William Grimshaw of Haworth and His Ministry — Chapter II

Extra-Parochial Labour in Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire—The Nature of this Labour Explained and Defended—Persecution at Colne—The Archbishop of York’s Visit to Haworth—His Love to the Articles and Homilies—His Last Illness, Dying Sayings, Death, and Funeral.

THE religious condition of England a hundred years ago was so deplorably bad, that a man like Grimshaw was not likely to confine his labours to his own parish. Led by the force of circumstances, he soon began to preach outside his parochial boundaries, and finally “did the work of an evangelist” throughout the whole region within fifty miles of Haworth.

The circumstances which led Grimshaw into this course of action are soon explained. Hundreds of his regular hearers at Haworth were not his parishioners, and came together from distant places. Once taught of God to know the value of the gospel, they went out of their own parishes to get the spiritual food which they could not find at home. It was only natural that these people should feel for their families and neighbours, and desire that they might hear what had done good to themselves. They asked Grimshaw to come and preach at their houses, and represented to him the ignorance and _ spiritual destitution of all around their own homes. They entreated him to come and tell their friends and relatives the same things he was every week telling his congregation at Haworth. They told him that souls were perishing for lack of knowledge, unshepherded, uncared for, and untaught, and promised him a hearty welcome if he would “ come over” his parish boundaries and “help” them. Appeals like these, we can well believe, were not made in vain. Ina short time these extra-parochial labours became a regular and systematic business. The voice of the incumbent of Haworth was soon heard in many other places beside his parish-church, and for many years he was known throughout Yorkshire, Lancashire, Cheshire, and North Derbyshire, as the apostle and preacher of the district.

It would be interesting to name all the places which Grimshaw was in the habit of visiting as an evangelist, but it is impossible to do so. No accurate record remains of the extent of his labours, and he left no journal behind him. It is known, however, that in Yorkshire he used to preach at Leeds, Halifax, Bradford, Manningham, Todmorden, Birstal, Keighley, Otley, Bingley, Bramley, Heptonstall, Luddenden, and Osmotherley. In Lancashire, he used to visit Manchester, Bolton, Rochdale, Colne, Padiham, Holme, Bacop, and Rossendale. In Cheshire, we find him at Stockport, Tarvin, and Rostherne; and in Derbyshire at Mellor. These places are probably not a tenth part of those he visited, but they are places specially mentioned by his biographers.

In all these places the people who valued such preaching as Grimshaw’s were banded together in societies, and generally under the direction of one man. The incumbent of a large parish like Haworth, of course, could only leave his own work for a short time, and visit distant preaching-stations at long intervals. Between his visits, the societies were necessarily left very much to themselves and their local leaders. Conference with these leaders, receiving reports from them of the spiritual condition of the societies, and arranging with them for breaking up new ground as well as keeping old ground in cultivation, made no small part of Grimshaw’s extra-parochial work. To these leaders of societies was left the provision of rooms, or barns, or convenient fields for preaching, and the collection of money to defray expenses. Thus, when the incumbent of Haworth, or some like-minded friend, paid his periodical visit, he had nothing to do but to preach.

The managers or leaders of these societies, scattered about Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire, were seldom above the middle class, and frequently no more than intelligent small farmers. There is no evidence that Grimshaw’s ministry ever had much effect upon the upper ranks, or indeed was ever brought to bear upon them. But none but an ignorant man will ever think the worse of it on that account. To get hold of the lower middle and lower classes_of society, and enlist them in the service of Christ, is at this day one of the greatest problems the Churches have to solve. If Grimshaw succeeded in doing this, it is enough to prove that he wasno common man. A church is never in so healthy a state as it is when ‘‘the common people hear gladly.”

Let the following extract from Hardy’s “ Life of Grimshaw” supply an instance of the sort of people that Grimshaw got hold of in his itinerant labours outside his own parish :—“ At Booth Bank, in the parish of Rostherne, Cheshire, Grimshaw’s services used to be held in the house of John and Alice Cross. Alice was a woman of great spirit and intrepidity, and a heroine in Christ’s service. Her husband was a quiet sober man, but for some time after her conversion he remained in his old ways. When going out to worship, with her straw hat in one hand and the door-latch in the other, she would say to him, ‘John Cross, wilt thou go to heaven with me? If thou wilt not, I am determined not to go to hell with thee!’ John yielded at last; a pulpit was fixed in the largest room of their house at Rostherne, and the messengers of God were made welcome to their fare and farm. When beggars came to the door she told them of the riches that are in Christ Jesus, and, kneeling by their side, commended them to the grace of God, and then sent them away, grateful for her charity, and impressed by her earnestness in seeking their souls’ good. Nor were the more honourable of the land beyond the reach of herreproofs. On one occasion she stopped the Cheshire hunt, when passing her house, and addressed the horsemen, especially Lord Stamford and Sir Harry Mainwaring, who listened to her warning and rode on. When the expected preacher did not come, though the pulpit was not occupied, the congregation did not go empty away. Alice Cross herself, in her simple and earnest way, dealt out the bread of life.” Such were the kind of households that Grimshaw used to make centres of operation in his extra-parochial evangelism. Such were the kind of people who valued his labours, welcomed his visits, and proved the value of his preaching, in the district within fifty miles of Haworth.

No doubt these extra-parochial labours of Grimshaw will appear wrong to many in the present day. Many are such excessive lovers of parochial order that they feel scandalized at the idea of an incumbent preaching in other men’s parishes. Such people would do well to remember the condition of England in Grimshaw’s times. There were scores and hundreds of parishes all over the north of England in which there was no resident clergyman; and the services of the Church, even when performed, were cold, brief, and utterly unprofitable. To tell us that Grimshaw ought to have left the inhabitants of these parishes to perish in ignorance rather than commit a breach of parochial order, is simply ridiculous. Men might as well tell us that we must not knock at a person’s door and awaken him, when his house is on fire, because we have not the honour of his acquaintance! The parochial system of the Church of England was designed for the good of men’s souls. It was never intended to ruin souls by cutting them off from the sound of the gospel.

The thing that is really wonderful, in the history of Grimshaw’s extra-parochial labours, is the non-interference of ecclesiastical authorities. How the incumbent of Haworth can have gone on for fifteen or twenty years preaching all over Lancashire, Yorkshire, and Cheshire, without being stopped by bishops and archdeacons, is very hard to understand! Let us charitably hope that many felt in their secret hearts that some such evangelism as his was absolutely needed. The enormous size of such parishes as Bradford and Halfax in Yorkshire—as Whalley, Rochdale, and Prestwich, in Lancashire—as Stockport, Astbury, and Prestbury, in Cheshire, made it utterly impossible for the clergymen of the mother-churches to provide means of grace for their parishioners. We may well believe, that to arrest such labours as Grimshaw’s in these unwieldy parishes would have been so unwise, that even bishops and archdeacons of the last century shrank from attempting it. Be the cause what it may, it is a most curious fact that Grimshaw was never entirely stopped in his extra-parochial ministry. The hand of the Lord was with him, and he carried on his itinerant work, as well as his regular services at Haworth, up to his death.

But though Grimshaw was never actually stopped, we must not suppose that he escaped persecution. The prince of this world will never willingly part with any of his subjects. He will stir up opposition against any one who tries to pull down his kingdom. The incumbent of Haworth was often obliged to face abuse and personal violence of a kind that we can hardly imagine in the present day. ‘* Mad Grimshaw” was the name given to him by many throughout the district in which he laboured. None opposed him more than some of the clergy. With the true dog-in-the-manger spirit, they neither did good themselves nor liked any one else to do it for them.

The most violent of Grimshaw’s opponents was the Rev. George White, perpetual curate of Colne and Marsden, in Lancashire. This worthy commenced his attack by publishing a sermon against the Methodists, preached at his two churches in August 1748. In this sermon he charged Grimshaw and all his fellowlabourers with being “‘ authors of confusion; open destroyers of the public peace; flying in the face of the very Church they craftily pretend to follow; occasioning many bold insurrections, which threaten our spiritual government; schismatical rebels against the best of Churches; authors of a further breach in our unhappy divisions; contemners of the great command, ‘ Six days shalt thou labour ;’ defiers of all laws, civil and ecclesiastical; professed disrespecters of learning and education; causing a visible ruin of trade and manufactures; and, in short, promoters of a shameful progress of enthusiasm and confusion not to be paralleled in any other Christian dominion.”

Not content with preaching this stuff and nonsense, White proceeded to stir up a mob to stop the preaching of Grimshaw and his companions by force and violence. He actually issued a proclamation, in order to collect a mob, in the following words: “ Notice is hereby given, that 1f any men be mindful to enlist into His Majesty’s service, under the command of the Rev. George White, commander-in-chief, and John Banister, lieutenant-general of His Majesty’s forces, for the defence of the Church of England, and the support of the manufactures in and about Colne, both which are now in danger, let them now repair to the cross, when each man shall have a pint of ale for advance, and other proper encouragements. ”

The consequence of this outrageous proclamation was just what might have been expected. ‘“ Lewd fellows of the baser sort” are always ready to make a riot against religion, as they were in the days of St. Paul. When Grimshaw and John Wesley went to Colne to preach, on the 24th of August 1748, they were attacked by an overwhelming mob of drunken people armed with clubs, and dragged before White like thieves and malefactors. After a vain endeavour to extort a promise from them that they would desist from coming to preach at Colne, they were allowed to leave the house. As soon as they got outside, ‘‘ the mob closed in upon them, and tossed them about with great violence, throwing Grimshaw down, and covering both of them with mire, there being no one to come to their rescue. The people who had assembled to hear the word of God were treated with even greater cruelty. They had to run for their lives, amidst showers of dirt and stones, and no regard was paid to either sex or age. Some were trampled in the mire; others dragged by the hair; and many were unmercifully beaten with clubs. One was forced to leap from a rock, ten or twelve feet high, into the river, to prevent being thrown in headlong. When he crawled out, wet and bruised, they swore they would throw him in again, and were with difficulty prevented from executing their threat. White, well-pleased, was watching his mad followers all this time without a word to stay them.”*

None of these things moved the lion-hearted incumbent of Haworth. Not long afterwards he went to Colne again, and was again shamefully treated—pelted with mud and dirt, and dragged violently along the road. In the following year, 1749, he published a long reply to White’s sermon, extending to eighty-six pages, in which he powerfully and triumphantly refuted White’s charges.t

Persecution of this rough kind was not the only hard measure that Grimshaw had to undergo in consequence of his extra-parochial evangelism. He was more than once called to account for his conduct by the Archbishop of York, and seems to have escaped suspension or deprivation in a most marvellous manner.

On one occasion “a charge was preferred against him for having preached in a licensed meeting-house at Leeds. Had proof been forthcoming to substantiate the charge, he would have been dismissed from his cure for irregularity. Though no

* See Hardy’s “‘ Life of Grimshaw,” p. 82.

{ White must have been a very extreme specimen of the careless, worthless clergyman of the last century. He was educated at Douay College for the Romish priesthood, and after his recantation was recommended for preferment to the vicar of Whalley, by Archbishop Potter. He frequently abandoned his parish for weeks together; and, on one occasion, is said to have read the funeral-service more than twenty times ina single night over the dead bodies that had been buried in his absence! He died at Langroyd in 1751; and it is pleasant to record, that he is said to have sent for Grimshaw on his death-bed, an.l expressed his sorrow for the part he took in the riotous proceedings above described. act of delinquency was proved, he was obliged to promise the archbishop that he would not preach in any place that had been licensed for the worship of dissenters; while he repeated his determination to continue preaching abroad so long as there were souls for whom no one seemed to care. On another occasion, when accused of preaching out of his own parish, he was asked by the archbishop, ‘How many communicants had you when you first came to Haworth?’ He answered, ‘ Twelve, my lord.’ ‘How many have you now ?’ was the next question. The reply was, ‘In the winter, from three to four hundred; and in the summer, near twelve hundred.’ On _ hearing this the archbishop expressed his approbation, and said, ‘We cannot find fault with Mr. Grimshaw when he is instrumental in bringing so many persons to the Lord’s Table.’”*

On another occasion, “‘ when complaint was made to the archbishop of his ramblings and intrusions into other men’s folds, the archbishop announced his intention to hold a confirmation-service in Mr. Grimshaw’s church, and to have an interview with him on the occasion. On the day appointed they met in Haworth vestry, and while the clergy and laity were assembling in great numbers, the following conversation took place: ‘I have heard,’ said the archbishop, ‘many extraordinary reports respecting your conduct, Mr. Grimshaw. It has been stated to me that you not only preach in private houses in your parish, but also travel up and down, and preach where you have a mind, without consulting your diocesan or the clergy into whose parishes you obtrude your labours; and that your discourses are very loose; that, in fact, you can and do preach about anything. That I may be able to judge for myself, both of your doctrine and manner of stating it, I give you notice that I shall expect you to preach before me and the clergy present in two hours hence, and from the text which I am about to name.’ After repeating the text, the archbishop added: ‘Sr,

* Hardy’s ‘‘ Life of Grimshaw,” p. 232. you may now retire, and make what preparation you can while I confirm the young people.’ —‘ My lord,’ said Grimshaw, looking out of the vestry-door into the church, ‘see what multitudes of people are here! Why should the order of the service be reversed, and the congregation kept out of the sermon for two hours?* Send a clergyman to read prayers, and I will begin immediately.” After prayers Mr. Grimshaw ascended the pulpit, and began an extempore prayer for the archbishop, the people, and the young persons about to be confirmed, and wrestled with God for his assistance and blessing, until the congregation, the clergy, and the archbishop himself, were moved to tears. After the service was over, the clergy gathered round the archbishop to ascertain what proceedings he intended to adopt in order to restrain the preacher from such rash and extemporaneous expositions of God’s Word. ‘To their surprise the archbishop, taking Mr. Grmshaw by the hand, said with a tremulous voice, ‘I would to God that all the clergy in my diocese were like this good man!’ Mr. Grimshaw afterwards observed to a party of friends who came to take tea with him that evening, ‘I did expect to be turned out of my parish on this occasion; but if I had been I would have joined my friend John Wesley, taken my saddle-bags and gone to one of his poorest circuits.’ T

It is impossible to turn from this part of Grimshaw’s history without feelings of righteous indignation. There is something revolting in the idea of a holy and zealous minister of the Church of England being persecuted for overstepping the bounds of ecclesiastical etiquette, while hundreds of clergymen were let alone and undisturbed whose lives and doctrine were beneath contempt. All over England country livings were often filled by hunting, shooting, gambling, drinking, card-playing, swear-

* Tt is evident that the confirmation described in this story must have been held on a Sunday. t From Strachan’s “ Life of Rev. G. Lowe,” a Methodist minister. ing, ignorant clergymen, who cared neither for law nor gospel, and utterly neglected their parishes. When they did preach, they either preached to empty benches, or else “the hungry sheep looked up and were not fed.’ And yet these men lived under their own vines and fig-trees enjoying great quietness, untouched by bishops, eating the fat of the land, and calling themselves the true supporters of the Church! But the moment a man rose up like Grimshaw, who gloried in the Articles, Liturgy, and Homilies, and preached the Gospel, he was treated like a felon and malefactor, and his name cast out as evil! Truly God’s patience with the Church of England a hundred years ago was something marvellous. Marvellous that he did not remove our candlestick altogether! Marvellous that he granted her such a revival, and raised up so many burning and shining lights amongst her ministers!

To talk of Grimshaw being no Churchman and being an enemy to the Church of England, is preposterous and absurd. If attachment to the standards and formularies of his own communion is a mark of Churchmanship, he was a Churchman in the truest sense. No doubt he loved all who loved Jesus Christ in sincerity. No doubt he made nothing of parochial boundaries when souls were perishing, and other clergymen neglected their duties. But to the day of his death he was a steady adherent of the Church in which he had been ordained, used her services devoutly and regularly, and did more for her real interests than any clergyman in the north of England. One of his biographers specially mentions “ that he greatly admired the Homilies, and regarded their disuse, and neglect of the Thirty-nine Articles, as the chief occasion of all the mischief to the Church, believing it probable that if they had been constantly read Methodism would never have appeared.” He said once, that an old clergyman of his acquaintance, being asked by his curate if he might read the Homilies in the pulpit,

answered “ No! for if you should do so, the whole congregation (195) 9 would turn Methodists.” On another occasion he wrote to Charles Wesley the following remarkable words: “I see nothing so materially amiss in the liturgy, or the Church constitution, as to disturb my conscience or justify my separation. No: where shall I go to mend myself? I believe the Church of England to be the soundest, purest, and most apostolical national Christian Church in the world. Therefore I can in good conscience (as I am determined, God willing, to do) live and die in her.” Yet this is the man who, some dare to tell us, was no Churchman!

Grimshaw’s holy and useful career was brought to an end on the 7th of April 1763. He died in his own house at Haworth of a putrid fever, in the fifty-fifth year of his age and the twenty first of his ministry at Haworth. The fever of which he died had been raging in his parish from the beginning of the year, and had proved fatal to many of the inhabitants. ‘‘ On its first breaking out,” says Hardy, “he had a presentiment that it would prove fatal to some member of his family, and had exhorted all to be ready.” When visiting a parishioner he caught the prevailing epidemic, and at once predicted that he would not recover.

To the physician who attended him “he expressed in strong terms the humiliating feelings he had on a retrospect of his whole life, and how disproportionate, defective, and defiled his best services had been, compared with the obligation under which he felt himself, and the importance of the cause in which he had been engaged; and that he hoped, if the Lord should prolong his days and raise him up, to be much more active and diligent.”

To his friend and brother in the gospel, the Rev. Mr. Ingham, he said: ‘My last enemy is come! The signs of death are upon me. But I am not afraid. No! no! Blessed be God, my hope is sure, and I am in his hands.” Afterwards, when Mr. Ingham prayed for the lengthening of his life, that he might yet be useful to Christ’s cause, he said, “Alas! what have my wretched services been? I have now need to cry, at the end of my unprofitable course, God be merciful to mea sinner!” At another time, laying his hand on his heart, he said, “I am quite exhausted; but I shall soon be at home—for ever with the Lord—a poor miserable sinner redeemed by his blood.”

His valued fellow-labourer, the Rev. Henry Venn, then vicar of Huddersfield, came over to see him from Huddersfield, and asked him how he felt. To him he replied, “‘ Never had I such a visit from God since I first knew him. I am as happy as I can be on earth, and as sure of glory as if I were in it.” After this, finding that his disease was peculiarly infectious and dangerous, he requested his friends to visit him as little as possible. But his peace and hope are reported to have continued unshaken to the end. As he lived so he died, rejoicing in Christ Jesus, and putting no confidence in the flesh.”

He was buried, by his own desire, by the side of his first wife in the chancel of Luddenden Church, in the valley of the Calder, not far from Haworth. Like Joseph, “he gave commandment concerning his bones.” He had drawn up full and particular directions about his funeral long before he was taken ill, and these directions were carefully followed. The number of attendants was to be twenty, ‘religious or relative friends, or both.” He would have only a plain, poor man’s burial suit, and a plain, poor man’s coffin of elm boards, with the words on the cover, “To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” All the way to the church suitable verses were to be sung, in various selected metres and tunes, out of the 23rd, 39th, and gist Psalms, and also suitable hymns. One of the attendants, at least, was to be a Methodist preacher, and he was to preach a funeral sermon from the text on his coffin (Phil. i. 21). The Methodist preacher selected for the occasion was his old friend and fellow-labourer, Henry Venn.* The church at Luddenden was too small to contain the immense congregation which assembled, and the preacher had to take his position in the grave-yard. ‘Tradition reports,” says Hardy, “that Venn’s voice rose like the swell of a full-toned bell as he told forth the virtues of his departed friend, and exhorted the people to follow him as he had followed Christ.” Never, indeed, had any man a more honourable burial. Like Stephen, “‘ devout men carried him to his grave, and made great lamentation over him.” He had, as Venn well remarks, “ what is more ennobling than all the pomp of solemn dirges, or of a royal funeral. He was followed to the tomb by a great multitude, who beheld his corpse with affectionate sighs and many tears, and who cannot still hear his much-loved name without weeping for the guide of their souls.”

Grimshaw was twice married, and twice left a widower. His first wife was Sarah, daughter of John Lockwood of Ewood Hall. She had been twice married before, first to William Sutcliffe of Scaitcliffe Hall, and secondly to John Ramsden, both of whom died without children. He was evidently greatly attached to his first wife, and her death, on the 1st of November 1739, made a deep impression on him. His second wife was Elizabeth, daughter of Henry Cockcroft of Mayroyd, near Hebden Bridge. I can find no record of the date of her death.

Grimshaw had only two children, both by his first wife, a son and a daughter. His daughter died when only twelve years old, when at school at Kingswood, near Bristol. Charles Wesley says that “she departed in the Lord.” His son survived his father only three years, and died childless. During his father’s lifetime he had been careless and intemperate, and the cause of great grief. When he visited him on his death-

* All evangelical clergymen of the Church of England used to be called ‘ Methodists” a hundred years ago. bed, Grimshaw told him to take care what he did, as he was not fit to die. ‘To him also he used the remarkable words that “his body felt lke a boiling vessel, but his soul was as happy as it could be made by God.” John Grimshaw died at Ewood on the 17th May 1766, and by God’s great mercy there was hope in his death. His father’s dying words perhaps sunk into his heart, and at any rate his father’s many prayers for him were heard. After his father’s death, he used to ride a horse which formerly belonged to him, and one day meeting an inhabitant of Haworth, the man remarked, “I see you are riding the old parson’s horse.”—“ Yes,” was the reply; “ once he carried a great saint, and now he carries'a great sinner.” Long before his death young Grimshaw had given clear evidence of repentance unto salvation, and found pardon and peace in Christ; and a little time before he died, he was heard to exclaim, ‘ What will my old father say when he sees I have got to heaven ?”