His early efforts—Appearance before a Magistrate—Anecdotes—Cornbury
Mill—Death—Funeral—Inscription.
DENIED the spiritual enjoyments so abundant in the present day, which it
is to be feared from their very abundance are slighted, he was accustomed
to repair sometimes in the daytime, when he could leave his flock in the
care of another, but especially in the evening after the toils and
fatigues of the day, to Seend, probably where some of his own people
might be found, and unite with them in devotional exercises, returning
the same night, that so he might be ready for his daily duties, so strict
was he in regard to the rights of others, and lest his good might be evil
spoken of. He soon began to collect a few of his neighbours beneath his
natal cot, at first at the time of his morning and evening orisons, and
on the evening of the Sabbath, for the purpose of reading the Scriptures,
singing and prayers, doubtless he would exhort them to seek the salvation
of their souls, as appears to have been the case from his own confession
in the instance that follows:—He was once summoned before a magistrate by
one of the overseers of the parish, who, by his officious interference,
sought to gain the approbation of those above him, upon the charge of not
only allowing but himself preaching in his own house. Would he have been
so active if he had carried on a course of evil and seduced others to
sin? I trow not. When questioned on the subject by the bench, he
replied, “May it please your worship to hear what I have to say. I think
it my duty to pray with my family night and morning, and if opportunity
permit, to read part of the Word of God to them. On Sunday mornings we
rise an hour or two before I go to my sheep, that we may spend a little
more time than on other days in the worship of God. Some few of my
neighbours frequently come in and join us. We first sing a psalm or
hymn, I then read a chapter or two of the bible, and sometimes I
endeavour in my poor way to explain their meaning, we then conclude our
Sabbath morning’s exercise with prayer to God. As for preaching, I never
attempt any such thing, but leave it to those who are called to preach.”
The justice, who was a clergyman, reproved the persecutor and accuser,
and admonished him to go and follow so good an example.
On Littleton downs he erected a hut for his own and others’ accommodation
when the weather was bad; (this was blown down in a violent hurricane of
wind, but was afterward rebuilt of firmer material, viz., brick, and made
more convenient by his friend, Dr. Stonehouse). Beneath its roof, when
the flocks were placed in safety, he would collect the shepherds and
shepherdesses (for there were several at that time owing to the
deficiency of male persons to do the work), and read to them from the
Bible, or rather commentary, now in the possession of Mrs. Bartlett, of
Cheverill, and after talking with them would engage in prayer. One now
living (1855), then young, has stated that no one knew where he put the
bible after reading, as she with others often searched but could never
find it. He would sharply reprove the idle and careless, and then
encourage them to diligence in some way or other, saying, “we cannot
expect young ones to be old ones, I was young myself once.”
Among the other efforts which he put forth for the good of those around
him was the opening of an evening school, where he taught such as desired
it to read and write. Finding his house too small to accommodate his
increasing family, but especially for those who came to hear and be
instructed, he obtained the one adjoining, which he chiefly devoted to
this purpose. A gentleman by the name of Bartlett, frequently invited
him to his house; he had a son, an infant, who engaged the shepherd’s
particular attention; and it is remarked, when at Cheverill, he would
never leave the house until he had knelt at the cradle of the babe and
poured out his soul in earnest supplication for his eternal welfare.
Upon the death of the shepherd, that child, risen to the state of youth,
appropriated the money that had been given him and which he had suffered
to accumulate, to the purchase of the family bible, still in the
possession of his widow, and which the Author has seen; it was a
commentary, doubtless published by Wesley at the commencement of his
public career, soon after leaving college; the date is 1751. He also
bought the sheep-bells and two pet lambs, the last he ever kept, which
was a privilege allowed by flock-masters to their shepherds. A view of
the hallowed spot where this good man abode, and where stood the cot
within which he first drew his breath, may be obtained to peculiar
advantage, attended with great picturesque beauty (as if nature would do
honour to his memory), from a field adjoining Ladywood, just beyond the
grove which is approached through the churchyard; a spot of which a
respectable gentleman, formerly occupying an important position in the
Independent church of this place, was wont to speak in terms of the
highest praise. “I can never pass this spot,” said he, “without stopping
to admire its peculiar beauty.” Doubtless the eye, the inlet to the
soul, was instrumental in producing associations of the most pleasing
character bearing upon the man and events whose history we are now
recording, and contemplating those probable results which time would
develope.
[Picture: Ladywood Vale, with Shepherd’s Cottage]
It was a favourite saying of the shepherd’s when any one was disposed to
stint a child or children in food, “Cut your last loaf as cheerfully as
the first, they are growing and want plenty of victuals, if God sends
children he will send bread.”
Sometimes when his daily allowance of bread, for this was the staple of
his food, became very dry and hard, he would put it into the pond where
his flock watered as he passed to the fold, intending after he had
finished to return and take it out. On one occasion, having made the
deposit, his companion (his dog), influenced by the spirit that often
governs his betters, proved treacherous and false, slyly slinking behind
he approached the place and appropriated the coveted morsel to satisfy
his own selfish appetite, in obedience to the universal law, “Take care
of Number One.” Upon becoming acquainted with his loss, and to him it
was likely to prove a great privation, as the probability was he must go
without food all day, he made his case known to his companions, one of
whom, Mary Shore (who was under him for several years), pressed him to
accept of hers, as she should not want it, having brought a double
portion that day and already eaten sufficient: upon her repeated
assurance to this fact he took it, pleasantly remarking, “Never mind, the
dog, poor fellow, was hungry, and dogs want food.” Exposed as he was
upon the downs to some of those awful manifestations of the Divine power
in thunder and lightning, he was never known to exhibit the least fear or
alarm as to himself; this did not arise from a stoical apathy or
thoughtless hardihood, but a calm composure and preparedness of mind for
the Divine will. He would say, “I am ready whenever it pleases God to
call me, here or elsewhere, and I do not care where they bury me, they
can bury me here if they like,” alluding to the hut before mentioned,
near which he was standing.
Although religion in humble garb is apt to meet with reproach and
persecution, yet in the case of this lowly follower of the Saviour there
appears a mysterious charm, an immortal Ægis thrown around him, by which
he was shielded from the many and bitter sufferings that often surround
the disciples of Christ, and which awakened towards him respect and
affection, not only of his own immediate class, for some that knew him
have testified he was a right-down good man and there is no David
Saunders now, but also of his superiors far and wide; a circumstance
which he appears to have improved to advantage, not to himself or his
family, but for the good of others and the glory of God, as he said,
“There is not a house in the parish in which I have not engaged in
prayer,” in which exercise he manifested a strong temperament, a blending
of confidence and enthusiasm bordering upon simplicity. The following is
an instance:—Prior to a journey to the neighbourhood of Bath, he was led
to engage in prayer with his youngest daughter Sally, then near her time;
after commending her to God, he prayed that the child might be a boy.
Soon after he reached the place of his visit he received intelligence of
the birth, and finding it was according to his wish he immediately
retired to return thanks to God for answering his prayer. His mind was
also tinctured with a belief in the supernatural. On one occasion he had
been to Seend; on returning, he passed near to a house reputed to be
haunted; hearing a noise his curiosity was awakened, and on approaching
to reconnoitre, a voice (doubtless of some person engaged thereabouts)
accosted him with “What doest thou here?” This he supposed to be a
reproof from above, which led him immediately to quit the spot: and it is
said he never after would go out of his direct road for anything.
Having relatives at Eastcote, he would sometimes walk over there on the
Sabbath afternoon, calling upon the several cottagers in his way and
invite them to come and hear the Word of God, devoting the time of his
visit to a meeting similar to those he held at his own home. This place
has continued to have services held on the Sabbath, and forms an
out-station to Lavington, which is regularly visited alternately with
Easterton, a hamlet noted for the indolent and vitiated character of the
inhabitants, as far as it relates to the soul, if indeed they ever think
about it.
[Picture: Cornbury Mill]
In a short time similar meetings were held at Cornbury Mill, situated in
Spring road, then in the occupation of Mr. John Gauntlett, the
grandfather of the individual of that name now resident here, who with
several other branches of the family are still identified with the cause
of the Redeemer. The humble shepherd devoted his efforts and energies
both at home and here to form a spiritual fold. On the mornings of the
Sabbath he would gather the sheep and lambs of Christ, such as under the
influence of the Spirit hungered and thirsted after righteousness—feed
them from the pasture of God’s Word—lead them to the fountains of still
waters—direct and comfort the burdened and heavy laden with the precious
promise of salvation. How long these continued is not exactly known.
The honoured servant of the Lord, labouring under the increasing
infirmities of age, especially lameness, probably the consequences of
that disease he in early life suffered from, as also blindness, which for
two or three years he experienced, he was unable to go far from home.
Some friends who held him in high respect, residing at Wyke, near Bath,
sent for him and desired him to pay them a visit. It was while here the
messenger was sent to invite him to the home of his Heavenly Father, a
release he had long anticipated from the toils of this wearisome world.
On the night before his death he had engaged with the family in their
devotions, and afterwards in his own room with unusual and extraordinary
fervency. Sleeping with the son of his host he spent some time
conversing on the things of God and eternity until his voice was silenced
in sleep—a sleep from which he was not to awake till the Archangel’s
trump shall tell the great day of the Lord draweth nigh. Blessed servant
who was found watching; his last work on earth talking of heaven. His
remains were removed to his own habitation at Littleton, and attended to
their last resting-place by a vast concourse of spectators and friends.
At his grave a request was presented to the officiating clergyman, the
vicar, for permission to sing over his remains, he replied, “When I have
done my part you may do as you like,” upon which, singing and prayer were
engaged in on the sacred spot, for “precious in the sight of the Lord is
the death of his saints,” so also is their dust purchased as the body is
with the soul by the Redeemer.
The place where he was laid is near the north-east corner of West
Lavington church, where a stone having a circular head, was erected to
his memory by a subsequent vicar, the Rev. E. Caswell, from the proceeds
of a small work containing letters and other pieces, the production of
John Saunders, his grandson, for the benefit of his mother. Three of his
sons, who formed part of a family of sixteen, served in the armies of
their sovereign. The following is the inscription on the stone:—
ERECTED IN THE YEAR 1829.
TO THE MEMORY OF
DAVID SAUNDERS,
KNOWN THROUGH EVERY QUARTER OF THE GLOBE
UNDER THE APPELLATION OF
The Pious Shepherd of Salisbury Plain,
WHOSE LITTLE HISTORY HAS NOW BEEN READ WITH ADMIRATION
BY MULTITUDES OF CHRISTIANS
IN
EUROPE, ASIA, AFRICA, AND AMERICA.
HE WAS BURIED HERE BY HIS SONS SEPT. 9TH, 1796.
AGED 79.
ALSO IN MEMORY OF HIS WIFE,
LYDIA SAUNDERS,
BURIED NEAR THIS PLACE,
MAY 28TH, 1789. AGED 49.
Upon opening the adjoining grave lately (April, 1855) that of the
shepherd’s gave way, and laid bare some human bones, which, from their
remarkable size (he being of large stature and muscular build) were
supposed to be his; they were returned to their kindred earth. It was
remarked by the Author’s informant, “If we had lived in the days of
shrines and relics, what a favourable opportunity would have been
afforded, and what a popular subject this! but such times have passed
away.” The stone, which was in a decaying state, has, by the order of
his grandsons, Messrs. J. and J. Chapman, been renovated.
[Picture: Church of West Lavington, with the Shepherd’s Grave]
It is much to be regretted that the humble abode where he first drew his
breath, and where his voice was so often heard instructing his own family
with others in the highest of all human learning, holiness of life,
inciting them by his precept and example to breathe after heaven, a spot
where began a reformation that has since pervaded the neighbourhood
around, and doubtless had some influence in the Established Church,
should, with the hut on the downs, like all mundane things, have suffered
under the ravages of the iron tooth of time and covetous innovation
(about two years since it was razed, and in its stead four brick
tenements erected). But if the cot has disappeared, the site remains,
and will be regarded with veneration for ages to come. It is on the top
of a lane, known as Saunders’s Lane, leading from Littleton to Russell
Mill, just opposite the fields. May the relatives with the inhabitants
of this locality be favoured to breathe the same hallowed Spirit as its
long-gone tenant, and by drinking at the spiritual fountain that
refreshed his soul realize those blessings he so largely enjoyed. The
nearest of his descendants now living are the Messrs. Chapman before
referred to, and Mrs. Holloway, their sister, of Littleton.