The Lives of Sundry Eminent Persons, Part 2 · Biography 10
The Life and Death of Mrs. Margaret Baxter, the Wife of Mr. Richard Baxter, who died June 14th. Anno Christi. 1681.
MRS. Margaret Baxter was born in the County of Salop; Her Father was Her Parentage.Frances Charleton, Esq; who was accounted one of the best Justices of the Peace in all that County. He was a grave, sober, and worthy Man: But not Marrying till he was aged, dyed when his Children were very young.
His Children were three, a Son and two Daughters. He had one surviving Brother, Robert, who after the Death of Francis, maintained a long, and costly suit for the Guardianship of his Heir: But his Wife and Good Mother [Mary] durst not trust her only Son in the hands of one that was his next heir. She thought also that nature gave her a greater interest in him than any Unkle could have.
This falling out in that heat of our late Civil Wars, Robert being for the Parliament, had the advantage of strength, which occasioned her to seek relief at Oxford from the King, and afterwards to Marry one Mr. Hanmer, who was also for the King, to improve her interest thereby.
Her House (which was a kind of a small Castle) was made a Garrison by the Kings party: But Robert procured it to be besieged by some Parliament Soldiers, who took it by storm, where the Mother and her Children were, and saw some part of their Housing burnt, and some that were slain, lying dead before their eyes: And thus Robert got possession of the Children. But, after some time, she by her prudence and watchfulness, surprized them, and conveyed them away secretly to one Mr. Bernard, in Essex, where she secured them against all their Unkle's endeavours to recover them.
Those unhappy Wars being ended, and she, as Guardian, enjoying her Sons Estate, managed it with as much prudence, care, and industry, as if it had been for her self, and out of it, Conscionably paid her Husbands just debts, repaired some of the Buildings which were burnt down; till her Son, Marrying, took his Estate into his own hands.
Not long after, she went to Kederminster, to Mr. Baxter, (tho a stranger to her) Twenty miles distant from her, and desired him there to take an House for her alone. His answer was, that he would not be guilty of doing any thing which should separate such a Mother from her only Son, who in his youth had so much need of her Counsel and conduct: And that, if Passion in her, and any miscarriage in him, had caused a difference, that love which had carried her through so much trouble for him, should teach her with patience to bear it, rather than to withdraw her self from him. Hereupon she went back, yet shortly after returned, and took a House her self without his knowledge, or privity.
She had not been long there, before her unmarried Daughter [our Margaret] came to her, who was then about seventeen, or eighteen years old, resolving not to forsake her Mother who deserved her dearest Love; yet sometimes went to Oxford, to her Elder Sister, who was Married there to Mr. Ambrose Opton, at that time a Canon of Christ Church: At which time her good old Mother lived as a blessing among the poor, but honest Weavers of Kidderminster, who (tho strangers to her) yet for their pieties sake, were presered by her before the ruffling vanities of the world.
In her younger days, Pride Vanity and Romances, and such like Company, were her delight, and an imprudent rigid Governess, whom her Mother had set over her in her absence, had done her much hurt, by possessing her with hard thoughts against strictness in Religion: Yet had she a great Reverence for some good Ministers, especially for one Mr. Tho. Wright, and she thought that she was not such an one as she should be, but something better (tho she knew not what the better was) must be sought after and attained.
With these thoughts she came to Kederminster, where she soon took scandal at the Poverty, and strict precisness of the people there, tho her great love to her Mother drew her among them: Here she attired her self in costly, and glittering Apparel, and delighted in her former Romances: But not long after she heard and understood what those bitter things were which she had thought must be attained.
For being at Oxford, she heard a Sermon Preached by Mr. H. Hickman, upon that Her Conversion.Text, Isay. 27. 11. It is a people of no understanding, therefore he that made them will not save them, &c. This wrought much upon her, and the Doctrine of Conversion, Preached by Mr. Baxter, and afterwards Printed by him, in his Treatise of Conversion, was received on her heart, as a Seal on the wax. Whereupon she presently fell to self-judging, frequent Reading, and Prayer, and serious thoughts about her present and future estate.
A Godly, and Religious Maid that waited upon her, taking notice of this change, and of her secret duties (which she concealed all that possibly she could, as was her practise all her life time, tho to her great prejudice) she acquainted her Mother with it, who (tho before, probably, she loved her last, and least of all her Children) now began to esteem her as her Darling: And all her Religious Friends, and Neighbours, rejoyced much, and praised God for so sudden and great a change.
About this time Mr. Baxter Preaching upon that Text, Rom. 8. 9. Yea are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if so be the Spirit of God dwell in you, &c. Upon which occasion he gave them sundry marks whereby they might know whether they had the Spirit of Christ or no. These she carefully set down, and among many other papers which were found after her death, this was found among the rest, wherein she had set down first the Mark, and then her self-judging, and self-condemning thoughts upon it. And at last she thus concludes.
It is now evident that I am a graceless person. Tho all things be imperfect in the best, and some are more wanting in one particular than in an other: Yet where all their contraries are predominant (as they are in me) that person is told by this Sermon that he is none of Christs. How much doth my behaviour at this time, make this to appear, when I can with an hard heart, and a dry eye, and with a steady hand, declare my self at present an heir of Everlasting wo? But the longest day will quickly come, tho I strive to put it far from me.
Next to this there was a full paper containing the great necessity of self-judging; the reasons for it, rules how to perform it, together with the due manner thereof, especially in times of danger, before the Lords Supper, and before we presume to make any conclusions about our state of grace.
These Convictions did neither dye, nor drave her into dispair: But, through Gods mercy, grew up to serious conversion, yet they put her to struggle hard against backwardness to secret duties, and caused her to abandon some vanities which she had been formerly addicted to.
Shortly after God seemed sharply to intertain this New Convert, for whilst her friends were rejoycing in her sudden and signal change, she was seized upon with a Cough, and seeming Consumption, insomuch as her friends began to despair of her life, and when her Country Physicians were at a nonplus what to do, they described her distemper to Dr. Prijean, and Dr. G. Bates, who both judged that it was a Consumption, and both prescribed the same Remedies, which yet prevailed nothing towards her cure; whereupon the honest Weavers resolved to set a day apart, that by fasting and prayer they might commend her case unto God, and former experience had much encouraged them to make use of that last refuge.
For they had lately prayed for one that was judged to be possessed, who was suddenly freed. Also for their Pastor, Mr. Baxter in a dangerous ilness, and he had speedy help. He had lately swallowed a Gold-bullet, and it lodged long in his bowels, and by no means would come away, till they met to fast and pray, and that very morning it came away. A young man that fell into a violent Epilepsy, and after great means used for a long time, remained uncured, they set to fasting and prayer (he being present) and the second day he was suddainly cured and never had fit after. In all these duties there was no Minister with them: But that day that they met to pray for Mrs. Margaret Charleton, Mr. Baxter was with them, and Compassion to her made them extraordinary fervent, and God heard them, and she was speedily delivered, either without means, or by an undesigned, and unexpected means. For, without any advise of her own accord, she drank a large quantity of Syrup of Violets, and the next morning her Nose bled (which was altogether unusual) and her Lungs were cleered, her pulse amended, or Cough abated, and her health soon after was restored.
She was naturally of a tender, and timerous nature, which was heightned by the sharp work of Repentance, under which she still lay, which she by concealing, made more burdensome.
Not long after her recovery, her Mother invited all those that had so prayed for her, to keep a day of Thanksgiving for her signal Deliverance. And she being asked, what things in particular she would have them give Thanks for in her behalf? She, before they began, gave them in a Paper, what her desires were upon that account.
Also the same Day she left under her hand in Writing a Paper, containing the renewal of her Covenant with God, wherein she thus Writes.
This being a day set apart for returning Thanks unto God for his Mercy in delivering me from the Gates of death, these people being those that have earnestly supplicated the Throne of Grace on my behalf; I here now renew my Covenant with Almighty God, and resolve by his Grace, to endeavour to get, and keep a fresh sense of his mercy upon my soul, and also a greater sense of my Sins. I resolve to set my self against my Sins with all my might, and not to take its part, or to extenuate it, or to keep the Devils Counsel, as I have done, to the wronging of God and wounding of my own soul. I resolve (by Gods assistance) to set upon the practice of known duties, and not to study shifts, and evasions to put off those, which are either troublesome, chargable, or like to render me dishonourable, or vile in the Eyes of the carnal Persons of the World: And then she set down the considerations, and reasons that moved her hereunto, which for brevity-sake, I omit: And conclude thus.
April 10th. On Thursday night at Twelve of the Clock at Night. A Day and Night never to be forgotten by the least of all Gods Mercies; yea, less than the least, Thy Unworthy, Unthankful, Hard-hearted Creature, M. Charlton.
Yet she continued under great fears that she had not saving Grace, because she had not that degree of holy affections which her soul longed after. Hereupon some of her Friends Wrote Consolatory Letters to her, which she kept by her, and transcribed, for her use and support.
What her striving against fear and sorrows were, she expressed in a Paper under her hand, in these words,
April 3d. The sadder my Condition is, the greater the mercy is that I am yet alive. Why then should I not give God Thanks for that, and beg the rest which yet I want? And though my Life seems a burden to me sometimes, it is my great mistake: For the greatest Afflictions are nothing to Hell Torments. Were they as great as ever any were, while I am alive, and on this side Eternity, there is hope. The time of Grace is yet continued: If I be found in Mercies way, I know not but God may yet be Gracious, and give in my soul as he hath done my Life, at his peoples Prayers. For I cannot but look on my Life as an Answer of their Prayers: And surely they desired my Life only that I might live to God; I desired it my self on no other terms.
It was my earnest request that I might not live, if not to him. Why then should I be perswaded by Satan to think, that God will not give me Grace as well as Life? May I not rather be encouraged with Patience to wait for further Mercy? It is a Mercy that I am in any measure sensible of my danger, and have any desire to be holy. I will therefore stir up my soul to Thankfulness, and to be humbled that I can be no more Thankful. I will acknowledg the Mercy that I have received, and the probability of future Mercies. And this (by Gods assistance) the Devil shall not hinder me from doing.
An other Paper shewed what Resolutions she took up after her Recovery, whereof I will only give you a brief hint.
December 30th. (saith she) was my worst day: I little then thought that I should Recover. But January 1st. being New-years Day, my Nose bled largely, after which I amended, so that April 10th. was a day of Thanksgiving for me, &c.
During the time of her Sickness, an honest Kinsman of hers, Mr. Eleazor Careswell of Shefnall in Shropshire, made this Anagram on her Name, and Verses upon it.
MARGARET CHARLTON
ANAGRAM. Arm to later change.
THe prudent soul refin'd from Earth, doth ever
Arm to her later change, and fears it never.
Those glittering Monarchs, who seem to command
This Ball, shall by Deaths impartial Hand
Put out, and doom'd to an eternal State,
(No mortal sinner can decline this Fate)
Death conquers Scepter-swaying Kings; but I
Shall conquer death, being now Arm'd to dy.
Arm soul for this one change, and wed thy heart
To Christ, and then no death shall ever part
Your joyned souls; And thou, because that he
Hath Life, of life shall still possessed be
Death will but this snarl'd knot of life untie
To unite souls in a more blessed tie.
When Faith, renewing Grace, repenting Tears,
Hath clear'd the soul from filth, and she appears
Ʋnspotted, Holy Pure, invested in
Christs Milk white snowy Robes, quite freed from sin,
Wholly delivered from this fleshly thrall,
And Hells black Monarch, and adorn'd with all
God's perfect Grace: Triumphantly these sing,
Death, and Hell conquer'd are by Christ our King.
Faith, Hope, and Love, such souls now fortifie,
And armed thus why should we fear to die?
Though death divorce those long acquainted Friends,
And lodg Earth in the Earth; the soul ascends
To those high, glorious Regions, whereas she
With Christ, and blessed Souls shall ever be.
Soul-troubling sin shall then molest no more,
Which clog'd, which wounded her so long before.
Poor souls go fetter'd here with flesh, and sin,
Death doth her great deliverance begin
Thy soul renew'd by Grace shall quickly see
How blest a change that day will bring to thee!
Death shall those weeping Eyes dry up, and close,
And pained weary flesh to rest repose:
The Grave will be a safe and quiet Bed,
To that frail body when the soul is fled.
This aking head shall there be laid to rest,
Whilst thy glad soul of Glory is possest.
As banisht griefs end in that quiet sleep;
Thy dust is holy, it thy Lord will keep
Till the last Trumpet; and he shall raise
The Just, and Ʋnjust at the last of dayes;
Then the refined body shall again
Its late dislodged soul re-intertain.
And re-united chant well-tuned laies
Ʋnto the Lamb, whose soul-enamouring raies
Shall ravish Saints with blessed, perfect joy,
Freed from whatever would their rest annoy:
Where they with flaming Love, and pleasure sing
Holy melodious Praise to God their King.
Rise then my soul: Thy thoughts from Earth estrange;
The first is wrought: Arm to thy later change.
The Soul whilst it is in the body, works much according to the bodies temper and disposition. She was of an extraordinary sharp and piercing Wit. She had natural reservedness, and secrecy, which was encreased by her judging it necessary Prudence not to be open, by which means she was oft-times misunderstood, even by her nearest friends, and disappointed by those whose intent was to please her. And as she could understand others much by their looks and hints, so she expected that all should know her mind without her expressing of it: but this bred frustrations and discontents. She had a natural tenderness, and troubledness of mind upon the crossing of her just desires. Too quick, and ungovernable a sense of displeasing words and deeds.
She had a diseased, unresistible timorousness, and to encrease it, she said, she was four times in danger of death; once by the small Pox: And the more to encrease it, her Mothers house [Aply Castle] being a Garrison for the King, was stormed whilst she was in it, by the Parliament Soldiers, taken, part of the houshing burnt down, dead bodies lying before their Eyes, and themselves stript of their Apparel, that they were enforced to borrow other. The great work upon her soul in her Conversion, which moved all her passions. Add to these her dangerous sickness, wherein she received the Sentence of death, which to so young a Convert must needs be a very awakening Providence, and coming upon her before she had attained any assurance, did the more increase her Fears.
Thus living by the Church-yard side, she saw also all the Corpses that were brought to burial, and kept a dead mans Skul in her Closet, and the use of such mortifying spectacles, they increased her sad dispositions.
Beside, the extraordinary Love she had to her Mother did increase her grief, when she expected death: And all was much increased by her Wisdom, whereby she so stifled all appearances of it, that it wrought the more inwardly, because it wanted vent.
She had also keen Spirits, and their sharp blood, which caused much Head▪ach once a Month, and many times oftner, from the Age of fifteen or sixteen years: All which together, tended much to hinder her from a quiet and comfortable temper: All the operations of her soul were intense and strong; and when God shewed her what Holiness was, she expected to have it presently in as great a measure as the highest Saint doth here attain unto; And because she had not so much as she desired, and would fain have had, she concluded that she had none in sincerity.
The first discovery of her change to her Mother and Friends, was her fervent Prayers in secret. For living in a great House, whereof the middle part was ruined in the time of our Wars, she chose her a Closet in the farther end of that House, where she thought that none could hear her; yet some did over-hear, who said, that they never heard such fervent Prayes from any Person.
Anno Christi 1662. September the 10th. Mr. Richard Baxter and she were married together in Saint Bennet Fink-Church, London, having been contracted before in the presence of some Christian Friends: But before their Marriage these conditions were concluded upon. First, that Mr. Baxter should have nothing that before Marriage was hers, that so he (who wanted no outward supplies) might not so much as seem to marry her for Covetousness. Secondly, That she should so order her affairs, that he might not be entangled in any Law suits about the same. Thirdly, That she should expect none of his time, which his Ministireal imployment should call for.
After her Marriage her sadness and melancholy vanished away, for Advise and Counsel contributed towards the cure of it, as did content, and imployment about Houshold Affairs; And with her Husband she lived in inviolable Love, and mutual complacency: For nineteen years after their Marriage, there was never any breach, either in point of love, or interest, save only that she somewhat grudged that he had perswaded her for quietness sake to Surrender so much of her Estate, as disabled her from helping others according to her earnest desire.
But that it was not from any covetous desire, may appear by these instances.
First, whereas her Portion (which was two Thousand pounds) beside what was so setled as is mentioned before, she had in her Mothers life time, lost two hundred pounds, and two hundred pounds more before her Marriage, by ill debtors, yet did she never complain, or grudg at the loss which was occasioned by poor debtors.
Secondly, She knew before that the Lord Chancellor that then was, had profered, her Husband a Bishoprick, which would have stopped the Mouths of some of her Relations, who thought she undervalued her self by matching so low, and also might have been desirable as to the Wealth and Honor accompanying it: Yet was she so far from perswading to embrace and accept of it, that probably had he done, it would much have weakned her love, and esteem of him, though she had no prejudice against Episcopal Government. For she abhorred a worldly, mercenary mind in a Minister of Jesus Christ.
Thirdly, Another trial of her affections to Wealth and Honor was, at the fatal time when her Husband, and so many hundreds of other Godly, Learned and painful Ministers were cast out of their Places, and hopes of Ecclesiastical maintenance; exposed to scorns, and reproach, whereof her Husband had already some sense and feeling, when the Bishop of Winchester before that, had forbid him to Preach, and the Bishop himself, his Dean, and many others had Preached fiercely against him in his own Pulpit in Kederminster. So that to choose an ejected Minister at such a time, was to expose her self to certain suffering, which in prospect, had no end on this side death.
Among other troubles which her Marriage exposed her to, one was their frequent removals unto which they were necessiated: And such as have experimented what it is to take Houses, to be bound to Landlords, to fit, and furnish them, cannot but be sensible both of the charge, and trouble of it.
The first House they took was in Morefields, from thence they removed to an other at Acton: And after that, to an other in that Town, and soon they were necessitated to return to one of the former again. And after that to diverse others, in an other place and Country, wherein the greatest trouble is incumbent upon the Mistress of the Family.
She never came to any place, but she did exceedingly win upon the affections of the Inhabitants, and Neighbourhood. If she had had so much of this worlds wealth, as she had a heart to improve it for the good of others, how much love would she have gained when she had it in so eminent a manner in her low, and meaner condition?
Her deportment and carriage won her more Honor, and Love, than her Liberality. She could not endure to hear any one give to an other, sower, bitter, or hasty words: Her own Carriage was always kind, courteous, and loving to all with whom she conversed.
And all her kindness tended to a better end, than barely to supply peoples bodily wants, even to oblige them to some duty that might promote the good of their Souls; or to deliver them from some streights, which fill'd them with noisome cares, which became matter of great Temptation to them. If she could hire People to hear Gods Word, from Conformists, or from Non-Conformist, it answered her end and desire, and many Hundred of good Books she gave to the poor for that end.
Whilst they lived at Acton, her carriage and Charity so won the People there, that she had the Love, and esteem of all. And she being earnestly desirous of doing good, fitted, and prepared her House for the entertainment of such as would come in to be instr…cted by her Husband, between the publick Morning and Evening Exercises, and after them. And people that had never enjoyed such opportunities, tho many of them were accounted worldly, ignorant Persons, yet gave great hopes of their Edification and Reformation, and would accompany Mr. Baxter, and his Family to the publick. And after Mr. Baxters removal, this People hearing that he wanted a House, being Ten Miles from them, they Unanimously subscribed a request to him, to return to his former House, offering very kindly to pay his Rent if he would come among them again. Surely his Wives carriage did much contribute towards the winning upon them.
When Mr. Baxter was carried from Acton to the Common Goal, for this Instructing of them, he never perceived his Wife to be troubled at it, but chearfully went with him into Prison, brought her best bed with her, and did much to remove the removable inconveniences of the Prison: And intruth did never live a more pleasant Life than when she continued there. And whereas people upon such occasions were not unapt to shew their liberality, it was much against her mind to receive more from them than necessity required. Only three Persons gave them just so much as paid Lawyers, and the Prison charges, and when one offered more, she refused to receive it. But all was far short of the great charges of their removal to an other Habitation.
About this time the Parliament made a New and sharper Act against Dissenters, whereupon Mr. Baxter was forced to remove into an other County, and his Wife removed such Goods as were moveable, from Acton to Totteridge, yet still they were engaged for that Rent of the House which they were driven from.
At Totteridge few poor people suffered such hardship as she was put to: They could have no house but part of a poor Farmers, where the Chimnies did smoak so extreamly, as was very prejudicial to her health: For the smoak was so gross, that it almost choaked them: And she had ever a great straitness in her Lungs, which occasioned the smoak to be the more offensive to her. Yet such was her Charity to her poor Land-Lady, that she placed out her Son an Apprentice, who afterwards lived well.
After some time they took an other House to which they removed, yet it wanted such great alterations, and reparations, as took her up much time and labor; Which yet was much alleviated by the coming, and Company of Mr. Corbet, and his Wife, who about that time came to live with them.
When the Kings gracious Declaration came forth, which gave to Non-Conformists Licenses to Preach, and to build places to meet in: She disswaded her Husband from removing to London till others were settled, lest he should anticipate them, or draw any Auditors, who otherwise would joyn with others, especially with their old ejected Pastors: But when others were setled, she than importuned him to go for the exercise of his Ministry.
When they were going to London, out of a tender care of her Husbands Health, which might be prejudiced by want of a good Air, she sought out and took a most pleasant and convenient House in Southampton Square, where they continued, and in which she dyed.
At her first Converson, and in the time of her sickness, she wholly devoted her self and all that she had to God, and earnestly set her self to perform those resolutions all her life after. At first she gave but the Tenth of her Income to the Poor: But her Husband soon convinced her that God was not to be stinted, but as all was his, so all must be used, for him, and to him we must give an account of all: Only we must do it in his appointed order: As
1. For our own natural necessities. 2. For publick necessities. 3. For the necessities of Children, Family, and near Relations. 4. For the Godly poor. 5. Then for the necessities of the common poor. And lastly for conveniences. As for her private Charity which was great, its thought fit not to make mention of it, but to conceal it till that day wherein it shall be Proclaimed before all the world.
She was earnestly desirous of winning of Souls, and of the utmost improvement of Ministers labours, to that end. We heard before how she promoted, and encouraged it at Acton, and Totteridge out of Church time: And after her coming to London, she feared that her Husband was too backward in seeking out imployment, staying till he was called: And most of the places in London being well supplyed, she questioned her Husband, what place he most desired to bestow his pains in? He answered, in Saint Martius Parish, where it was sayd, that their were forty Thousand Persons more than could come into the Church, especially among the new buldings in Saint James's, where many of the Inhabitants live like the Indians in America, having heard no Sermon for many years.
Having heard this (unknown to her Husband) she laid out to find a large and capacious Room, for him to Preach in; but none could be found, save diverse Rooms laid together over the Market-House; This she imployed a Friend to take, which he did.
And they two importuned Mr. Baxter to Preach there every Morning, and in the Afternoon to get by turns the ablest Ministers, whom they could procure in London: And for that end she sent for a Minister that lived an Hundred Miles off, to come and help her Husband, to whom she engaged her self to give him forty pound per annum, to go from day to day to supply the places of such Ministers as should be so gotten as afore. The charge of this, besides paying a Clerk, and a Woman to look to the seats, rose high: part of it the people, the rest, she paid her self.
From this place the Lord was pleased ere long to remove them by a strange, and almost a miraculous Providence. The Roof of the House was of a vast weight, and was ill contrived, the weight lying much upon one beam in the midst of the floor. The Place being greatly crouded, the beam gave so great a crack as put all the People into a great fright; But a second crack, set them all a running, and crying out at Windows for Ladders. Mr. Baxter reproved them for their inordinate fears, and would have gone on Preaching.
Upon hearing the first crack Mrs. Baxter got down the stairs through the Croud, where others could not get that were far stronger. Being down, the first Man she met, she asked him what Profession he was of? He answered, a Carpenter. Sayd she, Can you suddenly put a prop under the middle of this beam? The Man lived hard by, had a prop ready, suddenly put it under, while all above knew nothing of it. But the Mans knocking encreased the peoples fears and cry, so that all were glad to be gone. The next Morning, they took a skilful Workman to take up the boards, and search being made, they all saw, that the beam had two great Rents in it, long and wide, and that the sound part which was left, was so slender, that it was a wonderful Providence that the House fell not suddainly.
This Providence increased Mrs. Baxters diseased frightfulness, and she could never get off the effects of it so long as she lived. The fear, and the marvelous deliverance made her promise to God two things.
First, To keep the Anniversary memorial of it by a solemn Thanksgiving, which she did all her life after.
Secondly, To build a stronger place, where they might meet with less fear and danger. And she was the deeplier affected with this danger because she was the person that took the place, and occasioned their coming thither: And if eight Hundred Persons had there been maimed or lost their lives, (as the Papists were served at Black-Fryers) what a dreadful thing would it have been, and what a greivous and publick scandal?
Mrs. Baxter according to her promise, paid for the place, and presently imployed one to seek out a fit Ground, and to build an house upon it: But there was no fit ground near it, save in two places, of which one was in Oxendon street, which could not be had except she would give Thirty pounds per annum, Ground-Rent, and to be at all the charge of building, and all but for a Lease, which yet was not long.
To perform her promise, and desire, she imployed a friend to take it, and by request, procured among her Friends Mony wherewith to build it in the form of a Chappel: And, by ill advise was perswaded also to take the Front ground to the Street, and to build two little Houses upon it, to their great loss; all her own mony, and much more, being laid out upon them, against her inclination.
When the Chappel was finished, Mr. Baxter Preached but one day in it, being to go on the Morrow into the Country: And it so fell out, that Mr. Secretary H. Coventry's House was on the backside of it, who resolved that they should not settle so near him. And accordingly, the next Lords Day, (Mr. Baxter being from home, and having left his Wife behind him,) she procured one Mr. Siddon, a stranger, newly come up to London (an humble, pious Man, who had suffered Imprisonment under Oliver, for being for the Kings Restauration at the rising of Sir George Booth) to Preach in that place: But Secretary Coventry, thinking that Mr. Baxter would Preach, had got three Justices, with a Warrant, to apprehend him, and to send him to the Goal: But this storm fell upon Mr. Siddon: Yet after some time of his Imprisonment, the Warrant being against Mr. Baxter, and having some other flaws in it, he had an Habeas Corpus, and by the Justice of the Lord Chief Justice Hale, and some other Judges, he was released: But he being a tender Man, and Mrs. Baxter very sensible that she was the occasion of his troubles, the burden lay upon her to maintain, visit, and chear him up, to pay the Lawyers, and his Prison Fees, all which cost her about twenty pounds.
When Mrs. Baxter found that she could not keep up Preaching in that place, which according to promise, she had prepared for it, she was glad that Dr. Lloyd, and his Parishioners would accept of it for the place of their publick worship, asking them no more Rent than she was to pay for the ground, and the Room over it for a Vestry, demanding nothing for all the money laid out for the building: Yet the purchase of the Fee simple for the Ground on which the Chappel was built, cost Mr. Baxter two hundred pounds, and two hundred more for the Ground adjoining, to his great loss.
Yet so much was her heart set to help the poor untaught People about S. James's, that she set up a School there to teach Children to read, and learn the Catechism, and also relieved an honest poor man who taught them, who had a Wife, and many Children [Mr. Bruce] and no other means to relieve them. And she would fain have set up more, if her Purse would have held out. For this she begged a while of her good Friends, and when after some time, they seemed to grow weary, she paid him six pounds a year, mostly out of her own Purse, so long as she lived.
When she found that her Husband could not make use of the Chappel which she had built, she presently hired another that was near, and ready built for gain, in Swallow-Street, that the poor People, where her Husband had begun, with considerable success, might still be instructed: But when he had continued there a while, he was kept out by some Officers, who stood at the door, with a Justice's Warrant, for many Months together. Upon this she referred it to divers good Ministers, to chuse such an one as would better be endured than her Husband. And a faithful, painful, self-denying man was pitched upon, who hath done much good there.
When Mr. Baxter was driven from the place, her desire was that he should go each Lords day to Preach to a Congregation of poor people there. And when Dr. Mantons place in Covent Garden was void, she desired him to Preach once a day there, because being near, many of the poor of Saint James's might come thither, which they did accordingly.
She also procured from her Friends, money, wherewith to build another convenient Chappel, for an other Minister, among a numerous people, where much good was, and is still done, and she promoted the building of two or three more such Places.
She was much troubled to see the publick Collections, which were made for the Ministers, and to pay the Rent for their Meeting houses, as sounding ill, and being also prejudicial to the Ignorant, and covetous, and was a trouble to the Poor, who wanted money to give, and therefore she did what possibly she could by her own purse, and her Friends to avoid it; knowing that Rent must be paid, and Ministers, with their Families must not be starved, and should not be under the cares of want.
Mr. Baxter for the first nine, or Ten years after his Ejection, never took any Gift to supply his necessities, except ten pound per annum from Serjeant Fountain, which his importunity and Mr. Baxters modesty would not suffer him to refuse. And this was so far from troubling his Wife, that it was altogether according to her mind and desire.
It was a great Testimonial of her Piety and Charity, that when her own Estate proved much too short to maintain her in the exercise of such good Works as she was devoted to, she refused not to accept thankfully the Liberality of others, and her self to live partly upon Charity, that she might be enabled to open her hands to such poor as could not so easily get it from others as they could.
When Warrants were out from a Justice of Peace to distrain of Mr. Baxters Goods for Fines for his Preaching, she did encourage her Husband to undergo the loss without repining, and underwent the trouble her self of removing, and hiding his Library that it might not be distrained, and some time after she freely gave it away, partly to the Colledge in New England, the rest at home. And his danger of paying forty pounds for every Sermon, besides imprisonment, was so far from inclining her to discourage him from his Office-Work, that if she did but suspect that he feared, or was doubtful what to do, it was so great a trouble to her that she could not conceal it.
Her expectation of liberality to the poor from others was too high, and she was too much troubled at the backwardness of some. When she saw a worthy person in debt, or in Prison, she would promise to gather him such a sum of money, and when it came short, she was sain to pay the most of it her self. Not long before her Death she promised to get twenty pound more towards the relief of one of known Name, and Worth, and when she could get but about 8 l. she made it up her self: Many poor Widdows and others thought they lost a Mother when they lost her.
To her Husbands poor Kindred she was liberal, but not to maintain them in idleness, but to set them to Trade, or to help them out of great straights. To her own Kindred she did bear a very tender love; And she prevailed with her Husband to be the Motioner of a Wife to her only Brother, which was sayd to be worth twenty thousand pounds to him; and her Sisters Children she loved as if they had been her own, especially her three Daughters.
She had in her youth been tempted to doubt of the Life to come, and of the truth of the Scriptures: But she was so fully settled, and resoved herein, that the confident Assurance of it, was the life of all her life, and practice.
After all the doubts of her sincerity, and Salvation, and all her fears, and sadness thereupon, she so far overcame them all, that for near nineteen years that she lived in a Married Estate, her Husband scarse ever heard her to speak a doubting word of her Salvation; but oft of her hopeful perswasion, that they should live together in Heaven for ever.
Her former saying was, that if she were but in a condition, in which Gods service was costly to her, it would make her know whether she were sincere or not: And she had her desire, and proved her sincerity by her constliest Obedience. For it cost her, not only her labour, and Estate, but somewhat of her trouble of body and mind. For her Knife was too keen and cut the sheath. Her desires were more earnestly set on doing good, than her tender mind and head could well bear: Her great infirmity was the four Passions of Love, desire and trouble of mind. Of anger she had very little, or little made it known: She rarely spake in an angry manner. She could not well bear to hear one speak loud, or hastily, or eagerly, or angerly, even to such as deserved it.
She as much disliked the silencing of so many Ministers as any other could, but she did not love to hear it much complained of, save as the publick loss: Nor to hear Conformists talked against as a party: Nor the faults of the Consciencious sort of them aggravated in a factious, siding manner.
She had a diseased fearfulness, against which she had little more Free-will, or Power, than a Man in an Ague fit, hath against shaking. Her nature was prone to it; and many sad accidents, together with trouble of mind made them her malady: Namely.
1. She was four times in danger of Death.
2. The Storming of her Mothers House, firing and burning down part of it; plundering, and killing some, and threatning the rest.
3. The awakening in her Conversion.
4. The Sentence of death in Sickness, presently before her Peace was setled.
5. The Fire next her Lodging in Sweetings Alley.
6. The burning of a Merchant, with his Wife and Family, in Lothbury, over-against her Brother Ʋptons house.
7. The common terror and confusion in the Church of Dunstans in the West, when the People thought that the Church was falling on their Heads, whilst her Husband was Preaching in it; and the People in that consternation, cast themselves down out of the Galleries.
8. The loss of her Mother by Death, and the friendless State that she then thought her self to be left in.
9. The great and dreadful Plague that swept away above an Hundred thousand within the Bills of Mortality.
10. The dreadful Conflagration of London.
11. The Crack, and danger of her Chamber in Aldersgatestreet.
12. The Crack, and confusion, in S. Jameses Market-house.
13. The many Fires, and threatnings of more.
14. The frequent, and common Rumors of Murthers, and Massacres.
15. The death, and dangers of many of her dear Friends.
16. Her Husbands ilness, and craziness.
She dreamed much of Fire, and Murders, and these dreams much augmented her Fears; so that she could not endure the clapping of a Door, nor any sudden noise, or that had fierceness in it. Yet by the power of Grace she had overcome most of her Fear of Hell, and of Gods desertion, and was very free from the Fears of Persecution, Imprisonment, and of Losses, and Poverty, few attaining to the like.
She had earnest desire after the Conversion and Salvation of her Servants, and she was much troubled that so many of them (though tolerable for doing their work) yet went away ignorant, and strangers to true Godliness. And such as were truly Converted she loved as Children.
She used to say, that she had imprinted on her a deep hatred, and fear of Hypocrisie, which much hindred her from performing the outside of her duty, especially, as to the speaking part. There were very few abler to speak long, and to cloth their matter with good Language, without Repetitions, even about Religion: and few that had more desire that it should be well done: And yet she could not do it her self for fear of seeming guilty of Ostentation. In good Company she spake little of that which she most desired to hear; In her Husbands absence, she would not pray in her Family, tho she could perform it very well, for fear of Hypocrisie: Yet she would privately confer with her servants, and read good Books to them.
She would often say: Its a great mercy of God, never to know what will befall us in this world; Nor how we shall be sick, or die, that our knowledg may not anticipate our sorrows, tho in the general we should be always ready.
She was a great honourer of her Mother, and loved her most sincerely. She believed the Promise in the fifth Commandment, and believed that it implied an answerable Curse to them that broke it, according to those Scriptures, Prov 30. 17. the Eye that mocketh at his Father, &c. And Deut. 27. 16. Cursed be he that setteth light by his Father, &c.
She was much troubled with a great pain in her Head, which held her from her youth two or three days every fortnight, and upon every occasion that did irritate the matter, she had a …onstant straitness in her Lungs, a great incapacity of much exercise, motion, or any heating thing.
About three years before her decease, by the ill advise of a Friend, drinking against the Collick a spoonful of powder of Ginger, every morning for near a quarter of a year together, and then falling into some overwhelming thoughts, it overthrew her head for some few days, but through Gods mercy, she was soon restored again.
Ever since that time her Head-ach abated, and she complained of a pain in one of her Breasts, which through her timerousness filled her with fears that it would prove a Cancer: And several Neighbours, Friends, and Relations about that time dying of Cancers, increased her Fears: Yet she seemed to be prepared chearfully to undergo it.
The many rumours of Plots, Firings, Massacres, &c. much encreased her fears: And the death of very many Neighbours: Some of them young, strong, and choise Christians, of great usefulness, and many near Friends, did greatly add to her sadness, and expectation of death. But little of this appeared unto others, for she purposely carried it chearfully, and merrily with her Friends, when yet she was troubled within.
About ten weeks before her last sickness, most of her pain went out of her Breast, and fixed in a constant pain in her right Kidney, and withal, her Urine stopt, and little (comparatively) came from her for about ten Weeks. Some things which she took did work too powerfully upon her Brain, and suddenly cast her into a strong disturbance, and Deliration, in which though the Physitians with great kindness and care, did omit nothing in their power, yet she died the Twelfth day after. She fell sick on Friday, June 3. Anno Christi 1681. and died June 14.
Though her understanding was never perfectly restored, yet she had a very strong remembrance of the affecting passages of her Life, from her very Childhood: Mrs. Corbet (whom she dearly loved, and had newly gotten her into her house to be her Companion) with some others being present; she said to her Husband, my Mother is in Heaven, and Mr. Corbet is in Heaven, and Thou and I shall be in Heaven.
She did oft make it appear that her soul did work strongly towards God, and (complaining of her head) she cried out, Lord, make me to know what I have done, for which I undergo all this? Lord I submit: God chooses best for me. She requested her Husband to Pray by her, and quietly joined with them to the end. She heard divers Psalms, and a Chapter Read, and repeated some part of what she heard, and Sung part of a Psalm. The last words that she spake were these: My God help me, Lord have mercy upon me.
She was buried June 17. in Christs-Church, in the Ruines in her Mothers Grave: On which she had caused a fair, rich, and large Marble Stone to be laid, Anno Christi 1661. about twenty years before: upon which her Husband had caused to be written her Titles, and some Latin Verses, and these English ones.
Thus must thy Flesh to silent Dust descend,
Thy Mirth, and Worldly Pleasures thus will end:
Then Happy Holy Souls: But wo to those
Who Heaven forgot, and Earthly Pleasures chose:
Hear, now this preaching Grave without delay,
Believe, Repeat, and work while it is day.
But Christ's Church on Earth is liable to those changes of which the Jerusalem above is in no danger. In the doleful Flames of London 1666, this Church among many others, being burnt, the Roof of it falling, broke this great Marble Stone all to pieces, and it proved no lasting Monument: But this Paper Monument, is like to be more durable than was that Marble Stone.
This Narrative is Written much larger by Mr. Baxter himself, the substance whereof I have contracted into a lesser Volumn, endeavouring not to omit such things as are most material.