Fletcher of Madeley

by Frederic W. Macdonald

The Conference was over in a week, but Fletcher still remained in the neighbourhood of Leeds. Another, and to him a still more important, matter was occupying his thoughts. It had reference to Miss Bosanquet, the lady named in Mr. Benson's letter. A very brief account of one who deserves, and has received, ample biographic honours, must here suffice. Mary Bosanquet was a lady of good family and considerable fortune, to whom belongs an eminence among the godly women of Methodism, analogous to that of Fletcher among his associates. At a very early age, and partly through the influence of a maidservant, she became an earnest Christian. As she grew up she passed through much conflict and sorrow from the opposition of her parents. They were well-meaning but worldly people, and were disappointed and annoyed at their daughter's distaste for balls and theatres, and at her generally impracticable religious convictions. They endeavoured to secure her promise that she would never, either then or thereafter, attempt to make her brothers "what she called Christians." Upon her saying that she dared not consent to that, her father replied, "Then you force me to put you out of my house." A kind of agreement was soon afterwards come to, that she should take lodgings in Hoxton, and visit her parents from time to time; and at twenty-one years of age, accompanied by her maid, she left her home, literally for Christ's sake. A year or two later she removed to Leytonstone, to a house of her own, not far from her father's residence. Here she gathered around her a family of poor women and orphan children, who were supported at her expense, and taught, trained, and employed according to their capacity. It was her desire to form a household in which the glory of God should be the supreme end and aim, and for many years her efforts were crowned with success. Peace, piety, and simple order ruled the little community. Wesley was particularly interested in her plan, and delighted with its results. It reminded him of what he had seen many years before in the orphan house at Halle, and among the brethren at Herrnhut. It was akin to his own endeavour at Kingswood. In his "Journal" he refers to it in the following terms: "It is exactly Pietas Hallensis in miniature.... I rode over to Leytonstone, and found one truly Christian family: that is, what that at Kingswood should be, and would, if it had such governors.... I preached at Leytonstone. Oh what a house of God is here! not only for decency and order, but for the life and power of religion! I am afraid there are very few such to be found in all the king's dominions."

In addition to the guidance of her household, Miss Bosanquet held services in her kitchen, at which she read and expounded the Scriptures to such of her poor neighbours as were willing to come. A Methodist class-meeting was formed, and from time to time an itinerant preacher would come and minister to the little flock. From early morning till night there was nothing but hard and homely toil, frugal meals, frequent religious meetings, and ever-recurring prayer and praise. Thus devoting her time, her strength, her fortune to Christ and to the poor,

"She filled her odorous lamp with deeds of light,
And hope that reaps not shame."

There was no lack of hindrances and discouragements, however, from within and from without. Many of the children suffered from painful diseases, the result of poverty and neglect. Others distressed her with the evil habits they had brought with them. Her relatives spoke of her as of one who was out of her right mind. Some of her critics declared that she was bringing up the children for nuns; others said her plans savoured too much of carnal wisdom; while others again charged her with idleness. Persons well-disposed and ill-disposed poured upon her their conflicting counsels and reproofs; and, as if the brave, lonely woman had not enough to bear, a crowd of rough men and boys would collect at the gate, when nights were dark, to throw dirt at the people as they went out from the meetings, and would afterwards come into the yard, and, putting their faces to a window which had no shutters, would roar and howl like wild beasts.

From Leytonstone Miss Bosanquet removed into Yorkshire, and settled at Gildersome, a village near Leeds, where she bought land and built a house. Here she continued for many years her self-denying labours and let the steady light of a holy life shine, to the comfort and edification of many. It is not necessary to tell the story in detail; it may be enough to say that while thus living for others, her fortune was melting away, partly through injudicious generosity, and partly through the blunders of those who helped and advised her in the management of her affairs. From these causes, to which might be added the unconscionable demands of some whom she assisted, she was brought to financial embarrassment and great anxiety. At the time of Fletcher's return to England her difficulties seemed to be coming to a crisis. She saw nothing for it but to sell her Yorkshire property for what it would fetch, and with the proceeds pay off her debts as far as possible, and meet the remainder from the small income still coming to her from Leytonstone. It was at this juncture that she received an offer of marriage from Fletcher.

He was now fifty-two years of age, and Miss Bosanquet ten years younger. They had known one another for five-and-twenty years, though for the greater part of that time there was no direct intercourse between them. From their first acquaintance they had been attracted to one another. Fletcher had confessed to Charles Wesley that "Miss Bosanquet's image at one time pursued him," and that he should perhaps have lost his peace of mind if he had not betaken himself to prayer, and to a serious consideration of the reasons against matrimony. In spite of the victory thus gained, there is little doubt that her image pursued him through the following years. She, on her part, confides to her diary that a feeling "that she might be called to marry Mr. Fletcher" would now and again come to her mind. She found much help and comfort in his writings. In her troubles she thought of him as "one who might perhaps be sent to her aid." She dwelt upon "some little acts of friendship in our first acquaintance," and then put the pleasant thoughts away, lest they should be a snare to her. She resolved "never to do the least thing towards a renewal of their correspondence." And so for fifteen years they never met, each of them meanwhile passing through much affliction, and needing the very help which the other could have supplied.

To Fletcher's scrupulous sense of honour, Miss Bosanquet's fortune was an effectual barrier between them. That the possession of wealth should attract unworthy suitors is nothing unusual,—it is a constantly recurring source of danger to well-dowered women; but the danger of its repelling the worthy suitor, and so keeping those apart who are best fitted for each other, although much rarer, is perhaps even more difficult to deal with. In such cases some sort of mediation seems desirable, though it is generally impracticable. What was wanted in this instance was, in our judgment, that some one—say Wesley, or his brother Charles—should have said to Fletcher and to Miss Bosanquet the half dozen words explanatory of each other's sentiments that would have removed all difficulty, and given them twenty years of happy married life instead of four.

It is remarkable that when Fletcher made his offer of marriage to Miss Bosanquet he had not seen her for fifteen years. There was no previous renewal of the acquaintance, no gradual growth of intimacy and affection, no preliminaries of any kind. His proposal came unheralded and unexpected, and was at once accepted. It is clear that the needful preparation had been made on both sides long ago. There was the sudden removal of hindrances, real or imagined: that was all.

One of his letters to Miss Bosanquet, written during their engagement, has lately been published by Mr. Tyerman.[12] It is a true love-letter, and in no way unworthy of its writer. Others lie before us now. They are written with the utmost freedom and simplicity, and show a warm and tender affection, with a chivalrous admiration for the woman soon to become his wife. The gentle-spirited, lonely man rejoices in his new-found happiness. "Surely," he writes to her, "a human creature alone is but half himself. And yet how many, for want of having made the comparison, glory in their loss! I will do so no more." This is a touch of nature that the reader will appreciate; more particularly if he has been at the trouble of reading the "reasons against matrimony" that have been alluded to. But we refrain from further quotation. On the whole, we think it right to respect the privacy of Fletcher's love-letters. They were written for one reader, and for one only. By her they were sacredly preserved through the thirty years of her widowhood, and then, chiefly, we imagine, because she could not bring herself to destroy them, they passed into the keeping of a dear and trusted friend. To remain in the keeping of friends, and not to be published to the world is, in our judgment, their proper destiny.

We are, however, much indebted to Mr. Tyerman for bringing to light the letter in which Fletcher asked the consent of Miss Bosanquet's uncle and trustee, Mr. Claudius Bosanquet, to his marriage with his niece. It is a most important piece of autobiography. We have so far availed ourselves of it in the course of this narrative that the whole need not be given here. But the following will be read with interest: