Part 3

My master was a kind of sportsman; he kept a gun, also a dog, and occasionally used them. We were friendly with the gamekeeper, and as we did not annoy or pursue the game, no notice was taken of the master. I say “we,” for I was allowed to use the gun, and shoot as many wood-pigeons as I could during the winter seasons, for we could not work much at the trade during the sharp weather. The family increased—a third son was born named Robert; in process of time a fourth named Samuel. Master built a workshop, for the cottage was becoming too small. He suggested that I should lodge in the new building. I preferred staying in the old quarters, and ultimately was permitted to do so to the end of my engagement.

I had often to go very long journeys on Sunday mornings—especially those Sundays when there was no service at church—to Ellough, to Hulver, to Henstead, to Mutford, and sometimes through Beccles to Gillingham, and on one occasion I went with master to Bungay on business. In this and many other ways the Sabbath was greatly desecrated, while the world with its fascinations and alurements obtained faithful service.

About this time a very tragical affair occurred in our parish. My friend’s master was on his way home from Beccles, one Saturday night, very late, when, before he arrived at his house, he was attacked by a ruffian, beaten about the head, and almost killed. It was said he would have been quite murdered, but he had a very thick hairy head—something like a negro’s—by reason thereof the blows did not take fatal effect.

He managed to reach home, and they naturally were greatly alarmed at his condition. My friend was called up, and sent to Beccles for the doctor. He had to go past where the murderous attack had been committed, the ground being still moist with blood. Coming to the place, he told me, he came upon his master’s hat, and having placed it over into Worlingham Park till his return, went forward again unmolested. Arriving at the town, by Fair Close, when near the Prison, there was a gate and a style, he said he knelt down, and prayed that the Lord would be merciful to his master, and heal him, and spare him a little longer. This was, perhaps, the first prayer offered in Beccles on that Sunday morning—it was past midnight. When his poor injured master arrived at his home that prayer was heard and answered, for by assiduous and skilful treatment, poor William Pidgeon’s life was preserved some twenty years longer. A reward £100 was offered by the Government, upon proof of the offence being established against the perpetrator, but it was not discovered until the poor conscience stricken miserable wretch confessed to it upon his dying bed. This was the outcome of the burden of a guilty conscience.

During all my servitude hitherto I had but a small amount of pocket money; but in my last year, 1829, after earning a certain sum for master weekly, I was allowed the surplus, and, another coming in to take some of the out-door turns, I could sit and work at the trade more closely, and with more energy, and this also proved an advantage to the master, as well as to myself: thus our interests were to a certain extent mutual, although when a mistake happened, as it sometimes did, then it would assuredly be religion that was most ridiculed, of the which poor master could not discover there was any necessity, although admonished by repeated warnings that our days are as a vapour which soon vanisheth away.

I was now becoming more and more acquainted with the trade of country boot-making, and was considered, as an apprentice, a very decent hand, considering I was learning in a village. I liked my trade tolerably well, and was, perhaps, on the whole, fairly obliging, amongst the wax, the thread, the leather, and the nails, and all other concomitants incident to a boot-making establishment, to which I had, by this time, become almost naturalised, and felt quite at home as a few extra pence came into my pocket, for although I had permission to go to Beccles to fairs and races, and such like amusements, yet I did not often prefer to accept those seeming favours—those gilded baubles, which perish with the using. My friend would say, “Let us go for our cows an hour sooner, then we can kneel down and pray for the giddy, noisy multitude,” many of whom were slaves to sin and Satan, fast bound in the snare, from which nothing short of a divine power can extricate—

So sad our state by nature is, Our sin how deep its stains, And Satan binds our willing souls Fast in his slavish chains.

One very warm summer day, we (that is, myself, master, and his father) were after the hay, on the bank of the Waveney, and I told them I should like to have a bathe. They cautioned me to be careful I was not drowned. I repeated that I should make the attempt, but they tried to dissuade me. I told them to “Look out!” and I went over and back easily and safety—preserved and supported by an Omnipotent Almighty hand, when many have been permitted to sink in the stream, and are lost! lost! lost! for ever. This is the manner in which my giddy steps were preserved, and my youthful career safely and lovingly onward led, and I was permitted to see the “bright light in the cloud.”

I will now state that my apprenticeship closed on the 31st of December, in the year above-mentioned. It began on the 24th of May, 1825. Having agreed with my master to work for him for a time, I commenced to work as journeyman. After having visited a few of my old friends, I took lodgings near with a couple of aged people named Whyatt, where I was very comfortable. Their youngest son had been apprenticed to Mr. Pidgeon, my friend John having left, or was about leaving his master, and very soon after was summoned to bid adieu to all earthly things, and to enter into his everlasting rest, into which the writer desires to be found, waiting and watching, even unto the end of his course.

I started in housekeeping—bought good bread at Jones’s, of Beccles, and good meat at Crickmoy’s, near the “Red Lion Inn,” and other necessaries were easily obtainable, so that I got on during the first winter fairly well, but had not much money to spare, for perhaps I could have done more work if I had had more alloted to me, but was thankful that the prospect was encouraging. I worked and sung, walked to my lodgings and enjoyed my coffee and my rest. I did not book myself at this station only for a short time; the other apprentice, James Smith, was becoming useful, and as the winter passed away, the work in summer did not come in so briskly.

During the summer of this year, 1830, the reign of George IV. came to an end, a short reign, but many troubles, and the national mind manifested no expression of regret on the demise of this self-indulgent and passion-gratifying monarch, while that of his predecessor was said to be just, pious, temperate, and beneficent; every domestic and social grace adorned his character—the ruler and the ornament of a powerful and wealthy empire.

William Henry succeeded to the throne under the title of William IV.

As it happened, the people at Worlingham, with whom I lodged had a son, who had just taken a business in the parish of St. Lawrence, near Bungay, an agricultural district. This man, wanting another hand, I was engaged to go there to work for him, for a time: but the poor master was not very successful. His wife was afflicted with violent epileptic fits. I continued with him about a year, and we had a good run of work, but adverse circumstances bore him down, and in a short time after he left his suffering wife in the care of her parents, sold his effects, and emigrated to America, and I heard but little more of George Whyatt. As to myself, I was glad to leave the neighbourhood, for gross darkness seemed to have covered the minds of the people, being “led captive by the adversary at his will,” from whose power they were not easily delivered, except by divine interposition. The “Royal Oak” was the place of meeting on Sundays. There were then no prohibited hours. Those, who appeared to be of the better class, did not scruple to spend the best part of the Sabbath at the tavern—sad waste of life and time.

From this place, I thought I should like to obtain work at Laxfield, my native village. My parents were still there, and I tried, but did not succeed. There was no open door, and the right way was more eastward and I once more tented my steps to Worlingham, and perhaps felt more happy than I had been for some time. Being accepted at my former lodgings, I worked sometimes for my late master, and sometimes for his father, and had the free use of my hands and feet, and withal felt the privilege of breathing in a more salubrious atmosphere, the comfort of which I felt to be of considerable value, as my aim was not to be conformed to the world. I could attend the services of the church, and also the services of the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel, where I found much spiritual instruction, although, by the way, I did not endorse all their sentiments. My views were becoming Calvanistic, which were strengthened when I occasionally heard Mr. George Wright, Baptist Minister, of Beccles, and Mr. Sloper, of the Congregational Chapel of that town, both of whom are departed hence, and have entered into their rest to be for ever with the Lord, while it is my privilege to follow, although at an humble distance, amid the perplexing and diversified vicissitudes to which poor fallen man is subject in this time state, and having no settled and permanent repose, is continually reminded that the true and substantial rest is at the end of his journey, if sought after according to the instructions contained in God’s Holy Word.

About this time I thought as I had no one but myself, I would try gentleman’s service, not that I had any particular wish to leave Worlingham, but on the whole I thought I might better my condition, so agreed to go into the service of Edmund Skepper, Esq., Maltster, at Oulton, in the capacity of a groom and gardener. The family here consisted of master, mistress, widowed daughter, and grand daughter, two female servants, myself, and a lad living out to attend to cows, fowls, pigs, &c.

The family professed to serve the Lord, the house-hold were summoned to morning devotion before breakfast: a short piece being read and prayer offered; also evenings before retiring to rest, bible reading and prayer: sermon and prayer on Sunday evenings.

The services at the parish church were held alternately morning and afternoon, the other part we generally attended the church at Lowestoft, where we heard good Mr. Cunningham, or his curate, Mr. Hankinson, or Mr. Hawtry, of Pakefield; there was also a religious service held at a cottage near, conducted by Mr. Skepper, jun., who resided near with his family. At times I was permitted to attend those evening services, but that gentleman was not permitted to stay here but 42 years, he was attacked with violent typus fever during the summer of 1837, and was carried off after a short illness, leaving a widow with four sons and two daughters to mourn their loss. I wrote a few verses on the occasion of his funeral, this is a specimen.

Oh messenger, how keen thy blow, Our worthy friend thou hast laid low: Yet we rejoice our reason’s just, In Jesus’ blood he placed his trust.

I did not reside with this gentleman’s father at the time of his death, he having died the previous year, 1836, the mother having died in 1835. How quickly we are gone!

I must beg to make a retrograde movement here, and go back to the duties devolving on me as gardener: the winter rolled on and spring approached, preparations were needed, there was in the garden a forcing pit, such an one I had never before seen, I sought and obtained the advice and assistance of Richard Sturman, he directed me how to proceed; acting under his advice we had a satisfactory supply of cucumbers, melons, and other garden produce.

The elder Mr. Skepper greatly admired the colony of rooks that assembled during the early spring, and when their young ones were about leaving, he used to being out his air gun and bring down the black family with great precision, my duty on those occasions was to perform the office of armour bearer, and to pump the air into the empty tube while the other was being expended; it was rather a hard job but did not last many hours at a time, and then only in fine weather. I had also to grind and deliver out small quantities of malt (not less then a peck), to the workpeople and others, the grinding was performed by a handmill, but when any extra quantity was required, I had the assistance of the lad John Adams, who was always at hand, and willing to lend a helping hand in any emergency, although often irritated by there petition of the noisy bell, which generally stood very handy to summon the out-of-door satellites.

I usually drove master out two or three times a week, sometimes to Lowestoft, or Beccles, or Yarmouth, or other places, calling upon farmers and others in the way of trade. God, in his goodness, so preserved us that we never met with any accident, although late at night getting home. Their daughter, Mrs. Clarke, had a pony and chaise for the private use of herself and daughter. I did not drive them except on Sunday to Church, to Lowestoft or Pakefield, as they felt inclined.

In the month of July of the first year I was living with this family, I lost my dear father by death, he being only 59 years off age—1833. My mother was left to sorrow for his departure, and to work her way through the various trials which bestrewed her path, supported by a watchful, kind, overruling Providence, many years.

Favoured with an excellent state of health, I did not at all regret leaving the shoe trade for a time, and perhaps this healthful employment may have been the means of lengthening out my life, under the divine favour who has guarded my steps in all my journey hitherto, and will continue to do so unto the end of my course.

Mr. Charles Fisher was rector of Oulton at this time, having been appointed in 1829. He was greatly afflicted, and had a curate, Mr. Richard Pearson, to perform the duties in the parish. I forbear to insert the prefix which clergymen of the Church of England, and many Dissenting ministers also use, because I think the appellation belongs to God rather than to His creatures, however pure and holy their office or character. Whenever I hear it spoken as applied to a creature, it grates harshly on my ear, but it may be consistent nevertheless.

I had often an opportunity of conversing with John Adams, the elder (a working maltster on the establishment), and his good wife, both members of a Christian church, who were seeking to walk in the ways of the Lord. I also felt a longing desire to follow in their steps, as they were following Christ, our Great Redeemer, the infinite freeness, and the unspeakable preciousness of his electing love. Why were any chosen, when all might justly have been passed by? Because he was resolved, for His own name’s sake, to make known the riches of His glory on the vessels of mercy, whom He therefore prepared unto grace and glory.

Thus, then, the summer of 1833 passed away. The garden crops had been very fair, and the orchard crops were abundant. I revelled among the apples, plums, pears and walnuts, day after day, when the weather was suitable. In process of time, they were stored, as a supply for the family during the approaching winter, and, moreover, I engaged to remain with the family another year.

The storage of potatoes now commenced. A large space had been planted, and now they must be gathered in. Happily, there were no traces of that fearful blight, which have been so prevalent in these latter years, and which we trust will speedily be removed by the interposition of a kind and merciful God, who assuredly doeth all things well, as the preservation of our lives and health abundantly testify, rejoicing our hearts as we are permitted to gather in the superabundant blessings bestowed by the Fatherly hand of the Giver of all good.

The spring succeeded; the ground required preparation, and for crops to be got in no time must now be lost, and, with the assistance of a man now and again, to do some of the heavy digging, and by perseverance, favoured with a continuation of health, and other blessings, I felt that the onward course was somewhat cheerful, rejoicing in the notes of the peacock, the cuckoo, the nightingale, and others of the feathered throng by which we were surrounded.

It was in this place that I first saw my future wife. She had come into the same service as housemaid, and Mary Ann Newson (the future wife of George Anguish) as cook and dairymaid. Very industrious servants they were, considering Oulton Hall was not the best constructed residence. There was a flight of stairs from the kitchen, but they led to the mistress and master’s room. I was only permitted to pass through that room by special license, at other times having to pass through the parlour on my way to a corridor which led to my bedroom: the family had not then retired to rest. We had reading and prayers at half past eight o’clock, then I had to go out and see if all was right, and pass quietly to bed at nine. There was always plenty of work requiring to be done—horses and chaises to be attended to, going out when ordered, gravel and grass in front to keep in order, crops in garden to keep up in succession, weeds to keep down, walks to keep neat, fruit to protect from a hundred and one enemies, against some of which I had to wage war, and make their destruction sure, no longer to cause any annoyance.

The season of summer quickly passed away, and the 11th of October, 1834, arrived, when my agreement expired, as also did the female servants’, and new situations were now sought. For myself, I thought I would turn my attention to the boot line, at Lowestoft, but soon found my work would not pass, as being not altogether suitable for town inspection, consequently, I agreed with Mr. R. Winyard, a practical bootmaker, of the High-street, to club myself to him for one year, he to find me all the work I could fairly do, and himself to instruct me in the art, where he saw my knowledge defective. My future wife (Hannah Cox) obtained a situation as housemaid in the family of E. Norton, Esq., solicitor, London Road.

There had been two young men, just before, in the service of Mr. Winyard, who had sickened and died. This was rather a singular, as also a discouraging circumstance, yet I thought if the good Lord was pleased to continue unto me good health, I would try to do my best, so that I should be able in future to obtain employment. I soon found my work had to pass through a different process to what I had been accustomed. The master was patient, and set before me what he considered correct lines, in preference to those which I had acquired in the country, for although he had served his apprenticeship in the country at the time I was serving, but not with the same master, yet, after his time expired, he worked in large manufacturing towns, such as Norwich, Northampton, Cambridge, and Bedford, from which latter place he brought his wife, and settled down in Lowestoft, and obtained a good fair share of the work of that town.

As to myself, my means were rather limited. I found I must adhere to economy. I lodged in the master’s house, so that when business was urgent, I could rise early and attend to it, and had not to wait for anyone to let me in. This was rather an advantage, which was duly appreciated, whether in winter or summer. Our principal work was Wellington boots and Bluchers. I came in for a good share of this work, as there was also a man from Norwich, who done the women’s work, and there was likewise a good share of blocking done by me. That was a process I had not witnessed during my apprenticeship. It was to strain the fronts of Wellingtons and other boots, so that they might fit and set close upon the instep, clean and even, that the boot might be comfortable and smart when it was worn.

There was another bootmaker on the opposite side of the street, and there he exhibited a show boot. The fingers of our Norwich man seemed eager to tear this unnecessary appendage from its not very lofty position. It was decided that down it must come. There were no policemen in Lowestoft at this time, otherwise our steps would have been more marked with prudence. A ladder was marked out at a building, and about midnight Mr. Palmer’s elegant boot went speedily down the turnpike, its mutilated remains being subsequently found in a garden in that direction, never more to be restored to its former position, however much it might be needed.

This was to me an obscure and hazy atmosphere; the family did not reverence the Lord; there was not that veneration for the Sabbath, to which I had been accustomed, the motto most absorbing was working, eating, and drinking, but I had an upper room to myself and when the day’s business was over, I enjoyed that retirement so desirable and refreshing to all God’s children. I preserved in the business, under the instruction of the master.

There were two apprentices on the shop, George Nobbs and George Youngman. There was also a journeyman of the name of Edward Marjoram, all of them having died young men, while I am suffered to journey onward, amidst many difficulties, yet still supplied, protected, and sustained by the good hand of my God.

Amidst the many changes, the cares, the dangers, and the perplexities, as also the many comforts, I experienced, the year rolled away, and my experience gave me reasons to hope that I should have a fair amount of work in the establishment, with fair wages, which, to a certain extent, was realised, so that onward I continued to work for Mr. Winyard, at Lowestoft.

My sweetheart having left Mr. Norton’s family, she subsequently obtained a situation at Yarmouth, in the family of J. Hurry, Esq., as she said she thought it best to take a wider distance. I continued to work at Lowestoft, as before, and was elevated to the master’s seat, there being nearly enough for him to attend to downstairs, and at other places. I felt desirous of making the best use of my time, and being on piecework, could sometimes make long days, but at other times work did not come up so freely. Then the hands became impatient and wearied, when anxious to earn money, and could not seem to get forward. These were some of the beginnings of the trials of life, and they were to be continued, however desirous it might be to have them removed, but while permitted, they have their effects upon those whom they are designed to benefit.

The cheap postage had not yet come into operation, but letters could be enclosed in brown paper, and thus, taking the form of a parcel, were conveyed to Yarmouth, and safely delivered for the sum of twopence, by Mr. John Balls, at that time a carrier, residing at the corner of Duke’s Head Street, Lowestoft.

I continued to work in that town until drawing towards the close of the summer of 1836. I was asked by Mrs. Clarke if I would agree to come into her service; she would give me a week to think it over. I did so, and knowing them to be quiet, religious people, arranged to go to reside in their house, and be their servant. They kept a pair of ponies and a four-wheeled phæton. The family consisted of mistress (a widow lady), daughter, housekeeper, and myself, so that when all went out together, the carriage was fairly filled.