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Early Life.—A Memorable Flood.—Early Education.—Anecdotes About my Grandfather, William Brown.—Repartee.—Turning the Tables.—A Sacrifice.—Quaker and Prayer Book.—Gigs.—Coaches.—Children’s Punishments.—Medical Incidents.—Going to Huntingdon Grammar School.—Boys Who Played the Tyrant.—News by Coach.—A Courageous Act.—School Discipline.—Second Period at Huntingdon Grammar School.—Burking.
I was born at Houghton, near Huntingdon, in the house formerly occupied by my grandfather, William Brown, and at my birth by my parents, Potto and Mary Brown, on the ninth of April, 1823.
This year, 1823, was locally remarkable as being the year of the Great Flood in November following my birth. The water had been rising for some days, and on the Saturday a number of men were engaged to strengthen the bank between Wyton and Bank’s End. Arrangements had been made that if the bank broke, the church bell was to be tolled to warn the inhabitants; about midnight on Saturday the bank did break, {8} the escaping water flooding nearly all the houses, in my father’s to the top bar of the grate in the dining room, where it remained for several days. It was a strange sight for my eyes to look upon; my father, being Overseer of the Poor, had to take the cottagers dinners to and from the bakehouse on a large wagon horse. Some people went about in boats.
Mrs. Biden, who kept a Ladies’ Boarding School in the old house on the “Green,” would not believe that the bank would break, and did not remove her furniture and carpets upstairs, and, therefore, she suffered considerable damage.
An amusing incident occurred in connection with the flood; Mr. Joseph Goodman—my father’s partner, who was then unmarried, and was a lodger at my father’s, and who slept in the attic, was in the habit of throwing his linen over the banisters into the front hall on a Sunday morning to be aired by the servants—pitched it over as usual, forgetting the flood until he heard it go splash in the water.
I learnt to read and spell under the tuition of my aunt, Olivia Brown, my father’s youngest sister, who resided at that time with her parents, William and Elizabeth Brown, in the house on Houghton Hill, which at that time belonged to Thomas Seekings, of St. Ives, as also the adjoining wind mill. He was a member of the “Society of Friends,” as were my grand-parents and parents. I remember the old man well, {9} and can recollect that he wore bright shoe buckles to fasten his shoes. He also had a son named George, who used to come to the mill with the miller’s cart, and used to crack his whip at me, and was the terror of my life.
I used to stay with my grand-parents and aunt to receive instruction, and while there learnt to both read and spell. I judge it cannot have been a difficulty with me to learn the rudiments, because I have no recollection of acquiring the two arts named.
After my grandfather became blind, he would sometimes be accompanied to meetings by his servant, “Mary Mayfield,” who, when at home, would often sing hymns to him; at a missionary meeting at the Congregational Chapel, St. Ives (Rev. J. K. Holland, minister)—at the close of the meeting—he wished a particular hymn sung, and attempted several times to start the tune himself, but not succeeding because his throat was rough, he exclaimed, “I can’t sing; I have the ‘scrawnches.’” Then, turning to his servant, he said, “Poll, you start the tune.” She, being too abashed, was silent, when he exclaimed again, much to the discomfiture of the maid and amusement of the audience, “Poll, why don’t you start the tune?”
My grandfather was humorous and quick at repartee. On one occasion, on going into the ball of St. Paul’s, London, the custodian, noticing by his costume that he was a {10} Quaker, said, “You will never go so near heaven again.” My grandfather quickly replied, “Not in thy company, friend.” On another occasion a fast young farmer was showing my grandfather a sample of wheat with a great many wild oats in it. My grandfather said he would not buy it in consequence. The young man had just bought a new dressing machine, and retorted, in an off-hand way, “I will pass it through my dressing machine, which will soon take the wild oats out.” My grandfather said, “Friend, thee had better pass thyself through thy own machine.” On another occasion—my grandfather was always accompanied by a dog—Thomas Seekings said to him, “William Brown, I cannot think how thee can like to have a great dog go about with thee wherever thee goes.” The retort came, “Thomas Seekings, I cannot think how thee can like to go about everywhere without having a great dog go about with thee.”
On another occasion he was in the commercial room of the White Hart Hotel, Wisbech. It appears it was contrary to the rules of the room to take a dog in or play at cards. The said great dog was spread out full length on the hearthrug. Presently one of the card players espied it, and rang the bell. When the waiter came the gentleman said to him, “Take that dog out.” The waiter did not relish the job, so he looked at the dog and then at my grandfather, who at once told the dog to go. When {11} the gentlemen had settled down to their game again my grandfather rang the bell, and when the waiter came, said, “Waiter, take those cards out.” The gentlemen had not only the good taste not to resent it, but to reply, “We stand corrected, sir.”
On another occasion the following circumstances occurred, to understand which I must say my grandfather was a great smoker, and he had a meerschaum pipe with a very large bowl, and wherever he went he was always smoking this great pipe. One day, on the stones in the High Street, St. Ives, he reprimanded a man who was a great drinker, and said, “You make a god of your mug.” The man quickly retorted, “You make a god of your pipe.” My grandfather immediately threw his meerschaum pipe down on the stones, and smashed it to pieces, and abandoned the habit of smoking. I suppose old smokers would know that required force of character to do.
Another singular circumstance, especially at that period, remembering he was a Quaker, was he used to carry a Church of England Prayer Book about with him in his pocket. He was one day on the coach running between Cambridge and London, and a gentleman, seeing by his costume that he was a Quaker, began to quarrel with my grandfather, saying, “You Quakers quarrel with the Prayer Book, and yet you have never read it.” He let him fall into a trap by saying, “Friend, have thee read Barclay’s Apology for the Quakers?” The gentleman {12} said, “No; I don’t want to.” My grandfather, pulling the Prayer Book out of his pocket, said, “I always read a collect out of this every day of my life, and thee have found fault with the Quakers for knowing nothing about them.” I remember my grandfather teaching me a collect from the Prayer Book.
At this period, say about 1832, omnibuses were quite new in London, the lowest fare being sixpence. The only cabs were gigs on two wheels, to hold two passengers, the driver sitting on a seat overhanging the wheel on the right hand side.
To obtain a light you had a tinder-box, which was filled with tinder, made from charred linen. Then you held a piece of steel in one hand, and struck a piece of flint, which was held in the other hand, holding the flint over the tinder-box, so that the sparks might fall on the tinder and light it. Then you had a long match, which had previously been dipped in brimstone, and, applying it to the ignited tinder, you obtained a light. In 1896 it is difficult to realise there were no lucifer matches in 1832.
Coaches, 1830. This was just before the railways, and so many coaches ran through Huntingdon that one saddler is said to have made a good living by restoring lashes to the coachmen’s whips, which had come off en route.
Concerning punishments of children, I remember once my grandfather was going to give an exhibition with a little magic lan-{13}tern, which I was forbidden to be at for some trivial naughtiness. I thought then the punishment was out of all proportion to the offence, and the fact that I have recollected it for more than 65 years proves that it was so.
My grandfather kept a small boy as groom, who slept in the house. In his bedroom was a large box, which he was strictly forbidden to open. One night his curiosity got the mastery over him, when he was terribly alarmed to find the box contained a human skeleton.
My grandfather used to draw teeth for the villagers, and on one occasion a man came to the house to have a tooth drawn. He had a very large mouth, and, upon his opening it very wide, my grandfather,who was naturally very facetious, exclaimed, “Friend, thee need not open thy mouth so wide; I am going to stand outside to draw it.” The man’s name was Richard Leech; I knew him well.
I judge that I ceased to be taught by my aunt and went to Huntingdon Grammar School at about six years of age. My father took me himself and said to the master, Mr. John Fell, “I place my son unreservedly into your hands, to do with him as you think proper.” I remember the first thing my Master did was to produce a New Testament and turn to the first chapter of St. John’s Gospel and get me to read a few verses to put me through my paces, with which he seemed satisfied.
{14} A few days after my arrival, a small boy, named Pooley, came, and, being my age and size, the old housekeeper, by name Blewitt, got us both together and said, “You two boys must be good friends, because you are of the same size.” The other boys took a different view, saying, “You two boys must fight to see who is master, because you are of the same size.”
This school at this time had about 100 boys in it, of ages ranging from 6 to 17. I might say here it was a bad plan to send small boys to mix with much older ones, because of the tyranny practised by the big boys. One illustration: One amusement was to pile a lot of coals on the fire, put on the blower, and, when the fire was very bright, place a boy back to the fire and half-roast him.
Another incident, more harmless, but very annoying when frequently repeated, was in the bedroom for a big boy to wait until a little boy was asleep, whom they knew slept with his mouth open, and then to run a tallow candle into his mouth—when they knew he would shut his mouth and set his teeth into the candle. I was frequently experimented upon in this way.
I remember when at this school being awakened to be told the coach had arrived from London bringing the news of the death of George IV. (1830); also the death of William IV. (1837).
I recollect the news coming from London that the Reform Bill had been passed by the Lords (1832).
{15} A Radical butcher in the town got a ladder and scaled All Saints’ Church tower and placed the Liberal flag (blue) on it. Mr. Fell sent his servant to go and take it down. He returned and said he could not, as the man had drawn the ladder up on the tower after him. One cannot realise now the courage it required to do such a thing then, in the Tory town of Huntingdon.
The Grammar Schoolroom then consisted of two rooms—one above and one below. The smaller boys were taught in the upper room by a junior usher (there were four masters altogether). When we could not say our lessons we were sent down by a monitor into the lower room to be caned by the headmaster. Sometimes we would file in in a string of about a dozen. The chastisement consisted of each boy, one after the other, having to hold out his hand and receive about eight severe strokes on it; then a severe caning on the back.
I may say here that there was no teaching given or explanation of the lesson by the masters. If it were a Latin translation, and we failed to construe an intricate passage, we had no remedy, no assistance, but were caned as just described.
It was most unjust and unwise so to treat any boys. As far as I can remember, while in the upper room, I did my lessons neither better nor worse than my school fellows.
One day a monitor told the usher that some boy had been talking in school. At {16} the time I was busy learning my lesson, when I received an unexpected box on the ear, upon which the monitor said, “It was not Brown, sir, but so-and-so,” the usher having misunderstood the name. The only redress I got was a remark from the usher that the next time I deserved chastisement I should have it remitted because of the above mistake; such was the justice as administered at the Huntingdon Grammar School.
It might not have been unfair if my next deserved punishment were passed over because of the above mistake, but I have no recollection that such was the case.
After taking a prize at Christmas in the upstairs school, I was, after the holidays, advanced into a higher class, which was the junior one in the downstairs school. My troubles now began, troubles which rendered my life for the next two years almost unbearable. After events proved that I was promoted into a class in which the Latin author the class had to translate into English was beyond my powers. Therefore, as no assistance was given by the master, I was turned back, when heard again was flogged upon the second failure and kept in school during the play hours. It was also the custom to give us a column of dictionary to learn by heart, in which some word occurred that we did not know the meaning of. By this process it was possible to get into debt several lessons in going up to say one. To cut this matter short, for the last two years of my school life at this school, I was con-{17}fined in the school all the time, never being in the playground. I expect this was about from ten years of age to 12, when my misery was cut short by my removal to another school.
My punishment was not exceptional. The present Professor Foster, of Cambridge, son of Mr. Foster, surgeon, of Huntingdon, was once flogged so severely that he fainted. Afterwards when he was flogged he would say, “I feel faint; I must complain to my father again,” and so his correction was mitigated. Only yesterday (the 17th December. 1895, in conversation,) Mr. Goggs, stationer, Huntingdon, referred to the severity at that time of the chastisements, as does also a farmer of Wistow, named Dorrington.
After events, I consider, proved that the cause of my being unable to learn my lessons rested with the master and not with myself.
Before leaving this subject I must mention another difficulty we had in saying our lessons, even if we knew them fairly well. The master had a raised desk, ascended by two steps. When the class went up to translate he came out of this desk, went up the two steps outside, with his back against it, the class formed a semi-circle, and he stood with a long bamboo cane in his hand, ready to bring it across the shoulders of the first one who made a trip. Having one eye on the cane, and the other on the book, did not help one to construe a difficult sentence.
{18} Another favourite way of helping us to construe was to get hold of a small piece of a boy’s back hair and give what he called a “lugging.” To such an extent was this done that I had two bald places on my head, which my friends at home at first thought was ringworm.
I thought then, I think now, that my father was remiss in not knowing what was going on and remedying it.
About 1830 to 1832. Owing to the difficulty doctors had in obtaining subjects for dissection, persons could get a large price for bodies; consequently, graves in churchyards were frequently being robbed, the robbers going by the name of “body-snatchers.” Then two people, of the name of Burke and Hare, took to killing people, the process being, if they met a person in a dark street, to put a pitch plaster over the mouth and nose of the victim, which effectually prevented any cries for help. This practice gave rise to the name of “Burking.”