Yorkshire Almanac Samuel Hick, apprentice blacksmith, overcomes his pacifist leanings to rescue the Wesleyan Richard Burdsall from an Anglican assailant at York

27 May 1776: Samuel Hick, apprentice blacksmith, overcomes his pacifist leanings to rescue the Wesleyan Richard Burdsall from an Anglican assailant at York

James Everett. 1831. The Village Blacksmith, 2nd Ed. London: Hamilton, Adams, and Co. Get it:

Unedited excerpt

If an excerpt is used in the book, it will be shorter, edited and, where applicable, translated.

In 1776, when he had attained his eighteenth year, it being customary for the young people of the neighbouring towns and villages, to visit the city of York, on Whit-Monday, in order to witness scenes of folly and dissipation, especially wrestling-matches and fights, the victors having prizes conferred upon them, he joined his companions, repaired to the spot, and became a spectator. But being naturally humane, and not having undergone any course of brutal discipline, to render callous the better and more tender feelings of his heart, he was not able to enter into the spirit of such gladiatorial scenes – scenes more worthy of Greece and of Rome in their pagan state, than of Christian Britain. This was not his element; it was to him a scene of “misery and cruelty,” as he afterwards stated; and averting his eyes from the objects, he was suddenly attracted by another crowd of people, occupying another part of the same public ground, encircling a person who was elevated for the occasion, and seemed, by his attitude, to be haranguing his hearers. Samuel left his associates, and before the maddened yells and shouts of profanity had died upon his ear, and for which that ear had not been tuned, he was saluted with a hymn; – the two extremes furnishing an epitome of heaven and hell – the one seen from the other, as the rich man beheld Lazarus, – only, with this important difference, among others, – no impassable “gulph” was “fixed” between; “so that they which would pass from” one to the other, might avail themselves of the privilege. This was a moment of deep interest; and on this single act, through the Divine Being’s putting special honour upon it, might hinge, in a great measure, the bearings of his future life. He was partial to singing, and as the hymn was sung in different parts, he was the more delighted. The conspicuous figure in the centre, was the late Richard Burdsall, of York, father of the Rev. John Burdsall, who had, with his usual daring, entered the field against the enemy, and was mounted on what Samuel designated a “block,” for the purpose of giving him a greater advantage over his auditory, while animadverting on the profligacy of the times.[Fn: The Wesleyan Methodists have always been distinguished for their zealous attempts to reclaim the worst part of human nature first: for this purpose they have resorted to markets, feasts, and fairs; and in looking at the situation of some of their oldest chapels Whitby, and other places_it will be found, that they frequently pitched their tents in the most Sodomitish parts of a town, with a view to improve the more depraved as well as the lower grades of society.] Mr. Burdsall was remarkably popular in his day, and was just such a character, as a preacher, as Samuel, from the peculiar construction of his own mind, was likely to fix upon-one who would, on comparing the one with the other, have stood at the head of the same class at school, in which Samuel would have been placed at the foot; both being fit for the class, as well as of it, – only the one having attained to greater proficiency than the other, in a somewhat similar line.[Fn: Quaintness, wit, and imagination, were rarely absent in Mr. B. Speaking to the writer once, in the city of York, on his early call to the ministry, he said, “I seem to have been something like a partridge; I run away with the shell on my head.”]

Samuel’s attention was soon gained, and his affection won, which, to Mr. Burdsall, was of no small importance; for as he was proceeding with the service, a clergyman advanced towards him, declaring, that “ he should not preach there, not if he were the Lord Mayor himself,” threatening to “pull him down from the block.” Just as he was preparing to carry his designs into execution, Samuel, whose love to the preacher was such, that he felt, as he observed, as if he “could lose the last drop of his “blood” in his defence, stepped up to the clergyman, clenched his hands, and holding them in a menacing form to his face, accosted him in the abrupt and measured terms of the ring upon which he had but a few minutes before been gazing, – “Sir, if you disturb that man of God, I will drop you as sure as ever you were born.” There was too much emphasis in the expression, and too much fire in the eye, to admit a doubt that he was in earnest. The reverend gentleman felt the force of it – his countenance changed – the storm which was up in Samuel had allayed the tempest in him – and he looked with no small concern for an opening in the crowd, by which he might make his escape. Samuel, though unchanged by divine grace, had too much nobleness of soul in him, to trample upon an opponent, who was thus in a state of humiliation before him, and therefore generously took him under his protection – made a passage for him through the audience and conducted him to the outskirts without molestation, when he quickly disappeared. The manner in which this was done, the despatch employed, and the sudden calm after the commotion, must have produced a kind of dramatic effect on the minds of religious persons, who, nevertheless, in the midst of their surprise, gratitude, and even harmless mirth at the precipitate flight of their disturber, who was converted in an instant by a mere stripling from the lion to the timid hare, would be no more disposed to justify the clenched fist – the earth helping the woman in this way – than they could be brought to approve of the zeal of Peter, when, by a single stroke, he cut off the right ear of the high priest’s servant. Samuel instantly resumed the attitude of an attentive hearer, without any apparent emotions from what had just transpired. In the launching forth of his hand, he gave as little warning as the bolt of heaven; the flash of his eye was like the lightning’s glare-a sudden burst of passion, withering for the moment – seen – and gone.

Whit Monday is on 25 May 2026.

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To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

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19 April 1747: The Methodist John Nelson is attacked by an affluent mob while preaching at Heworth Moor and Acomb (York) on Easter Sunday

24 January 1826: Samuel Hick, blacksmith and Methodist preacher of Micklefield (Leeds), writes to his “dear bosom frend and beloved wife” and daughter Jan

16 November 1814: Blacksmith Samuel Hick pantomimes for Selby Wesleyans a dream in which he sails to the West Indies to liberate the slaves

6 May 1744: John Nelson, one of the first Methodist preachers, finds the welcome from gaoler James Barber at Leeds Gaol superior to the accommodation

15 August 1781: The ineffably peripatetic John Wesley discovers a movable pulpit in Sheffield

18 July 1784: Wesley finds children “restrained from open sin” at one of the first Sunday schools, at Bingley

30 July 1820: Primitive Methodists try to disrupt the traditional Maudlin Fair football match between Hedon and Preston (Holderness)

9 May 1757: John Wesley rides into Huddersfield in the Wild West Riding

16 April 1883: General Booth rebuts the Bishop of Oxford’s claim that the Salvation Army organises mixed darkroom sessions at York

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Via Roy Hattersley, who I guess had a peep at the Records of Convocation:

When the Upper House of the Canterbury Convocation met on 10 April 1883, Dr John Mackerness, Bishop of Oxford, supported by Dr James, Bishop of Hereford, accused the Salvationists of actually promoting sexual licence. He was echoing the view, first expressed by the Reverend E. Bickersteth, who had claimed that All Night Prayer Meetings always involved ‘the grossest immoralities’. That allegation had been categorically denied by William Booth, but it was soon regarded as confirmation of a rumour, rife in south London, that the Hackney Union Infirmary accommodated several young women whose pregnancies were the result of participation in Holiness Meetings. The Bishop of Oxford’s claim was even more specific. Soldiers in York practised what they called ‘Crawling for Jesus’ – two hours each Sunday evening in a darkened room during which the celebrants, on hands and knees, fondled everyone they could touch. The Bishop of Hereford supported the proposal made by Dr Mackerness that an enquiry be set up to determine if the Salvation Army was a force for good or evil. William Booth wrote to both bishops, and to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the day after the proposal was made. Never has indignation been so righteous: ‘It seems to me very hard that the outrageous statements constantly made in regard to us should be credited without our having an opportunity to reply to them. There is no doubt that such an accusation made in such a quarter will be used in such a way in the Press as to greatly increase the ill-usage of our poor people on the streets.’ And so it was. The Skeleton Armies attacked the Salvationists in the name of sexual morality, indiscriminately assaulting both the men whom they claimed perpetuated the outrages, and the women whose virtue they claimed to cherish (Hattersley 2000).

My emphasis:

The Bishop of Oxford said that the “Army” called for holiness of life on the part of its members but its action had led to deplorable consequences and to unholiness of life. It was impossible to suppose that there could be holiness of life when young persons of both sexes were called together in exciting meetings, held up to a late hour at night, and then permitted to go away without moral control. His lordship thought that attention should be called to the deplorable consequences of this working of the organization, some of which he mentioned (Times 1883/04/11).

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