words so; but I need not have laughed, for I never had any peace there
afterwards; and as we were all Londoners, we soon after had a few days’
holiday each; and when they returned, they brought word that a cook,
who had married from my mistress, wished to leave her husband and come
back to her again; but the master said I was a very good servant, and
she had better not part with me; but being resolved about it, she
contrived to aggravate me till I gave her warning. I inquired about
Staines, but did not hear of any place; and I had the sorry prospect
of having to pay my own expenses to London, and employment to seek
afterwards. My time was nearly up, when it seemed that Providence
interfered in my favour; for a lady and gentleman from Epsom came there
on a visit, which they had never done before; and when I retired for
the night, the housemaid, who slept with me, on coming into the room,
said that she had a proposal to make to me from my mistress, which was,
that the visitors were going to part with their cook and housemaid, and
keep one thorough servant, and the stable lad to come and assist in the
house; they would give me the same wages I had, and if I suited raise
me two guineas a-year: my present master would send me and my luggage
to Kingston, and they would send the chaise there to take me to Epsom.
It will be easily thought that I was delighted; and in the morning it
was settled in a few minutes, and I was to go to my place in a week;
and most sincerely did I thank Almighty God, who, it seemed, as one
door was preparing to shut upon me, opened another.
I went to Epsom the 4th of May, 1812, and never had so agreeable a
change: they were very pleasant people to live with, and I gave them
great satisfaction and did their work with pleasure. My mistress used
to purchase fruit and vegetables at a market garden near, and she
often sent me there; and in a short time the son commenced courting
me, and I listened favourably. He soon proposed marriage, but at the
same he should wish me to remain in my place for some time afterwards.
To this I did not object, as he said it was on account of his brother
and parents; and as he went to London with the market-cart every week,
he one time put up the banns, at Shoreditch church, and after that
gave some hints that we were as good as married. But I had once heard,
when waiting at tea, one of the curates of Lambeth say to a lady he
was conversing with, that “putting up the banns” was often made the
instrument of seduction. This I had not forgot. I used, if I liked, to
go out every other Sunday, and my suitor asked me to go with him to
pay the ground-rent, a few miles off, which he said would be a very
pleasant walk. So it was; but part of it lay through a wood, by a
lonely footpath. I requested him, as evening was coming on, and it was
so dismal, to come back the roadway; but he declined, saying it was a
great way round.
We were kindly treated at the house we went to, and after tea set off
on our return. I think it was in about the middle of the wood, when he
began talking about a man who had been lately executed for an outrage
on a female, and asked if I did not think it very hard, and whether I
could have the heart to swear a man’s life away. I became dreadfully
alarmed, and, letting go of his arm, which I held, I stepped boldly
in front of him, and said, “Ask me no such questions, for I will not
answer them;” and I hurried forward, saying it was time I was at home.
He seemed rather confused, and was silent for some time; and then
muttered something about meaning to marry me; and I was thinking that I
would never go walking again without knowing what sort of road I had to
go.
Soon after this, my master and mistress removed into the Hackney Road;
but that seemed no obstacle to the young man’s coming to see me, as he
used to call when he came to the London markets, though not so often
as at Epsom. I now began to consider what I ought to have thought of
before. I had, during our acquaintance, observed many symptoms of an
envious and covetous temper—not towards myself, for he had been very
liberal in bringing me a great many things; but in his conduct to, and
his opinions of, others; indeed, he seemed to me to wish nobody to
prosper but himself; and as I had no property, if I became his wife, he
might not use me well.
After a good deal of thinking about it, I wrote to him, saying I
thought we were of very opposite tempers, and that I was afraid we
should not live very happily together; and if he was agreeable to break
off our acquaintance, I thought it would be for our mutual benefit. I
wrote in the mildest terms I could use, and resolved to be governed by
his answer. It soon came, and, by the contents, had been written in a
violent passion; for he said he would compel me to fulfil my promise,
whether I liked it or not, for he would come and tell my master and
mistress all about it, and get me turned away without a character, and
then I should be glad to have him; and then see if he would not make me
repent.
This was showing his cloven foot with a vengeance, and decided me at
once. There being nobody at home but my mistress and myself, I ran
up stairs with the letter open in my hand, and asked her to look at
it, which she did, and then observed, that he would make a very harsh
husband. When my master came home, she showed it to him; and they told
me to let him know he might come to them as soon as he pleased, but
that they should take no notice of anything he said: at the same time,
I assured him I should have nothing more to say to him. When we left
Epsom, the servant lad was parted with, and a girl kept instead: the
lad was a native of Epsom; and he got him to come to try and persuade
me to look over the letter affair; but I declined making it up, and
thus the matter ended.
In a few months after, my mistress intended to part with the girl and
keep only one servant, and I declined stopping by myself. By this time,
my father’s aunt Margaret had become very old and infirm, and it was a
long way from Hackney to Brompton, where she had lived for many years;
and I thought if I could get nearer to her, it would be a comfort to
us both. I was not actuated by expecting anything from her, as she
subsisted on an annuity, which would drop at her decease. My mistress
wishing to send me with a message to a friend of hers at Chelsea, I was
to have the rest of the day to myself, to look after a place I did not
begin to inquire till I got into the City Road, and I made up my mind
that if I heard of any that went back, I would not go after them; but
what went towards Chelsea I would. I went into many shops and heard of
many cooks’ places, and, I think, went after nine or ten, but did not
engage with any; there was either something that I did not suit them,
or they did not suit me. At a shop in Knightsbridge, I was directed to
a doctor’s in Great Sloane Street, in want of a cook; and just as I
was about to ring the bell, a cheesemonger came up the area steps; he
whispered to me, “Are you coming after the place?”
I said, “Yes.”
“Then you can do as you like,” said he, “but you may as well live with
old Nick as come here; for they have had four cooks in three months.”
With this hint I walked on; and as it was near dark, I thought I would
go on my errand, which lay at the farther end of the King’s Road, and
seek no farther that night; but just as I had made this resolution, I
came to a greengrocer’s shop, and said to myself, “I will inquire here
for the last time.” The shopkeeper said he did not know of a cook’s
place; and I had turned round to come away, when he said if I would
stop till he had blowed up his fire (for it was dreadfully cold) he
should, perhaps, recollect who it was that had asked for one. In a few
minutes he remembered, and it was at a clergyman’s, in a large national
institution, which I shall call Fairy Land; it being inhabited, at that
time, by above twelve hundred soldiers’ children, their officers, and
attendants. I went and saw the lady, and thought her the most engaging
person I had ever seen: she asked me many questions, all of which I
answered to her apparent satisfaction; and she took my address, as she
said she had seen others, and could not come to a decision just then.
In a few days after, I received a letter from her, saying, she had
forgotten what I had said, and requesting me to answer her letter soon,
and state all I had said at our interview. This I did to the best of
my ability, and she expressed herself satisfied in a letter she wrote
to my mistress, whom I had lived with a year and nine months, for my
character, and it was answered highly in my favour; and I made sure
that it was so far settled, and expected a notice when to go: but
in a few days, just after a postman’s knock, I was summoned to the
parlour, and informed that my master had received a letter from the
gentleman whose family I had lived in at Staines, saying that a person
at Chelsea had written to him to know if a young woman named Mary Ann
Ashford had lived in their service—for I had mentioned it to the lady
when she asked me where I had lived previously to living at Hackney,
and likewise that her letter expressed a suspicion that we were a set
of impostors altogether, and that Mrs. R. and himself thought it very
unladylike conduct indeed, and they would recommend me to go to Mrs.
R.’s mother, who just then wanted a servant, and hers was a very good
place. But it so happened that she was a lady I did not at all like,
and I had taken a great fancy to the Chelsea lady; so for all what my
master and mistress said, I set off without delay for Chelsea, and
told the lady she had better have come herself, or sent some one for
my character, instead of writing, as my mistress was to be seen at any
time she chose to appoint. This she however declined, and we agreed
that I was to go to her on the same day that I quitted the Hackney
Road, which I did on the 12th of February, 1814, and entered Fairy
Land gate with about nine pounds in money, and a good stock of useful
clothes in my possession; for I was never given to fine dressing.
When I had been there a few days, I thought I should have been
stupified; every thing throughout the building was military, and there
was such a continual noise and drumming everywhere from morning till
night, that I thought when a month had passed I would request the
lady to give me the character she had with me, and let me go. But by
that time I had become in some degree used to it, and I thought I
would stop a year; for they were kind people, who did a great deal of
good amongst the poor persons in the neighbourhood. I liked them very
much indeed, and likewise their three fine little boys, the eldest of
whom, a sensible good tempered little fellow of five years old, was
soon my especial favourite. When the year was up I had not the least
inclination to leave; but when I had been there about a year and a
half, my employers were about to keep two female servants instead of
three, and as the housemaid to whom I was much attached was to leave,
and there was to be many fresh regulations, I said I would leave
likewise, and I went to live at Edgeware. But I had not been there many
weeks, when I received a letter from the nurse to say that my late
mistress had got a cook who did not suit her at all, and if I was not
suited in my place, and had any inclination to come back again, she was
certain I might. In the meantime I had found out that it was the rule
of the family I was in to go to a watering place on the continent in
the summer—let the house, and discharge the servants. I thought this
a good opportunity, as Edgeware was not at all a likely place to hear
of situations; and as many changes were made for my accommodation, I
went back to Fairy Land and made myself quite contented, and became
thoroughly attached to the whole family. I went with them at different
times to many places in the country, and during the time I was away
once, my aunt Margaret died without a will, and what little she had was
divided amongst eleven persons, five of whom she had never seen. But I
had the pleasant reflection that, for the last few years of her life,
protracted to extreme old age, I returned in some degree her kindness
to me in early youth; and as I never expected anything from her, I was
not disappointed.
In August, 1817, my master went abroad, and my mistress, with a Mrs.
M., went to Brighton for a month, taking me with them. This lady had
six children, a young lady companion and two nurses, with the servant
lad, my own mistress and two of her boys, making altogether fifteen in
family. The whole of the domestic work was done by me and the lad, as
the nurses were fully occupied with the children; and very heavy work
it was, as we were in a good-sized house on the West Cliff. I have
often wondered how I managed to do it, and I was very glad to get home
again. When we had returned a few days, my mistress went to visit her
brother at Sunning Hill; she took the children with her, and parted
from me in the kindest manner imaginable, telling me that, if I liked,
I might go out for a day or two. I availed myself of her offer, and on
my return received from the servant lad a letter of that day’s post, of
which the following is a copy:——
_“Sunning Hill, Sep. 20th, 1817._
“DEAR ANN,
“I have lately heard that a servant whom it has long been my
intention to engage if ever I heard she was out of place, is
disengaged, and I lose no time in begging that you will look out for a
new situation. She will not come to me till your month is up, but if
you should hear of anything in the meantime, do not let that prevent
your taking a situation, as the cook can come at any time; only give me
a few days’ notice, that I may write to her directly, and tell her when
to go, as she is ready at a day’s notice.
I sincerely wish that you may find a comfortable situation; if I hear
of anything likely to suit you I will inform you, but I am not likely
to do so here. We arrived here safe, just as they were sitting down to
dinner; I found little Henry very well, and very glad to see us. George
has delivered your messages to him. Beg Tipson to take the shoes, as
soon as they are finished, to the Gloucester Coffee-House, where Moses
Puddle, the carrier, calls every other day, as they must be booked. He
will put Charles’ great coat, and the cross-bow, which was left in the
passage, I think, into the parcel. If Mrs. M. has anything to send, put
it in with the other things. Give the bit of writing on the other side
to Mrs. M.
“I am your sincere friend,
“CLARA C———.”
I think I never felt more grieved and surprised in my life, than when
I had read this letter, beginning “dear Ann,” and ending “your sincere
friend.” I was now near thirty years old, seventeen years of that time
I had spent in service, and never had warning given to me before; and
if I had served one mistress better than another, it was my present
one. I read it over many times, and was utterly confounded. Had I been
accused of any fault, I might have apologised or cleared myself, as the
case might be; but I had now no alternative but to do as I was bid,
and get another place. This I set about; but I was so dispirited, that
when I went after other places and was asked the usual question why
I had left, or was going to leave my place, I could not refrain from
tears as I related that all I knew of it was, to make way for another.
The boys of the Institution made their own clothing and shoes under
the instruction and superintendence of sergeant tradesmen, who were
allowed the privilege of working on their own account if they had any
spare time; and as the sergeant shoemaker worked for the whole family
except my mistress, and he was considered a fair-dealing man, he had
made and mended my shoes for two or three years. But I very seldom
saw him, as I used to send by the lad who often went to him on other
business. This person’s wife had died some time before, and I had heard
say that he was either married again, or going to be. The young man my
fellow-servant, had been brought up in the Institution, and apprenticed
to my master as a house-servant; and when I went there three years
and a half before, he was quite a little fellow, and his parents were
abroad; and as I had been a sort of mother to him, he seemed much
grieved at my leaving.
When I had about a fortnight to stop, I gave him a pair of boots, and
asked him to take them to the shoemaker, and tell him to put a good
strong pair of heels to them, for I was going to seek my fortune. It
seems he told a dismal tale about my mistress turning me away, and a
day or two after he said the master shoemaker wanted to speak to me
the first time I went that way. I asked him if he knew what for, but
he did not; and it occurred to me that he might want some linen made
or mended, as his wife was a long time ill before she died, and as
I passed his door the next morning, I went in. He was preparing his
dinner, and had a saucepan in one hand and pepper-box in the other. I
said that the lad had told me he wanted to speak with me—about some
work I supposed; but I was very busy, as my time was short, and I had a
great many damsons to preserve, and other things to do before I left;
but, if he was not afraid to trust me, I was going to a friend’s and
could take it with me and do it there. He hummed and ah’d a little,
and then said it was of another business that he wished to speak to
me; the truth was, that if I had a mind to marry, and would have him,
he would have me. I was much surprised, and said, that I was taken
so unawares that I could say nothing to it just then. He then asked
me to give him an answer as soon as I could, and if I should consent
it would be no use for me to think of getting another place, and we
had better be married as soon as possible. I agreed to decide by the
next evening, and took the matter into serious consideration, and I
resolved to accept the old soldier’s offer; and when he called the next
night, as agreed on, he seemed much rejoiced, but said that he had
put so much pepper into his saucepan the day before, while talking to
me, that he had spoiled his dinner. We settled that he should get the
serjeant-tailor’s wife to go to the parish clerk of Chelsea old church
and put up the banns; and when the time of out-asking was up, that our
marriage should take place, and that in the meantime I would go to my
old friend, Mrs. Bond’s, when my warning was up, till the time came.
But I cannot omit a rather curious circumstance which happened to me
just at that time. A day or two before I left Brighton, the undernurse
of the lady I spoke of, who was with us at Brighton, came to me and
said she was informed that two inside places had been taken in a
Brighton coach for the young lady companion and one of the Miss M.’s.;
and it was found afterwards that it was to run much faster than had
ever been known before; and the ladies were afraid to go by it; and it
was proposed, that instead of their going by it she and I were to go
by it as outside passengers, and as she had no notion of risking her
neck (our lives being as dear to us as theirs to them), if I would make
a stand to keep the places as they were, she would do the same; so we
both declared, that sooner than go outside we would pay the extra fare
ourselves. This offer was not accepted, and no alteration was made at
the booking-office.
It was a four-inside coach, and our fellow-travellers were a very
respectable Quaker gentleman and his mother. They were very affable
indeed during the journey, and the lady said she should like very much
to look over the Institution we lived in; and we told her, that if she
would come to Chelsea, we would show her all about it, as they said
they lived at Hammersmith, which was not far from it.
The coach stopped on the road for the passengers who liked to dine; but
we had some refreshments with us, and declined the pressing invitations
of the gentleman to take dinner, although he said it should be no
expense to either of us.
My companion asked me if I did not think he had taken a great fancy to
me. I said, what nonsense it was to think so; just as if people could
not be civil without being in love; and reminded her that he invited
her, as well as me, to partake of the dinner.
On arriving at Ludgate Hill we left the coach, and wished our
fellow-traveller good day; and the gentleman said to me—
“Good day to thee—but I am not gone yet.”
This I thought nothing of; but one day in the week that I had been
asked in church on the Sunday before for the first time, the Quaker and
his sister, with one of his mother’s servants, who was a Chelsea girl,
to show them the way, came to see me. As soon as I saw them, I thought
of Martha’s words, and took the first opportunity of saying that I was
going to be married in a few weeks. To this he said—
“Is it so indeed? I thought to have had thee myself. Art thou too far
engaged to retract?”
I told him I was, and would not break my word upon any account,
unless my intended husband gave me some just cause. He seemed very
much disappointed; and his sister said, that her brother Isaac never
thought of being refused, as he could provide so much better for me
than I could expect from my station in life. He was very well-looking,
and about my own age. It really seemed to me a very odd thing. I got
the lad to show them over the building, to whom they behaved very
liberally, and, wishing me health and happiness, took their leave.
A few days after I left, and returned to Chelsea, and was married on
the 3rd of November, 1817, at Chelsea old church. On that evening the
Princess Charlotte of Wales was seized with the pangs which caused her
death, and never was lady more lamented. The only persons who went to
church with us were the master tailor and his wife; and thirteen years
after, that person became my second husband.
My marriage had been so sudden that I had not time to make the
inquiries and arrangements usual in such a case; and I was agreeably
surprised, as it had been a venture on both sides, to find my husband
in better circumstances than I expected.
It appears, that some years before, he and his wife had placed some
money in the Funds, and he expected to be sent abroad at the time. It
was put in their joint names, and in order that she might take the
dividend without him, her name was placed first, which prevented him
from taking it without her. This he did not like at all, so he kept
what he had by him, and had a considerable sum which she had never
known of. I had, likewise, a little property—some that I had saved,
and some that I had left me by a deceased relative. We acted fair
and candid towards each other; and an old gentleman, who came from
the same place as he did, in the neighbourhood, put it into the Bank
for us, in our joint names. I likewise found he was much approved of
in his situation by his officers, who were, at that time, all very
good gentlemen; but he was dreadfully afflicted with rheumatic gout,
which made a naturally hasty temper doubly irritable; and his business
was very worrying, for it was no easy matter to keep nearly thirteen
hundred children in shoes, and the boys in caps, with the help of one,
or sometimes two journeymen.
The children were divided into companies, each having its sergeant,
who had to deliver the work to him, and take it back; and as such
quantities could never have been managed without the greatest
regularity, it brought him, unavoidably, into frequent squabbles with
the company’s sergeants; though, to say the truth, they mostly came off
second best, for though he was very rough, he generally had truth and
justice on his side. But it made me think—“Dear me! I have rejected
Isaac and taken Ishmael.”
I must mention, that my late mistress was, on all occasions, extremely
kind to me, and the person for whom she had dismissed me fell ill as
soon as the family came home, and as she was obliged to work she left
in a few weeks.
In July, 1818, my husband had a heavy attack of his complaint; and in
August, I expected to be confined. One day in the early part of that
month, my mistress came to me, and said that the Hon. Mrs. Spencer
Percival had gone to the north of England, and had left the money to
pay for her yearly subscription with Mr. M., who was the head doctor
to the institution, the Brownlow Street Lying-in Hospital; and he had
to give her letter of admission to any one he thought proper; and Mrs.
M. and she had considered that as I had but one apartment, and that
dreadfully noisy, from being only divided by a small passage from the
workshop—my husband, likewise, being very poorly—that it would be much
better for me to go: there, as I should be far better accommodated
than I could possibly be at home, if I chose to avail myself of the
offer. I expressed myself very much obliged to her, and she desired me
to consult my husband, saying she would call again the next day, which
she did, bringing the letter with her. It was on Thursday; and the
next day, Friday, being the one on which the weekly committee sat, I
was obliged to take it, that it might go through the necessary forms,
previous to my admission.