decently,'' but he left a debt of about one hundred pounds and, in addition, another
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fifteen pounds for rent due on a field which the family had rented for pasture. On the day of Samuel's burial, the owner of the field seized all their quick stock, valued at forty pounds, for the fifteen pounds rent. John immediately paid the rental fee, thus releasing the stock in order to allow his mother to sell all to the greatest advantage.
It was John who now seems to assume the position as head of the family. It was he—spriest that he was—^who had made the commendatory prayer during his father's last moments, and now it was John who helped his mother wind up all busi ness matters before she left the Epworth parsonage forever.
She sold the stock, the farming equipment of every kind, and all the furniture—everything she had in the world—to pay what was owed. The sum remaining after all obligations had been met cannot have been a large amount, because for the rest of her days Susanna was dependent upon the bounty of her children. They never failed her. Out of their own meager incomes they cared for her with the tenderness that character ized Susanna's family through its entire history.
Samuel, Jr. was unable to reach Epworth before his father died, but at his mother's urgent request he joined his brothers there as they arranged for her final departure from the rectory.
To Samuel, her oldest son, she looked for whatever financial help she must have, as is shown by a letter from Charles to his older brother: "If you take London in your way [en route to Epworth], my mother desires you will remember that she is a clergyman's widow. Let the Society give her what they please, she must be still, in some degree burdensome to you, as she calls it. How do I envy you that glorious burden and wish I could share it with you! You must put me in some way of getting a little money, that I may do something in this shipwreck of the family, though it be no more than furnishing a plank!''
In that same letter Charles writes:
"It will be highly necessary to bring all accounts of what