Saturday, 31 October 2026

Watford Congregational Church, Caerffili



I have recently removed to Caerffili in South Wales. Nearby is the Watford Congregational Chapel. On the building it states that the congregation was founded in 1662. The text carved into the stone plaque reads:
WATFORD
CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH
ORGANISED 1662
BUILDING ERECTED 1739
ALTERED 1842 & 1877
ENLARGED 1900

Friday, 22 August 2025

History Today Article


On 24 August 1662 those clergy who refused to accept the Book of Common Prayer were to be ejected from the Church of England. How many paid the price for their non-conformity?In the Declaration of Breda of April 1660, Charles II promised ‘liberty to tender consciences’. But his first parliament, summoned the following year, was less keen. In May 1662 it passed an Act of Uniformity demanding all clergymen accept the newly issued Book of Common Prayer by 24 August, St Bartholomew’s Day, that year. Those that didn’t would be evicted from their livings.

There were problems with that. Some were doctrinal. Charles’ religious settlement required the return of the episcopacy, something anathema to the presbyterians. Other problems were practical: the first copies of the revised prayer book didn’t come off the presses until 6 August. How was every churchman to receive a copy by the deadline, never mind square it with their conscience? Even in Middlesex, it was said, very few places received it until ‘a week, a fortnight, three weeks, or a month after’.

For non-conformists, the deadline would be remembered as ‘Black Bartholomew’s Day’ or the ‘Great Ejection’. But how great an ejection was it? Edmund Calamy, whose father and grandfather both lost their livings, tried to work it out. In total, he would name 1,897.

But, as A.G. Matthews, Calamy’s 20th-century editor, found, that number was far from reliable. Matthews noted 47 individuals listed who were dead by August 1662, 41 who were duplicated, and 113 for whom he could find no record at all. Moreover, Calamy also included those churchmen who were evicted at the Restoration in 1660 when returning loyalists wanted their livings back. Matthews calculated 695 of those.

Still, Matthews’ final total of 936 is higher than that calculated by high-church clergyman John Walker, who was so incensed by Calamy’s work that he set out to rebut it. His work, ten years in the writing, was published in 1714; Matthews calls it a ‘monumental piece of hate and patience’. Walker generously allowed that as many as 50 non-conformists might have lost their livings in 1662; although, he noted, ‘I do not at present remember to have met with an instance of more than one’. 

Saturday, 19 April 2025

William Bridge c 1600-1670


Bridge was a leading English Independent minister and religious and political writer. A native of Cambridgeshire, he was probably born in or around the year 1600. He studied at the Puritan Emmanuel College, Cambridge, receiving an MA in 1626.
For a short time in 1631, he was a lecturer at Colchester, put in place by Harbottle Grimstone and Robert Rich, second Earl of Warwick; very much against the wishes of Laud, then Bishop of London, who complained of the influence then held by Sibbes and William Gouge, clerical leaders of the Feoffees for Impropriations. From 1637, he lived in Norwich as Rector of St Peter Hungate and St George's, Tombland. He came into conflict with Matthew Wren, Bishop of Norwich for Nonconformity. He went into exile in Rotterdam, taking the position left vacant by Hugh Peters. Charles I of on hearing from Archbishop Laud that Bridge had "gone to Holland", "... rather than [that] he will conform" replied, "Let him go: we are well rid of him."
He returned to Great Yarmouth and became a member of the Westminster Assembly. There he was one of the Five Dissenting Brethren, the small group of leading churchmen who emerged at the head of the Independent faction, opposing the Presbyterian majority, and who composed An Apollegeticall Narration in 1643.
In 1643, he preached before Charles I, making a direct attack on the Queen.
He was Minister at the Old Meeting House Norwich for several years right up until his death.
Works
A Lifting Up for the Downcast
The Wounded Conscience Cured, the Weak One Strengthened and the Doubting Satisfied by Way of Answer to Doctor Ferne (1642)
Ioabs covnsell and King Davids seasonable hearing it (1643), Fast Sermon for February 22
The truth of the times vindicated (1643)
The righteous man's habitation in the time of plague and pestilence: being a brief exposition of the XCI. Psalm (1835)
The refuge: containing the righteous man's habitation in the time of plague and pestilence: being a brief exposition of the 91st Psalm (1832)
The works of the Rev. William Bridge in Five Volumes
A large collected Works of the Rev. William Bridge was published in 1845, and reprinted in 1989 in five hardback volumes by Soli Deo Gloria Publications.

Thursday, 17 April 2025

MacArthur on the Great Ejection

Have you ever heard of a church that repented? Not individuals, but an entire church that collectively recognized its congregational transgressions and openly, genuinely repented, with biblical sorrow and brokenness.
Sadly, you probably have not.
For that matter, have you ever heard of a pastor who called his church to repent and threatened his congregation with divine judgment if they failed to do so?
It’s not likely. Pastors today seem to have a hard enough time calling individuals to repent, let alone calling the whole church to account for their corporate sins. In fact, if a pastor were so bold as to lead his own church to repent, he might not be the pastor for much longer. At minimum, he would face resistance and scorn from within the congregation. That inevitable backlash is likely strong enough to generate a kind of preemptive fear, keeping most church leaders from ever considering a call for corporate repentance.
On the other hand, if a pastor or church leader has the temerity to call for another church—rather than his own—to repent, he will almost certainly be accused of being critical, divisive, and overstepping his authority. He’ll face a chorus of voices telling him to mind his own business. Vilifying him, therefore, clears a path for the confronted church to sidestep his admonition altogether.
The fact is, churches rarely repent. Churches that start down a path of worldliness, disobedience, and apostasy typically move even further from orthodoxy over time. They almost never recover their original soundness. Rarely are they broken over their collective sins against the Lord. Rarely do they turn aside from corruption, immorality, and false doctrine. Rarely do they cry out from the depths of their hearts for forgiveness, cleansing, and restoration. Most never even consider it, because they have become comfortable with their condition.
In reality, calling the church to repent and reform can be very dangerous. Church history is replete with examples.

The Great Ejection
The name “Puritan” was devised as a term of derision and scorn. It was applied to a group of Anglican pastors in England in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries who sought to purify the church of its remaining Roman Catholic influences and practices. These Puritan pastors repeatedly called for the churches of England to repent of their extensive carnality, heresy, and priestly corruption. But the Anglican Church would not repent. They could not deny the need for reformation, but they wanted a “middle way” rather than a thorough reformation.
Those who held the reins in the Anglican hierarchy remained impenitent—but not passive. They were determined to silence the voices calling them to repentance. For decades, the Puritans faced hostility and persecution from church leaders and political rulers alike. Many suffered and died for their faith, while many more endured imprisonment and torture for the sake of Christ. The persecution reached a crescendo in 1662, when the English Parliament issued the Act of Uniformity. The decree essentially outlawed anything other than strict Anglican doctrine and practice. That led to a monumental and tragic day in England’s spiritual history: August 24, 1662, commonly known as the Great Ejection. On that day, two thousand Puritan pastors were stripped of their ordination and permanently thrown out of their Anglican churches.
Those faithful Puritans understood that the Church of England had to repent and reform before the nation would ever turn to Christ. But rather than reject their wickedness and corruption, the impenitent leaders of the Church of England attempted to silence anyone calling for repentance and restoration.
Subsequent history reveals that the Great Ejection was no isolated event with temporary significance. The spiritual turmoil did not end once the Puritans were excommunicated and separated from their congregations. In fact, it’s safe to say that the Great Ejection was a spiritual disaster that serves as a clear and dark dividing line in England’s history, and which has implications to the present day.
One of those ejected ministers was Matthew Meade. Concerning the Great Ejection, he wrote, “This fatal day deserves to be written in black letters in England’s calendar.” [1] Iain Murray describes the spiritual fallout of that dark day:
After the silencing of the 2,000, we enter an age of rationalism, of coldness in the pulpit and indifference in the pew, an age in which scepticism and worldliness went far to reducing national religion to a mere parody of New Testament Christianity. [2]
J. B. Marsden saw the event as an invitation for the Lord’s judgment. He wrote,
If it be presumptuous to fix upon particular occurrences as proofs of God’s displeasure; yet none will deny that a long, unbroken, course of disasters indicates but too surely, whether to a nation or a church, that his favour is withdrawn. Within five years of the ejection of the two thousand nonconformists, London was twice laid waste. [3]
He wasn’t wrong. The Great Ejection occurred in the summer of 1662. In 1665, an epidemic of the bubonic plague struck London, killing more than 100,000 people, roughly one quarter of its population. The following year, a massive fire swept through London, incinerating more than 13,000 homes, nearly a hundred churches—including St. Paul’s Cathedral—and decimating most of the city. Many historians agreed with Marsden, viewing those disasters as divine retribution for England’s impenitence.
Still, those disasters don’t compare to the spiritual consequences of England’s apostasy. After citing the plague and the fire, Marsden continued, “Other calamities ensued, more lasting and far more terrible. Religion in the church of England was almost extinguished, and in many of her parishes the lamp of God went out.” [4]
J. C. Ryle, who served as the bishop of Durham in the late 1800s, summed up the spiritual cost of the Anglican Church’s impenitence this way: “I believe [the Great Ejection] did an injury to the cause of true religion in England, which will probably never be repaired.” [5] Indeed, over the centuries that followed, England has succumbed to a culture of liberalism, overrun with cold, dead churches and awash in apostasy and spiritual darkness.
And despite the centuries of foul fruit that sprang from the Act of Uniformity and the Great Ejection, the Church of England failed to achieve its primary goal. The Puritans were scattered, but not silenced. Many of the men who were ejected from their churches went on to have influence that continues to this day. Spiritual stalwarts such as Richard Baxter, John Flavel, Thomas Brooks, and Thomas Watson were among those who lost their pulpits in 1662 but faithfully carried on as outlaw preachers. Along with many others, they continued to expose the corruption of the Anglican Church, calling for its repentance.

Friday, 25 October 2024

George Swinnock 1627-1673


George Swinnock was born at Maidstone in Kent in 1627, the son of George Swinnock of Maidstone, whose father was mayor of the borough. Owing to the death of his father, George Swinnock, jun., was brought up in the house of his uncle Robert, a zealous Puritan. He was educated at the Puritan Emmanuel College, Cambridge, whence he removed on 7 October 1645 to Jesus College graduating BA in 1647–8 then proceeding to Oxford to obtain preferment, entering as a commoner at Magdalen Hall.
On 19 January 1648–9 Swinnock became chaplain at New College, and on 6 October following he was made a fellow of Balliol College by the parliamentary visitors. He was incorporated BA on 29 November 1650, and graduated MA on the next day. In the same year he resigned his fellowship and was appointed vicar of Rickmansworth in Hertfordshire.
In 1655 he was appointed to St Leonard's chapel at Aston Clinton in Buckinghamshire and on 10 January 1661 was presented to the vicarage of Great Kimble in the same county by Richard Hampden, to whom he was then chaplain. In the following year he was ejected for nonconformity, both from St Leonard's and Great Kimble and took up his abode with the Hampden family at Great Hampden.
Upon the issue of the Declaration of Indulgence in 1672 he retired to Maidstone, where he became pastor to a large congregation. He died 10 November 1673 and was buried in the parish church. He was survived by his wife and nine children.
Swinnock has been described as "a man of good abilities, and a serious, warm, and practical preacher."

Writings
Swinnock was the author of:
The Door of Salvation Opened, London, 1660, 8vo and 4to; 3rd edition, 1671.
The Christian Man's Calling, London, 1661–5, 4to.
Heaven and Hell Epitomised, London, 1659, 8vo.
The Incomparableness of God, London, 1672, 4to.
The Sinner's last Sentence, London, 1675, 8vo.
Life of Thomas Wilson, 1672, 8vo.

A collective edition of hid 'Works' was published in 1665, London, 4to, containing "The Christian Man's Calling" and "Heaven and Hell Epitomised", as well as several shorter treatises and sermons. This five volume set of Swinnock's works is now made available by Banner of Truth Trust.
(This article incorporates text from a publication now in the public domain: Carlyle, Edward Irving (1898). "Swinnock, George". In Lee, Sidney (ed.). Dictionary of National Biography. Vol. 55. London: Smith, Elder & Co. p. 235.
Beeke, J. R., Pederson, R. J. (2006). Meet the Puritans: Reformation Heritage books: ISBN 978-1-60178-000-3)

Banner of Truth Calendar 2025


The Banner of Truth Trust have produced what they are calling a Great Ejection Calendar fro 2025. They say that the calendar is ideal for home or office use and will features hoice quotes from English ministers of the ‘Great Ejection’ of 1662. An ideal Christmas present they suggrst  - one for £8 or five for £30 (25% off RRP). Rg calendar features a month to a view and each month features an attractive British artwork, with a quote from a minister affected by the Great Ejection of 1662 The calendar also features coupon codes to get 20% off a different Banner book each month.

Monday, 21 August 2023

The Passing of Black Bartholomew (3/3)



EVEN though Farewell Sermons had been preached in many parishes on Sunday, August 17, there was a widespread feeling of uncertainty throughout the nation with regard to the direction and character of coming events. Something of this uncertainty can be detected in the words of some of the sermons that were preached on that day. We find, for example, Thomas Watson saying to his people in his morning sermon, “I will not promise that I shall still preach among you, nor will I say that I shall not, I desire to be guided by the silver thread of God’s Word, and of God’s providence.” But, on the other hand, speaking on the same day in another London church, Thomas Lye said, “It is most probable, beloved, whatever others may think, but in my opinion (God may work wonders) neither you nor I shall ever see the faces of, or have a word more to speak to one another till the day of judgment.” The variation between these two statements does not mean that Lye was more resolute than Watson in his decision not to subscribe to the Act of Uniformity, on that point they were both equally firm; but there lies behind the words of the preachers a differing degree of un­certainty whether or not the Act would actually be enforced against them.

They were not without grounds for hopefulness, for although the Act had been passed by Parliament, the King could still exercise his clemency in an Act of Indulgence by which at least some of those who failed to conform might be allowed by the royal prerogative to retain their churches. For Clarendon, the King’s minister, had just promised such a favour to Manton, Bates, Calamy and other Puritans, provided they petitioned the King for it. This news would doubtless be circulated and discussed amongst the London ministers and word of it was carried to the country. The diary of John Angier, the Lancashire Puritan, carries this entry in the week preceding Bartholomew’s Day: “August 20 was a day of general seeking God in reference to the state of the Church; that very day several ministers were before some of the Council and received encouragement to go on in the ministry. A letter read to them from the King to the Bishops that no man should be troubled for Non­conformity at least till his cause was heard before the Council. The news came to Manchester by Saturday post and was that night dispersed by messengers sent to several places. By means hereof many ministers that intended not to preach fell to their work, which caused great joy in many congregations.” Similarly, Henry New­come of Manchester writes in his diary on Bartholomew’s Eve, “I received a letter from Mr. Ashurst which gave us an account that past all expectation there was some indulgence to be hoped for in some cases.”

Clarendon’s promise was not merely a device to ease the tension in the nation till Bartholomew’s Day was passed. [1] He and the King had also grounds for uncertainty. They were not sure what the political repercussions of a wholesale ejection of the Puritans might be; the number of the nonconforming clergy was still unknown, although it was evident they would include some of the most eminent names in the land; and there was the fear lest the powerful Presbyterian party might make common cause with the Indepen­dents and thus, in Clarendon’s words, “give a great shock to the present settlement.” Charles, however, was also busy with other affairs. The previous May he had married Catherine of Braganza, and Saturday, August 23, was the day appointed for her public arrival and welcome at Whitehall. Amidst a brilliant regatta of barges and boats, the King and his Roman Catholic Queen sailed down the river from Hampton Court; “music floated from bands on deck, and thundering peals roared from pieces of ordnance on shore”. “I was spectator,” wrote John Evelyn in his diary, “of the most magnificent triumph that ever floated on the Thames.” But there were many in London that day that had no heart for the festivities. Far removed in thought from the colour and pageantry of the Queen’s arrival, a great company of silent and mourning believers was gathered in the parish of St. Austin’s for the burial of Simeon Ashe. Ashe had long been one of the popular Puritan leaders and “he went seasonably to heaven,” says Calamy, “at the very time when he was cast out of the Church. He was bury’d the very even of Bartholomew-Day.” The historian’s grandfather, the veteran Edmund Calamy of St. Mary Aldermanbury, was naturally the preacher on such an occasion, and that day he preached a sermon that was to be spoken of and read over for many years to come. His text was Isaiah 57:1, “The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart, and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous are taken away from the evil to come.” The sermon is one of the finest examples of Puritan preach­ing, and though it does not strictly belong to the Farewell Sermons it is not surprising that it was given a place in the volume that was shortly to bear that title. Though Calamy packs his exposition with doctrines, he so blends his teaching with illustration, and his reproofs with exhortations, that he was in no danger of losing the attention of his hearers. Take the following example: ...

Sunday, 20 August 2023

The Last Summer (2/3)




THOUGH many of the Puritan ministers were far removed from the intrigues and disputations going on in London, they were never­theless deeply concerned in their outcome and throughout the land they waited for word from the capital. For many months before the Act of Uniformity was published rumours were circulating, and even amidst the peaceful beauties of far-off Flintshire we can hear their echoes in the diaries of Philip Henry. “Great expectations,” he writes in July 1661, “about a severe Act about imposing the Common prayer and Ceremonies passed both houses of Parliament but not signed by the King.” Again, “News from London of speedy severity intended against the Nonconformists. The Lord can yet, if he will, break the snare. If not, welcome the will of God.”

Although news of an Act of Uniformity had thus been heard of well in advance, it was not, as has already been said, until May 1662 that its terms were made known. Three months only were given the Puritans for deliberation and that in spite of the fact that the revised Prayer Book to which they must give unfeigned assent was not to be ready for publication till August 6–only three weeks before St. Bartholomew’s Day. In an age in which books had to be despatched and circulated in a manner far different from what we are accustomed to today, this meant that in certain parts of the country such as Lancashire, ministers could not obtain copies before August 22, and in some cases not even then. We hear of one ejected minister who was subsequently to complain that he was silenced for not declaring his consent to a Book which he never saw or could see.

The shortness of the interval allowed to the Puritans before the Act was enforced also hindered the assembling of any national Conference to formulate a joint decision. It is true, of course, that much correspondence circulated in these three months of trial and anxiety, and those who could do so met together for mutual con­sultation, but, in general, it was in the quietness of their own homes that they arrived by prayer and thought at the individual decisions they were to make. The diary of Oliver Heywood, the faithful minister of Coley in Yorkshire, gives us a glimpse of what was being felt within men’s hearts all over the land. After noting the threats he had already received from ecclesiastical authorities, Heywood goes on to encourage himself in the thought that he was not alone in these trials: “Hitherto God hath helped: and now I am but in the same predicament with the rest of my brethren in the ministry since the passing of this fatal act of uniformity, which we are waiting for the execution of, which commenceth from the 24th of August, which if not prevented will strike dead most of the godly ministers in England.” Heywood was in no doubt whether or not he should comply with the Act: “the conditions are too hard to be accepted. Woe be to us, if we preach not the gospel! but a double woe to us, if we enervate the gospel by legal ceremonies …. Our work is dear to us; but God is dearer, and we must not do the least evil to obtain the greatest good. There are worldly advantages enough to sway us to conformity, if conscience did not answer all the pleas of flesh and blood. The bargain will be too hard to provide a livelihood by making shipwreck of faith and a good conscience. God can advance his work without our sinful shifts, and rear up monuments to his glory without our complying pre­varications: suffering may benefit the gospel as much as service, when God calls to it.” ....

A Gathering Storm: Build-Up to the Great Ejection (1/3)


We are coming up to August 24 and the Banner of Truth has posted three timely articles by Iain Murray on their website. The first can be accessed here. It begins

On 24 August 1662, the English Parliament passed an Act designed to exclude and ‘utterly disable’ a group of religious ministers within the Established (i.e. Anglican) Church. The immediate effect of the Act of Uniformity of 1662 was the forced departure of over hundreds of gospel ministers from the churches they served. Moreover, it represented the beginning of a wave of persecution aimed at completely silencing these already-deprived Christian leaders. In the following article, Iain H. Murray explains the build-up to what would become known as the Great Ejection, or ‘Black Bartholomew’s Day’.

ON August 30, 1658, Oliver Cromwell, at the age of 59, lay dying in the Palace of Whitehall. Outside a great storm was blowing across the red tiles and ancient spires of London’s roof-tops, such as had not been remembered for a hundred years, but within the soul of the Lord Protector of England there was peace: “The Lord hath filled me,” he murmured, “with as much assurance of His pardon and His love as my soul can hold …. I am more than a conqueror through Christ that strengtheneth me.” Four days later the greatest soldier and statesman of the age had fought his last battle and entered the land “where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.”

Cromwell had embodied in his own person the two great principles which had inspired the nation sixteen years before to rise against the absolutism of the Stuart monarchy–the right of the people to freedom from oppression and the duty of preserving Protestantism from error and spiritual tyranny. As long as Cromwell was alive he struggled for a settlement that would enable these two principles to exist harmoniously together. But if the constitutional difficulties that had arisen since the Civil Wars made the problem too great for Cromwell, it was certainly beyond the abilities of those to whose charge he left the nation. As long as the greater part of a nation remains unregenerate, political freedom may not lead to the advancement of the Gospel, and Cromwell, being forced by the course of events–as he interpreted them–to an unhappy choice between the two, chose the latter. The Protector’s death resulted in a political crisis which made the choice yet more difficult, and the Puritans, as a body, were divided in their reaction to it. The Independents, such as John Owen and Thomas Goodwin who had been closest to Cromwell, believed that the spiritual gains that had been made since the Long Parliament had broken the power with which the Bishops had cramped the nation’s religious life could best be preserved by a Commonwealth. But as the years of Crom­well’s Protectorate had already shown, such a form of government would have to rely, for a time at least, upon the army for its strength, as it would never be chosen by the general consent of the people, and what would then become of the political freedom which the Commons had fought to preserve? It was thus clear to the majority that the country could find no security against anarchy or military dictatorship save in the old constitutional government based upon a Monarchy and a free Parliament. This had, in fact, long been the conviction of the largest of the Puritan parties–the Presbyterians. Though they had resisted the absolutism of Charles I they had never been against monarchy as such, and after the turmoil that followed the death of Cromwell they were more convinced than ever of the political necessity of recalling Charles Stuart to his father’s throne. But if Charles returned what would become of the spiritual freedom which they cherished? They had not forgotten how monarchy and episcopacy had been combined since the Church settlement of Queen Elizabeth against the more thorough­going Protestantism of Puritanism. It is not surprising therefore that while the Presbyterians saw the need of restoring the monarchy they were conscious of the possibility that such a political settlement might lead to a spiritual defeat.

Charles was not ignorant of their fears and of his need to calm them. He knew that the co-operation of the strongest Puritan party, the Presbyterians, would be needed to accomplish a Restoration and that a full disclosure of his aims would be disastrous to his interests. Thus he carefully avoided any suggestions that his return would mean an Anglican triumph; his agents were busy in England creating an impression that the Presbyterians could expect a Church settlement comprehensive enough to satisfy their convictions; testimonies to his loyalty to Protestantism were secured from French Reformed ministers; and by the famous Declaration of Breda in April 1660 he promised “a liberty to tender consciences and that no man shall be disquieted or called in question for differences of opinion in matter of religion which do not disturb the peace of the kingdom.” In such ways a general impression was given to the Presbyterians that Charles’s return would not be spiritually disastrous. The impression was deepened when a delegation of Presbyterian ministers was cordially received by Charles at The Hague and given, says Richard Baxter, “encouraging promises of peace” which “raised some of them to high expectations.” ....

Thursday, 20 July 2023

Beddome on the Ejection

From the ninth sermon (Hebrews 10:26) in Short discourses Volume 5 by Benjamin Beddome (1717-1795)

By raising up a constant succession of saints to propagate and defend it, the Lord is still giving testimony to the word of his grace. It was apprehended by some that the interests of religion would be fatally affected by the ejectment of such a multitude of pious and learned ministers, in a former period of history, and such indeed was the case in a communion but if the candlestick was removed from its place, it was fixed elsewhere, and the light diffused abroad.