The words of the Royal Friend who once or twice visited Gidding in person stand at the
commencement of this sketch, and sufficiently prove what was his estimate of Ferrar and his works.
It may be easily conjectured, however, that this unusual life, conducted by a man so well known as Ferrar, attracted a great deal of attention—and that in the days when religious differences prevailed to a sad extent, there were many persons eager enough not only to find fault, but to misrepresent what was done by this family; who, to say the least, did a great deal of good to their poorer neighbours, and did harm to no one. But a closer acquaintance with Mr. Ferrar generally dispelled the calumnies which report had spread of him and his ways. And one gentleman who went to Gidding purposely to make out their case as bad as possible, came away full of their praises.
In the end, however, their enemies prevailed; for the Puritan soldiers (about the time of King Charles’s death) did drive the family away, ransacked the church, plundered the house, and destroyed many very valuable books and manuscripts, and, in fact, everything that had been left behind in a somewhat hasty flight. It is related that the organ excited their anger more than anything, and that they relieved their feelings by
breaking it up, setting it on fire, and then roasting some of Mr. Ferrar’s sheep over it.
But he was not spared to see these distressful times himself, as he died in December, 1637, having lived at Gidding about twelve years. The accounts of his last illness are very interesting, as throwing a strong light on his intensely religious character. In November, 1637, on his return from the little church, he had an attack of faintness, and never afterwards left the house. He knew from the first that he would not recover, and said to those around him, “In former sickness I have had a strong desire to live, and an earnestness to pray to my God to spare me, which He hath to this day done, when all hopes of life were past by the judgments of the most skilful physicians; and I may further say to the Glory of His great name, I never earnestly set myself to beg of God anything, but He fulfilled the petition of His most unworthy servant. But now and of late, I have not, nor do not find in my heart any inclination to beg longer life.”
During his illness he continually exhorted the family that they should “constantly adhere to the doctrine of the Church of England, and to continue in the good old way;” he forewarned them of
coming oppositions and of danger and trouble, and urged them to shrink not to rely on God, to serve Him with soul and body, for “He made both, and both must worship Him in sincerity of devotion.” “He will have both inward love, and outward reverence of body and gesture.”
About three days before his death, he made John Ferrar mark out the place for his grave seven feet from the west end of the church, leaving space for his elder brother’s grave nearest the church. He then directed that all the books of comedies, tragedies, love-hymns, etc. (three great hampers full, which had been locked up for many years), should be burnt on the place marked for his grave. There were many hundreds in various languages, which he had collected when a young man, but which he had abjured as dangerous, full of idolatry, and apt to undermine the Christian religion.
He retained full power of mind, and suffered no pain throughout the whole illness, and passed away at one o’clock on the Sunday night, the very hour that he constantly rose up every morning to praise God, and to pray unto Him.