Part 1

Transcribed from the 1882 G. S. Cook edition by David Price, email [email protected]

[Picture: Book cover]

_Spes tutissima Cælis_.

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Interesting Incidents _Connected with the Life of_ GEORGE BICKERS,

_Originally a Farmer’s Parish Apprentice at_ _Laxfield_, _in Suffolk_, _but now_

RESIDING IN OULTON,

_In the same County_, _Being an_ AUTOBIOGRAPHY _Of the above_, From 1809 to 1881, _Inclusive_.

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_All Rights of Re-production reserved_

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Lowestoft: G. S. Cook, Nelson Printing Works.

[Picture: Photograph of George Bickers]

THE writer of these pages was born at Laxfield, a village in the County of Suffolk, on the 16th day of January, 1809, the forty-eighth year of our good King George the Third’s happy reign. That eventful day was to me the commencement of a long and sometimes tedious journey: oftimes I have had to encounter great perils and dangers, but out of all the Lord hath delivered me.

That eventful day witnessed the closing career of a great British General, Sir John Moore, at Corunna, a seaport of Spain, whither he had gone to take the command of the English forces, in order, if possible, to relieve that unhappy country, then being sorely harassed by the armies of Napoleon I., under the command of the Duke of Dalmatia (Marshall Soult), but the campaign proved a failure, resulting in the death of the Commander-in-Chief, and the re-embarkation of the troops, with a loss of about eight hundred of our countrymen, Soult being more than a match for the valour of British arms on that memorable and trying occasion. But France was destined to be humbled, and six years later on, Napoleon and his generals felt the weight of British prowess at Waterloo.

I was the second son of my parents, Benjamin and Charlotte, poor, but industrious people, my father being an agricultural labourer: and, having but a slender income, yet felt a wish their children should acquire a little education, which might prove useful to them in their future stations in life under which they might be called.

When about four years of age, while one day playing in the road with other children, near my father’s cottage, there happened to be a horse, belonging to a miller of the name of Heffer, quietly feeding. Being then (as since) very forward in mischief, I threw my cap at the quiet creature, and then must needs go too near its heels to pick it up; the sad consequence was I was kicked on the head, and my right eye nearly perished, but, under the skilful treatment of Mr. Alling, a surgeon in the village, my eyesight was preserved, and, although I am writing more than sixty years later on, yet the scar still remains, and also the seam in the bone is still perceptible. But what of the poor horse? He came to grief very soon after, as one day being loose in the stable, and the master, going in to take him some food, omitted to shut the door, the horse ran out, and, before the man could recover him, he was struck by one of the sails of the windmill, and was killed thereby. This accident reminded the owner of that dangerous machine that it would be much better to raise it higher, which was soon after accomplished. And, perhaps, I may be permitted to observe that, by the kind care of a watchful and loving Jehovah, my life was preserved; and, in looking back, can praise the Lord for His goodness, and for the care extended unto me at this, the beginning of my journey of a long life.

The time had now arrived when school must be attended, and my first schoolmaster was Mr. Benjamin Chenery, at that time clerk and sexton of the parish, and was no ways sparing of the heads and backs of his pupils, but we hope, on the whole, he followed a rightful course, for he had in his vocation many grave and solemn duties to perform, both as to the interment of the aged, as also the education and training of the young.

Under the care and tuition of Benjamin, I first learned to read, to write upon a slate, and do little sums, after having mastered the figures. Easy spelling also came on, as a matter of course; and there was no lack of errands to perform, as well for the mistress as the master, and I occasionally assisted in sweeping up the church, the chancel being occupied as a schoolroom during the summer season, when fire was not needed, as the master was not usually at a loss to supply a warming.

The churchyard, too spacious as it was, proved a most excellent playground; there were plain spaces for marbles and tops, piers and buttresses for hide-and-seek; graves, and stones, and tombs, to jump over and jump from, without any restriction, and readily did we unite in these healthful exercises, however dangerous or mischievous they might be in other respects.

There was another school near, kept by Mr. John Goodwin; the pupils were more advanced, some being farmers’ sons. That being a free school, yet the master was allowed to take private pupils. Females, also, were instructed, having a room to themselves opposite the master’s desk, called the “Ladies’ Room.” The boys at those schools were not allowed to play together, the smaller ones possessing the protection of the sacred enclosure, which was at the larger ones’ peril to invade. We could see them at their play, as we looked through the openings of the gate; and there was sometimes displayed a germ of hostility among the youthful students.

In attending this school I was taught to read, and also easy spelling, as before observed; then came little sums in addition, subtraction, and multiplication. I soon became able to read in class; we daily read the Psalms from the book of Common Prayer. We did not have bible reading at this school, as many families at that time did not possess the sacred volume, my parents being among that number; but our immediate neighbours were in possession of a bible, and were always willing to lend it to my parents of an evening, and the owners, being aged people, would often invite me to stand and read to them from their bible, of Adam and Eve, of Noah, of Abraham, and Lot, of Isaac and Jacob, and also that remarkable narrative of Joseph and his brethren. These exercises were to me helps in the right direction. My master found I was getting on, and set me to read to him pieces from history, principally from Goldsmith’s “Vicar of Wakefield.” The closing paragraph of the 7th chapter I will here insert, because, although more than sixty years have rolled away, yet I well remember the concluding sentences. Here is a sample:—

“My wife now kept up the conversation, though not the argument. She observed that several prudent men of our acquaintance were freethinkers, and made very good husbands. And she knew some sensible girls that had skill enough to make converts of their spouses. ‘And who knows, my dear,’ continued she, ‘what Olivia may be able to do? The girl has a great deal to say upon every subject, and to my knowledge is very skilled in controversy.’ ‘Why, my dear, what controversy can she have read?’ cried I. ‘It does not occur to me that I have ever put such books into her hands; you certainly overrate her merit.’ ‘Indeed, papa,’ replied Olivia, ‘she does not. I have read a great deal of controversy. I have the disputes between Thwackum and Square, the controversy between Robinson Crusoe and Friday, the savage, and I am now employed in reading the controversy in ‘Religious Courtship.’’ ‘Very well,’ I cried I, ‘that’s a good girl; I find you are perfectly qualified for making converts, and so go help your mother to make the gooseberry-pie.’”

And the master added, “you shall have a piece _on’t_, mister, when it be enough.” I had wondered a hundred times in what book the above passage could be found. At length the discovery was made, and now the concluding portion of the 17th chapter, together with the verses—six of them—have passed through my mind, in the absence of something better, a great many times:—

“‘It was within about four days of her (Olivia’s) intended nuptials that my little family, at night, were gathered around a charming fire, telling stories of the past, and laying schemes for the future, busied in forming a thousand projects, and laughing at whatever folly came uppermost.’ ‘Well, Moses, my boy, we shall soon have a wedding in our family; what is your opinion of matters and things in general?’ ‘My opinion is, father, that all things go on very well, and I was just now thinking that when sister Livy is married to Farmer Williams, we shall then have the loan of his cider-press and brewing tubs for nothing.’ ‘That we shall, Moses,’ cried I, ‘and he will sing us ‘_Death_ and the _Lady_’ to raise our spirits into the bargain.’ ‘He has taught that song to our Dick,’ cried Moses, ‘and I think he goes through it very prettily.’ ‘Does he so?’ cried I, ‘then let’s have it. Where is little Dick? Let him up with it boldly.’ ‘My brother Dick,’ cried Bill, my youngest, ‘is just gone out with sister Livy, but Mr. Williams has taught me two songs, and I’ll sing them for you, papa. Which song do you choose, ‘The Dying Swan,’ or ‘The Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog?’ ‘The elegy, child, by all means,’ said I. ‘I never heard that yet, and Deborah, my life, grief you know is dry; let us have a bottle of the best gooseberry wine to keep up our spirits. I have wept so much at all sorts of late that, without an enlivening glass, I am sure this would overcome me, and Sophy, love, take your guitar, and thrum in with the boy a little.”

This is then the sample of the taste of a master store the mind of a young scholar; but we must have the “Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog:”

THE ELEGY, ETC.

Good people all, of every sort, give ear unto my song, And if you find it won’drous short, it cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, of whom the world might say That still a godly race he ran whene’er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had, to comfort friend and foe, The naked every day he clad, when he put on his clothes; And in that town a dog was found, as dogs there many be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, and curs of low degree.

This dog and man at first were friends, but when a pique began, The dog, to gain some private ends, went mad and bit the man; Around, from all the neighbo’ring streets, the wond’ring neighbours ran, And swore the dog had lost his wits to bite so good a man.

The wound it seemed both sore and sad to every Christian eye, And while they said the dog was mad, they said the man would die; But soon a wonder came to light, that showed the rogues they lied, The man recovered of the bite—the dog it was that died.

The master did not attempt to enlighten me. At the close of the elegy, he merely observed as approval, “Oh, the dog died, did he, mister?” But no doubt Oliver Goldsmith could see something underlying its surface, as there were then political dogs in Islington, whose virulent bites were very painful; surely also, are there to be found elsewhere in our day.

My neighbours were farmers on a small scale: they had a son to whom I was much attached. They kept several cows, and a horse named Depper. She was a useful creature, having carried me many miles. I could spend many half-days with Depper, instead of being at school, and I believe those in charge liked my company, so that the time passed away. I had often little jobs to perform for the old people which sometimes brought me a meal of good food; at other times a good farmer’s cake, which was always a luxury; and I had charge of the cows when they were fed in the lanes and roads. This brought a few pence to my parents, so much needed in those days of low wages—about eight or nine shillings per week when labourers made full time.

It would have been a curious sight in our day, as then, to see the old couple mounted upon Depper’s back, when they were going out to see friends. A light cart was a scarce article in those days with small occupiers (my neighbours had only a tumbril as a carriage); an appliance called a pillion was fastened upon the rump of the horse, and secured to the saddle, the greatest difficulty being to mount and dismount; but that difficulty was overcome.

I have not yet done with my old friend Benjamin; perhaps he did not trouble about my being absent for a week or two, if I did not return a bigger dunce. He usually had some of that class to try his patience. He appointed me many jobs, more to my mind than studying in the school. The town clock required to be wound up, the dial of which was at an elevation of about fifty feet, adorning the south side of the old tower, with its four neat pinnacles. I was appointed often to wind up the weights of that clock: the larger weight requiring the power of two boys, with a crank as large as a grindstone. Then, again, at funerals, the master would set me to toll the church bell, the rope being so fixed upon its tongue that an easy jerk would cause it to strike against the bell’s side, instructions being given that when the procession arrived, and at a signal from the master, ten strokes were to be given in quick succession, and then immediately to cease. Then, again, after the funeral service was over, the grave had to be filled in by willing hands, which was after a time accomplished, the implements being afterwards stowed away, and thus ended the school service of another day.

Four schoolboys were usually selected to convey the funeral bier to the late residence of the deceased, sometimes half-a-mile or more distant. Regardless of the solemnity of the occasion, we enjoyed the outing, and were not in a very great hurry to return to our studies; and perhaps the master did not trouble that we should, for I do not remember to have heard him express much sorrow or inconvenience respecting the absentees.

I continued to attend Benjamin’s school until I was about ten years of age; at that time my parents thought they would like me to attend the larger school, that my education might be forwarded thereby. I learnt the inscription on the fly-leaf of master’s book, which I had often read through. I could not remember the title. The lines were these:

Whose book I am, if you wish to know, By letters two I will you show; The first is B, to all men’s sight, The next is C, to spell it right; But if you chance to spell amiss, Look underneath, and here it is:

BENJAMIN CHENERY.

Farewell! to my first schoolmaster, and gooseberry-pie book.

It was not very long before a vacancy occurred in the larger school, and I was elected to fill up the gap. I felt somewhat timid, but that soon wore off. I was placed at a desk with others, and had soon to go in for sums in earnest. All had to be worked out on a slate, and, when passed as correct, had to be set down in a book. This was our morning work; afternoon we had Bible-reading in class, spelling, and afterwards writing with ink in copy book. There was a very patient usher of the name of George Bilney; but he was not there long after I joined the school. The discipline here was more stringent; each free scholar had to wear a badge of distinction, a school cap, to be worn every Sunday, and to be present at church, two seats being set apart for the boys of this school, under the supervision of the master and his usher; and all absentees had to give a satisfactory account on Monday mornings of the why’s and the wherefore’s, or feel the weight of the cane in the master’s hand, however distasteful it might be.

At this school I made progress; we were allowed to use “Walkingame’s Tutor’s Assistant;” a great deal could be learnt from this useful work. Said tables on Fridays, and also Church Catechism, with hard and difficult spelling at the close thereof, and the first three boys were rewarded with a ticket each. Often heavy tasks were awarded for disobedience, and, altogether, the general routine was one of forced vigilance, obedience, and activity, as no trifling was permitted during school hours.

After a few months my being in this school, Mr. Bilney, the usher left, and his place was subsequently filled by Mr. Benjamin Moulton, who afterwards followed the occupation of an auctioneer and valuer, at Woodbridge, in this county. I wrote to that gentleman in 1878, enquiring if he was the same B. M. whom I had previously known at Mr. Goodwin’s school. He returned an answer, thanking me for the enquiry, that he was the same; that he was now about seventy years of age; that his health was fair; and that there was at least one of the old scholars who had thought about him; but said, also, he never much liked the situation, so he did not much regret leaving the village and its associations.

I attended at this school about one year and a half. There were a better class of pupils (farmer’s sons) on the Opposition benches, who were instructed in the higher rudiments, such as land surveying, mapping, printing, English grammar. “English Reader,” “Introduction,” and “Speaker” were books not prohibited to the free boys, and, for one, I was very fond of reading them at every opportunity, for we had the range of the school from twelve o’clock till two, when all could play outside in fine weather very comfortably together, regardless of station in life, as two in the same school were my future young masters.

I continued to improve in the acquisition of knowledge, as there taught, from Multiplication of Integers to Money, and so on, as in subsequent rules; Division short and long, Reduction, Practice, and “Rule of Three,” all requiring close attention to bring a “Good” mark, implying the approval of the master or usher before any sum was allowed to be entered in the book, and even that was a tedious operation. There must be no mistakes, no blots, nor any smearing on the surface; when the master came round, the cane accompanied him, and sad woes were inflicted on the careless, which were not soon forgotten.

But it came to be desired that I should begin to work more closely, and earn my support, for most likely it was thought that a little help in that direction was, no doubt, very needful, and being a final decision, I left the school in that eventful year, 1820, and forthwith I soon found my destiny was “buckle to work.” I have said “eventful” year, in proof whereof here is an extract from the _Evangelical Magazine_ of that year:—“George III. died at Windsor Castle, on the 29th January, 1820 in his 82nd year. His son, the Duke of Kent, expired a few days previous, at Sidmouth, in Devonshire, in the 53rd year of his age, leaving an infant daughter—our good and virtuous Queen.” Long may she reign.

The way is now apparently open for the Prince Regent to occupy the throne, but the perplexing domestic troubles occupied the lawyers and barristers more than twelve months ere the ground could be anything like cleared; but the road in which I was destined to travel was not so mystified. A master was found for me, in the person of Mr. Simon Smyth, of Ubbeston, farmer. I was employed in hoeing, weeding corn, picking grass, and such-like jobs. I was there ten weeks, or about half that summer, and more happy was I than the Prince Regent. My next master was Mr. Robert Scace, of Laxfield, farmer, and was employed, first keeping sheep, then working in the hay field, and other odd jobs which might present themselves to my notice. I got on nicely with Mr. Scace, and after the hay season was told that I might continue on, and board in the house during the harvest, and have the same amount of money weekly. I was glad to hear that, and never found it a source of regret to anyone. Those were cheerful seasons to both men and boys, and for my own part I felt that I was advanced to a post of honour when entrusted with the commands of a horse or two, and was no longer compelled to go about the fields gleaning, which occupation I so much disliked. There was but one son in this family, but he had to work in harvest-time, and bend down with the sickle, as with that instrument the wheat-crop was reaped in those days, and it was my lot to assist Master Robert, when he sought a little rest. He was a little older than myself, being born in 1806. He lived near my parents’ dwelling, and I was often allowed to play with him before we began to work. His was but a short course. I have since read in Laxfield Churchyard, near the porch, upon a stone, this inscription:

ROBERT BULLOCK SCACE, Born September 17th, 1806; Died March 30th, 1853.

How quickly the four dozen years passed away!

The joyful harvest being completed, it was arranged that I should be further detained to keep pigs and other stock in the fields from off which the corn had been taken. This employment I was engaged in for several weeks, being always supplied with a good dinner on each Sunday, sent to the field from the farmer’s table, which was very much enjoyed and welcomed, these and such-like comforts which came to me on the Day of Rest.

I know not how long I might have continued here, but Michaelmas drew on, and it was agreed that I should go into service, at a farm-house in the parish. This did not give to me at first a very favourable impression, but undoubtedly it was the right way into a “city of habitation.” Thenceforth, on the 11th day of October, 1820. I was received into the family of Mr. John Garrard, of Laxfield, to be trained and disciplined as a veritable farmer’s boy, and held myself ready to obey any instructions and orders that might be presented. My training commenced, I did not at all dislike my new acquaintances, and after a few days felt quite at home in my new position. There was plenty of work, plenty of food, and a goodly supply of company.

The family consisted of the master, mistress, four sons, and five daughters. There were also a man-servant, a maid servant, and myself. Later on there came into the family a nephew, who was called Jonathan, and frequently the master called him “Jonter.” His father was brother to the master, and having died April 22nd, 1811, aged 29 years, left him and a sister to the frowns of an ungodly world, as also to the care of their mother, who removed from Laxfield, to a place called Hartley Row, in the county of Hants, there to revive old associations or to form new ones, and in those engagements it did seem Jonathan could be spared from his mother, then being about sixteen years of age when he came to live with his uncle.

As regards myself, my business was to do what every one of the others left undone, and bear the blame for all; but was so far favoured, there was a standing rule that no stripes were to be administered but by the hands of the master, so that, on the whole, amongst bulls and cows, pigs and sows, children and chickens, and other bipeds, and quadrupeds, I was not very lonely, and sometimes felt, after having to endure some pain and privation, occasioned by the terrible sharp wintry storms that prevailed, I could go on my way rejoicing.