Part 2

Things went on, as far as I could observe, pretty easy. The establishment was a hive of industry; all that were able must work, and good it was for us to be superintended by a good and careful master and mistress. About this time, the eldest son, John, was married, and left us. The second son, George, was bound apprentice to Mr. Kent, of Beetles, a brazier and tin-plate worker. The maid-servant was discharged at the next coming Michaelmas, and I had to learn to milk the cows, and carry the milk into the dairy, and empty it into the places assigned for its reception. Two of the daughters, Emma and Caroline, were now requested to assist their mother in the duties of the house, while the three youngest daughters and youngest son, Jesse, were continued at school, so being prepared to occupy the vacant places when the elder ones left.

But we must have a word or two respecting the new king, George IV. He had been so proclaimed in London and the provinces, but by reason of unhappy differences subsisting between the king and his royal consort, a fixed aversion and a formal separation had taken place. He had ordered her name to be struck off the Liturgy when Princess of Wales!

It was said she had raised a favourite Italian, in her employ, from an humble station, to one of honour; had instituted a new order of knighthood called the Order of St. Caroline; had decorated this person with the insignia of that order, and had in other respects acted in a manner unbecoming a British princess, which brought upon her the continued displeasure of the king. He ordered evidence to be taken against her, and it was determined she should be brought to trial by the peers of the realm. This trial, which lasted fifty-three days, being ended, violent debates took place in the House of Lords on the principle of the Bill, and the proposed measure of depriving the queen, of her title, prerogatives, rights, and privileges, formally abandoned. This was hailed as a complete acquittal by her friends, and was celebrated as such by public rejoicings and illuminations, reaching my parish.

But the King’s anger was not appeased. The 19th day of July, 1821, was the day fixed for the coronation service. It was said to have been a magnificent ceremony, surpassing anything that had ever occurred on former occasions. But the queen, who had repeatedly applied to have a place appointed for her to see the ceremony, on going to the Abbey was refused admittance by the door-keepers, they not daring to let anyone pass who had not a coronation ticket. Thus mortified and humbled, she returned to her house, and the impression it made on her mind was never eradicated. Harassed by severe and bitter trials, she was seized with a sudden illness, which baffled the skill of her physicians, and on the 7th August she breathed her last, being in the fifty-fourth year of her age, her body being conveyed to Brunswick, and deposited in the vault of her ancestors.

But, perhaps, the narration of those circumstances would seem to be a digression, yet they are to my mind full of interest, and so closely interwoven among my early associations that I cannot easily pass over them. I well remember the exhibition which took place in my native village. On one of the large painted pictures was displayed a figure of the queen in her robes, and beneath was the brilliant motto,

“Regina” still, in spite of them, Here then we rest. The universal cause Acts to one end, but acts by various laws; Let this great truth be present night and day, But most be present if we preach or pray.

POPE’S _Essay on Man_.

There was nearly as much for me to do on a Sunday, during the winter season, as on other days; the cattle must be fed; turnips within, and straw without, must be placed ready for the cows to eat, and the fat pigs were to be attended to, of which there was a good number, but sometimes I had an opportunity of going to chapel, on an afternoon, when my work was forward; and there were reading services in the family on Sunday evenings, implying there was a desire to serve and obey the true and living God.

Thus much for a beginning. I soon learned to drive the tumbril, the harrow, the roller, and the wagon, and was, perhaps, nearly as useful as was expected to be; and on one occasion the master made me draw a furrow across a field with a pair of horses, he following, and pronounced himself satisfied with the result.

During my sojourn here, I was several times mercifully preserved from death. On one occasion I was driving a loaded tumbril from the yard, where it was filled, to the manure heap, about a quarter-of-a mile on the road, and then on to the meadow. A horse which I was using, a wild young creature, annoyed by the flies, started off as soon as I got upon his back. I was quite powerless, and lost all control over him. He went at full gallop straight home, and though a cart shed, that was standing by the road-side, having beams across, and so constructed that there was little height more than was required for an empty wagon. I pressed my head down as low as I could, and the interposing mercy of my God preserved me, or I should have been dashed to pieces. The horse ran quite through, and then stopped as if by magic. The men came out of the yard, seeing the danger, and expected to have seen me killed, or seriously injured; but neither myself nor the horse suffered any harm. I did not think much about it at the time, but I have many times looked back with a thankful heart.—“Thou shalt remember all the way the Lord thy God hath led thee.”

Another instance of great danger I will relate. One summer’s morning, being ordered to fetch the cows from the meadow, amongst them being a furious bull, I found on my arrival that one of the cows had calved during the night, close to which the dangerous male had taken up a position. I hastened home with the rest, and told the master what I had seen. It was considered that if I had attempted to drive him he might have killed me. The master directed me to take the barrow, and he would go with me to the meadow, and take with him a hay-fork. We went and found them as I have stated, and no sooner had I placed the barrow near the bull than the infuriated creature at once drove at me, and knocked me down, but the master beat him off, and I was thus preserved from further danger at that time, and escaped unharmed.

At another time, later on, the same beast attacked me in the cow-yard, drove me against the faggots, and had got me completely in his power. My peril was witnessed by Josh Miles, who was thrashing in a barn. He came with his flail—a very formidable instrument—and the beast fled immediately, and leaped over a high gate like a hunting horse, and then looked about him for the next point of attack. These, then, are some of the deliverances extended unto me by the great and unceasing favour of my God, for the which I desire to be devoutly thankful.

I am unable to enumerate all the dangers from which I have been providentially delivered. That same horse which ran away with me kicked me afterwards in the side, but my hand caught the blow, and thus warded off serious injury. I was accustomed to have one-footed kicks from the cows, but found the horse struck out with more effect. Another peril was: As myself and one of my young masters (Suffolk) were scarifying a pea-stubble field we had two horses at length, and took turns, one to ride on the scarifier, and the other to drive the horses. We were going on very cheerful and comfortable, when, suddenly, something distasted the fore horse, and it came round to where I was sitting, and was entangled among the counters with the horse’s feet. In the fright and the danger we had some little difficulty to extricate the poor horse, but we did accomplish it. I escaped with a few slight scratches on my hands and legs, and what was better the horse was not much hurt, so that ultimately we were able to accomplish our work, and to give an account of our mishap to the master, without incurring much blame. Here, again, I feel good cause for thankfulness that I was so mercifully preserved, so that—

“I muse on the years that are past, Wherein my defence Thou hast proved, Nor wilt Thou relinquish at last A sinner so signally lov’d.”—TOPLADY.

I might here be permitted to state my master, Mr. Garrard, at this time, occupied a small farm in the parish of Stradbroke, distant about three miles, to which myself and others were often sent, to do different kinds of work, such as putting in the corn with the drill, sometimes getting in a good lot of turnips, at other times getting up the hay and the corn in harvest, when we had a wagon to be conveyed through the pleasant journey. Adjoining our farm was one occupied by Mr. William Davey, and he also kept a lad a year or two older than myself. He felt himself sometimes aggrieved, because he had so much to do in waiting upon his young masters, so he thought he would cut the matter short, and, being sorely irritated, he got up early one morning (oh! most dreadful act) and set fire to the straw in the barn, which burnt and consumed the whole premises, except the dwelling-house—an alarming conflagration; I saw it blazing. He was taken upon suspicion, tried, and found guilty, and sentenced to be executed, which sentence was carried into effect at Ipswich, on the 20th April, 1822. A terrible example to all young men was the death of William Aldous, late of Stradbroke.

Having passed through the various degrees of training incident to a farming establishment, including the diversified labours of the season of harvest, for my master boarded his men, and in some instances lodged them as well; and the harvests were in those days somewhat cheerful and happy seasons. “Crowned with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,” the ingathering was equal to the demand of the coming winter, however severe and rigid that season might be.

My master usually kept a man at his off-farm, but during my last two years of service with him he placed me in that position. The farm-house was occupied by Samuel Tovell and John Pulham. I lodged with the former, and fetched my food from master’s house, being allowed to take a horse, of which I had two under my care, as also several bullocks and pigs. I used to go to master’s house, and have Sunday dinner, and one evening during the week regularly.

I received no money for my work, my remuneration was board, lodging, washing, and clothes. My master trusted to me to obey his orders, spoke well of me, and I was encouraged by the designation of steward. I was promised that, if I was willing, I should be put to a business, which would be better than being at a farm-house. As time rolled on, a neighbouring farmer, a friend of my master (Mr. Lenny), removed from out of the parish to Worlingham, and that gentleman was requested to look out for something for me. He was successful, and it was arranged that I should be placed under the care of Mr. George Sutton, a shoemaker, of that parish.

My parents consented, and arrangements being completed, I was told to prepare for my new destination. Accordingly, I bade farewell to my old neighbours and friends at Stradbroke and Laxfield, and in the month of May, 1825, I started with George Pead, the carrier, to Halesworth, to meet my new master, and thence to continue my journey to Worlingham, my future residence.

The day was fine, the country looking cheerful after the storms of winter, and our journey was accomplished in due course safely. I had now time to look around and reflect on my change. I did not feel very joyful at my new prospects; I felt that I was a “stranger in a strange land;” I thought of old associations, and that did not add to my comfort. However, amidst many discouragements, I thought that if I could learn my business, I could settle down in after life, and be able to obtain employment, and support those who might be in some measure dependent on me.

My master was held to be a good tradesman, and appeared to have a good run of trade; but I soon found he indulged in habits of drinking to excess. There was no veneration for the Sabbath, and consequently no reverence for God’s commands. He also indulged in profane conversation, such as I had not hitherto been accustomed to; but I prayed for him.

My mistress was a tender-hearted, godly, pious woman, and would often speak kindly to me when master was harsh, so that my sorrows were not greatly multiplied. Mr. Lenny came to see me at my new place (I had known that gentleman when he resided at Laxfield); he harassed my feelings; brought before my mind old associations, from whom I was severed. I felt completely broken down. I have no doubt that was the end he had in view. He afterwards tendered a few healing words of sympathy and kindness, and said that he would write to Laxfield, and let my friends there know how I was getting on, and that, if I continued with my master, and was obliging, he would give me a Christmas-box. After hearing these and other promises, I resigned myself to my new situation, and felt that I would do my best, and try to learn to work.

After having been there a month, it was arranged that I should be bound, Mr. L. being sponsor. An indenture was prepared, and my own consent, and that of my parents, being obtained, I was bound as an indoor apprentice, to learn the art and mystery of a bootmaker, for the space of four years, thirty-one weeks, and four days.

This seemed a long time to look forward, but I was beginning to feel more reconciled. I visited the customers with the master; had a good share of jobs to attend to, as well as errands, the diversity of waiting upon the master, the mistress, the children, the cow, the pony, and the pigs, and my odd hours were to be spent in the work shop, in learning to stitch pieces of leather together.

This latter was, to say the least of it, a tedious operation; I suffered pain in my neck and back, but I had a fair amount of relaxation, and during the whole of that summer I was not bound down very closely to the trade, and had become somewhat acquainted with the young people of that locality, by which I was cheered.

One of my acquaintances was a young man, apprenticed to William Pidgeon, named John Scarlett. That young man was a vessel of mercy, soon to be gathered home to the heavenly garner. He was my guide, philosopher, and friend. “We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the House of God” in company. He sought, and obtained, instruction from the best source, and in turn I myself received much valuable instruction from him.

The first Christmas arrived. During my apprenticeship I was permitted to go to Laxfield, and see my parents. I had not forgotten the promise as to the Christmas-box, so I called on Mr. Lenny, and reminded him of what I had not forgotten at this happy season. I was invited to sit down to table with his people, and have a bowl of good firmity. While I was enjoying the comfortable meal, Mr. L. came into the room, and asked me if I thought I could ride a pony to Laxfield. I was happy to answer in the affirmative. Orders were given, the pony was brought out, and doubly glad was I to go and see my parents, and also to be furnished with a horse to ride; but I was to leave it with Mr. Alling, the gentleman who had been successful in preserving my eyesight, as before stated.

I delivered up my charge, with a letter of instructions from the sender. I knew that Mr. Lenny’s eldest son was living with Mr. Alling, and most likely the pony was for his son’s use. However, I had performed my engagement safely. My short Christmas holiday soon came to an end, and, taking leave of my parents, I was now, for the first time, on foot, to measure the whole length of that dreary road that intervened between the past and the future—the past I was somewhat acquainted with, but as to the future, I wondered and pondered, and sped my way onward, sometimes with tardy steps and a heavy heart, but during the evening of that short winter’s day I arrived home.

I was under a promise to write to my parents, and inform them if I was once more safe at home. The postage was high at that time, being eightpence for each letter. We had not as yet felt the benefit of Rowland Hill’s cheap postage, although we had the benefit of “Rowland Hill’s Village Dialogues”—these are good and profitable.

I passed through my first winter pretty comfortable, now and then being sent out with the pony, and sometimes with the cart, which pleased me very well, as I so enjoyed a trip.

One morning I was called up rather early to fetch some milk for the family, for the cow was not always in profit. As soon as I had put on my boots, and had opened the door, I fell down perfectly insensible and unconscious. My master and mistress were on the room above. They thought I was gone out, but when they found I was not, they soon came to see. They were greatly alarmed thinking it might occur frequently; and I thought how easily my Father and my God could have removed me from this troublesome world. But thanks to His great goodness and mercy, I never remember to have had a recurrence of that solemn visitation. It brought me to consider my state by nature, as a sinner before God; and I expressed gratitude and thankfulness that my life was still preserved.

Thenceforth, I resolved to seek the Lord, feeling that it was my bounden duty to serve Him, and I prayed for direction in this important matter. My young friend, Scarlett, of whom I have spoken, was permitted to attend the Wesleyan Chapel, at North Cove, and myself was also allowed to join him, and we felt it a privilege to listen to the truths as there taught. We felt that the Most High was the Father of Mercies, imparted to us, his creatures, through the atonement of Christ for the remission of sins. My friend’s views were Calvanistic; mine were not so, and we were prompted and exhorted to search the Scriptures. We did search, comparing spiritual things with spiritual help from above.

About this time, one of the members of the chapel (Mrs. Keer), of Mutford, was removed by death, and a funeral sermon was preached in North Cove Chapel, from the words: “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” We had then placed before us the characteristics of a christian, or a believer, seeking salvation through the merits of the Great Redeemer, and as obedient children looking and praying and watching to the end of our course, amidst the temptations and impediments that bestrew our pathway here below. These timely observations and other christian duties were insisted on by Mr. Gibson, the good minister, the burden of which we treasured up in our young minds, and in the case of my friend I have no doubt produced good fruit unto eternal life, for his was destined to be but a short journey to the Celestial City.

Mr. Pidgeon kept a cow, as did my master, and we sometimes had to drive them to marsh in the summer season—about a mile. We almost always had to go on Sundays, and then we could talk over our religious impressions and other matters. As he had a pious mother, who prayed for him, consequently he was a beloved partaker of the benefit, and he did appreciate it as a brother beloved, elected of God.

’Tis well with the righteous, God views them as such, They go to their Father, and can’t ask too much; In Christ, they are righteous, and who dare bring a charge? The blood of atonement hath signed their discharge.

One Sunday morning, having gone down with our masters’ cows, and placed them at their food, we had a little leisure to think, and to talk over the goodness of God to us, his creatures. Coming to an alder tree, fresh and green, my companion stopped, and—taking off his cap said: “Here we must have a little bit of prayer.” Those were the words. I was taken somewhat by surprise. We both knelt—the grass was our carpet; John led off in earnest, solemn, heartfelt prayer, possessing the true spirit of devotion—heard, and witnessed, and accepted in the heavenly courts above, indicating an earnest of the promised possession of the heavenly inheritance. I feel something of the rekindling of God’s love while I am recording this interesting incident. When he had concluded I felt also prompted to make the attempt, in compliance with his request, but my sentences were feeble and broken, the very first that were ever heard in prayer by a fellow-creature.

We often resorted thither for prayer subsequently, and often felt it to be a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. Once, on a Beccles horse-racing occasion, we repaired thither, and prayed for the giddy multitude, as also for our friends and acquaintances. There was another young man, James Taylor, whom we wished to draw into our company; but, he being a servant, soon changed his master, and went beyond our reach. He is also gone to rest, having died at Lowestoft about 1860.

I attended to the commands of my master and mistress; was fairly fed; and my duties were not very stringent. I was not bound down so closely on the shop seat, but had plenty of outing, and oftentimes worked very late at night, so that we might forward our work, and accomplish the orders by the end of the week, although there was often too much to be done on a Sunday. My master oft indulged himself in such company as are to be found in public-houses, even on the Sabbath. There were in those days no restrictions as to the hours. The houses were kept open all day long, and sometimes he would take me with him, if there was not anything to take me in any other direction. On one occasion he stayed at the “Bell,” at Beccles, a long time, and being unwilling to part with the company he sent me on to Gillingham, two miles further. He had a customer who lived through Gillingham Toll-gale; thither I was to go to transact business, and then return. On my return, he was not ready to go home with me, but said he would be soon. After waiting till I was tired, I set off to go home to Worlingham. The mistress, knowing I had gone out with the master, insisted upon knowing where I had left him; I stated the truth. She felt uncomfortable, and said she would go and fetch him home. I said that it would not be advisable; that there were drunken people, who would laugh to see her sorrows multiplied; and that, perhaps, she would bear words by which she would be more grieved. She did not go, and for years after she appreciated the advice it was my happiness to tender on that occasion.

I made progress in my trade; the time—4 years, 31 weeks, and 4 days were being reduced, for time flies. My master’s father occupied a small farm in the same parish. Master and I used often to go and help him in busy seasons, such as hay and harvest seasons. I was also allowed to help master’s customers a few days during the harvest, being always supplied with good harvest food; sometimes the strong ale would make me stagger; and, although I had to work harder, somehow I always felt delighted with the change.

We had only one service at the parish church each Sunday, that being one reason why I was permitted to attend chapel, and sometimes my friend John and I were allowed to go to the Primitive Chapel, at Beccles. This was during the early ministry of Robert Key; and sometimes we were privileged to listen to that good man, and were instructed and comforted thereby, admiring his plain and easy style of preaching, the gospel of truth and love, through the atonement and satisfaction of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the infinite importance of being saved from wrath through Him. The good Lord crowned this man’s efforts with abundant success, and he became a “burning and a shining light.”