“She in live stock had took her care,
And of recipes had ample share,
Which I retain unto this day.”
His father-in-law was an equally eminent practitioner; when, says Will.,
“I married Sukey Holmes, her father
Did more than them put altogether;
Imparted all his skill to me,
Farrier, cowleech, and surgery,
All which he practised with success.”
Will. tells of a remarkable and surprising accident, which closed his
career as a cowleech.
“The rheumatism, (dreadful charm,)
Had fix’d so close in my left arm,
So violent throbb’d, that without stroke
To touch--it absolutely broke!
Went with a spring, made a report,
And hence in cowleech spoil’d my sport;
Remain’d so tender, weak, and sore,
I never dare attempt it more.”
Thus disqualified, he removed to Lynn, and opening a shop in
Ferry-street, commenced his operations as a purchaser and vender of old
books, odds and ends, and old articles of various descriptions; from
whence he obtained the popular appellation of “Old Hall.” On a board
over the door, he designated this shop the
~“Antiquarian Library,”~
and thus quaintly announced his establishment to the public:
---------“In Lynn, Ferry-street,
Where, should a stranger set his feet,
Just cast an eye, read ‘Antiquary!’
Turn in, and but one hour tarry,
Depend upon’t, to his surprise, sir,
He would turn out somewhat the wiser.”
He had great opportunity to indulge in “Bibliomania,” for he acquired an
extensive collection of scarce, curious, and valuable books, and became,
in fact, the only dealer in “old literature” at Lynn. He versified on
almost every occasion that seemed opportune for giving himself and his
verses publicity; and, in one of his rhyming advertisements, he
alphabetised the names of ancient and modern authors, by way of
catalogue. In addition to his bookselling business, he continued to
practise as an auctioneer. He regularly kept a book-stall, &c. in Lynn
Tuesday-market, from whence he occasionally knocked down his articles to
the best bidder; and he announced his sales in his usual whimsical
style. His hand-bill, on one of these occasions, runs thus:
“LYNN, 19th SEPTEMBER, 1810.
“First Tuesday in the next October,
Now do not doubt but we’ll be sober!
If Providence permits us action,
You may depend upon
AN AUCTION,
At the stall
That’s occupied by WILLIAM HALL.
To enumerate a task would be,
So best way is to come and see;
But not to come too vague an errant,
We’ll give a sketch which we will warrant.
“About _one hundred books_, in due lots,
And pretty near the same in _shoe-lasts_;
_Coats_, _waistcoats_, _breeches_, shining _buttons_,
Perhaps ten thousand _leather cuttings_.
Sold at per pound, your lot but ask it,
Shall be weigh’d to you in a basket;
Some lots of _tools_, to make a try on.
About one hundred weight of _iron_;
_Scales_, _earthenware_, _arm-chairs_, a _tea-urn_,
_Tea-chests_, a _herring-tub_, and so on;
With various more, that’s our intention,
Which are too tedious here to mention.
“N. B. To undeceive, ’fore you come nigher,
The duty charg’d upon the buyer;
And, should we find we’re not perplext,
We’ll keep it up the Tuesday next.”
During repeated visits to his surviving relatives in his native fens, he
observed the altered appearance of the scene from the improved method of
drainage. It had become like “another world,” and he resolved
------------------ “to try
His talent for posterity;”
and “make a book,” under the title of “The Low Fen Journal,” to comprise
“a chain of Incidents relating to the State of the Fens, from the
earliest Account to the present Time.” As a specimen of the work he
published, in the summer of 1812, an octavo pamphlet of twenty-four
pages, called a “Sketch of Local History,” by “_Will. Will-be-so_,”
announcing
“If two hundred subscribers will give in their aid,
The whole of this journal is meant to be laid
Under public view.”
This curious pamphlet of odds and ends in prose and rhyme, without order
or arrangement, contained a “caution to the buyer.”
“Let any read that will not soil or rend it,
But should they ask to borrow, _pray don’t lend it_!
Advise them, ‘_Go and buy_;’ ’twill better suit
My purpose; and with you prevent dispute.
With me a maxim ’tis, he that won’t buy
Does seldom well regard his neighbour’s property;
And did you chew the bit, so much as I do
From lending books, I think ’twould make you shy too.”
In the course of the tract, he presented to “the critics” the following
admonitory address.
“Pray, sirs, consider, had you been
Bred where whole winters nothing’s seen
But naked flood for miles and miles,
Except a boat the eye beguiles;
Or coots, in clouds, by buzzards teaz’d,
Your ear with seeming thunder seiz’d
From rais’d decoy,--there ducks on flight,
By tens of thousands darken light;
None to assist in greatest need,
Parents but very badly read,
No conversation strike the mind,
But of the lowest, vulgar kind;
Five miles from either church or school,
No coming there, but cross a pool;
Kept twenty years upon that station,
With only six months’ education;
Traverse the scene, then weigh it well,
Say, _could you better write or spell_?”
One extract, in prose, is an example of the disposition and powers of
his almost untutored mind, viz.
“_No animation without generation_ seems a standing axiom in
philosophy: but upon tasting the berry of a plant greatly resembling
brooklime, but with a narrower leaf, I found it attended with a loose
fulsomeness, very different from any thing I had ever tasted; and on
splitting one of them with my nail, out sprang a fluttering maggot,
which put me upon minute examination. The result of which was, that
every berry, according to its degree of maturity, contained a
proportionate maggot, up to the full ripe shell, where a door was
plainly discerned, and the insect had taken its flight. I have ever
since carefully inspected the herb, and the result is always the same,
viz. if you split ten thousand of the berries, you discover nothing
but an animated germ. It grows in shallow water, and is frequently
accompanied with the water plantain. Its berry is about the size of a
red currant, and comes on progressively, after the manner of juniper
in the berry: the germ is first discoverable about the middle of July,
and continues till the frost subdues it. And my conjectures lead me to
say, that one luxurious plant shall be the mother of many scores of
flies. I call it the _fly berry plant_.”
Thus far the “Sketch.” He seems to have caught the notion of his “Low
Fen Journal” from a former fen genius, whose works are become of great
price, though it must be acknowledged, more for their quaintness and
rarity, than their intrinsic merit. Will. refers to him in the following
apologetical lines.
“Well, on the earth he knows of none,
With a full turn just like his mind;
Nor only one that’s dead and gone,
Whose genius stood as his inclin’d:
No doubt the public wish to know it,
_John Taylor_, call’d the _water poet_,
Who near two centuries ago
Wrote much such nonsense as I do.”
The sale of the “Sketch” not answering his expectations, no further
symptoms of the “Journal” made their appearance at that time.
In the summer of 1815, after forty-three years’ practice as an
auctioneer, he announced his retirement by the following laconic
farewell.
“RAP SENIOR’s given it up at last,
With thanks for ev’ry favour past;
Alias ‘ANTIQUARIAN HALL’
Will never more be heard to brawl;
As auctioneer no more will lie,
But’s thrown his wicked hammer by.
Should you prefer him to appraise,
He’s licensed for future days;
Or still employ him on commission,
He’ll always treat on fair condition,
For goods brought to him at his stand.
Or at your home, to sell by hand;
Or should you want his _pen’s_ assistance,
He’ll wait on you at any distance,
To lot, collect, in place of clerk,
Or prevent moving goods i’ th’ dark;
In short, for help or counsel’s aid,
You need not of him be afraid.”
The harvest of 1816 proved wet and unfavourable, and he thought “it
almost exceeded any thing in his memory;” wherefore the world was
favoured with “Reflections upon Times, and Times and Times! or a more
than Sixty Years’ Tour of the Mind,” by “_Low-Fen-Bill-Hall_.” This was
an octavo pamphlet of sixteen pages, in prose, quite as confused as his
other productions, “transmitting to posterity,” as the results of sixty
years’ experience, that “the frequency of thunderstorms in the
spring,”--“the repeated appearance of water-spouts,”--“an innumerable
quantity of black snails,”--“an unusual number of field mice,”--and “the
great many snakes to be seen about,” are _certain_ “indications of a wet
harvest.” To these observations, intermingled with digression upon
digression, he prefixed as one of the mottoes, an extremely appropriate
quotation from _Deut._ c. 32. v. 29, “O that they were wise, that they
_understood_ this!”
In the spring of 1818, when in his seventieth year, or, as he says,
“David’s gage being near complete,” he determined on an attempt to
publish his “Low Fen Journal,” in numbers; the first of which he thus
announced:
“_A Lincolnshire rais’d medley pie_,
An original miscellany,
Not meant as canting, _puzzling mystery_,
But for a general true FEN HISTORY,
Such as design’d some time ago,
By him ’yclept _Will_. _Will-be-so_;
Here’s Number ONE for publication,
If meet the public’s approbation,
_Low-Fen-Bill-Hall_ his word engages
To send about two hundred pages,
Collected by his gleaning pains,
Mix’d with the fruit of his own brains.”
This specimen of the work was as unintelligible as the before-mentioned
introductory “Sketch,” partaking of the same autobiographical,
historical, and religious character, with acrostic, elegiac, obituarian,
and other extraneous pieces in prose and rhyme. His life had been passed
in vicissitude and hardship, “oft’ pining for a bit of bread;” and from
experience, he was well adapted to
------------------------- “tell,
To whom most extra lots befell;
Who liv’d for months on stage of planks,
’Midst captain Flood’s most swelling pranks,
Five miles from any food to have,
Yea often risk’d a wat’ry grave;”
yet his facts and style were so incongruous that speaking of the
“Sketch,” he says, when he
-------------“sent it out,
Good lack! to know what ’twas about?
He might as well have sent it muzzled,
For half the folks seem’d really puzzled.
Soliciting for patronage,
He might have spent near half an age;
From all endeavours undertook,
He could not get it to a book.”
Though the only “historical” part of the first number of his “Fen
Journal,” in twenty-four pages, consisted of prosaic fragments of his
grandfather’s “poaching,” his mother’s “groaning,” his father’s
“fishing,” and his own “conjectures;” yet he tells the public, that
“Protected by kind Providence,
I mean in less than twelve months hence,
Push’d by no very common sense,
To give six times as much as here is,
And hope there’s none will think it dear is,
Consid’ring th’ matter rather queer is.”
In prosecution of his intentions, No. 2 shortly followed; and, as it was
alike heterogeneous and unintelligible, he says he had “caught the
Swiftiania, in running digression on digression,” with as many whimseys
as “Peter, Martin, and John had in twisting their father’s will.” He
expected that this “gallimaufry” and himself would be consecrated to
posterity, for he says,
“’Tis not for lucre that I write,
But something lasting,--to indite
What may redound to purpose good,
(If hap’ly can be understood;)
And, as time passes o’er his stages
Transmit my mind to future ages.”
On concluding his second number, he “gratefully acknowledges the
liberality of his subscribers, and is apprehensive the _Interlope_ will
find a very partial acceptance; but it being so congenial an interlude
to the improvement of _Low Fen_ and _Billinghay Dale_ manners, to be
hereafter shown, he hopes it will not be considered detrimental, should
his work continue.” Such, however, was not the case, for his literary
project terminated: unforeseen events reduced his finances, and he had
not
-----------------------“Pecune
Enough, to keep his harp in tune.”
The care of a large family of orphan grandchildren, in indigent
circumstances, having devolved upon him, he became perplexed with
extreme difficulties, and again experienced the truth of his own
observation, that
“If two steps forward, oft’ three back,
Through life had been his constant track.”
Attracted by the “bodies of divinity,” and other theological works,
which his “antiquarian library” contained, his attention was
particularly directed to the fundamental truths of religion, and the
doctrines of “the various denominations of the Christian world.” The
result was, that without joining any, he imbibed such portions of the
tenets of each sect, that his opinions on this subject were as singular
as on every other. Above all sectaries, yet not entirely agreeing even
with them, he “loved and venerated” the “Moravians or United Brethren,”
for their meek, unassuming demeanour, their ceaseless perseverance in
propagating the gospel, and their boundless love towards the whole human
race. Of his own particular notions, he thus says,
“If I on doctrines have right view,
Here’s this for me, and that for you;
Another gives my neighbour comfort,
A stranger comes with one of some sort.
When after candid scrutinizing,
We find them equally worth prizing;
’Cause all in gospel love imparted,
Nor is there any one perverted;
Only as they may seem unlike,
Nor can on other’s fancy strike:
Whereas from due conformity,
O! what a spread of harmony,
Each with each, bearing and forbearing.
All wishing for a better hearing,
Would in due time, then full improve
Into _one family of love_:
Instead of shyness on each other,
My fellow-christian, sister, brother,
And each in candour thus impart,
You have my fellowship and heart;
Let this but be the _root_ o’ th’ sense,
_Jesus the Christ_, my confidence,
As given in the Father’s love,
No other system I approve.”
After a short illness, towards the conclusion of his seventy-eighth
year, death closed his mortal career. Notwithstanding his eccentricity,
he was “devoid of guile,” plain and sincere in all transactions, and his
memory is universally respected.--“Peace to his ashes”--(to use his own
expressions,)
“Let all the world say worst they can,
He was an upright, honest man.”