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.”
During the autumn of the past year Mr. Robertson and his tenant built
sheds and piggeries adjoining my dwelling. I stated my disapproval
thereof, and requested that a course of bricks should be put up, as
nothing short of that would keep me quiet, as rats from his side had
found their way under the floor of my bedroom. He did not meet my views,
and I thereupon told Mr. Robertson I should take down my wall and it
would be placed twenty-one inches from his line of boundary; and so it
came to pass for on the 29th of April, 1879, I proceeded to take down the
wall and built another more substantial, and now the rats are kept back
from troubling on my side, and having raised my roof and made chambers
over, I have not regretted the inflexibility of my neighbour, for
although he has fixed boarding to intercept my view on that side, yet
there is plenty of light and air from the other, and the additional
conveniences more than compensate for the outlay, and thus we see working
for good many things that at a first glance wears a very unfavourable
aspect. My dear wife has fallen into a state of affliction, and is being
attended by Mr. Smith, of Carlton. She is able to get about, but almost
shattered by a dreadful wrecking cough, her niece came to attend upon
her, but it soon became evident that her end was approaching as the
medicines and applications had but little effect. Early on Sunday
morning the 3rd of August, a dreadful thunderstorm came on; being greatly
alarmed I sprang up in sleep and asked the poor sufferer what was it that
had fallen down, she replied that nothing had fallen but that it was a
sharp tempest. It proved to be indeed severe, the Church at Wells, in
Norfolk, was struck and wrecked at the same time. She lived exactly four
weeks after that event, lingering on until the morning of Sunday, the
31st of August, at half-past four o’clock, when she breathed her last,
having been married forty years and ten months, twenty-seven years of
which she had been mistress of the village school, which office she
relinquished when the newly-established board school came into operation,
in May of the preceding year. Another of my neighbours, Hannah Patrick,
died suddenly two days after my wife, her husband, William, surviving her
about six months, when he also died and was brought from London and
buried. On the 6th of January, 1880, two other of my aged neighbours
were called away: Richard Rowe, many years station master here, and John
Pinkney who lived and died near the church, where his body now rests.
Another visitation befel the town of Wells, a terrible gale occurred on
the 29th of October, the lifeboat had gone off to the attempted rescue of
a vessel in distress, that boat capsized and nearly all its occupants
were drowned, beside a great many others who were cut off by the violence
of the storm, among the latter was one whom we called Captain Hiles, whom
I had many times met in the house of prayer, when he was ashore, and on
the last Sabbath of his life was engaged in exhorting sinners and warning
them to fly to Jesus for pardon and salvation.
The few weeks with which the past year closed were remarkably mild, and
sometimes pleasant gentleness marked the passing year. The year 1881 was
ushered in mild, and we were beginning to think that the time for sharp
weather was getting past for the season, when lo! on the 18th of January,
a violent gale from the east with almost blinding snow set in during the
evening, the intensity of the frost was almost unparalleled, almost to
freeze the blood in the veins of those who were exposed to its fury.
Deplorable was the destruction and loss of life on the Eastern coast; at
Yarmouth the lifeboat was capsized, and nearly all her brave men drowned,
together with a shipwrecked sailor whom they had taken off from a
stranded vessel. The visitation will be long and sorrowfully remembered
by the inhabitants of Yarmouth and its vicinity. Before the month had
passed away and while many embankments of snow continued even after the
thaw had set in, another of my neighbours, George Bullen, the eldest son
of David, is called to his rest, on the 26th of January. He had been
many months afflicted, and during his long illness many prayers were
offered to the Lord on his behalf, that he might obtain pardon and peace
and lively hope through our Lord Jesus Christ, which we believe was
realized.
During the second month of this year, 1881, the elder Mrs. Wright who had
resided in Oulton more than thirty years, died on the 13th of February,
at the advanced age of 86 years. During the third month of this year,
the elder Mrs. Susan Farman died, on the 9th day of March, aged 79 years,
having resided in Oulton fifty years. “The Lord’s portion is his
people.”
During the fourth month another of my elder neighbours was called away,
Francis Harper, having resided in Oulton about forty years, a quiet,
good, honest, and honourable man; served his generation by the will of
God, fell on sleep March the 15th. Another neighbour, Mrs. Elizabeth
Reynolds, wife of Thomas, who with her husband were the only unbroken
pair that were living as paired when I was married, all the other pairs
were broken or swept away. Mrs. Reynolds died on the 2nd of April, aged
76 years.
Next, here is a record of an honourable marriage, which is worthy of
note, April 7th, at the Congregational Chapel, Beccles, by the Pastor, J.
Calvert, assisted by S. B. Driver, pastor of the Congregational Chapel,
Lowestoft, Mr. M. Hinde, of Lowestoft, to Louisa, daughter of the late
James Read, farmer and valuer of Laxfield, Suffolk.
The Earl of Beaconsfield, a distinguished statesman, who had filled the
high and honourable office of Prime Minister of England, and confidential
adviser of Her Majesty, died in London, April 19th, at the age of 75
years, a large profusion of flowers being dropt upon his tomb.
Appendix.
IN the year 1877, the Pakefield Friendly Society came to an end, having
fought its way fifty-two years, and having survived the Vicar of
Lowestoft fourteen years. Mr. Cunningham had from the first taken a deep
interest in that institution, and greatly contributed to its prosperity.