4. Forsaken by Her Husband
Forsaken by Her Husband
Although separated by several miles from the ocean, Epworth was actually located on an island. Three rivers converged and enclosed a portion of land some fourteen miles in length, and the encircled area was known as the Isle of Axholme. A large majority of the inhabitants were unlettered and some were vicious, but a few were of a better class. Here, after arriving in 1697, Samuel and Susanna were to remain till his death thirty-eight years later.
Susanna was not one to glory in material things, but we may be sure that, at least for her family’s sake, she was pleased to move into a rectory that was larger and somewhat better than the one at South Ormsby. ‘It contained five bays, built all of timber and plaster, and covered all with straw thatch, the whole building being contrived into three storeys, and being disposed in seven chief rooms — a kitchen, a hall, a parlour, a buttery and three large upper rooms and some others of common use. . .’[1] The Wesleys undoubtedly delighted in this improvement in their domestic circumstances.
Having made the step upwards from South Ormsby to Epworth, Samuel had reason to hope that further advancement lay before him. Immediately after his appointment he was asked to go to Gainsborough and preach the Visitation Sermon, and among his hearers were the bishop and a majority of the clergy of the diocese. He was also invited to journey to London and address the annual meeting of the Society for the Reformation of Manners. At this gathering his audience would include not only a number of ministers, but also certain members of the aristocracy — people of wealth and influence. But Samuel had to meet his own expenses in travelling to and from these events.
A still greater honour followed when he was elected to serve as a proctor (that is, a representative) of the diocese of Lincoln at the Convocation of the Church of England. The convocation was held in London and was virtually an ecclesiastical parliament that legislated concerning the affairs of the church. ‘The lower house of which Mr Wesley was a member consisted of twenty-two deans, fifty-three archdeacons, twenty-four prebendaries and forty-four proctors — altogether one hundred and forty-three persons.’[2] Election to this body was a privilege and an honour and the fact that Samuel Wesley was chosen indicates the high opinion in which this new man at Epworth was held by the Lincolnshire clergy. Yet for this visit to London, which might require his presence there for several weeks, he was not paid anything at all, and again he met his own expenses, which he says amounted to £50.
Always a man of intense industry, shortly after his arrival in Epworth, Samuel added to his clerical duties the task of farming. There were some acres of glebe lands owned by his parish and he began to cultivate them, in the hope of reducing his burden of debt. He also acquired a few animals — cows, pigs, chickens and ducks. But he had no previous experience of farming and although his efforts were praiseworthy they increased rather than reduced his debts.
Several authors have assumed that Samuel Wesley’s salary at Epworth was ‘wretchedly small’, but when compared with the amounts paid to clergymen in general it was truly generous. We have seen that in his first curacy he received £28 and at South Ormsby £50. We are told that ‘There were hundreds of clergymen whose livings were not worth more than £20 a year and thousands whose livings did not exceed £50.’ Fifty years later John Wesley paid his lay preachers £15 a year. Samuel’s salary when he began at Epworth amounted to £200, and although it declined in later years, it was still, in comparison, a considerable sum.
But by the year 1700 Samuel was so far in debt that he was becoming almost desperate. On 28 December of that year he described his situation in a letter to Dr Sharpe, the Archbishop of York, saying,
I must own that I [am] ashamed . . . to confess that I [am] three hundred pounds in debt, when I have a living of which I have made two hundred pounds per annum, though I could hardly let it now for eight score.
I doubt not one reason of my being sunk so far is my not understanding worldly affairs, and my aversion to law. . .
’Twill be no great wonder that when I had but fifty pounds per annum for six or seven years together, and nothing to begin the world with, one child at least per annum, and my wife sick for half that time, that I should run one hundred and fifty pounds behindhand. . .
When I had the rectory of Epworth given me, my Lord of Sarum was so generous as to pass his word to his goldsmith [banker] for one hundred pounds which I borrowed of him. It cost me very little less than fifty pounds of this in my journey to London, and getting into my living, for the Broad Seal, etc.; and with the other fifty pounds I stopped the mouths of my most importunate creditors.
When I removed to Epworth I was forced to take up fifty pounds more, for setting up a little husbandry . . . and buying some part of what was necessary towards furnishing my house, which was larger, as well as my family. . .
The next year my barn fell, which cost me forty pounds in rebuilding. . . and having an aged mother who must have gone to prison if I had not assisted her, she cost me upwards of forty pounds, which obliged me to take up another fifty pounds. I have had but three children born since I came hither, about three years since; but another coming, and my wife incapable of any business in my family, as she has been for almost a quarter of a year; yet we have but one maidservant, to retrench all possible expenses. . .
Fifty pounds interest and principal I have paid my Lord of Sarum’s goldsmith. All which together keeps me necessitous, especially since interest money begins to pinch me. . . Humbly asking pardon for this tedious trouble,
I am your grace’s most obliged and humble servant,
Dr Sharpe contributed towards meeting Wesley’s need and influenced certain titled people to do so too. Samuel wrote, ‘I heartily thank God for raising me so great and generous a benefactor as your grace. . .,’ and he later listed seven persons who had given in response to the archbishop’s appeal. Their gifts amounted to £185.
Susanna was now pregnant again. Nevertheless Samuel went to London to be present at the convocation, the visit costing him, as he says, £50. When he returned he wrote to the archbishop reporting that Susanna had again given birth to twins. His letter reads:
My Lord,
This comes to bring such news as I presume will not be unwelcome to a person who has so particular a concern for me. Last night my wife brought me a few children. There are but two yet, a boy and a girl, and I think they are all at present; we have had four in two years and a day, three of which are living.
Never came anything more like a gift from heaven than what the Countess of Northampton sent by your charitable offices. Wednesday evening my wife and I clubbed and joined stocks, which came to six shillings to send for coals. Thursday morning I received the ten pounds and at night my wife was delivered. Glory be to God for his unspeakable goodness!
I am your grace’s most obliged and humble servant,
Samuel probably regarded his remarks about the birth of the twins as humorous, but we may be sure Susanna would not have thought them so.
However, Samuel was in such low spirits at this time that he could barely think normally. His expectations of securing preferment in the church had failed and his debts seemed ever to mount. He was frustrated and was actually becoming desperate. It is evident he felt he must escape from his circumstances, that he must get away from Epworth and from the pressure of his financial worries. And he now found an opportunity to do just that.
John Wesley was not yet born, of course, but he later heard of his father’s incredible action and reported it. His timing is slightly incorrect, but here is what he wrote: ‘The year before King William died my father observed my mother did not say Amen to the prayer for the king. She said she could not, for she did not believe that the Prince of Orange was king. He vowed he would not cohabit with her till she did. He then took horse and rode away, nor did she hear anything of him for a twelvemonth. He then came back and lived with her as before. But I fear his vow was not forgotten before God.’[5]
We must seek to understand this matter of William of Orange and his not being accepted as the King of England. We have already seen that in 1688 England had experienced a revolution. King James II, who although he professed loyalty to the Church of England, strongly favoured the church of Rome, had been exiled and his daughter Mary had become queen. Her husband, William of Orange, a member of the Dutch royal family, was brought from Holland and was declared king. Though William was a militant Protestant, a considerable body of Englishmen refused to swear allegiance to him and these people were known as ‘non-jurors’. Several clergymen were expelled from their livings because of their refusal to recognize William of Orange as sovereign.
Various authors, seeking to maintain that Samuel’s character was entirely unblemished, have declared that this ‘Amen’ affair never happened. They have asserted that John got hold of a false tale and assumed it to be true. The Rev. Luke Tyerman, for instance, says, ‘The one damaging point, that Samuel Wesley allowed a miserable squabble respecting the rights of King William to make him neglect his wife, and to leave his house, his family and his flock for the space of twelve months, is a thing which, if true, would have been a scandalous, cruel and wicked act.’[6] But the sad fact is that it is manifestly true.
In 1953 certain letters that Susanna wrote in 1702, during this trying ordeal, came to light and were published in the Manchester Guardian. Susanna had informed a non-juror, Lady Yarborough, of Samuel’s action. She stated, among other things, that he termed his vow not to live with her ‘his oath’. The lady, scarcely able to believe Susanna’s report, had replied and Susanna wrote to her again. Here is what she wrote:
Madam,
I’m definitely obliged to you for your charming civility to a person so utterly unworthy of your favours, but oh, madam! I must tell your ladyship that you have somewhat mistaken my case. You advise me to continue with my husband, and God knows how gladly I would do it, but there, there is my supreme affliction, he will not live with me. ’Tis but a little while since he one evening observed in our family prayers that I did not say Amen to his prayer for KW [King William] as I usually do to all others; upon which he retired to his study, and calling me to him asked the reason of my not saying Amen to the prayer. I was a little surprised at the question and don’t know well what I answered, but too well I remember what followed: he immediately kneeled down and imprecated the divine vengeance upon himself and all his posterity if ever he touched me more or came into a bed with me before I had begged God’s pardon and his for not saying Amen to the prayer for the king.
This, madam, is my unhappy case. I’ve unsuccessfully represented to him the unlawfulness and unreasonableness of his oath; that the man in that case has no more power over his own body than the woman over hers; that since I’m willing to let him quietly enjoy his opinions, he ought not to deprive me of my little liberty of conscience. But he has opened his mouth to the Lord and what help? . . . I have no resentment against my master, so far from it that the very next day I went with him to the communion, though he that night forsook my bed, to which he has been a stranger ever since.
I’m almost ashamed to own what extreme disturbance this accident has given me, yet I value not the world. I value neither reputation, friends or anything in comparison of the single satisfaction of preserving a conscience void of offence towards God and man; and how I can do that if I mock Almighty God for what I think is no sin, is past my discerning. But I am inexpressibly miserable, for I can see no possibility of reconciling these differences, though I would submit to anything or do anything in the world to oblige him to live in the house with me.
I appeal to your ladyship if my circumstances are not strangely unhappy. I don’t think there’s any precedent for such a case in the whole world; and may I not say as the prophet, I am the person that has seen affliction. I’m almost afraid I’ve already complied with him too far, but most humbly beg your ladyship’s direction.[7]
Lady Yarborough had taken up Susanna’s case with a friend and this man’s opinion had confirmed Susanna in the view that her attitude was correct. Susanna then wrote to Lady Yarborough again, saying:
Madam,
The shortness of my time will I hope excuse the brevity of my answer. I’m extremely obliged to your ladyship for your generous concern and pity of my misfortunes, and return my humblest thanks for your letters, which have been a great cordial to me and given me unspeakable satisfaction. I find the gentleman that has seen my letters is of opinion that I ought not to comply any further, but persevere in following the dictates of my own conscience, which I hope is not erroneous. . .
I’ve represented as long as I could be heard the sin of the oath and ill consequences of it to my master, but he cannot be convinced he has done ill, nor does the present change in state [the king’s death on 8 March] make any alteration in his mind. . . He is for London at Easter where he designs to try if he can get a chaplain’s place in a man of war [a naval vessel].
I’m more easy in the thoughts of parting because I think we are not likely to live happily together. I have six very little children, which though he tells me he will take very good care of, yet if anything should befall him at sea we should be in no very good condition. . . I’ve offered since I last writ to your ladyship to put this business to a reference, provided I might choose one referee and my master another, but I fancy he’ll never agree to it. He is fearful of my communicating it to any person, which makes me somewhat more confined than usually. But when he is gone I hope I shall be able to wait on your ladyship. . .
. . .I humbly beg that the gentleman would be careful that the world may know nothing which may reflect on my master, but that the business may be concealed.[8]
Samuel had sworn his boastful oath on or about 1 March 1702. Yet he had not left home immediately, but though refraining from any familiarity with Susanna, had remained there while he decided what to do.
But on 5 April he left for London. Susanna immediately rode the fourteen miles to the home of Lady Yarborough, and while she was there she wrote to a leading non-juror, Suffragan Bishop Hickes. Her letter to him reads:
Revd Sir,
I should not at this time trouble or divert your better thoughts, but you having been already acquainted by the Lady Yarborough with some uneasy circumstances I at present am under, and expressing so generous a pity and compassion for an unfortunate stranger, makes me presume to beg your direction in this particular.
My master will not be persuaded he has no power over the conscience of his wife, and though I believe he’s somewhat troubled over his oath, yet cannot be persuaded ’tis not obligatory. He is now for referring the whole to the Archbishop of York and Bishop of Lincoln, and says if I will not be determined by them, he will do anything rather than live with a person that is the declared enemy of his country. . .
I know very well before such judges I’m sure to be condemned without a fair hearing; nor can I see any reason I have to ask either God Almighty’s or his [Samuel’s] pardon for acting according to the best knowledge I have of things of that nature. If I thought or could be persuaded I’m in an error I would freely retract it and ask his pardon before the whole world. He accuses me of pride and obstinacy and insists upon my making him satisfaction for the injury he believes I have done him. . .
My master is at London, and the extreme difficulty of receiving a letter when he’s at home without his knowledge is the reason I would humbly beg the favour of a speedy answer.[9]
On 29 April Bishop Hickes replied to Susanna’s letter. He stated:
Good madam,
The pity and compassion I have for you is no more than what any other person who hath common humanity and Christian charity will declare upon hearing your case. . . I am persuaded if it were represented to the two persons to whom you say Mr Wesley will refer it, that they would pity you and blame his conduct, and tell him that his oath lays no obligation upon him, but that of repentance for the rashness and iniquity of it, the matter thereof being wholly contrary to the prior obligation of his marriage-promise. . . It was perjury in him to make it, and will be a continuation of perjury for him to persist in the performance of it. . .
Perhaps it is advisable for you to state the whole case in a letter to the Archbishop of York and desire him to communicate the same to the Bishop of Lincoln, and to beseech them, if they think his oath unlawful to be kept, they would freely tell him their opinion and charge him to loose himself from the bond of sin. . .
And to your daily prayers I will add my own, that God would convert him and enable him to follow the blessed life of the meek and charitable Jesus, which he has devoutly celebrated in heroic verse, and proposed for his own as well as other men’s example. . . To that Jesus who himself endured the cross and knows how to comfort all those who endure it, I now commit you with many hearty ejaculations, and remain with all Christian compassion, madam,
Your most faithful friend and servant,
On 31 July Susanna again wrote to Bishop Hickes. She began by referring to receiving his letter and says,
. . . My master was then at London and had given me time to consider what to do, whether I would submit to his judgement and implicitly obey him in matters of conscience. I foresaw a great many evils would inevitably befall me if I refused to satisfy his desires, and had scarce courage enough to support me in the melancholy prospect when your letter came, which was the noblest cordial and gave me the greatest satisfaction of anything in my whole life.
When he returned he absolutely refused a reference. . . He stayed two days and then left me early one morning with a resolution never to see me more. But the infinite Power that disposes and overrules the minds of men as he pleases . . . so ordered it that in his way he met a clergyman to whom he communicated his intentions, and the reason that induced him to leave his family: he extremely pitied him and condemned me, but, however, he prevailed with him to return.
But as often happens . . . his long absenting himself upon that account occasioned abundance of trouble to himself and his family . . . as strange a complication of misfortunes as perhaps ever happened to any persons in the world. . .
Before I’ve finished my letter I’m alarmed by a new misfortune: my house is now fired by one of my servants, I think not carelessly but by so odd an accident as I may say of it, as the magicians [said] of Moses’s fourth miracle, this is the finger of God. Two thirds are burnt, and most of our goods . . . are utterly spoiled. May heaven avert all evil from my children and grant that the heavy curse my master has wished upon himself and family may terminate in this life. I most earnestly beg the continuance of your prayers, that God may at last have mercy upon us, at least that he would spare the innocent children, however he is pleased to deal with the unhappy parents.
I am sir
Your most obliged humble servant
Of course this was not the fire from which John was rescued; that occurred seven years later. The danger to herself and the children was greater than Susanna states. She herself, though far from well, had taken a child under each arm and had run through the fire and the smoke and reached safety. But in the hurry one of the little girls was left; her cries were heard and some of the neighbours entered the burning building and brought her out through the fire.
Samuel had told his wife that he would never see her again and had set out for London, and by the time the fire was noticed he had got as far as the lower end of the town. When he was told that it was his house that was on fire he must have wondered if the curse that he had pronounced on Susanna and the children was taking effect. Both he and Susanna, like the majority of the people of those times, believed in the power of such curses, and Susanna’s prayer that the curse might ‘terminate in this life’ indicates her apprehensions that its effects could continue even after death. On hearing of the fire, Samuel borrowed a horse and hurried home, where he learned, he says, ‘that my wife, children and books were saved’.
There is a question in this affair that needs to be answered. Samuel and Susanna had been married for twelve years when this episode took place and he must have noticed long before this that she did not say ‘Amen’ to the prayer for the king, which he prayed every day. Why, then, did he wait so long to make his complaint? The reason is undoubtedly that he had willingly allowed her to have her opinion for all those years, but now he had come to such a plight that he must find some excuse for deserting her, and he found it in this matter which he could make appear so tremendously important.
Susanna’s refusal to acknowledge William as king manifestly was particularly significant to Samuel as it seemed to place in jeopardy his hopes of securing preferment from the king. He had gained the good will of Queen Mary, but she was now dead. Recently he had produced a memorial of the queen in which he had flattered her in exaggerated terms and he hoped that this would secure the gratitude of the king. But all these hopes would be dashed if it became known that his wife refused to say ‘Amen’ to the prayer for the sovereign and refused to swear allegiance to him.
Samuel could claim that he had kept his oath. He had left Susanna as he had said he would and had been gone for more than five months. The position he had sought aboard a naval vessel was probably awaiting him. But now that the fire had destroyed a considerable portion of the house he decided to stay at home and rebuild it, using the fire as his justification for doing so.
He wrote at this time to Archbishop Sharpe. He made no reference to his having left Susanna and apparently assumed that the archbishop knew nothing about what he had done. But he did mention the downcast state of mind he had been suffering for some months. ‘I find it some happiness,’ he said, ‘to have been miserable, for my mind has been so blunted with former misfortunes that this [the fire] scarce made any impression on me.’[12]
Samuel’s desperate action had two detrimental effects on the life of the Wesleys. For one thing, it hindered Samuel from rising to a better position in the church. He was never appointed to any superior parish and one of the main reasons for his being passed over was no doubt the irresponsibility he had displayed in this affair. And secondly, Susanna’s attitude towards him was never the same again, for since he had once shown himself to be so heartless she feared he might well do the same again.
At least this fire had one very valuable result. Had it not occurred and had Samuel spent the remainder of his days aboard a naval vessel, John and Charles would never have been born and the name of Wesley would have been entirely unknown today.