1836–1844
Introduction — Birth — Brothers and sisters — Name — Birthday wreaths — Astley Rectory (//ustration) — WHer father’s music — New home at Henwick — Flora’s epitaph — Reading under the table — First rhyme.
WE do not often see the risings of our rivers, the tiny spring lies hidden in some mountain home. Even when the stream gathers strength in its downward course, it meets with many an obstructing boulder, passes through many an unfrequented valley, and traverses here and there a sunless ravine. But the river deepens and widens, and is most known, most navigable, just as it passes away for ever from our gaze, lost in the ocean depths. And thus it was with the early life of that. dear sister whose course I would now attempt to trace. Those who only knew her when her words were
flowing deeply and widely, around, little guess the B dark shadows on her early course. It is most difficult to know what to give, and what to withhold, in these pages. In simple dependence on God’s overruling guidance, a selection is now made from what she little thought would ever be published. Remembering one of her latest whispers, “TI did so want to glorify Him in every step of my way,” it is thought right to unfold these liferecords, May her desire be fulfilled!
‘‘Come nearer, Sun of Righteousness, that we, Whose dim, short hours of day so swiftly run, So overflowed with love and light may be, So lost in glory of the nearing Sun, That not our light, but Zhzxe, the world may see, New praise to Thee through our poor lives be won!”
FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL was born on the 14th of December, 1836, and was the youngest child of William Henry Havergal and Jane his wife. Her father was then Rector of Astley, Worcestershire. The names of her brothers and sisters, in the order of their birth, were : —
I, Jane Miriam, who married Henry Crane, Esq., of Oakhampton, near Stourport.
2. Henry East, vicar of Cople, Bedfordshire, who died 1875. Married Frances Mary, daughter of George J. A. Walker, Esq., Norton, near Worcester,
3. Maria Vernon Graham.
(ANVUO ‘SUW Ad HOLANS V WON)
‘OSI NI AYOLOMY GNV HOUNHD AATISY
mIN hi 4”
“WHAT RUB R! “DOTH REPRESENT.” 3
4. Ellen Prestage, who married Giles Shaw, Esq., of Celbridge Lodge, county Kildare, now of Winterdyne, Bewdley.
5. Francis Tebbs, vicar of Upton Bishop, near Ross, Married Isabel Susan, daughter of Colonel W. Martin.
On the 25th of January, 1837, Frances was
baptized in Astley Church by the Rev. John Cawood, incumbent of St. Ann’s, Bewdley. Her godmothers were Miss Lucy Emra, of St. George’s Vicarage, near Bristol, authoress of ‘‘ Lawrence the Martyr,” “Heavenly Themes,” and other poems; and Miss Elizabeth Cawood, whose clever and attractive brightness had ever great influence over her little goddaughter. Her godfather was the Rev. W. H. Ridley, Vicar of Hambleden. In the “Ministry of Song” we read how Frances loved her name of Ridley, and that she bore it from one descended from the godly and learned Bishop Ridley, of the noble army of martyrs.
“But ‘what the R. doth represent’
I value and revere,
A diamond clasp it seems to be,
On golden chains, enlinking me
In loyal love to England’s hope,
The Church I hold so dear.”
“Our sweet baby,” her father wrote, “grows nicely. She was baptized last Wednesday, ‘ Frances Ridley.’ All are eager for her to be called Fanny, but I do not like it.” However, as a child we called her Fanny, but from the time of the publication of her first book, “The Ministry of Song,” Frances was her usual signature, and she much preferred’ her baptismal name. Her unique surname was spelt Heavergill in 1694, afterwards Havergill, or Havergall, but always Havergal since orthography in general ceased to vary. The derivation of the name is thought to be “Heaver-gill, the heaving or rising of the brook or gill.”
My sister Miriam supplies the next link.
“My recollection of Frances begins with the first day of her life; a pretty little babe even then, and by the time she reached two years of age, with her fair complexion, light curling hair, and bright expression, a prettier child was seldom seen. At that age she spoke with perfect distinctness, and with greater fluency and variety of language than is usual in so young a child. She comprehended and enjoyed any little stories that were told her. I remember her animated look of attention when the Rev. J. East told her about a little Mary who loved the Lord Jesus. We were all taught to read early, and to repeat, by our dear mother; but as I had now left school I undertook this charming little pupil: teaching her reading, spelling, and a rhyme (generally one of Jane Taylor’s), for half-an hour every morning, and in the afternoon twenty or thirty stitches of patchwork, with a very short text to repeat next morning at breakfast. When three years old, she could read easy books, and her brother Frank remembers how often she was found hiding under a table with some engrossing story.”
The Rev. F. Jeffery, afterwards Vicar of Sway, was at this time our father’s curate at Astley. The following is an extract from his letter, September 29th, 1879.
“I well recollect Astley Rectory more than forty years ago. At that time your sister Frances was rather more than two years old, a very fairy-like creature. Her chief companion was then a white and tan spaniel, such as Landseer might have loved, and this little favourite she called Flora or Flo. At morning prayers she always sat on her father’s knee while he read the Scriptures. It is likely that she learned to read asa mere pastime. I well remember her sweet infant voice singing little hymns in imitation of her father. Her nursemaid was recommended by Miss Cawood, from the Bewdley Sunday School. The day she was four years old her little maid brought her down after dinner to dessert, crowned with a wreath of bay-leaves. I shall never forget the picture! She was her dear mother in miniature, especially in the brightness of her expression and the sparkle of her eye. A line from a classic poet was quoted exactly expressing this. I mention this as well remembering the great beauty of your dear mother.... To-day it is exactly fourteen years since I saw the sun for the last time, but it would need many more years than that, to blot out my recollection of Astley Rectory.
“Ah! how each dear domestic scene I knew
Charms with the magic of a moonlight view,
Its colours mellowed not impaired by time!”
Her sister Miriam continues:
“At four years old, Frances could read the Bible and any ordinary book correctly, and had learned to write in round hand. French and music were gradually added; but great care was always taken not to tire her or excite the precocity of her mind, and she never had a regular governess.
“Mr. Jeffery has referred to her wreath of bay on her fourth birthday, and I remember making a wreath of the pink china roses which grew among the ivy on the rectory on her third birthday. Alas! the rose and the prophetic bay reappeared among her funeral wreaths.”
The surroundings of dear Frances’ early days in our Astley home may as well be given in the descriptive lines of my sister Miriam, written in 1863, accompanying her sketch of the church and rectory.
“Behold thy birthplace, Frances! The old house
Entwined with ivy, roses, and the vine;
Beneath the shadow of the ancient shrine
Where ministered our father twenty years.
He built the northern aisle, and gave the clock, A musical memento of his love
For time and tune and punctuality!
Fair is the garden ground, and there the flowers Were trained with care and skill by oxe who now Rests from her labours in the heavenly land. Here life and death together meet; the tombs Stand close beside the mossy bank, where once Sisters and brothers met in frolic play.
Around, the wooded hills in beauty rise!
Earth has not many scenes more fair than this, And none more dear to those who called it Home!”
Our Sunday evening hymn-singing is vividly recalled, in which little Fanny soon took part. At this time our dear father was an invalid; music was his solace, and he composed cathedral services, also many hundreds of chants and tunes, and several sacred songs, the profits of which were always devoted to various Societies, home and foreign, and the restoration of churches.*
Beside the rich chords and tuneful song in our home, there were wise and holy influences.
* My father’s first published musical composition was a setting of Bishop Heber’s hymn, “From Greenland’s icy mountains.” The proceeds amounted to £180, and were devoted to the Church Missionary Society. In 1836 the Gresham prize medal was awarded to him for a cathedral service in A. In 1841 a second gold medal was adjudged for his anthem, “Give Thanks.”
Our parents’ prayers and example in searching the Scriptures, and their loving cheery ways, activity and punctuality, were the keynotes of our child-life.
One of our mother’s letters is given, written when Fanny was away on her first visit (1840).
I am so glad to hear how happy you are at Wycombe. Try and be very obedient to dear grandmamma and your sister Ellen, and I hope you will do all you can to please dear grandpapa. I miss you very much, and often think I hear you call “mamma,” or expect you are coming to me. You remember the three little babies at Dunley. Jane, the one that you nursed, is gone to heaven. May my Fanny know and love Jesus Christ! then she will be sure to go to heaven whether she dies young or old. Some of the seeds are come up in your garden; I love to watch them, because you helped me to sow them. Dear papa sends his love. Good bye, dear Fanny.
From dear Mamma,
In 1842 the living of Astley was resigned, and Henwick House, in the parish of Hallow, was our temporary home till our dear father’s appointment by Bishop Pepys to the Rectory of St. Nicholas, Worcester, in 1845. The only distinct remembrance of this time is of Frances’ delight in the gardens and long terrace walk at Henwick, with sundry agile tree climbings. Perhaps her first grief was the death of her little dog Flo, which was buried under the snowy Mespilus tree in the back lawn. The sheet of paper is preserved on which she wrote:
“Here lies little Flora. Died April 16th, 1844. Aged 7. Reverence her remains.”
Frances always took care to be in the drawing-room while a professor was giving German lessons. Without any one knowing it, she was listening and acquiring the language. When discovered, she had made such progress that Mr. Lorentz begged he might instruct her.
The treasured little book in which she wrote her childish hymns and rhymes begins with the following verses written at the age of seven.
Sunpay is a pleasant day,
When we to church do go;
For there we sing and read and pray,
And hear the sermon too.
On Sunday hear the village bells;
It seems as if they said,
Go to the church where the pastor tells
How Christ for man has bled.
And if we love to pray and read
While we are in our youth,
The Lord will help us in our need
And keep us in His truth.
All her rhymes are dated, and also some simple tales, written in a copybook for the benefit of her little niece Miriam. From nine years old and upwards she wrote long and amusingly descriptive letters, in perfect rhyme and rhythm, to her brother Frank and her young friends.
There would have been a long blank now but for the Autobiography of her inner child-life. It was written for her sister Maria, and unsealed only a few weeks ago. As the shadows on her morning pathway contrast with the light that shone more and more unto the perfect day, it is thought right to give these pages in all their truthful simplicity.