ADDRESS OF THE MINISTER OF MADELEY TO THE INHABITANTS OF MADELEY WOOD AND
ITS VICINITY.
Vicarage, March 23, 1822.
My endeared Parishioners,
THE very kind reception given to the Address which I circulated among the
inhabitants of Coalbrookdale and its vicinity, and the feelings of mutual
love and affection it has been the means of eliciting, encourage me to
hope that a similar appeal to yourselves will be attended with equally
beneficial results.
The principal reason of my now addressing you, is, that I have very
painfully witnessed, within the short space of two or three weeks, a
great increase of party spirit arising from the measures recently adopted
towards forming and carrying on a Sunday school separate and distinct
from that which has so long been established among us. The natural
consequences of such procedures, I am willing to hope, you did not
sufficiently estimate, or I can hardly imagine you would so hastily, and
at such a time, have adopted them. You are sensible, I think, that my
wish is for peace; that my great desire is, that love may not only
prevail, but abound more and more; and that I am striving to pursue that
line of conduct, which, as a consistent minister of the Established
Church, devolves upon me, so as not to give the least unnecessary offence
to others. Permit me, then, to ask, whether these recent measures are at
all likely to produce such pacific results? Do they not rather tend to
range more decidedly than ever under distinct and separate parties, not
only the superintendents and teachers, but likewise the parents of the
children themselves? Do they not in some measure force persons to
declare themselves on one side or other, and that not merely in opinion,
but likewise in decisive action? And are not the individuals, thus
compelled to declare themselves, regarded with suspicion by those who
move in contrary directions? I would inquire, then, is all this
calculated to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace? And are
those individuals our best friends who are most earnest in this work of
alienation? I mean no personal allusions, I assure you, to any
individual among you: I hope I very sincerely love you all; and I wish
that bonds of union may be multiplied, which may bring us closer and
closer together, instead of these cords of separation which, drawing in
other directions, will every day remove us to a greater and yet greater
distance.
Permit me also to ask whether this is the time for such exertions? If
indeed your minister were sleeping at his post; if he were lying down,
and loving to slumber; if the schools happened to be on the decline in
respect of numbers, or in regard to the insufficiency of superintendents
or teachers; if scarcely anything were going forward adequate to the
necessities of the parish; then, indeed, such exertions might be called
for. But how contrary is all this to the real state of the case! It is
at a time when the schools are so crowded as to render it impossible to
instruct them in the usual place: it is at a time when, to afford greater
facilities of instruction, the larger schools are being divided into
twenty or thirty minor schools, and these so situated as to be almost at
the door of every child in the parish, and so arranged as to admit of
every one being taught who is capable of instruction. You will readily
perceive, then, that the stir which is making at present, is by no means
called for in the existing necessities of the case. To what, then, must
it be attributed? It is commonly reported that it arises from a fear
entertained by some, lest my present plans and procedures should attach
too many children to the Established Church, and thus eventually make
them Churchmen instead of Methodists. This reason, however, I feel I
ought by no means to admit; for, whatever may be said of others, the
Methodists of the parish of Madeley have long made it their boast that
they were firm in their attachment to our venerable Church: and so strong
has been their attachment, that the majority of them would never listen
to any proposals of having their services so conducted as at all to
interfere with the services of the church, and would never permit the
sacrament to be administered in their chapels; and there are many who
feel a secret satisfaction in being able to state, that they have never
yet partaken of the sacred ordinance, excepting from a clergyman; and
they are still determined that no one shall ever make this their
consistent glorying to be in vain. {146} It is with peculiar
satisfaction, that I consider my relation to such individuals; and I
assure you, I rejoice over you as my parishioners; I point you out as an
example to others; and I hope we shall never see the time when the
parishioners, and more especially the spiritual sons and daughters of the
venerable and apostolic Mr. Fletcher, shall cease to be identified with
that Church of which he was so bright an ornament, as well as minister.
I feel, therefore, that it would be the height of injustice to suppose,
that the mass of such of my people as are termed Methodists have any fear
of their children becoming members of the Established Church; nay, they
would rather rejoice in it;—they rejoice in it even now;—and some of them
go so far as even to recommend it. They tell their children, in the
fulness of their Catholic spirit, that their own attachment to the people
with whom they are joined, never arose from dissatisfaction to the
Church, but from a natural love to the private means which their own
people at that time so exclusively possessed. But they add, that as
these same private means are now offered to them in connexion with the
Established Church, they would advise them to join themselves with its
respected members; and hence it is, that not a few among our classes are
the sons and daughters of such honoured individuals. I say honoured, for
who can withhold from such the proper meed of approbation; for such heal
the breaches of our Zion, they build up its waste places; they repair the
desolations of many generations.
I am aware, however, that the same extent of feeling is not cherished by
all. Some prefer their own communion, their own instructors, and
classes. But I have heard such with the greatest candour acknowledge,
that their predilection arose merely from the circumstance that they
happened to receive their first religious good among them; and that
notwithstanding this their preference, they very highly respect the
Church, and that they wish its ministers abundant success in their very
important work. And this I am persuaded is the feeling of ninety-nine
out of a hundred of the Methodists who compose my parish. The welcome
they invariably give me when I enter their houses or cottages; the smile
of approbation which brightens on their countenance when we exchange
salutations as we pass; and the liberality which they discover in all
points of possible difference whenever they are accidentally touched
upon: all these things convince me that they have no hostility either to
the Church or to myself, and of course that they would not willingly
enter upon any plan which might have the least semblance of opposition.
To what, then, some will still ask, must these procedures connected with
the schools be attributed? I feel, I confess, somewhat at a loss to
determine. I hope, however, that they have arisen merely from a
well-meant, though certainly an ill-timed, zeal—a zeal, likewise, which
has a direct tendency, though not previously estimated, to promote
disunion among us, and a diminution of loving Christian feelings. But
whatever may have been the cause of these procedures, I do hope, that the
serious evils which are beginning as a consequence to break forth, will
not only be checked, but entirely subside; and that all parties,
superintendents, teachers, and parents, will each in their respective
stations be ready to show that they are not among the last to bring about
so desirable an issue.
And now, with very sincere affection, believe me, my much-endeared
Parishioners,
Your faithful Friend and Minister,
GEORGE MORTIMER.
* * * * *
The following simple narrative, related by his attached and faithful
servant Fanny, also beautifully displays the very kind and earnest,
though very decided, character of the excellent pastor of Madeley.
“Some of the beer shops at the Iron Bridge used to be kept open very
late at night, and master was determined to put a stop to their being
open later than ten o’clock. He used to go to them, and turn out all
the men that were drinking in them after that time. This enraged
some of these men so much, that they declared they would kill master;
for they said, ‘they were determined that no parson should interfere
with them.’ Some of master’s friends heard of this, and told him,
and tried to persuade him not to go to the Iron Bridge the next
night; and Mr. and Mrs. Thomas did not wish him to go; and we all
begged him to stay at home that night; but he told us he was not at
all afraid of the men, and when I said that they would be sure to do
him some harm, he said, ‘Why, Fanny, they have no power over me to
hurt me; the Almighty is above them.’ So master went to the public
house, and saw the very men that had threatened to kill him, and he
talked to them for a long time, and told them that they ought to have
been at home with their families, and that he hoped he should never
see them there again. He spoke so kindly, that they all listened to
him, and never offered to hurt him; and when he had done talking to
them, they told him, that they had fully determined to make an attack
upon him that night, but that _then_ they felt as if they had no
power to hurt him. So master shook hands with them all, and then
they all took off their hats and wished him ‘safe home,’ and ‘long
life to him.’ And they were never there again after ten o’clock; and
I think what master said to them then, did one or two of them so much
good, that they afterwards became pious.”
Mr. Mortimer was equally desirous of putting a stop to the desecration of
the Lord’s day by the bargemen on the River Severn, and, for this
purpose, he tried every means to prevent the barges from sailing on the
Sunday. In doing this, he experienced great opposition from some of the
barge owners, who purposely, as it appeared, kept their vessels locked at
Coalport at the latter end of the week, and released them on the Sunday.
At length Mr. M. was compelled to take them before the magistrates, and
have them fined, by which means he succeeded in entirely putting a stop
to this desecration.
He exerted himself also to have the law enforced against keeping open the
public houses and beer shops during the time of divine service.
He took pains to prevent the children from playing about the roads and
fields on the Sunday, and to secure the orderly behaviour of the Sunday
scholars in going to and returning from the Sunday schools. There were
at one period six hundred children in the different schools in the parish
of Madeley.
The class meetings consisted of six; one for women, conducted by Mrs.
Mortimer, and the other five by Mr. M. Once a quarter, the six classes
met at one place. Mr. Mortimer’s object in having these class meetings,
though he evidently considered them as auxiliary to the public ordinances
of religion, was to prevent the serious members of his congregation from
joining the Methodists, which he had constantly found to be the case at
Wellington.
The following token of affectionate esteem was, no doubt, very acceptable
to the feelings of Mr. Mortimer, not so much from the worth of it, as
from the motive which gave rise to it—a motive at once honourable to the
hearts of the donors and to the character of the receiver. This token
was a handsome octavo Bible, bound in morocco, inscribed on one side,
“To the Rev. George Mortimer, M.A.
A Token of Christian Regard
From the Male Class, meeting under his care at Lincoln-hill,
1817.”
And on the other side,
“With a sincere desire that the rich promises contained herein may be
his consolation through life, and his support in death.”
The following anecdote may, perhaps, be more suitably introduced here
than elsewhere, because, in all probability, it was during his residence
at Madeley that the fact recorded took place, though it was not related
to his daughter, who communicated it to me, before the winter of 1842–3,
during a sleigh-drive with her father, while descending a hill, which was
in a dangerous state, owing to its slipperiness and to there being no
barrier on the one side which was the edge of a precipice.
“K— and I (and perhaps a third person, but I am not sure about that)
were travelling from Wellington to Madeley in a post chaise. When we
were about to descend a precipitous hill, something seemed to say to
me, ‘Pray, you are in danger.’ I resisted the impression, and said
to myself, it is all nonsense; I will not give way to superstitious
fears. Again the warning was impressed on my mind, and I then paused
and lifted up my heart in prayer to God. I had no sooner done so,
than I heard the postillion contending with his horses, which were
plunging into the hedge on one side of the road; then they dashed to
the other side, and it appeared as though we should have been
precipitated over the side of the hill; but we reached the bottom in
safety. I then said to K—, ‘I will tell you what has been passing in
my mind,’ and related to him all the circumstances. K— then told me,
that just at the same time, as he supposed from my description of the
spot, the same thing was suggested to his mind, and that at first he
repelled the suggestion, but afterwards yielded to it; but that he
had not the honesty to confess the circumstance till I had done so.
I know K— well, and feel perfectly assured that he would tell me
nothing but the truth; and from the remarkable circumstance of the
suggestion being made to the minds of both of us, I cannot, but
believe it was an intimation from above of our danger and of the
necessity of prayer. For, although his angels are always at hand to
succour us in danger, yet God has been pleased to make prayer a
necessary means for obtaining their aid. When I am in my grave, tell
this for the benefit of others as an encouragement to prayer.”
My dear young friend and god-daughter adds, “I was very much impressed by
the charge with which my dear father concluded, and, that I might be the
better able to fulfil it, I wrote down the whole relation when I returned
home, of which the above is a copy.”
I very gladly comply with a hope expressed by Mr. Mortimer’s eldest
daughter that I will insert in the memoir of her dear father, a letter
addressed to her by him when she was about ten years of age; and, as it
was written during his residence at Madeley, I insert it here before we
take leave of that place:—
“We returned to Madeley on the evening of last Thursday week; and I
am thankful to state that we have all of us received considerable
benefit from our journey. Your brothers and sisters seemed to enjoy
themselves exceedingly. The latter part of the time we were joined
by your uncle, who spent about eight days with us; and having hired a
car for that time capable of holding eight or nine persons, we were
enabled to see all that was worth seeing in the neighbourhood. We
often wished that you and C— had been with us in our excursions; but
more particularly while we were going over the castle of Aberconway,
for it struck us as conveying one of the most perfect ideas of both
the extent and uses of a castle of any we could recollect to have
seen. The town also is surrounded by a strong and turretted wall,
and gives a good notion of a walled city, such as we read of as
connected with former times.
“We greatly prefer Glan y don to Barmouth. It is about six miles
from Abergeley, in Denbighshire, North Wales. It is situated in a
delightful recess termed Llandrillo Bay, and the scenery all around
is picturesque in the extreme. Such a pleasing combination of the
sublime and beautiful I have seldom seen. The sea-shore, however,
after all, presented us with the chief attractions. I collected and
fixed the names of many of our English shells, and that also in a
state far more perfect than before. I began also a collection of
marine plants. These I shall have pleasure in showing to you when
you return home. You will be surprised, perhaps, when I tell you
that they amount to upwards of sixty different sorts, and these are
exceedingly few in comparison of those I should have met with had we
been there a longer time, or had we waited for the equinoctial winds,
which, perhaps you know, bring the greatest quantity of marine
substances to the shore, tearing them from the rocks to which they
adhere and grow.
“A— begins to learn the names of a few of the more common shells, and
was much pleased with making an incipient collection. He has
purchased some plain cards, and, after dividing them by pencil marks
into regular departments, he pasted his specimens upon them; and I
think you will say, they look tolerably well.
“Your aunt — stopped with us about a fortnight after you left us, and
I accompanied her up to London. The only coach, which we could with
any convenience go by, was principally occupied by nine convicts, who
were being conveyed from Shrewsbury to London, previous to
transportation; and, during the night, two of them were in the coach
with your aunt and myself. These were two of the most noted
pickpockets belonging to a Shrewsbury gang, and, as you will readily
suppose, we were not at first much disposed to relish their company.
But, as they were ironed and exceedingly well-behaved, we soon got
reconciled to them, and were not a little interested in the
observation of this novel description of character. It presented,
however, a melancholy admixture of ingenuity and depravity.
“You will be sorry to hear that during our absence at the sea, poor
Mr. P— died. He dropped down suddenly while standing in the
rope-walk, and never spoke afterwards. He was advanced in years and
his death was expected; but still, in such an uncertain world as
this, who can be secure? May we all be fully prepared when our
summons shall arrive.
“You inquire concerning H. He began his letters while we were at
Glan y don; but I cannot say any great things as to his proficiency.
Within these few days we have permitted him to dine at our table, and
he has behaved so very well that we intend he should continue to do
so for the future. L. and P., for nearly a month past, have been
introduced to our morning family prayer, and I am happy to state that
they conduct themselves with much propriety.”
After spending about eighteen months at Yardley, near Birmingham,
exchanging duties with the vicar of that parish, Mr. Mortimer finally
left Madeley and removed to Clifton, August 30, 1826; but the situation
not being in accordance with his retired habits, he took a house at
Horfield, whither he removed on the 10th of October of the same year.
From this place was written the letter of which the following is an
extract, bearing date, January 17, 1827.