Friday 22 March 2024

Mary Steele Wakeford

Mary Steele Wakeford (1724-72) (“Amira”) was the daughter of William Steele III and his second wife, Anne Cator Steele; she was half-sister to William Steele IV and Anne Steele. In 1749 she became the second wife of Joseph Wakeford (d. 1785), bearing him four children (one died in infancy, the other at 13). Her poetry stands in marked contrast to the more polished poetry of her sister, often exhibiting a comic, even satiric, bent, laced with a fair amount of self-deprecation. Her two best poems are her witty companion pieces, “To Silvia” and “Silvia’s Rattle,” addressed to her niece, Mary Steele (“Silvia”) (1753-1813), a gifted poet in her own right and the literary heir of Anne Steele. That same year Wakeford's sole publication, “Jesus, and didst thou condescend,” appeared under her nom de plume "Amira" in A Collection of Hymns Adapted to Public Worship (1769), compiled by the Baptist ministers, John Ash of Pershore (brother of her sister-in-law) and Caleb Evans of Bristol (a long-time family friend). Like her mother, Mary Wakeford also kept a diary, but only a few entries copied by one of her descendants remain extant. Her children included William (1753-1819) and Mary (“Polly”) (1760-1824); another son, Samuel (b. 1754), died in 1767. She helped preserve the prose and poetry of her husband’s first wife, Hannah Wakeford (1725-46), as well as portions of the journal of Mrs John Walrond, wife of a nonconformist minister in Exeter and Ottery St Mary. She contributed to some poetic dialogues and competitions with Anne Steele and some of their literary friends, including several dissenting ministers.
Mary Steele Wakeford’s poetic collaborations with Anne Steele, as well as their correspondence, now reside in the Steele Collection, Angus Library, Regent’s Park College, Oxford, and have been published in Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840, vol 2. Thirteen poems by Wakeford, composed between 1748 and 1769, were copied into a small MS volume titled “Poems on Devotional Subjects” which also belongs to the Steele Collection, where it is joined by five occasional poems on loose sheets of paper. Three riddles by Wakeford can be found in the Reeves Collection, Bodleian Library, Oxford. The texts of these poems, along with a complete biographical account of Wakeford, can be found in Whelan, Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840, vol. 4, pp. 117-50.
For selected poems by Wakeford, click here; for her hymns, click here.

Letter to Mary Wakeford 1757 03

Anne Steele, [Broughton], to Mary Wakeford, [Andover], undated.

Why my Dear Sister must every lively thought be lost in a stupid inattention, & the prime of Life sink into the languid complaints of Age? Want of Health, ’tis true must render us less active, but shou’d not make us less seriously tho’tful
I have reflected of late with concern on the loss of my inclination for writing, even Verse, my darling amusement has almost lost its attractions. - I think I have heretofore found as much pleasure scribbling in my lovely retirement as a fine Lady cou’d do at a Ball, glittering among a crou’d of Belles & Beaus.- poor comparison! -’tis true I can have no notion of the high delight those gay flutterers taste, but as I imagine they are generally strangers to serious reflection, I think their entertainments deserve not to be nam’d with the pleasures enjoy’d by a Contemplative Mind. - My Seasons of thoughtful retirement have sometimes procur’d me an additional delight, my friends seem’d entertain’d & pleas’d, – seem’d did I say? - ’tis unworthy the sacred Name of Friendship to flatter or dissemble – I must believe that I once cou’d write to please my Friends: and so cou’d my Amira, I have lately been agreeably entertain’d in reading over some of her long-past favours, and begin to think that notwithstanding all our complaints of stupidity, ’tis possible the pleasing, and not an useful intercourse may be revived – however I have a mind to try, and after this long preface, begin with telling you some thoughts which occurr’d lately in an evening walk – My fears for my Mother being abated, and my own health a little mended, the verdure of the fields & stillness of the Air seem’d to invite to calm reflections – passing by Philanders Garden, and remembering what great care was lately taken lately to weed and put it in order against the approach of some expected visitors, a former observation recurr’d on the resemblance of a Garden to the Human Mind, and furnish’d hints for farther thought. - a Garden to be agreeable or useful must be cultivated with constant care & assiduity, the diligent Gardener may allways find something to do, here (he may say) is a weed I did not see yesterday, there is a valluable plant wants to be shelter’d from the Sun or Wind, this drooping Flower shou’d be supported, and yonder seeds lately sown, I must see if they begin to appear, or if any harmful insects are among them. - And is not all this my dear Amira our business? - but ah how unlike am I to the dilligent, the careful Gardener! - 

Here learn my Hand, & learn my Eye
The watchful, active, needful Art
Reflection wakes the conscious sigh
And points the Lesson to my heart

My Heart, how full of noxious, on at best of worthless Weeds! Many rise perhaps unnotic’d, some with feeble effort I attempt to pull up, and sometimes think I have succeeded, but soon find my self mistaken, they spring again, & convince me that the root was left behind. Ah wretched soil, which nourishes these vile natives, while useful plants are almost starv’d, and flowers just faintly opening, droop and lose their odours on the ground! Faith, Hope, and Love, Humility and holy Zeal, those Divine Exotic’s, those Flowers of Paradise! (if they are planted here) how little care in their cultivation, how little anxiety for their growth! if good impressions are sown, what crouds of busy trifling vanities, like swarming Insects are ready to devour them! And can I behold the mournful prospect unconcern’d? fatal indolence!—

My drowsy pow’rs why sleep ye so
Awake my sluggish Soul
Nothing has half thy work to do
Yet nothing’s half so dull – Watts

Shall my Neighbours Garden be made clean and neat for the entertainment of his expected Guests, and my Heart be full of weeds and rubbish beneath the inspection of the Great and Holy God? beneath the Eye of Infinite Purity which marks every mental disorder! - no longer let me dream away the precious hours in the midst of so much necessary and indispensible work. -   
O for the powerful Aids of Divine Grace, to rouze me in earnest from this inexcusable, this guilty lethargy! Without this, all my firmest resolutions and strongest efforts will be unavailing. - In vain, without the benign influences of Providential Goodness, were all the care and toil of the dilligent Gardener; vain the anxious thought the watchful eye, and laborious hand of Industry unless a Blessing from Heaven in seasonable Showers and chearing Sunshine attend them. - but may we not learn from Scripture, from Observation, and Experience, that both in Temporal and Spiritual Concerns, a Blessing attends the diligent. - Let us then my Sister my Friend (humbly relying on the promised assistance of Almighty Grace) mutually endeavour to quicken & stimulate each other in the important work before us. -
Let me have your thoughts in return, after which (if I have not tir’d you already) I may perhaps say a little more on this Subject – With the sincerest wishes for your Happiness I am my Dear Sister your affectionate Silviana

Text: STE 3/13/ix, Steele Collection, Angus Library, Regent's Park College, Oxford. No address page. For an annotated version of this letter, see Timothy Whelan, gen. ed., Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840 (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2011), vol. 2, ed. Julia B. Griffin, pp. 295-97.

Saturday 9 March 2024

Letter to Mary Wakeford 1757 02

Anne Steele, [Broughton], to Mary Wakeford, [Andover], undated.

Your proposal my dear Sister is very agreeable, I accept it with pleasure, but doubt my indolence will be a bar I shall be negligent unless you will try to can mend me by setting a good example. Why do you say you cant write to deserve my approbation? sure in a friendly correspondence sincerity is more engaging then eloquence and tho’ you do not want the latter, I hope you believe the first a sufficient recommendation to me—If you knew the present disposition of my mind you wou’d be convinc’d you are not alone in your complaint of stupidity—yet am I not so entirely sunk in it as to be unmov’d with that painful reflection thought when you are no more &c. This reflecn confirms the observation that all Earthly enjoyments blessing are uncertain and unsatisfying—but daily experience affords full conviction—and is not every such reflection a friendly monitor to point our wishes and our hopes to true substantial undecaying felicity— But ah how weak how languishing and low
My warmest wishes and my highest hopes
Could we maintain a constant nearness to God and dependance on him as our everlasting portion then shou’d we enjoy every comfort of Life in its true and proper relish and look present blessings as little rivulets of pleasure swiftly gliding from us yet leading us to the Eternal Source of Happiness This wou’d shed a pleasing lustre thro’ the most gloomy scenes of Life, and afford unfailing consolation in the most afflictive circumstances that can befal us, are we not assur’d that if we love God everything shall work for our Good? Have we not found it so? And is not the Divine Goodness unchangeable? Then why shou’d afflictions dangers or distresses in future prospect spread a gloom over present comforts Yet even timerous [sic] apprehensions if they do not sink into a distrustful anxiety may work our profit too, so far as they serve to convince us more fully of our own weakness and lead us to make the most high God our refuge and depend on the everlasting arm as our sure support.
You can’t think how much I am ^much^ pleas’d with your saying you know I will excuse you write how you will, tis kind and just but may I write to you with equal confidence – this confidence is kind and obliging, I wou’d say the same to you, but am I not under a little difficulty how will Portius if he sees my Letters so readily excuse me is it not too much like compliment to bid me not write as well as I can? I am sure I cannot write so well as I wou’d and believe I shall at best be far from discouraging you—In hope you have not quite lost your relish for verse I send a few lines, yet half doubting your approbation if perhaps you may find some poetical ^interval^ may when verse may be agreeable. If you shou’d do try again and send it to me ^my love^ in any dress—but I do not task you write how and what you will to your affectionate Silviana

May you be happy—I repeat my wish
But what is Happiness? A smiling ray
Mingled with clouds and breaking here & there
With cheerful radiance --- now it gayly shines
And now it disappears and Nature droops
Disconsolate.—frail momentary state
Of Earthly Bliss, how fleeting and how vain!
In vain we seek for Happiness on Earth.
Tis fix’d on high! beyond those gloomy Clouds
Forever shines with full meridian light
Immortal Bliss! And every smiling ray
Which breaks amid the shades of mortal Life
Is sent from Heaven to point our upward view
And guide our wishes to those blest abodes
Thither my dear Amira may you rise
In frequent thought and view the joys of Earth Time
In their true light as blessings only lent
To sweeten care and cheer the darksome way
Grateful enjoy nor mourn their transient date
While Faith extends her wing to bear your hopes
Sublime to joys all permanent and bright
In the fair Mansions of Eternal Day

To be sure I suppose you have been shocked with the news account of Mr Tauntons death – this fatal accident alarms my fears for my dear Father—O may God continue to preserve so valuable so important a Life in mercy to us all—
How difficult a duty is resignation here?—how earnestly shou’d we desire the powerful influences of Divine Grace to wean us from a too firm attachment to mortal comforts and teach us to fix our all of Happiness in God as our Heav’nly Father our Allmighty Friend—O may we be enabled to look beyond these uncertain blessings, these dying enjoyments, to that state of perfect unvariable felicity where the redeemed of the Lord shall be crown’d with everlasting joy and sorrow & sighing shall flee away whenever God is pleas’d to seperate [sic] us from our dearest friends O may the parting pangs be soften’d with the delightful hope the joyful assurance that we shall meet in that blissful world and united in stronger ties then Nature knows rejoice together in the presence of God & of the Lamb for ever and ever—And while we pity the distressful circumstances of those who are by this awful surprizing Providence depriv’d of a Father and a Husband and simpathize [sic] in their sorrows let us adore the Divine Goodness which has hitherto preserv’d us and our dear relatives

Text: STE 3/10/vii Steele Collection, Angus Library, Regent's Park College, Oxford. No address page. For an annotated version of this letter, see Timothy Whelan, gen. ed., Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840 (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2011), vol. 2, ed. Julia B. Griffin, pp. 293-95. This letter is written just after the death of a Mr. Taunton, probably a member of the Broughton church.

Friday 1 March 2024

10 Well Known Female Hymnwriters

  1. Fanny Crosby
  2. Charlotte Elliott
  3. Ada R Habershon
  4. Katherine Hankey
  5. Frances Ridley Havergal
  6. Anne Steele
  7. Elizabeth Head
  8. Mrs C|ecil F Alexander
  9. Jemima Luke
  10. Anna B Warner

Letter to Mary Wakeford 1757 01

Anne Steele, [Broughton], to Mary Wakeford, [Andover], undated.

I long to see and converse with my Amira, perhaps the more because I find it, at present, impracticable to reach her. It is, however in my power to talk a little on paper (I wish you were able to reply) but what shall be the Subject? the little cares & trifling amusements of Time? - no - for we are borderers on Eternity. - The declining year, as well as my weak state of body, reminds me that all things are tending to their dissolution. Where are all the flowery beauties which adorn’d the lively Spring? And where the ruddy fruits which fill’d the lap of Autumn? The Gardens have resign’d their lovely ornaments & the Trees their vegetable wealth: even the leaves their late verdant robes are fading away with every blast, and soon will leave their owners naked and to appearance dead. Winter is coming, cold, joyless  - Winter!no fragrant blossoms shall embalm perfume the air, no lively songsters warble from the spray: nor Autumn shall embrown the ripening field, nor paint the blushing fruit. All the scene abroad will be comfortless and desolate! - But let us reflect that in this universal devastation of the charms of nature, the revolving year is bringing on their certain renovation. Again the blooming Spring shall display her flowery beauties; again the Summer Sun shall ripen the various productions of the Earth, again the fields and orchards yield their autumnal stores. The Laws of Nature are unalterably fixed, and still the changing Seasons shall return at their appointed period, ‘till that tremendous hour when the Angel of God shall swear by him that liveth for ever & ever that “there shall be Time no longer.” To the truth of this we yield our full assent without the least hesitation. But why, my dear Amira, while we see his Almighty hand, and confess & adore the God of Nature & Providence, why are we so slow of heart to believe what he hath revealed as the God of Grace? Hath not the word of Truth assured us that “this mortal shall put on Immortality[”]? Hath not the Lord of Life himself said, “He that believeth in me, tho’ he were dead yet shall he live”? nor has he only given the inviolable promise of future Life, he assures his faithful followers that this blessed, this eternal Life is actually begun, “He that believeth on me hath everlasting Life.” Everlasting Life begun in those precious seeds of vital Grace & Holiness which his own hand hath implanted in their hearts; and which, under his benign influences, spring up & make some real, tho’ faint & perhaps almost imperceptible advances towards maturity; that full maturity to which they shall certainly rise when transplanted to their native Clime; and bloom forever fragrant in the Paradise of God. Yes my dear Amira, as surely as that Almighty Friend lives, on whose all-sufficient merits perfect Righteousness & precious Promises we fix our only hope; so surely shall those who believe in & depend upon him, live with him in the mansions of Eternal Joy: for he hath said “Because I live ye shall live also. Sooner shall the Sun forget his annual round and leave the Earth to everlasting Winter: sooner shall universal Nature sink into Chaos than the word of Truth shall fail. Let us hearken, with the most affectionate gratitude hearken to the kind encouraging words of our dear Redeemer, “Let not your hearts be troubled, ye believe in God, believe also in me.” We believe in the God of Nature and Providence; O may we believe with a more steady & cheerful affiance in the God of Grace! in his immutable Word, in his beloved Son our Omnipotent and ever gracious Saviour! - How desirable a blessing in Faith in lively exercise! What a divine support under present afflictions or apprehended sufferings! By this was David enabled to say “Tho’ I walk thro’ the vally [sic] of the shadow of Death I will fear no evil for thou art with me.” Let us pray, pray earnestly for our selves and each other Lord increase our Faith. O that the prayers of her friends for my dear Amira may be graciously answered! and O that our great Mediator’s infinite merits & prevailing intercessions may prove for you divine supports, heavenly consolations in every painful hour in every time of need! and may you long be continued a blessing ^to your friends^ & to your dear little ones may yr heart experience & yr Life confess the Love of Jesus & ye powerful influences of his Grace when this wish breathes to heaven for yr self & yr friends remem[ber] your affectte Silviana

Text: STE 3/13/vi. Steele Collection, Angus Library, Regent's Park College, Oxford. No address page. For an annotated version of this letter, see Timothy Whelan, gen. ed., Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840 (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2011), vol. 2, ed. Julia B. Griffin, pp. 291-92. This letter is written after 1755, for reference is made to Wakeford’s “dear little ones,” referring to William and Samuel, her two sons at that time. Most probably it is c. 1757.