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.
There had been several changes taken place since I left the family at
Oulton Hall in 1835, the mistress having died, and in the following year
the master was borne away, consequently the brother, B. Skepper, Esq.,
before mentioned, agreed with Mrs. Clarke, his sister, to change
residences, the brother having previously, with his family occupied the
smaller house, the “Cottage.” It was at the cottage, by the river side
where I was to be located during the approaching winter, and soon became
initiated in my new duties. The two ponies were old acquaintances, as
also the superiors, but I had to make the acquaintance of the housekeeper
and a furious-looking dog. This was soon accomplished, and we professed
to be a family desirous of serving the Lord, the God of our fathers.
There was another cottage near, occupied by John Adams, his wife, and
family. They were people who for many years had been walking in the ways
of the Lord, and they felt anxious that my hand should strengthened in
this important matter. They belonged to the denomination called
Baptists, exhibiting and illustrating the doctrine of our inability to do
works meet for repentance by reason of Adam’s transgression, we must
first have a good will, which is the gift of God, and then must have
divine grace working in us when we have that goodwill. And these good
works of ours, yea! our very best performances, are taken to go for
nothing in the matter of our salvation. This must be accomplished
entirety by the imputed righteousness of our Saviour Jesus Christ. That
our inability to repent and believe it by reason of that spiritual death
in which we are by nature so fearfully involved.
My superiors were members of the Church of England, and the housekeeper,
although having lived in a clergyman’s family, yet she had been led to
believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and also to receive the ordinance of
baptism by immersion, as the only scriptural mode on a profession of
faith in God’s beloved eternal Son. Here, again, we compared these
sentiments with God’s word, searched the Scriptures daily, whether things
were so; many of these truths, which before had been obscured by
blindness and prejudice were now like beacons shining brightly in a dark
place. We, one and all, under the teaching, the comforting, the
illuminating, and instructing power and guidance of the Holy Spirit went
on our way rejoicing.
Mr. Charles Fisher, rector of the parish, having died in the early part
of this year, a new rector Edwin Proctor Dennis, came to reside in
Oulton, but as there was no rectory house suitable, a new house was,
after a little time built, and it was also arranged there should be two
services at the church instead of one, as formerly. We usually attended
those services at least three of the four, one staying at home for a
little protection to the house, and on Sabbath evenings we drove off to
Lowestoft—superiors to St. Peter’s, while the servants were allowed to go
to the Baptist Chapel, and to be down with the carriage in time service
was over. This was the general routine: occasionally we posted off to
St. Peter’s, on a Sunday morning, but not often.