Here, and in all the country societies round about, he found an increase of members, and more of the life and power of religion among them, than he had ever found before. The boundaries of the Newcastle circuit were,—Allandale on the west, Sunderland on the east, Berwick on the north, and Osmotherley on the south,[22]—an immense tract of country, situated in, at least, four different counties. This Wesley traversed, preaching, visiting classes, and founding societies.
Having spent more than five weeks among these northern Methodists, Wesley, on the 16th of August, started southwards, taking Grace Murray with him, to whom he had proposed marriage. During the first day’s journey, he preached at Stockton, near the market place, “to a very large and very rude congregation;” again in the market place at Yarm; and again, in the midst of a continuous rain, in the street at Osmotherley.
Proceeding to Wakefield, he became the guest of Francis Scott, a local preacher, part of whose joiner’s shop was used as a preaching room.[23] Thence he went to Halifax, where he attempted to preach at the market cross to “an immense number of people, roaring like the waves of the sea.” A man threw money among the crowd, creating great disturbance. Wesley was besmeared with dirt, and had his cheek laid open by a stone. Finding it impossible to make himself heard, he adjourned to a meadow near Salterhebble, and spent an hour with those that followed him “in rejoicing and praising God.”[24] He then went to Bradford, where the only person who misbehaved was the parish curate.
At Haworth, even at five o’clock in the morning, the church was nearly filled. Grimshaw read prayers, and Wesley preached. A Methodist society was already formed, as appears from the following item in the Haworth society book:—“1748, Jan. 10: A pair of boots for William Darney, 14s. 0d.”[25] Grimshaw was now as much a Methodist as Wesley was, with this difference, the former had a church, the latter not.
For six years, Grimshaw had been incumbent of Haworth. His church was crowded, and no wonder. In the surrounding hamlets, he was accustomed to preach from twelve to thirty sermons weekly. His congregations were rude and rough; but they caught the fervour of his spirit, and hundreds of his hearers were converted. He loved labour, and, for his Master’s sake, cheerfully encountered hard living. One day he would be the guest of Lady Huntingdon; at another time, he would be found sleeping in his own hayloft, simply to find room for strangers in his parsonage. In all sorts of weather, upon the bleak mountains, often drenched by rain, or benumbed by frost, with no regular meals, and frequently nothing better than a crust, he never wearied in his evangelistic wanderings, but pursued his onward course with a blithesome spirit, singing praises to his Divine Redeemer. His dress was plain, and sometimes shabby. Often he had literally only one coat and one pair of shoes, not from affectation, or eccentricity, but from a benevolent desire to benefit the poor. Possessed of strong mental power, and with a Cambridge education, he was capable of rising above the rank of ordinary preachers; but, to accommodate himself to his rustic hearers, there was a homeliness in his forms of speech, which was sometimes scarcely dignified. He preached in the same style as that in which Albert Durer painted. His power in prayer was marvellous. “He was like a man with his feet on earth and his soul in heaven.” As one of Wesley’s “assistants,” he visited classes, gave tickets, held lovefeasts, attended quarterly meetings, entertained the “itinerants,” and let them preach in the kitchen of his parsonage. He was oft eccentric, but always honest, earnest, and devout. Strong of frame, and robust in health, his study was under the wide canopy of heaven, among hills and dales; and the weariness of his wanderings was relieved by Divinely imparted thoughts, and communings with his God. He died April 7, 1763; some of his last words being, “I am as happy as I can be on earth, and as sure of heaven as if I was in it.” He was a rare man; and in him was fully exemplified his favourite motto, which was inscribed upon his coffin, “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”
In the same neighbourhood was another man, who, though not so eminent, deserves honourable mention,—Thomas Colbeck, of Keighley, now twenty-five years of age, long a faithful and laborious local preacher, and whose memory is still precious among the west Yorkshire mountains. He was one of Grimshaw’s faithful travelling companions; and, by his instrumentality, Methodism was introduced into not a few of the villages in the neighbourhood where he lived. His house was Wesley’s home, and the resting place of Wesley’s itinerants. While praying with a person afflicted with a fever he caught the infection, and died on November 5, 1779.[26]
On leaving Haworth, Wesley proceeded to Roughlee, a village in the vicinity of Colne, Grimshaw and Colbeck going with him. While Wesley was preaching, a drunken rabble came, with clubs and staves, led on by a deputy constable, who said he was come for the purpose of taking Wesley to a justice of the peace at Barrowford. Wesley went with him. On the way a miscreant struck him in the face; another threw a stick at his head; and a third cursed and swore, and flourished his club about Wesley’s person as if he meant to murder him. On reaching the public house, where his worship was waiting, he was required to promise not to come to Roughlee again. He answered, he would sooner cut off his head than make such a promise. For above two hours, he was detained in the magisterial presence; but, at length, he was allowed to leave. The deputy constable went with him. The mob followed with oaths, curses, and stones. Wesley was beaten to the ground, and was forced back into the house. Grimshaw and Colbeck were used with the utmost violence, and covered with all kinds of sludge. Mr. Mackford, who had come with Wesley from Newcastle, was dragged by the hair of his head, and sustained injuries from which he never fully recovered. Some of the Methodists, who were present, were beaten with clubs; others were trampled in the mire; one was forced to leap from a rock ten or twelve feet high, into the river; and others had to run for their lives, amidst all sorts of missiles thrown after them. The magistrate saw all this; and, so far from attempting to hinder it, seemed well pleased with the murderous proceedings. Next day Wesley wrote him as follows:—“All this time you were talking of justice and law! Alas, sir, suppose we were Dissenters (which I deny), suppose we were Jews or Turks, are we not to have the benefit of the laws of our country! Proceed against us by the law, if you can or dare; but not by lawless violence; not by making a drunken, cursing, swearing, riotous mob, both judge, jury, and executioner. This is flat rebellion against God and the king, as you may possibly find to your cost.”
This horrible outrage was chiefly fomented by a popish renegado, who was now the curate of Colne. The following proclamation for raising mobs against the Methodists was issued:—
“Notice is hereby given, that if any men be mindful to enlist into his majesty’s service, under the command of the Rev. George White, commander-in-chief, and John Bannister, lieutenant-general of his majesty’s forces, for the defence of the Church of England, and the support of the manufactory in and about Colne, both of which are now in danger, etc., etc., let them now repair to the drumhead at the cross, where each man shall have a pint of ale for advance, and other proper encouragements.”[27]
Besides this, White, within the last month, had preached an inflammatory sermon which, at the end of the year, was published, with a dedicatory epistle to the Archbishop of Canterbury. The title is, “A Sermon against the Methodists, preached at Colne and Marsden, to a very numerous audience; by George White, M.A., minister of Colne and Marsden; and author of ‘Mercurius Latinus.’ Published at the request of the audience.” Octavo, 24 pages.