Charles and Susanna Spurgeon

Miss Susannah Thompson was angry. Her fiancé had forgotten all about her and had left her stranded on the stairs of “The Horns,” a large building where he was to preach that afternoon. As the crowds surged about her, Susie looked in vain for Charles. He was nowhere to be seen, and had obviously entered by a side door, too preoccupied with thoughts of the sermon he was about to deliver to remember to take care of his sweetheart.

So back went the irate girl to her mother to pour out her pent-up frustration and hurt, hoping, doubtless, for a sympathizing ear and loving commiseration over the slight she had suffered at the hands of the young man who was to be her life-partner. Was this the way she was to be treated throughout their married life, Susie wondered?

Gentle Mrs. Thompson, however, although feeling deeply for her daughter and understanding how hurt she must feel, also knew that the young couple’s future happiness depended upon how this crisis was handled.

“Your future husband is no ordinary man,” she told the weeping girl. “His whole life is absolutely dedicated to God and His service and you must never, never hinder him by trying to put yourself first in his heart.” (p. 15, Volume 2)

It took some time before her mother’s wise and loving counsel took effect, but by the time a cab drew up to the door and a very distraught young man came running into the house shouting, “Where’s Susie?” young Susanna’s heart had softened greatly. “I have been searching for her everywhere,” he was saying, “and cannot find her; has she come back by herself?” (ibid)

It was now Charles’ turn to be soothed and comforted for, when he heard the whole story from Mrs. Thompson, he had felt it just a little unfair that he should have been doubted, even for a moment when he knew in his heart how very much he loved Susanna. But by the time the good lady thought it wise to let the two young people talk it out together, Charles was quiet enough to listen patiently while he heard from her own lips, how indignant his beloved had been just a few brief hours before. He assured Susannah of his deep affection for her, but pointed out that she must realize, once and for all, that he was first and foremost God’s servant, and that His claims had to come first in his life at all times and in all circumstances.

Susie learned her lesson well. “It was ever the settled purpose of my married life, she writes, “that I should never hinder him in his work for the Lord, never try to keep him from fulfilling his engagements, never plead my own ill-health as a reason why he should remain at home with me.” (p. 16)

It is certain that Charles, too, learned a lesson, for shortly after this incident, when he invited his fiancée to accompany him to an appointment in Windsor, he writes among other things: “Possibly, I may be again inattentive to you if you do go, but this will be nice for us both—that ‘Charles’ may have space for mending, and that ‘Susie’ may exhibit her growth in knowledge of his character, by patiently enduring his failings.” (Ibid)

So all ended happily in what Susanna termed “an increase of that fervent love which can look misunderstanding in the face till it melts away and vanishes, as a morning cloud before the ardent glances of the sun.” (ibid)

It had not exactly been love at first sight, not, at least, in Susannah’s case. She could well remember that Sunday evening when she had been persuaded, much against her inclination, to go with her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Olney, to hear the young preacher from the country, Charles Haddon Spurgeon. If the truth were told, she had been rather upset by reports about his unconventional appearance from those who had been present in the morning service. Deacon Olney, however, was among those who appreciated the young preacher for his sincerity and eloquence and had noticed his dismay at so many empty pews. “We must get him a better congregation tonight,” exclaimed the good man, “or we shall lose him!” So much of that afternoon had been spent in extracting promises from friends and acquaintances to come and hear the “wonderful boy preacher.” “And little Susie must come too,” his wife had pleaded. (p. 5)

To please her kind friends, Susie agreed to go and it was much as she had expected. She couldn’t help being thoroughly shocked and distracted from the message by the preacher’s “huge, black, satin stock, the badly-trimmed hair, and the blue pocket-handkerchief with white spots.” (ibid) She was not, at that time, sufficiently awakened spiritually to appreciate the preacher’s “powerful pleading with sinners,” though one expression did stick in her mind. The “living stones in the Heavenly Temple,” Charles had said, “were “perfectly joined together with the vermillion cement of Christ’s blood.” (Ibid) These words had struck her as being extremely quaint, nothing more.

We are not told when Charles and Susannah were first introduced to each other, but it is clear that they met occasionally at the home of their mutual friends, the Olney’s. In spite of his unconventionality, young Mr. Spurgeon was asked to come and pastor the church at New Park Street and, little by little, his fervent preaching made Susie see how backslidden she really was. She had committed her whole life to Christ one year earlier, but the months following had seen her grow cold and even indifferent to spiritual things, though she had been able to hide her true feelings from her family and friends.

But few could remain indifferent under Charles Spurgeon’s preaching. Susannah certainly could not. She was therefore deeply moved when the young preacher gave her a copy of The Pilgrim’s Progress and wrote on the fly leaf: “Miss Thompson, with desires for her progress in the blessed pilgrimage from C. H. Spurgeon, April 20, 1854.” (p. 7)

There is no indication that Charles had any other thought in giving such a gift than to encourage a young soul heavenward. And when Susie opened up her heart to the young pastor, he patiently and gently led her to the cross where she found the peace and pardon she so greatly needed.

It was after this that a deeper friendship began to spring up between them, and when a party of friends went together to the opening of the Crystal Palace, Charles was not only among them, but had found a seat next to Miss Susannah. He had brought with him a recent publication, Martin Tupper’s Proverbial Philosophy, which he opened to the chapter on “Marriage.” Following the direction of Charles’ pointed finger, Susie’s eyes read the opening paragraph: “Seek a good wife of thy God, for she is the best gift of His providences. . . . If thou art to have a wife of thy youth, she is now living on earth; therefore think of her and pray for her weal.” (p. 7)

Then a low voice spoke softly in her ear, “Do you pray for him who is to be our husband?”

No one else heard the whisper, but Susie realized immediately the import of that one simple question. Anyone watching would have noticed the flushed cheeks and downcast eyes, and it is certain that these tokens of maidenly confusion did not escape Charles for, shortly afterward, he whispered in the same low voice, “Will you come and walk round the Palace with me?” Susie was in no mood to refuse such a request from such a man, and though no words of love were spoken between them during the wonderful hours that followed, they could see, in retrospect, that it was then that their hearts had become entwined as one, and a beautiful romance had begun which would last for thirty-eight long years.

It was, however, nearly two months later that they were formerly betrothed in the little English garden, the pride and joy of Susannah’s grandfather and long to be remembered by both Charles and Susie as the sacred place where they formally declared their love and devotion to each other. They were really only reiterating aloud what both had felt in their hearts since that memorable day in June. Rushing into the house, the young girl, overcome with emotion, found seclusion in an upper room, and knelt to thank her heavenly Father for His goodness in giving her such a wonderful gift—the love of a good man.

Six months later, Charles baptized his fiancée in New Park Street Chapel. He had asked her to write out her confession of faith. This written declaration filled him with joy. “My Dearest,” he wrote, “the letter is all I desire. Oh, I could weep for joy (as I certainly am doing now) to think that my beloved can so well testify to a work of grace in her soul. I know you were really a child of God, but I did not think you had been lead in such a path. I see my Master has been plowing deep. . . . I flatter no one, but allow me to say honestly, that few cases which have come under my notice are as satisfactory as yours. Mark, I write not as an admiring friend, but impartially as your Pastor. . . . I am glad you are not here just at this moment, for I feel so deep; that I could only throw my arms around you and weep.” (p. 10)

While the complete “impartiality” of the youthful pastor might well be questioned by those more experienced in the ways of love, his sincere desire for Susannah’s spiritual growth and for his own was evident both in his conversations and in his correspondence. It was very plain that his love for his Lord and for his sweetheart were so intertwined that each overflowed into the other in a delightful and natural way.

With their wedding day eighteen long months away, the young folks had ample time to get to know each other better. Many a walk was taken in the Crystal Palace which was, understandably, their favorite rendezvous. When after the Thursday night service Susie would hear the whisper, “Three o’clock tomorrow,” she knew that, if she made it to the Palace by that time, she could expect to see the now familiar figure of Charles waiting for her at the Crystal Fountain.

Charles would also try, when possible, to see his beloved on a Monday, when he generally brought his sermon with him which he would revise for the press. Susie, of course, was expected to sit very quietly during this process which, she admits, was good discipline for a pastor’s intended wife. She also discovered that this discipline included sharing their precious times together with one of Charles’ favorite Puritan writers. “Now, darling,” she was told, “I want you to go carefully through this volume, marking all those paragraphs and sentences that strike you as being particularly sweet, or quaint, or instructive; will you do this for me?” (p. 19)

Feeling totally inadequate for such a task, yet not wanting to disappoint Charles, she agreed. She was aware that he had no idea how little she was able to appreciate such writing but, in spite of her qualms and with his continual suggestions and help, a little volume, Stones Taken from Ancient Brooks, was produced, truly a work of love in every sense of the word!

The time came when Susanna was taken to meet her future in-laws who received her with open arms. The young couple spent a blissful day together, and in his weekly Saturday letter Charles wrote exuberantly: “My Own Doubly-dear Susie, how much we have enjoyed each other’s society! It almost seems impossible that I could either have conceived or conferred so much happiness. . . . Let us take heed of putting ourselves too prominently in our own hearts, but let us commit our way unto the Lord. ‘What I have in my own hand, I usually lose,’ said Luther, ‘but what I put into God’s hand, is still, and ever will be, in my possession.’”

To this loving epistle Susie promptly responded: “My dearest . . . It is useless for me to attempt to tell you how much happiness I had during the past week. Words are but cold dishes on which to serve up thoughts which come warm and glowing from the heart. . May His blessing rest in an especial manner on you tonight, my dearly-beloved, and on the approaching Sabbath, when you stand before the congregation, may you know all the fullness of God.” (pp. 17-18)

It was not long before Susanna discovered how very popular her fiancé was becoming. Charles wrote that his congregation the day before had been enormous—around 10,000. This popularity brought with it charges of egotism and self-complacency. Always his loyal defender, Susanna refutes these accusations heartily by making public a letter in which Charles shows that he is very aware of his need of God’s continual grace. “Oh!” he writes. “What is it to be popular, to be successful, to have abundance, even to have love so sweet as yours, if I should be left of God to fall and to depart from His ways? I tremble at the giddy height on which I stand and could wish myself unknown, for indeed I am unworthy of all my honors and fame. . . . I beseech you, blend your earnest prayers with mine, that two of us may be agreed, and thus will you promote the usefulness, and holiness, and happiness of one whom you love.” (p. 26)

And so, writing and praying with and for each other, and taking long rambles in the gardens of the Palace, their love grew stronger and their romance more delightful until they found that the eighteen months had passed at last. The early morning of January 8, 1856, finds Susanna kneeling by her bedside asking God’s blessing and guidance as she embarks upon her new life. Some hours later, the bride-to-be, dressed very simply, drove with her father to New Park Street Chapel for the wedding.

There was a detailed report of the event in a London newspaper. In the writer’s opinion, although the crowds trying to get in to witness the wedding were perhaps not as aristocratic as those attending most weddings in that elite neighborhood, the West End had never before witnessed such enthusiasm and such numbers! A police division even had to be called in to prevent accidents, the road leading to the chapel was so crowded with vehicles and pedestrians. “When the chapel doors were opened,” the newspaper reported, “there was a terrific rush, and in less than half-an-hour the doors were closed upon many of the eager visitors.” (p. 31)