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Home > Family History > Leeds Area > Harewood > The Notices > Pages 91 to 100
"The Notices of the Stables Family"
by William Stables (1794-1862)
| Page 91 | them. She had been brought up
in a farm house, and was very lively and active in her movements, so that she was prepared for making a clever farmer's wife, and having spent several years with her brother in the city, her manners and port and whole demeanor were much superior to what is usually found in our villages. On March 25th, 1817 my sister Ann and I rode down from York to visit my grandmother and the family, but I think we stayed only one night. In Feby. 1628 after the decease of my' mother) I again visited than, and from, my grandmother received a very considerable proportion of the matter contained in these notices of the family. My mother was daughter of John Dunn and Ann his first wife, and I was born at Swinefleet Novr. 2nd 1766. In lea* than three months she had lost her mother by death, a loss which in her early life she had much cause to deplore. "Not long after her birth, "Grandfather had to leave his farm, and with his infant daughter retired again to his father's house, he residing also in Swinefleet. His mother, I believe, was dead, so that the principal care of the little girl devolved on her aunts (afterwards Mrs. Laverack and Middlebrook), tut they often complained of the weight of their charge, and to say, "She is always wanting something." by which they used so to wound Grandfather's feelings that at length, when she was about three years of age, he determined to take her to her maternal grandmother, then Mrs. Barnett, a widow at Belton, about a mile from Epworth, in Lincolnshire. There not being any school of any note in Belton, as soon as my mother was old enough to to backwards and forwards, she used to attend a day school at Epworth, (See note A, page 136). She used to take her dinners to the house of a Mrs. Kilham, a widow. This Mrs. Kilham was the mother of Revd. Alexander Kilham, who afterwards made so much stir in the Methodist Society, and was the chief in founding the "New Connection" With her grandmother, Mrs. Barnett, she remained until she was about thirteen years of age, when Grandfather brought her home, in order to get her to some other school of more eminence. She then went to Mr. Thomas Cordukes' in Petergate, York, where she remained somewhere between one and two years, attending some superior school. Thus she went on, until Grandfather took Miss Cordukes home with him, his second wife, and my mother went with her, having, as it appears, ended her scholastic life. She continued with her parents at Barlby Hall, for about five years, when Mr. Thomas Cordukes having been much pestered with some very idling housekeepers since his sister's marriage, and Nancy being now about twenty years of age, he presented a request that she might be allowed to reside with him, in order to superintend his domestic concerns. He engaging to take great care of her, which he accordingly did, introducing her into much respectable society, by associating with which, she became a little more refined in her manners, behaviour and appearance, than is coalmen in the ordinary run of farmers' daughters. With him she again remained from one to two years, when a report reaching the ears of Grandfather's family, that both Mr. Cordukes himself, and also his brother William, who was a farmer at Sheriff-Hutton, were paying very particular attentions to Nancy, on hearing this, she was immediately fetched home, and all that business fell to the ground. |
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| Page 92 | Her stepmother describes
my mother in her youth, as being of a very modest and unassuming disposition, very thoughtful and retired in her habits, and of such an amiable disposition generally, that she strove to please every one, and would not willingly offend any one. She was very fond of a book, and employed her leisure hours in the storing of her mind with knowledge, and especially sought knowledge at that best of sources, the Holy Bible. grandfather had a very ancient Quarto Bible, more than two hundred years old, printed in the ancient British letter, usually called Black Print. This she could read with the greatest facility. In 1828 I was favoured with a sight of this valuable piece of antiquity, and was informed that it was the one in which my mother in her youth used frequently-to search after God. This at once explained the reason why, all her life, she preferred reading the Scriptures in a Quarto copy of Black Print belonging to my father and his ancestors. When she was a girl, her father used her to read much to him, and among other things she had generally to read part of the weekly newspaper to him, and as he took much pains in correcting her pronunciation and laying on the emphasis, so by the practice she attained to an ability for reading aloud which is possessed by very few. Very early in life she was the subject of powerful religious impressions, so much so, that she united herself to the Methodist Society, at what exact time that took place I cannot ascertain.. But I have seen an old class paper, beginning with April 22nd, 1781, on which her name appears as a regular member, and stands near the top, as though she was a member of some standing, though at that time she was little more than fourteen years of age. Ever accustomed to attend the public worship of God, she now began to perform from choice, which she had done from parental injunction. But being often debased when at home with her parents at Barlby Hall, through the distance, the River, and the numerous engagements of the young family, she the more enjoyed her enlarged privilege when she again went to Yorke this would be when she was about twenty years of age. A text book which she kept, and which I have seen, about that time, fully shown how diligently she attended the House of God, and there received instruction at the lips of several of the most eminent of the first race of Methodist preachers. Among them we notice such names as Rutherford, Mather, Brackenbur; March 4, 1788, Dr. Coke; on Matthew, 6.33. June 23rd, Monday, Mr. John Wesley Romans 13, 11-12- 13. Tuesday morning 24th Dite. Hebrews 2,1, 25th Wed, night Mark 4,3, 26th Thursday morning Dite Psalms 146,45. When she was about twenty-one years of age, she was brought to a more determined attention to her soul's concerns, and to seek for the poss- ession of that experimental religion which enables its possessors to say, "My Lord and my God". The events which were conducive to this important attainment were a little remarkable. On being about to leave the house to go on some errand, or to some meeting, her father requested her, as she returned, to call and enquire after the health of one of their neighbours, who was dangerously ill. On calling, she was invited into the room of the sick man. While she remained there, the eon of the dying man in reference to his parent said, "Will angel bands convey their brother to the bar?" |
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| Page 93 | To which the old man replied,
with terror in his looks, No, Devils will, drag my soul away to meet its sentence there." These awful words, so emphatically expressed by a dying man, so powerfully affected her that she was led seriously to examine her own religious state, and to reflect on the doom she herself might hear, if she were called to her account ere she experienced a saving change of heart. By this circumstance she was roused from her previous state of comparitive lethargy of soul, and now in earnest sought redemption in the blood of Jesus; and in honour of her great High Priest, she was heard and answered, and was soon after enabled to rejoice in her sin-pardoning God, being assured that her name was written in the Iamb's Book of Life. The witness of the Spirit, the internal evidence of her acceptance, was she described, quite clear, decisive and satisfactory. On her informing her classmates of the joyous circumstance, Grandmother privately enquired of her, how she came by the blessing, when she informed her (what her modesty had prevented her from more publicly avowing) that it was by the application of a portion of sacred Scriptures, contained in God's promise to Abraham, and is recorded Gen. 12,2. "I will make of thee a great nation." From this time she held on the noiseless tenor of her way, ever opposed to anything like an ostentatious display; she nevertheless was far removed from anything like indecision of character, and from this time to the day of her death, distinctly showed by her deportment that she had not in vain believed. It was at the instigation and recommendation of my Uncle Richard Burdsall, who had no doubt often seen and admired her, during the time she was with Mr. Cordukes, that my father first became acquained with her, and it was by him that Father was introduced into the family. It was on a Sunday forenoon that they arrived at Barlby Hail, Uncle having taken the liberty of bringing his friend with him. They were invited to dine. By looks, words or somehow, it became whispered in the family, that his friend was come for the purpose of having a look at Nancy. And this, with her very modest disposition, was to her not a little embarrasing. After dinner they were about to start off the preaching at Selby, but 'when Nancy was enquired for, Grandmother found that she had been gone sometime, having slipped away immediately after dinner, in order to avoid their friends' company. After the Chapel service closed, she took away to the house of some friend in Selby, where she remained a while, so long as she thought the family would have been considerably in advance of her. But fearing to be found fault with, for being absent from home too long, she set out as soon as she thought her object accomplished. Uncle Burdsall, however, having a numerous acquaintance, the family had called with him, and after remaining some time, they were accompanied to Grandfather's by seven or eight of them to tea. And just when they came to the Ferry, they beheld Nancy before them, nearly over the Ferry, so that they had to wait until the boat returned, and she thus got a fair start of them. After tea, the young men staid with them until it was time for Uncle and Father to move. Uncle turning to Father, said, "We can stay all night if you please." Father, however, thought they had better return. Accordingly they prepared to move. The young men, however, thought they would accompany Uncle Burdsall a short distance. When the horses were brought out, Uncle mounted first, and moved off accompanied by his |
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| Page 94 | friends. Father, however, being
last, turned off aside to let his horse drink at a pond near the house. The horse probably drank rather long, - at least until the party had left him. Father then embraced the opportunity, with which his wit had furnished him, and though he had scarce seen my mother, he returned to the house, asked for Grand-father, and of him got permission to repeat his visit, for the special purpose of making proposals to Nancy. Not meeting with any repulse from Grandfather, he vent again, and managed to procure not only a sight, but a hearing also with mother, and an acquaintance was commenced. But after some time, Father complained to Grandmother, that she was so shy, he could not get her to talk and knew not what to make of her, and the connection seemed almost broken off. Father, however, could not rest-her image was often before his minds eye, and he at last came to the resolution to go another time. He, however, went under the influence of excited feelings. From the circumstance of my mother having been with Mr. Cordukes, some of my father's friends had spilled it out that she had been his servant, and on that account they rallied and joked and scolded my father not a little, at his being about to marry a servant. Under such excitement, he went in a great duster, (as grandmother described it) to know if she had not been a servant. And to such a degree was his pride nettled that he declared that if she had, he would have no more to do with her. Grandmother, however, undertook to give an explanation of circumstances, and after father had taken some refreshment, he and she walked out together into the orchard, up and down which they walked together, perhaps fifty times. Father asked unnumbered questions, which Grand-mother answered honestly. Father was in some sort satisfied, but said, "If she would only talk like ye, I could make something of her," And one time, "Ha, ha, ha, hear ye, if anybody see us, they'll say, I am courting you." After this lengthy explanation, Father renewed his suit with fresh vigour, usually going on Tuesday evening, after he had finished his market business at Leeds, and remained one or two nights, according to circumstances. On one occasion, he vent with a hare bleeding in his hands, laughing heartily, saying it was worried in the way just before him, and as he could see no body coming to take it up, he thought that he had a providential right to it. On another occasion, he went in the evening. It was a meeting night. Grandfather had gone to the meeting. It was the churning night. Grandmother was busy with the kitchen business. Mother had to nurse the young child, and talk to Father in the room. While things were thus situated, the room chimney got on fire, and blazed out very much into the room. The alarm was given, Grandmother was in a dreadful pucker; as for Father, he got Mother and the young child into his arms, and there held them, as if to preserve them from danger, laughing at the same time most heartily, but making no effort to subdue the fire; at which Grandmother was much astonished, and thought he could hardly be "compos mantes". The same night, their servant girl had her sweetheart, whom she afterwards married, and the servant man went and sat up with her, who afterwards became his wife, so that business at that time was very brisk. |
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| Page 95 | After some time, although
Father had complained that she would not talk, it became evident that they were getting to understand each other. Before, however, my mother gave him any positive answer, she went, at her father's request, to Belton, to consult her grandmother on the business, who gave her this information on the subject. "Marry whom thou wilt, thou'll have sorrow, but there are two sorts of sorrow, fat and lean, but fat sorrow is better than lean sorrow. As to living comfortably with a husband, I have had three husbands, and could live happily with them, and I think I could with almost any man; and so mayest thou. Try to make them happy, and thou wilt be happy thyself." After receiving such advise, she returned home and consented to be married. After mature deliberation, and a courtship of somewhere about twelve months continuance, with the entire consent of her friends, the business was brought to a close, and they were united in the bonds of matrimony on Sunday Augst. 30th, 1789. The ceremony was performed in Hemingbrough Church, - Barlby being in the parish, - The minister was the Revd. J. Thompson, and took place in the presence of Grandfather and Grandmother, and Uncle and Aunt Burdsall, father being in the 33rd and mother in the 23rd year of their ages. After bearing her first or second child, she was very much afflicted with bad breasts. From them she suffered more than a martyrdom, and to such a distressing pitch did the inflammation and putrification arise, that her medical attendants announced it to her as their opinion, that nothing more could be done for her, but to take off one of the entire breasts. To this she was very loath to submit, and resolved to endure her pains a little longer, are she underwent such a distressing operation. In the interim, she was informed of some woman, who was famous for the cure of bad breasts. She was sent for, undertook the business, and succeeded so far at least that an operation was rendered unnessary. But from that time, one breast forever failed of its milky secretions. My mother had a numberous family, all single births, viz; i, Mary! 2. Ann; 3. Elizabeth; 4, William; 5. Ann (the 2nd) 6. John; 7. Hannah; 8. Samual; 9. Penelope; 10. Christiana; 11. Jane. Two of them, viz., Ann the first and Christiana died in their infancy. Three of them, viz., Samuel, Penelope and Christiana, were in their infancy much afflicted with some kind of inward convulsion fits, of which Christiana died, when she was about three months old. There were, to a mother of her sensitivity and tenderness, times of acute trial and distress, Often have I stood near her when my little brother Samuel was writhing on her knees, and I have seen the great big tears rolling down her cheeks in rapid succession. It being the opinion of her medical attendant that the fits of her children were occasioned by some peculiarity in her milk, she never let her last child, my sister Jane, partake of the delicious fluid, She was brought up entirely by the spoon, and never had any of their fits, which had been so distressing to the three which had preceded her. My mother was favoured with an excellent constitution, both of mind and body. There are few minds more active and vigourous than |
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| Page 96 | was hers, There are few bodies
that enjoy such good general health, and having her children in such rapid succession, she found abundant exercise from one and the other. I do not remember her ever to have had any serious boodily indisposition, except her confinements in child-bed, from which she did not always recover very rapidly. After a residence of more than twelve years at Sandygate, near Harewood, at which place she had contracted several religious intimacies to whom she was much attached. Among these I have often heard her mention with respect, Mrs. Norfolk of Harewood Mills, Dame Malloni of Dun-Keswick, and Mrs. Dickenson of Harewood. From these, however, she was, in the order of Providence, called to part. and after taking an affectionate leave of them (scarcely expecting to see them again on earth) she removed with the young children to Linnington in November 1801, I have lately (1828) seen among her preserved Society Tickets. one bearing date Septr, 1801, marked on the back, "The last I received at Harewood," and another dated Decr. 1801. similarly marked with "The first I received at Linnington," given by Mr. Dixon. Although my dear Mother was exempted from much bodily affliction, yet her exercises of mind, during the days of her pilgrimage, arising from a variety of sources, were not few, and especially during the later part of it. Within a few of the last years of her life, she had to resign four of her children, who in the bloom of youth. or vigour of their days, were brought by slowly wasting disease, to the house appointed for all living. In each case, however, she had the unspeakable satisfaction of reflecting that they died in the faith, and were only removed a little before, to a better country, that is an Heavenly. My sister Ann, especially, had a long and wasting affliction, her bones cutting through her skin some weeks before her death, and mother said that not any of her children had any sufferings at all to be compared with Ann's. And Sister Jane in one of her letters describes the closing scene as being one she could never forget. For she never beheld my mother display the mother and the Christian so fully. standing out in juxtaposition, as on that occasion. It was on May 9th, 1822, when she was 26 years of age. She had been dying all day, and Mather had been sitting by her, and generally on the bedside, having scarcely left her all day, and in the evening when she had breathed her last, when she saw the Spirit was fled, she arose from her seat and standing over the remains, with raised and clasped hands, and face turned upwards, the tears rolling rapidly down, she repeated the two first verses of the 725th him, Happy soul, thy days are ended, All thy mourning days below, Go, by angel guards attended To the sight of Jesus. Got Waiting to receive the spirit, Lot The Saviour stands above, Shows the purchase of his merit, Reaches out the crown of love. |
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| Page 97 | Another source of much
uneasiness, was the great contrast there was in the disposition of my Father and Mother. He (especially in the decline of life) was careful, narrow, contracted, anxious, no doubt to leave his family in good circumstances. On the other hand, my mother was liberal and generous, disposed to relieve the wants, and gratify the wishes of those around her. I have no doubt, but both erred. Both dispositions were a little in the extreme; but it probably caused my father to hold his purse strings a little tighter, than in other circumstances he might have done, Perhaps in this, too, he was a little emboldened to act Lordly and tyrannically, because nearly the whole of their large property had come to his family. My mother, on her marriage, received some bed-quilts, china, and other little things (to procure which for her, she said her stepmother exerted herself much). She also received 100 pounds as her wedding portion, and 50 pounds more after the decease of her father, which was all the fortune she ever had. About this, my father was sometimes a little cross; for though he never expected much fortune, yet he used to say, that grandfather always said, that he intended to make his children all alike. Whereas, when his will was produced, he had left much more to his daughters by his second marriage than to my mother, the blame of which my father laid on my grandmother, with whom, for several years, he was very shy, though lately they have got tolerable friends (1828) Another source of much uneasiness and sorrow to her was the severity and harshness with which my father treated his children generally, especially my sister Mary (who had married contrary to his injunctions), my brother John for sometime before his death, and now for several years my brother Samuel. My father always kept us at a great distance, which, when were children, might have done tolerably well, but unhappily, when grown to the estate of men and women, he too much treated us as still children. On the other hand, as we became men and women, my mother could treat us as such, could talk to us familiarly, and perhaps was induced to do so the more by my father's severity, especially in the case of brother Samuel. On this score, they. had much unpleasantness, and I have heard my father say since Mother's death, that they had had more words about Samuel, than about anything since their marriage, On Monday, Feby. 26th, 1827, my dear mother was as well as ever she was in her life. Mrs. Hartas, the wife of Thomas Hartas, a respectable farmer of the Quaker persuasion, a woman of eminent piety, had taken tea with my mother, and they had spent a most agreeable afternoon together (vide Mrs. H.) in conversation and social intercourse. After a rather early tea, she accompanied Mrs. H. a short distance on her way home. After her return. she was with Father, in the kind of back kitchen by them usually termed the shade. They had been engaged about something, but for a moment father had gone out of the door. On his return, he found her laid on the floor, in a state of insensibility, having in that short period been seized by and fallen under the influence of a fit of apoplexy. She was immediately conveyed to bed, and medical aid sent for. For two or three days she took no tice of anything, nor ever was able to speak again. After that she recovered a little, |
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| Page 98 | and hopes were entertained of
her recovery. She could answer questions by "Yes" or "No". On March 1st she was quite sensible, and on being asked if she were in pain, she faintly answered, "No". One present asked her if she was happy in God. She answered, "Yes". On the 2nd she seemed to be revived a little, and was able to call her children by their names, and on being asked if she could still put her confidence in God, she said, "0 yes". On the 3rd she inquired for her son Samuel. When he approached her bedside, she said, "Samuel will get to Heaven." On it being observed that all her children would try to follow her. she replied with emphasis, "God grant you all may." On Sunday 4th, she talked a little. In answer to questions from Sister Elisabeth, she expressed herself as happy in the enjoyment of God, and on one occasion added, "It seems hard to suffer so, but it is all right, for the Lord knows what is best for us." During the time she was able to speak, her attendants often observed her engaged with God in prayer, and when one said, "There remaineth a rest for the people of God." she replied, "There does. There shall I rest from all of my sufferings." After Sunday she said but little, it seeming to give her great pain even to say "Yes" or "No". But when asked if she was happy. she always answered in the affirmative. Her countenance also bespoke the general serenity of her mind. It was evident, however, sometimes she wished to commie cate something to my sisters, but feeling her inability, the tear would involuntarily start into her eye. From the Sunday it was not perceived that she was worse, until about seven o'clock on the evening of Wednesday March 7th. About that time she began to fall off, and gradually and quietly sunk into the arms of Death, just as the clock struck nine on! the evening of Wednesday, March 7th, 1827, after this affliction of J little more than nine days continuance. On her first attack, she completely lost the use of one side, even the teeth were fast locked together, and she took no sustenance during her affliction, but what was conveyed between her teeth in a tea spoon. Two or three days before her departure, she had some medicine administered by her medical attendants (Messrs. Loyd, M.D. and partner of Pickering) which evidently caused her much pain. Her stomach swelled much. She frequently rubbed it gently with the hand she was able to use, and as soon as the medicine began to operate as physic, she died. About half past four o'clock on the evening of Saturday, March 10th, the funeral procession commenced. The corpse was borne from the house by eight of my dear mother's female neighbours, who were all eager to testify their respect for her, by this last kindly office. They, however, had not proceeded far before they were under the necessity of being relieved by their more able associated; of the other sex. who afterwards performed the chief part of the labour, until they approached the parish church; being near half a mile distant from my father's house. The funeral service was read by the vicar, the Revd. Mackereth in rather a careless and mumbling manner. The church was nearly full of females, clothed in garments of deepest hue, consisting of nearly all of that sex in the village and neighbourhood, who were all, without exception. eager to pay the last tribute of respect to departed worth. The |
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| Page 99 | relations attending were my
father and his five children, my wife, Uncles Jonathan and George Dunn, Uncle Cordukes, Cousins John and Mary Lyth, and Mr, and Mrs. Bentley, of Linnington.. In person, my mother was about the middle size. When young, I understand she was a remarkably neat, small, tidy girl. Ever since I can remember, she had been rather lusty and stout, but being small boned, she was ever very nimble and active. Of late years, however, she has shrunk a little. Her countenance was open and her features regular and prepossessing, Indeed, the form and fashion of her countenance was a correct representation of her disposition, which was generous, liberal, and benevolent, ever taking pleasure in relieving the indigent and distressed, according to her limited means. In her demeanour there was a happy mixture of religious experience she was ever afraid of making any lefty pretentious to superior and exalted piety, but far from acting any undecided part. She was ever the same humble, devoted Christian, whoever stumbled or whoever fell. A funeral sermon was preached in the Methodist chapel on occasion of her death by Rev. Watkin, on "Be ye also ready." (See father's letter of April 3rd, 1827) As the mistress of the house, her abilities were of a superior order, always active and industrious, she was accustomed to superintend her domestic concerns in every department in person, and having so numerous a family of children, and generally a great number of agricultural servants and labourers to victual in the house, she had few opportunities, had she been so disposed, to eat the bread of idleness, As a mistress she was accustomed to keep her servants at a respectful distance. She possesed sufficient spirit and firmness to render her authority respected, and yet she was accustomed to treat them with such calmness, kindness, and mildness as uniformly to fain their affections. As a mother,+he attachment and attention to her rising family was unceasing and unremitting. They were early taught to respect her authority and their wills being properly broken in infancy, she had never after-wards any trouble in bringing them to obey her commands. She was remarkably tender and affectionate towards them. and as they grew up to maturity, her authority was gradually withdrawn, not so withdrawn as to lose her influenee over them, but so as not to treat them as children after they were grown to manta and woman's estate. For her children were ever ready to conform to her wishes, and if in the later part of her life, she did err, it was in being too condescending and yielding to her descendants. A short notice of her appeared in the Wesleyan Magazine for 1828 (Shilling No. page 64. |
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| Page 100 | "To the Memory of My Mother,"
by Hrs. Lyth. Friend of my youth, Farewell, awhile; No more I meet the cheerful smile, A welcome 'heath your roof; No more those kind attentions share The watch'd for turns of tender care, That sweet affection spoke. Ah, noway hospitable home The seat of sorrow is become, A want in everyplace; The twilight shows my friend no more, Arise the Saviour to adore, The subject of his grace. No more the starting tear shall flow, At the sad tale of others' woe, By softest pity moved; The hand so ready to supply The widow's wants and infant's cry, In death forever closed. The cheerful feet no more are moved To tread the sacred courts she lov'd, Jehovah's will to know' The attentive ear, the watchful eye, Shrouded in death, in darkness lie, To see and hear no more. The husband views her empty chair, He turns, but Oh, she is not there, To soothe his drooping mind; His eye's desire is at a stroke Remanded and his purpose broke, What solace can he find? Her daughters mourn her wonted care, To aid their wants, their griefs to share, Their youthful minds to steer; In Biography's useful store, Or knowledge that instructions pour Remembrance, still how dear. Her maidens look around and sigh But, Ah! No mistress meets their eye Directions now to give; In silence, see, they move apart To hide the sorrows of their heart, Or thus their woes relieve. Weep not, she's left her cares behind, And find the rest she sought to find, The haven of repose; Behold her where the weary rest, 'Mongst angels, saints and seraphs blest, Where pleasures ever flow. |
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