Part 6

The harvest of this year was generally begun on the 13th of August, and it was rather showery during the remainder of the month, yet we had some bright days, so that the wheat was secured in good condition, but it was very wet during the month of September. Wednesday, the 5th, was the only day in that week suitable for barley carting, and then it rained at six o’clock in the evening. Thursday, 13th, was the next fine day; men were employed in lifting and preparing the corn for carting, only to be followed by a heavy rain next morning, so that the only day in that week for carting was Saturday, and then it again rained by six o’clock in the evening. Patience and prayers are needed.

The harvest-home festival was unusually late, owing to the unfavourable state of the weather. The corn could not be carried before Thursday, September 27th, yet there is still great cause for thanks that the corn is secured, that provision is made for our returning winter, and that our Heavenly Father is good and merciful still, although we are so prone to murmur.

January, 1867, arrives with its abundance of frost and immense blocks of drifting snow. Two or three of my old neighbours are removed by death in quick succession—Archer Beales, the elder, on January 5th, aged 74; the wife of Robert Newbury was called home, January 12th; and John Cox, my wife’s father, died on the 19th January, aged 76 years, and buried on Sunday, 27th, having lived a widower 19 years and 11 months. Thus Death is commissioned to remove us, from the Prince Consort, in the palace, to the peasant in his humble cot. At this time, also, is stricken down my old neighbour and friend, George Mobbs, a man of strict integrity, who served with me in the office of parish constable, having removed to Mutford, and, after having lived there five months, died, and was brought to Oulton, and buried on Sunday, the 10th March. Then, again, at Lowestoft, Sergeant Hargraves, drill-instructor, is walking out on Sunday evening, the 5th May, when he was suddenly taken ill and died, at the age of 41 years, calling to us, who are survivors of these painful events, that the ways of Jehovah are far above our finite and limited conception.

A sad event occurred in the spring of this year by the upsetting of a boat on Oulton Broad. On Good Friday, April 10th, 1868, a party of three young men engaged a boat, that they might amuse themselves upon the water. The wind on that day became strong, and, themselves unskilful in managing it, very soon overturned, and all were immersed in the water, two of them—James Ellis Fisk and John Knights—both aged 18, were drowned. It was a sad spectacle the jury were called to view, as they were laid side by side, prepared for burial. Their life had vanished as a dream, when one awaketh.

My two new cottages were built this year; they were begun on Thursday, the 5th March, and in due time were completed. This was a remarkably hot and dry summer, as by a note to hand:

There has been a very long drought, June passing almost without rain. A little fell on the 2nd., and now we are arrived at the 17th of July, and on this day it has pleased God, in His mercy, to command the rain to descend in abundance, with a sharp tempest, the two previous days having been very hot.

The harvest was generally begun on the 24th of July, and at Mr. Barnard’s farm, at Carlton, the whole of the corn was gathered in by the 30th of that month, and the harvest-home festival celebrated at Oulton, on the 20th August.

My wife’s only brother, who had been suffering from consumption for a long time, died October 8th at Lowestoft, aged 46 years, leaving a widow and four children to mourn their bereavement. We took the second boy under our charge, and kept him seven years. During that interval, his two brothers had died, and only him and his sister was left. Edmund Challis, my wife’s sister’s husband, was killed by a loaded carriage passing over his body on the 17th of February, 1869, surviving his first wife only three years. We know not what a day may bring forth. I happened to meet that poor man coming from Lowestoft with the loaded wagon, and he was then riding, not thinking that would be the last time that I should see him, but it proved to be so, and he is gone. There is a piece of ground adjoining my garden, containing about 40 perches, and belonging to Mr. Knights. That gentleman was willing to treat with me as to the purchase of the same, and we agreeing, I became the purchaser thereof for £45, and had the pump put down thereon in the month of May, having found, and still continuing to find a good supply of pure water—thanks to the Giver of all good. It is delightful to live and walk in the shining of God’s countenance; but to die in the light and consolation of his presence is the crowning mercy of all. How gracious is the Holy Spirit of Promise to shine away the doubts and fears of His people, and put them to bed by daylight! O, may it be more and more my privilege to taste the sweetness of His love, rise into a nearer conformity to His image; enjoy closer communion with Him, and experience an increasing sense of his never-failing faithfulness, and catch a glimpse of that page in the Book of Life, whereon is written my unworthy name.

The year of 1870 brings with it many incidents peculiar to our position. “Man walketh in a vain shadow.” On February 7th, Mr. Robert Morris, a chemist at Lowestoft, and one, who when young, attended at the same school with myself (Mr. Goodwin’s, at Laxfield) died at the age of 59. Thus my old schoolfellows are receding from view. I know not now where to find half a dozen. O, let me be thankful for the mercies bestowed upon me. We had very little rain from the first Monday in May to the last Saturday in June. My old neighbour, John Adams, who had served his generation, by the will of God, fell asleep on the 14th day of July, and was gathered to his rest at the age of 85 years. The harvest was generally begun on the 12th August, but the weather was very fickle. A thunderstorm came on the night of Thursday, 18th, and from that time to the end of the following week, we had rain every day, and on Sunday, 28th, as much rain fell as had fallen during the week previous, so that rain continued, with slight intermission for 12 days, and harvest was scarcely concluded by September 8th, the celebration of the harvest-home of that year.

An inquest was held at the Wherry Inn, on the 23rd day of August, before Dr. Pearson, on the body of James Gibbs, aged 12 years, who was drowned by the breaking of a hook rope on board a wherry, sailing on Oulton Broad, on Saturday, August 20th. This was but a short course, from the cradle to the grave, from suffering and from sin, for ever emancipated. “Teach me, O Lord, the way of Thy statutes, and make me keep it unto the end, and by Thy grace cause me to finish the work thou hast given me to do.”

Mr. Edward Leathes, of Normanstone, was called away by death on the 11th February, 1871—the day after a great snowstorm—aged 75.

Having secured the piece of ground before-mentioned, and settled all demands for the same, in which my wife concurred, and assisted, and having made and executed a will, making everything that I possessed over to her for her own use, benefit, and enjoyment, the same being duly attested by Henry Bull and his wife, matters having been thus satisfactorily arranged, I afterwards suggested to my wife, in sincere fidelity, that if she could and would supply twenty pounds, I would do the rest, and build thereon a nice cottage, and she should have the full power to do with it as to choosing her own tenants, and other matters in connection therewith, as long as she should live. My proposal was indignantly rejected, the motive was grieviously maligned and aspersed. I drove on heavily, as if my wheels were impeded. Nevertheless I borrowed £25 of a friend, and built a cottage, and let it to a tenant for a time, and the scene here changes.

An inquest was held at the Wherry Inn, on the 15th August, before Dr. Pearson, deputy-coroner, on the body of George Copsey Nelson who was drowned while bathing in Oulton Broad on Sunday, August 13th. There is something very striking in connection with this inquest. One of the jurors—Horace Martin—as now investigating a case of drowning, was himself drowned in the same piece of water before 12 months had passed away.

I have stated that £25 were borrowed from a friend. I never had anything to do in connection with loan societies. I remember to have heard an observation from our late County Court Judge: “I wonder,” said he, “the people can be so gulled; no sooner do you fail in paying the instalments, for which you have contracted, when down comes the office upon the sureties, and if the money is not forthcoming, your property is seized, and get out of it as you can, no matter how.”

I will note down here the speedy departure of a few of my female neighbours:—Mrs. James Knights died March 6th; Mrs. William Jacobs died March 27th; Mrs. John Drake died May 24th; Mrs. John Knights died June 2; Mrs. Nursey, “Boar” Inn, died July 10th; Mrs. Stevens died July 21st, aged 56. The above were all taken from us in 1871, with many others.

Another inquest was held at the “Wherry” Inn, on the 27th day of July, 1872, before Mr. F. B. Marriott, coroner, on the body of Horace Martin, who was accidently drowned by falling from his yacht, on the 25th. How soon the scene changes. A few days before all was anticipated—happiness and pleasure, the charms and attractions of the smooth lake, swiftly gliding along in his frail skiff, unconscious of the swiftness of time, and the sadness which not unfrequently terminates this mortal life, and then those precious opportunities which have been so often disregarded and wasted, are gone for ever. The above afflictive bereavement was too great to be supported by the widow. She also died during the following year. “Watch, for ye know not when the time is.”

The public auction of Mr. Townsend’s effects came off on the 2nd of January, 1873, that gentleman having died a month previous, November 30th. Mr. Thomas Goff, my old master of harvest, died three weeks later, December 20th.

Again the Coroner held an inquest at the same inn. This time it was on the body of Joseph Knights son of William Goldsmith, who was accidentally drowned the previous day from a boat on Oulton Broad.

By reason of some cross shooting, that have to a certain extent prevailed, since the cottage was erected, I felt resolved to dispose of the first built ones—the six by the road, with the little one at the back with the gardens, retaining the last purchase and cottage thereon, to be for the benefit of my wife, in the event of her being the survivor, she should not be left destitute. I submitted my burden first to the Lord, from whom I sought direction. I weighed and pondered over it again and again. Then I resolved to consult Mr. Chater, a solicitor at Lowestoft, as to the expediency of a sale, or an annuity, and which of the two would be most preferable. As it was not prudent to proceed in too much haste, that gentleman required a week for consideration of the matter, and then at the expiration of that time the same subject could be renewed. During the interval, I made known to my wife what was in contemplation. It was treated very tamely, as being viewed by one taking a casual glance from a distant standpoint, as if the near approach and investigation was far beneath the attention of one who could for the time being stand aloof, ready to command an immediate surrender, when, as then thought the proper time had arrived, or should do so. Eventually, at my next interview with Mr. Chater, proposals were made as to taking the property off my hands, which were by me accepted. And, although for the last few years, property of that description have risen in value in the neighbourhood, of that I am glad. Yet representations have gone forth which have tended to work prejudice and mischief. I am willing to bend to all these drawbacks, and at present have never had the least cause to regret, but am thankful. This, then, I take to be one of the roads opened to me to walk therein, and in so walking cannot I see the good hand of my God, for good, for tranquility, after the bustle and perplexity and cares of business in obtaining my daily bread; and permitted, also, at times to partake of that bread which endureth unto eternal life. Here, then, is the comfort in finding the passage to the grave not only smoother, but the mind more comforted, being drawn off from worldly cares and attractions, and, while so favoured, I can think of my fallen condition, my original depravity from which there is no deliverance, except by the free grace of the Father, and the imputed righteousness of a sacrificed Redeemer. This leads me to prize the bloodshedding, the obedience, and intercession of the Lord Jesus Christ, the second Adam, the Lord from heaven, who has come to repair the ruins of the first, and to insist that “except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

An inquest was held on Saturday, the 6th day of June, 1874, before F. B. Marriott, Esq., at the late residence of Charles Goldsmith, who had hanged himself in his barn the preceding day.

I am now thinking of relinquishing my business as a boot and shoemaker, but not in the manner that poor miserable creature has done, who is mentioned above. I never felt envious at that kind of prosperity with which he was encompassed, but am preserved and defended even from my youth up, so that I can boldly say the Lord is my helper, and He is my strong defence, and I trust will be so even to the end of my course, which cannot be far distant, but soberness and vigilance are still needful lest the enemy of our souls obtain advantage. I need not indulge in idleness—a good deal of labour is required to bring my newly acquired ground into cultivation. Here is the fence to be planted, a living fence inside, and a wain fence of nine inches outside, which space I have a right to claim. This, of which I am now speaking, is the westernmost fence, and is getting up nicely. Then there were also barrows full of dandelions to extirminate, and the grass to bury deeply; the potatoes to plant and mould up that they might be productive, and many other kinds of garden work to perform, all in keeping with a healthful and, to some extent, remunerative occupation: and thus the time glided on.

I have not much to record this year (1875) although many mercies have been accorded to me, a good state of health, and privileged to have intercourse with friends, some of them being at a great distance, and very probably shall behold them no more in the flesh, yet we are privileged to serve the same God, “one God and Father of all,” ever ready to hear petitions and grant requests. There has lately been some irregularities practised by two of the members of the Pakefield Friendly Society in my district. An enquiry was set on foot, the charge made against them was proved, and the consequence was that they were both expelled, and all monies heretofore paid were forfeited to the use of the Society.

Old neighbour Sarah Bales died on the 17th January, having survived her husband eight years. The good Lord grant us pardon for our offences, for we lift up our souls unto Thee. Cast us not away from Thy presence, take not Thy holy spirit from us, but direct our hearts into Thy love, and our feet in the way of thy testimonies. Whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, may we do all to the glory of God, and walk as seeing Him that is invisible, and may God be the strength of my heart, the guide of my goings, and my portion for ever and ever, amen.

Another inquest was held by the same coroner, on the 15th May, 1875, on the body of James Paston, who was accidentally drowned in Oulton Dyke, from off his wherry, the preceding day. “Ye know not when the time is.”

There is no doubt but that every believer has his winter seasons of providential afflictions and of spiritual distress. Yet if the God of love is ever peculiarly near to his people for good, it is when His arrows stick fast in them, and when His hand presseth them sore, and at the time appointed their consolations return as the clear shining after rain, and theirs is as the sun when it goeth forth in its might, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of the birds has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land—the peace of God.

The next inquest took place on Friday, the 20th day of August, at the “Lady of the Lake” Hotel, before Mr. William Ebden, deputy-coroner, on the body of Charles Everitt, aged eleven years, who was accidentally drowned by the capsizing of a sailing boat on Oulton Broad, on the afternoon of Wednesday, August 18th, 1875. How frail the youth, how short the date.

As I have but little to record as regards my own experience during this year (1876), I sit down and ponder over a paragraph of Dr. Dick’s Celestial Scenery. He says:—“There is no contrivance in the system more wonderful than the rings of Saturn. That these rings should be separated thirty thousand miles from the body of the planet, that they should, notwithstanding, accompany the planet in its revolution round the sun, preserving invariably the same distance from it, that they should revolve round the planet every ten hours at the immense velocity of more than a thousand miles in a minute, and that they should never fly off to the distant regions of space, nor fall down upon the planet, are circumstances which required adjustments far mere intricate and exquisite than we can conceive, and demonstrate that the Almighty Contriver of that stupendous Appendage to the globe of Saturn is ‘great in counsel and mighty in operation.’ Yet these adjustments, in whatever they may consist, have been completely effected. For this planet has been flying through the regions of space in a regular curve for thousands of years, and the system of its satellites and rings still remains as at its first creation.”

Mr. George Cox, the last of my wife’s uncles, died at Lowestoft on the 9th day of April, 1877, aged 71 years, having survived his wife eleven years and five months: “they desired a better country.” The memory of the mother and father is sweet to surviving children, and we will tread softly on their graves. The first that was called away experienced severe affliction for many years, but patiently endured to the end of her course. “If ye endure chastening God dealeth with you as with sons.”—_Hebrews_ xii, 7.

Of the father, it might be said when the appointed time had arrived, the summons was executed more speedily. After only three days severe illness, although favoured with consciousness even to the last. On the morning of that day, April 9th, he made this observation to his daughter. “My dear I’m going to leave you, but Christ will be with you.” During the day a dear friend came in, and in conversation suggested, “Mr. Cox the pearly gates are ajar for you,” he smilingly replied, “not ajar, they stand wide open”; then singing “There are Angels hovering round,” and “Rock of Ages cleft for me” _for me_. Again he said to his beloved daughter, “My dear this is victory over death: I am passing over the river dry shod, my end is peace, Jesus hath wiped away all tears.” Then urging all to love Jesus and meet him in heaven, he requested all present to kneel in earnest and humble prayer around his bed, and afterwards raising his hands calmly replied “_I am coming_, _I am coming_,” and his happy spirit took its flight to be for ever with the Lord. “Wherefore comfort one another with these words.”

Charles Flaxman, another of my old neighbours, died at Lowestoft on the above date, April 9th, 1877. And also yet another taken in the same week, Mrs. Sarah Morris (late Suggate,) fell down the stairs in her house, and was afterwards found quite dead. But the most joyous testimony is, they all died in the faith, and through that grace having obtained a good report, have now entered into possession of what they here held in reversion, a promise of the life to come. The children of God have sometimes comfortable anticipations of the glory that shall be revealed when faith pierces within the veil, whither Jesus our forerunner is gone before, and as in the language of the spies of old, “We have seen the land and behold it is very good, when shall we go up and take possession.” “When shall we get through the desert.”

Mr. John Knights, of whom I had bought my piece of land, died December 2nd, 1877.

When shall we receive the end of our faith, even the full salvation of our souls? How long, O Lord, holy and true? why tarry the wheels of thy chariot? return unto thy rest, O my soul, the Lord deals bountifully.

Inquest held at the “Lady of the Lake” Inn, on the body of Emily Charlotte, daughter of William Scarll, aged 5 years, who was mortally injured by the wheel of a cart passing over her body, on the 12th of August, 1878, during a sharp thunderstorm, she died on the 18th, and the inquest was held on the 20th, before C. W. Chaston, Esq., coroner. The parents are sorrowful.

“When virtuous sorrow clouds the face, And tears bedim the eye; The soul is led to solemn thought, And wafted to the sky.”

The new board school was opened May 27th of this year, Mr. Gray, master.

James Knights, the elder, died the latter end of May. His son John died on the 2nd of August, aged 56 years; he had been for many weeks afflicted. My good old neighbour, Mrs. Phebe Adams, died at Yarmouth, at the house of her younger son Alfred, on the 16th of October, aged 86 years (this was the fortieth anniversary of my marriage). She was brought to Oulton and laid beside her husband who had died eight years earlier. Mr. Woolterton (called Dr.) had resided here about twenty years, and departed this life on the 17th of October, aged 32 years, and was buried at Oulton. Two more of my neighbours are called away: David Bullen, on the 15th of August, 1879, aged 82 years, after a long affliction; and also Mrs. High, on the 21st of August, also after years of suffering, aged 78 years. “Thou turnest man to destruction, again thou sayest come again ye children of men.”