INTRODUCTORY REMARKS
to his
Notes on Various Occasions
REMINISCENES
- of -
JOHN WILLIAM HALL
3/23/l925 -
I seldom feel inclined to write anything, but occasionally am very spry in
such desires. I feel very generally that what
I write is not worth much. To-day I feel to be recovering from pains and aches not
previously experienced; to-day my right
shoulder complains. I am concluding to
write about what immediately concerns me.
7/17/1924 -
I am beginning to write early recollections, nothing in this for any but the
family, only matters of family interest. x x
What I may write down is what I remember of early days and what was spoken to
me by Father, Aunt Sarah, cousin John Grieve, and lastly my sisters Hannah and Mary.
July 11, 1925 - “I
find I can only write scrappily what turns up at the time. “
“I will now go on with a history
of my own times. If I get through with this I may be able to speak more of my family. After looking through what I have written, I
have an impression that what I write is not of much value and only fit for the waste paper
basket.
Dec. 28, 1928 - recollections spring up at odd
times
The name of Hall is very common in
Northumberland and the history of the County shows that it was over-run by Norsemen and
Danes and was under their dominion for a long period.
The pronunciation of the name of HALL
was more like HAAL. I was very much
astonished at that, and it shows how the country was peopled by Danes. A large family of that name was resident at
Mamborough, Otterburn, Berwick, Embleton and in that district, and one of that name
espoused the cause of the Pretender and lost his life.
Many of them made their way southwards and joined up with the Quaker preachers, and
some became “Public Friends”.
The dalesmen of this part of England
have strong characteristics of their own. The
Cheviot Hills are the feature of the northern part of the County, and the rest of it is
cut up by the Dales running North and South to join the Tyne Little grain is grown in these hill regions, and
the farmers might be described as ‘pastoral’ farmers, many as ‘yeomen’
farming their own land.
There was at one time a
Northumberland Quarterly Meeting which included Newcastle itself and extended as far as
Berwick. But these meetings of the Northumberland dales have long been joined to
Cumberland Quarterly Meeting. Meeting
Houses were built, and still exist, at Alston, Coanwood, and Allendale Town. At the latter place the first building used by
Friends was dated 1600, this was rebuilt in 1753, and the one now standing is the one
which I well remember being put up in 1857. These
three meetings belonged to Allendale Monthly Meeting and their members were almost
exclusive1y farmers.
The earliest record we have of any of
the Halls is of Isaac Hall, who lived at Aske Hall and Hagg House, near Berwick, and
joined Friends in George Fox’s time. He
is reported to have visited the Friends in prisons at Morpeth, Newcastle, Hexham and
Berwick. His two sons Joseph and
Benjamin removed to Allendale from Embleton, near Bamborough Castle. The former was employed by the Allendale
Town Brewery Company to introduce the use of malt in brewing. The latter kept a school on
the Heating House premises, afterwards removing to Manchester and we have no further trade
of him Joseph died in middle age, leaving a son Isaac and a daughter. They lived on a
small farm called Moorgate. The widow
carried on hand-loom weaving for her living, the son when very young began to attend
Brampton, Alston and Allendale Markets to dispose of their goods. From accounts given by his oldest grandson
the young man led a very busy life, farming, attending markets, starting very early in the
morning and working late. He was so
tired when he went to bed that his Mother shaved him as he lay asleep; John Grieve tells
of this. But evidently hard work suited
his constitution, showing that it is not hard work but worry that kills. Eventually he
took up visiting the markets with a horse and cart and sold or carted for other people. Later in life he undertook contracts for Mr.
Beaumont and transported; wood from the shire and Slaley across the fell to Allenheads for
Mr. Beaumont’s lead mines. His
contracts must have been profitable for in due time he was able to buy High Studdon and
moved there to live. At High Studdon
you still may see the water trough which was brought from Moorgate. It measures 6 feet by 3 by 2 and is
hewn out of a solid block of stone. It
is kept full by a little stream of water and to all appearance is as imperishable as the
hills themselves. High Studdon is a farm two miles South of Allendale Town, and stands
1400 feet above sea level. The farm
lands extended from the river Allen to the enclosed lands on the hillside; and there
were two small holdings belonging to it. From High Studdon itself, and from the fells near
it, there is a very magnificent view of the surrounding hills stretching away to
Scotland and the Border heights. The valley
of the South Tyne can be followed with the eye as far east as Newcastle. The nearest town of any size is Hexham, on
which converged, every market day, processions of dales-people who had started from their
homes on the high fells early in the morning and would only get back again in time for
bed.
Cousin Hannah Wilkinson
My grandfather was an only son. His one sister married a Mr. Brown of
Newcastle. My grandfather and father
lost heavily with the Browns. Their
daughter Hannah, after-wards Hannah Wilkinson, who lived in Hexham as a widow to a great
age and died in her 103rd year, was the only satisfactory cousin that Father
had. She told him she wove her own
linen and sheets and bed-tick when she married.
She had only one daughter who died in early life, and her husband did not live to
be old, so she was left a widow for many years.
She joined the Church of England with
her husband. She was very active and well known in Hexham both for her public and private
work. She had many kind interested
friends in her later life. She told me she
had means of her own and also her husband’s fortune left her well cared for. Thinking
she could live without her husband’s money, she divided it out in shares as she
considered best. She called these relatives
together and with the help of her kind friend and solicitor, L.C. Lockhart, gave each
their share, and they all kissed her and said good-bye.
She lived in a quiet little house in Hexham with one servant. My father and all our relatives never missed
calling to see her. One day when I called in
passing through, she remarked on the poor quality of servants now-a-days. “I thought I would engage my niece to live
with me, and do without a servant, but she was just like the rest, a lazy inactive hussy,
so I sent her home.’ “How old
was she, Hannah?” I asked. Her reply was, ‘Why only 75 and as slow as you like. I could not do with her ways any longer.” Thus she confirmed the saying that we are
only as old as we feel. She told me that
Louis Lockhart read the Church prayers to her every Sunday and his sister twice weekly. Accidentally many years after in a train
between York and Thirsk I met a clergyman who told me that he was formerly a curate in
Hexham and when H.W. died the Vicar was from home, and he had felt it a privilege to read
a service over so good a woman.
Isaac Hall 1741-1822
Married Hannah Shield whose family
lived at Sinderhope and previously at Woolley Burnfoot and are relatives of John H. Shield
who now lives at Burnlaw. They had two sons and three daughters, most of these born before
they moved to High Studdon. The children were Hannah, Joseph, Sarah, Isaac, Jane.
Joseph died unmarried at about the
age of 35. He helped his father in the contracts for leading wood, and later was employed
in the grocery business of Daniel’ Oliver (Sen.) of Newcastle. He was once chased by the press-gang, but, being
an athlete, he escaped them and running into a house with the door open, he was safe from
capture. He died of pneumonia from overwork and exposure whilst on a visit to North
Shields. Our father often talked about his elder brother.
The eldest daughter, Hannah, married
John Grieve, a Friend from Cumwinton, Cumberland, who settled on one of the small holdings
on Studdon estate. Having some means of his
own, he simply assisted my father on the High Studdon farm.
Sarah and Isaac lived together always
at High Studdon and Jeanie married George Roddam.
My grandfather was a middle-sized man
of a very active nature and very healthy. He
died in 1822 and left no will. He had
had uninterrupted good health until he was 84 years old, when one day my Father saw some
change and offered to stay near. “No”,
said his father, “go and do your work as you have planned it.” When my Father came back next the old
man had passed away. As the only son he
heired all the house property and farms but thought it right to pay his brothers-in-law
and sister what he considered to be their portion.
It all came back (i.e., the Grieve share) to our family on the death of John and
Thomas Grieve (our cousins) being about £790 to each of my brothers and sisters including
myself. In his business transactions he
always declined to take advantage of the troubles of others, and in making additions to
High Studdon always paid full value for the land he bought.
Isaac Hall 1793-1861
My father was about 28 years of age then his father died and, with
the help of a married man, he farmed High Studdon.
In the cottage at High Studdon lived John Grieve and his two sons Thomas and John;
at the birth of the latter his mother, my Father’s eldest sister Hannah, died. John Grieve ever after engaged housekeepers for
him-self and his two sons who built stone walls all over the farm. The walls to-day show little sign of decay: they are soundly built the stone, sandstone grit,
remains perfectly hard. My father was
clumsy with his hands and had to rely on his head for good management, hence his
brother-in law and his nephew were invaluable, indeed the nephews might have been sons,
and they were so attached to father and all the family.
J. Grieve afterwards bought a farm in West Allen-dale “Black Cleugh”
which he and his own sons carried on. Thomas was interested in all passing events as far
as his surroundings and education permitted; his strong sense of humour, accounted for the
liberality of his views. John was intensely
methodistical and a great supporter of that body. Their affection for our father was very
marked, as boys they were with him on the farm always.
Wigton School was not in existence in their time, my sister Hannah who was 10 years
their junior being the first of the family to be favoured by that great enlightenment for
the children of Cumberland and Scotch Friends.
Uncle John was fond of shooting and grouse was very plentiful so they kept the
larder replenished with the gun - it was a flint gun.
I remember well the old man with his long grey hair growing down his shoulders, and
his giving me half-a-crown when I went off to Wigton School after each vacation.
After my grandfather’s death
John Grieve with his two sons bought Black Cleugh farm in West Allen and they farmed there
until the death of Thomas Grieve when the remaining brother, John, sold out the stock and
let the farm. John removed to High Studdon
to the cottage were he was born, and there he died in his 66th year and was
buried in the Allen dale Friends’ Burial Ground as was also his family.
(The Wedding at Gretna Green is more
interesting when the circumstances are gone into)
Frank Philipson was a miner and a
small tenant farmer; a man of strong character but hasty in temper, a kind father and
thoughtful for his children. He bought
for every child a quart size fancy jug with name and date of birth duly burnt into the
pottery. These are carefully preserved
by the family and my sister Mary has my mother’s jug.
Thinking of my mother this morning,
her mother was a Friend, the family name was Green.
They were dyers at the Peckridding by the Allen Water. One of the family emigrated to the
United States and was a notable minister among Friends.
Frank Philipson married Mary Green and she died at the birth of her only child, my
mother Mary Philipson. Frank Philipson
married again and had a family of 6 daughter and 7 sons with his second wife, so my mother
had many (step) relatives of the name of Philipson.
The sons became lead miners with their father.
My grandmother was old and Aunt Sarah
always in delicate health, so when Aunt Jeanie left home Mary Philipson aged 16 came to
take her place in the family. She was
described as a very bonny girl with bright red cheeks and black hair, and little wonder
that in course of time my father was overcome with the fascination of youthful
loveliness and personality of character, My
grandmothers and aunt were disturbed, and Mary with our father’s consent went to live
with a neighbour at Throstle Farm (a house on the Studdon property just below the
“new road”.) Her father who
lived 5 miles away hearing of this immediately came along in much warmth to take her home. By chance M.P. was in the garden some 700
yards away near the river so a daughter of the house ran to the garden and informed M.P.
who fearing the wrath of her Parent bolted into a wood near by and from it to another dark
fir plantation and made her way up the hill to High Studdon. Communicating her plight to I.H. apparently
she hid amongst the hay in the barn Her
father sought for her in vain and returned home at night.
That night 2 horses were saddled. The
farm man I.H. and Mary P. rode off for Gretna, M.P. riding behind the man. The setting off was not without incident for
my Grandmother in protesting kept back part of the Coat Tail of T.H’s Quaker coat as
a memorial protest. They rode through
the night to Gretna and the couple were married early in the morning. The marriage certificate is a document beautifully
written and inscribed in foolscap partly hand printed.
On the way home my mother rode behind her husband, and on their arrival let it be
said that the whole family were immediately reconciled and lived happily. Mother1s father had sought her
erring daughter without avail, returned to his home miles away and renewed the search on
the second day. But it is said all’s
well that ends well.
My mother was perfectly happy, and
she and Aunt Sarah were truly sisters ever afterwards, living together in the same house
and our Aunt Sarah a second mother to us all.
My Mother was not a Friend, her
Mother having been disowned for marrying Francis Philipson.
When she came home from Gretna Green the Rector of Allendale came to see them and
he insisted on their getting properly married but charged them no fees for the ceremony. My Father agreed that Friends should disown
him for marrying a non-Friend, but said that he and his wife would attend Meeting all the
same. So he was disowned, and afterwards re-instated, and my Mother joined Friends at the
same time.
My Mother had a beautiful face. She was loving yet strict with the children
and excellent in her love of law and order. It
was beautiful to see her attachment to our Aunt Sarah and how they were able to look so
closely after the family.
Mother died as the result of an
accident, in 1853 when I was 11 years old and somehow father never was the same man again;
he lost interest in life and died eight years after in 1861. He and I were greatly attached to each other
and after I left school I only saw him for 13 days every July.
Still all my life was centred in the thought that I must do
nothing in life contrary to his own desires. This I carried out to the letter.
Our Father, Isaac Hall, 1793-l86l
I ought to write something special
about our father. He was a very affectionate father; I never remember an unkind word from
him. Each day as he went over the farm
he liked all the children at liberty to go with him.
We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, often four or more of us were trying to be
helpful, running round among the cattle and sheep.
Although we kept a dog, Father did not care for rousing either sheep or cattle,
which certainly is the case when a dog is sent round barking, and forcing the stock. It was much better to go quietly among them,
counting them or driving them to another pasture. There
was a little hill where four fields met and we could have a good view of the animals in
all directions, also the converging walls gave shelter from any wind that blew, so it was
a good place to sit down on the grass, and father used to teach us to repeat Scripture or
some interesting poetry. Sometimes we
would learn about the plants and the flower2, birds, butter~1ies and all animated
nature, we learned their names and their habits.
Father was strongly built with
powerful hands and arms, and, I might say, legs, for in the hayfield he seemed to do work
equal to two ordinary men. In those
days there were no grass cutters or other modern machinery and the cutting of’ the
grass was done by scythes. The hay
season lasted through July, August and even September and was a trying time. We usually paid three men from Hexhamshire
who would mow 21/2 acres per day. They
were followed by haymakers, Father, Mother and all the children. Aunt Sarah was at home cooking. We spread the swathes, gathered them into cocks,
spread them again in the sun. Then, if
dry, the hay was rowed up, put on sledges and drawn to the barns, turned over to the
forker to fork into the barn to the stack-maker.
The horse with empty sledge made speed back to the field to be filled. When six years old I was tied to the
horse’s back given a stick and reins, and having acquired a knowledge of language
understood by Diamond, the work was at once both engaging and exhilarating, and to those
eventful days my memory is green.
When my grandfather bought High
Studdon the property included the Throstle Farm so that it extended from the Allen to the
fell. My father bought the Holmes Lot
of Mr. Lowe also the Far Lot of someone else. He
let off the Throstle to John Graham the man who accompanied the couple to Gretna
Green. The Hall
children went to school with the young Grahams.
Some sixty years later J.W.H. knocked at the door of William Graham at Sinderhope,
and asked “do you know me?” Without
any hesitation Mr. and Mrs. Graham replied “Why it’s John Willie.’ Come in.”
My father also let a portion of the
property, with house attached, to John Grieve, his brother-in-law, and the family kept the
High Studdon house and farm going for many years without either a man or women servant,
excepting occasionally employing a man for draining or dyking (building walls) at 15/-
per week.
My grandmother inherited a farm at
Sinderhope which she gave to Aunt Sarah. This
farm and also Throstle was exchanged with Mr. Beaumont for land at Low Studdon.
The status of a farmer is little
understood by outsiders. He requires
excellent judgment. In his livestock
he must fully understand what to keep, what to sell and when to sell. He must have an inherent qualification as to
values, and expert knowledge of foods suitable for growth or fattening. He requires a chemical knowledge of soils
and of fertilisers suitable for the various qualities of soil. Then there are weather conditions to meet;
decision of character is needed to act for the best at the psychological moment. Perseverance and patience are most
necessary. It is a common proverb
“If a farmer is to be successful he must marry the dairymaid - a trained wife well
trained is necessary for success.”
My father had a large share of these
qualities. His judgment was excellent, he was
most conscientious in his attention to all his animals and his stock was much sought after
and could always command a good price. He
considered it a waste of time to attend markets unless he had business because it meant
neglecting the farm. He said his duty
lay in close attention to breeding and rearing his animals. It was an entirely pastoral
farm; cattle, sheep and horses were the stock kept.
In dealing and trading he told me he never took advantage of a seller obliged to
sell, but ever gave them the full value.
His father left no will and lawfully
all the land and houses fell to him by inheritance.
However he could not rest but had all valued and engaged to pay his two sisters
(and their husbands) one third each. He
paid them out as he was able from his savings, and after his mother’s death the
family at High Studdon settled down to a life of simplicity and economy.
There was a division of part of the
moors into en closed allotments according to the claims of the various owners of land. My father owning four farms, his share was
considerable and he bought other shares. John
Grieve and his sons put up the enclosing dry walls, strong and extremely well built. My father tried his hand, but was so faddy
and the building got on so slowly that he gave it up.
His wall to-day shows his painstaking method.
They quarried the stone themselves on their own land.
A kiln was built for burning the
mountain limestone The lime was spread over the ling which then died and was followed by
rich grass and clover. Very often the
ground was drained with two inch tiles previous to liming.
To-day in these fields you cannot find a trace of ling but instead valuable feeding
grass and white clover, and the ground will carry nearly double the stock. There was a plan of turning the sheep during
the day on to the moor for a change to eat heather or bent grass. The owners still had shares called
“stints” on unenclosed moors.
These stints could be bought or sold and each allowed the owner pasturage for 5
sheep on the moor.
My father had not opportunity for
much education; his only schoolmaster was the vicar of Allendale who later performed the
church marriage ceremony.
He was entirely in agreement with the
principles of the Society of Friends, and read all the early journals of Friends that he
could lay his hands on. In dress and
use of plain language he was very particular: his
sister and my mother wore Friends’ bonnets, and his daughter’s bonnets were
neatness itself and perfectly plain Father
did not approve of the disagreement common in that that amongst Wilburites and Gurneyites: what he approved was the fellowship of worship
with or without utterance.
When my father was a young man he
went to Newcastle, about 35 miles, with two others.
In returning they called at a public house and had a glass of ale before they got
out of the town. Further on his
companions got two glasses additional and as it was hot, the alcohol took effect on them
and they both lay down by the roadside, helpless, and went to sleep. My father was so struck by the incident,
that, when he reached home, he turned out all alcoholics and refused ever after to drink
or “treat” anyone else. In
his necessities to make use of inns for business he always paid the landlady generously
for the accommodation required. Thus he
became an abstainer years before Temperance Societies arose; and the fact that both his
father’s and mother’s relatives were given to consuming alcohol (indeed it was
then rum) only strengthened his determination to neither take it himself nor allow it in
the house.
As a Liberal, my grandfather actively
supported the party at elections, and my father used to tell stories of his early
adventures in politics. When an
election came on his father used to say, “Now, Isaac, get the galloway (Dales pony
from 14 to 15 hands, very hardy and high spirited animals) saddled and be off; come back
when all is over.” These yeoman farmers, numbering seldom less than 500 horsemen
rode as escort to Mr. Beaumont. As they
rode along from town to village, and village to town, they took possession of every
public house, and turned them into committee rooms.
These journeys were a great success. Every
body was roused by this well-equipped bodyguard of supporters, with blue flags flying,
and brass bands playing with deep sounding drums.
My father relates how he was with Mr. Beaumont and his agent Mr. Crawhall after his
successful campaign. Mr. Beaumont was
completely floored then he found the total cost was £100,000 and said it would be his
ruin. Mr. Crawhall replied gaily
“Cheer up, Mr. Beaumont, last year we made £100,000 out of the Allendale lead mines.
You have only spent one year’s income and you have won the election”.
My father had at least two severe
illnesses, each time inflammation of the lungs.
He got an eye much dam-aged by a cow’s horn and was some time at Newcastle
Infirmary.
Between J.W.H. and his father there
was a very intimate friendship, and he felt it deeply when in l86l his father died while
he was at Sunderland and had no word that his father was ill.
Aunt Sarah 1790-1860
Aunt Sarah was born at High Studdon
in 1790 (or 1788?) and father in 1793: they
lived through the whole of the 22 years French war.
After the peace in 1815 intoxication became rife, as at the conclusion of the
Franco-German war everyone began to smoke.
From a child Sarah Hall was the light
of the house and the special favourite of her father.
Wherever she moved her presence was always felt.
After my father’s marriage she continued to live at High Studdon and was much
beloved by her nephews and nieces. The
parlour had been built on to the house and this and the bedroom above she claimed as her
own. My mother and she were great
friends I never remember my father
being anything but kind to his children and we all loved him but Aunt Sarah was an
indulgent aunt and apt to spoil us. She
had a wonderful recipe for ginger snaps which were used as bribes or otherwise as
required.
Aunt Sarah kept the house lively
although she reckoned to be delicate and got her breakfast in bed strong Coffee, an egg and hot buttered
toast. Mother was the centre of law and
order in the house, and she and Aunt Sarah were delightful together. My Aunt Sarah was clever and good looking
and a very attractive personality from every point of view, and had a wide circle of
friends. She used sometimes to ride to
Newcastle, through Hexham, to pay them visits. I hardly like to say she was a flirt but
she certainly was an attraction to aspiring young men.
She inherited a little property from her mother, which no doubt added to the
attraction. She had a host of admirers,
and received twelve offers of marriage but remained single.
I think her natural attractiveness and desire to be sociable must have led the
young men to expect better treatment than they got. I remember stories about some of her
suitors. One of them said: “I have come a long time to see thee Sarah. She
only replied “Well, I never asked thee to”
A second retired without incident. A third was accepted and the wedding was
arranged, but at the last moment she backed out. Yet another was accepted and the wedding
day was approaching when her father said to her “I don’t know Sarah but that we
may see thee keeping a little shop and baking tea-cakes for sale”. “I never will
bake tea-cakes for anybody” she raged, and
no wedding took place. Again - ‘”That
little bowdiekite actually asked me to get married to him as we walked through the
plantation. But I said “Have
I lived so long to be married to a little
bowdiekite like thee” . Her eleven nephews and nieces at High Studdon had
good reason to rejoice over her steadfastness; and
her cheerfulness and humour ever kept our house a home to be remembered
My aunt was fond of horses and took
many journeys on horseback, visiting relatives at Newcastle, attending Quarterly Meeting
at Carlisle and Cockermouth and Monthly Meetings.
She refused to ride in a conveyance or train, her safe way of travel was on
horseback, A story is told how on one
occasion she set off to Q.M. wearing a complete outfit of new clothes, every single thing
new. She was lifted on to the horse so
that her new boots might remain unsoiled and set off along the told road which comes into Allendale town down a very
steep bank called Lonkley. The road was muddy
and slippery at this steep place; the horse
could not keep its feet but fell, throwing the rider and her new clothes down into the
mire. In complete disgust, she mounted
the horse and rode home again - no Q.M. for her that time.
She was attractive at home as well as
among the Quaker young men, and kept the whole house alive so that it was interesting to
all comers. There was a perpetual
controversy between her and her brother - my Father.
She had a theory that she suffered from several ailments; her brother on the
contrary used to say that there was never any illness in the Dale until the Scotch doctors
made their appearance. She bargained with the
doctor to pay him £10 a year to feel her pulse every Saturday, and look at her tongue,
and keep her constantly supplied with medicine.
It was fortunate that she was usually content with only smelling the bottles. She
never encouraged anybody else to be ill. The
listening children enjoyed these doctors’ visits very much, especially as the doctor
was the nicest man, a quack doctor. “I
see, Madam”, he said on one occasion, “that you will probably die at
the rise of the sap, but if not, then certainly at the fall of the leaf. So I will say good-bye to you”. She lived several years longer than
any of her brothers and sisters.
Aunt Sarah was the first person in
the Dale to be the proud owner of an umbrella.
Whether she used it is questionable, for the story goes that when a shower came
on, she hid the umbrella under her cloak to keep it dry, or possibly she felt shy of
making herself a spectacle.
Allendale Mining
The length of the Dale is about ten
miles from Allen heads on the south to Catton on the north, and at that time it was
thickly populated quite unlike the present time. Lead mining was extensive and very
prosperous, and houses were scattered everywhere.
High Studdon had 3 miners families, Low Studdon 6, West Studdon 2, Scotch Hall 10
families, Sinderhope 18 families. The
Beaumont family owned all the land in the neighbourhood, as well as the mines, and they
cut up their estate into small holdings for the miners.
Working four days a week, or even only three, a miner was an old man at fifty, the
work was so unhealthy. So his little
farm occupied him the remaining time. The
miners stood in water up to their knees more often than not, and the mines were
ill-ventilated. A complaint of the
breathing was very common. Boys began
at the age of ten to wash the ore outside the mine. I
remember going to see the ore being washed. The
boys called me “the little Quaker” for
I never said 1”Monday” but
“Second Day” and used “thee” and
“thou”. The boys with whom I
went to school were sons of miners for the most part.
The miners would keep two or three
cows on their land and usually each family had a fell pony.
Every family in April or May cut peats on the fell, each about 18 inches long and 4
inches thick, enough for about fifty cart, loads They were left to dry and in July, August
or September, the men would lead then home and pack them in large stacks. Coals were
little known in the district in the early days, so the miners had considerable occupation
in leading twelve months supply. They
were allowed to cut their peats for nothing on the moors, and these ponies of theirs were
often called “peat leaders”.
The Primitive Methodists were very
strong in the district and quite a number of chapels were erected. The miners were distinctly religious, and betting
and gambling were unknown. Several
fairs were held through the year and these were a great opportunity for friendly
greetings, also for a display of horsemanship with these spirited “galloways”
or mountain ponies there was furious
riding and all manner of sports. As
these ponies lived on the fells and went in droves, it was not uncommon to borrow without
leave a neighbour’s horse and ride off to the fair before the rightful
owner had reached the fell. Mountebanks
and all manner of sights could be met with and a good deal of treating and drinking was
everywhere apparent. To-day these fairs
are things of the past. At Christmas
they had much feasting and had “toffee joins” at each other’s
houses. Toffee was made from, say, one
stone of black treacle and some butter, and when cooked everyone had a share.
These mines were very productive
yielding Wentworth Blackett Beaumont £100,000 per annum.
I went to the day school when I was six years old - viz. in 1848. At that time Mr Sopwith, the mining agent
for Mr. Beaumont, brought young Wentworth to visit the school and introduced him to the
children as 17 years of age. Last week the son of this seventeen-year-old died aged
63 bearing the title of Lord Allendale. His
father was described as the wealthiest commoner in England and used to say he could walk
thirty miles in a straight direction without stepping off his own land.
The mines now employ only forty or
fifty men. The rest are scattered, the
county of Durham getting a large number. Many
went out to Australia to the gold mining there, including several of Frank
Philipson’s sons, step-uncles to the High Studdon family. Probably the men went first and their wives
and children followed. One little boy
called Harland Philipson ran away and hid when his family were ready to start, not wishing
to leave Allendale. In later years he
corresponded with J~W.H. and sent a Photograph of his family, and soon after the war
brought over two of his boys, Ralph and Thompson, whom we were glad to know. They were total abstainers and non-smokers,
neither swearing nor gambling: they carried
their convictions into the army and returned to their home pure, and untarnished by the
temptations placed in their way.
At the time of King George’s
coronation, Sarah Ann Richardson nee Philipson was over from Australia, a charming and
beautiful woman; a niece of my mother. She
told me that there were 75 of her father’s relatives, a clan of Philipsons out in
Queensland; that they were all Methodists and
total abstainers and not one had disgraced the family. Some are poor, some are wealthy,
and one is a millionaire. Many are taking a useful part in public and church life in the
township of Charters Towers, Queensland.
Some Early Recollections
I was born on Jan. 26th,
1842. The day was to be remembered all
over the north of England and Scotland as one of the heaviest snowstorms on record. The doctor -Armstrong by name - who attended
my birth rode on horseback and found the greatest difficulty in reaching High Studdon
and was utterly benumbed with cold on arrival. In meeting George Collings of Carlisle many
years after and comparing notes of ages, he informed me that he was born in Carlisle at
the time of a terrible snowstorm on Jan. 26th, 1842!
Doctors were of recent introduction
into Allendale in these days; my father used
to say he had no recollection of illness in the Dale until two competing Scotch doctors
arrived on the scene and then pains and aches began to multiply.
My earliest recollection was the
death of my next sister Sarah at 6 mos. Old.
I remember seeing Marmaduke Forest in his hat, carrying a box out of a room
in our house, which I knew was a coffin containing the remains of my young sister. My second remembrance was lying bed with 12
black leeches on my chest, a perfect horror to me.
I had inflammation of the lungs and judging from the effects in after years in
getting rid of the poisons I had imbibed makes me feel I must have inherited a strong
constitution. At the time of my
illness hay harvest was in full swing. I
was so ill that the family gave me up and mother and sister Hannah made me - by the
evening - a burial robe, but in the middle of the afternoon my father left the hay and
walked to see the doctor bringing back a medicine which he said would either kill or cure;
it was two or three years before I threw off the effects of that medicine.
As a family flannel was little worn
and not until I had been at Wigton three years were my parents asked to send me flannel
vests.
I was ever a prattler and when very
young I became more and more a talker, and also learned quite a lot of poetry each year. Negro slavery was the great theme of
conversation and I could repeat no end of Negro hymns.
My mother took great interest in babies and I went with her on her numerous visits
to farm houses to see how the mother and child fared, my talkativeness made me ever
welcome. Mother was extremely active and executive.
When I went with mother visiting round the district, afternoon teas and girdle
cakes with currants had a special interest to me.
As mentioned before I was taught
negro slave rhymes which I have never forgotten discanting on the little nigger boy
“bathing in the river like a brisk water rat and at night sleeping soundly on a
little piece of mat”. “But there
came some wicked men who stole him far away, they took him from his house and home and his
mother dear” etc. I could repeat whole lines of such: - lisping in my speech, trying
to be eloquent in rhyme and repeating with pathos.
From S.A.Haydock’s recollections of life at High Studdon from
a letter dated Oct. 19, 1923 to J.W.H.
I am trying to see how I can help in
thy early recollections. Really I
remember very little of mother really nothing worth while, previous to her death. I do remember well thy (J.W.H.) being very
late in coming home from school one day and mother became very anxious and then she and
the 3 of us younger sisters, myself, Maggie, and Susie, made our way down the fields to
the Throstle (the farm house let off with 5 fields) to see if thou was with the Graham
boys, and sure enough we found thee there with a beautiful bunch of wild flowers which
thou said thou had picked for Sarah Ann. Of
course I was immensely pleased but dear mother far otherwise, she ordered thee home at
once and we followed. Mother supplied
herself with a birch rod which she used very freely ~to our sad grief) as soon as we got
home. Dear father was so patient, I
never remember a harsh word, how we children loved him and how we never wished to grieve
him, we followed him everywhere to the high Allotments to look after the cattle and sheep,
to the fells for peats with old Diamond the mare, and to the lower fells for rushes. No children were happier. On first days it was a great joy to go to
Meeting. I can recall sitting by dear
mother and see the tears slowly trickling down her cheeks and wondering why.
We loved every bit of ground at High
Studdon and to-day I love (in my imagination) to go all about through all the fields and
“lots” as we used to do and over Holmes Bank with dear Aunt Sarah for a walk by
the old quarries, and sitting down where we could watch the Sinderhope folks come out of
the chapel. I just love to go over all
that - to me - sacred ground, for I seem to recall every part so clearly. Very few of our
old dales people remain I should think. I never loved any place so dearly all my life. I have enjoyed going to Meeting all my
life and realise the great privilege in so doing, and I trace it back to my happy
childhood’s experiences. Dear
Father was no talker but his actions how loudly they spoke. After going to Wigton School I found Jane R.
Choate (Brockbank) a steadfast friend, my schooldays were very happy also my time with
John Grubb Richardson and family of Moyallan and afterwards at John R. Proctor’s of
Low Lights, North Shields where I was governess at each place.”
In the year before I went to school I
was sent on a visit to Uncle John Grieve who had 2 sons - Thomas and John. Some years
previously their father had bought the Black Cleugh farm in West Allendale. It was a very wet soppy farm joining up to
the Fell. The Fell itself was valuable
as excellent herbage for sheep. They
kept a large number of sheep which were on the fell winter and summer. The sheep were under the management of
Thomas, John looked after the cattle. Every
attention was paid to the wants of the stock which when sold commanded high prices. The housekeeper was Milly Armstrong who was
certainly a treasure. At night Milly
occupied the Parlour. Uncle John and
his father slept in the kitchen whilst John and I slept in the attic above. Four-posted beds were in each room, all
carefully covered in with hangings of stout cloth. The roof in the house was covered with
thick grey tiles, and to keep the wind from coming through the quantities of dried moss
were wedged in during the summer; but all the same on a starry night I have seen the stars
peeping through. We slept in
wonderfully warm blankets and the fresh breezes were delightful especially on a
windy night. As I said before we had a large rainfall, and I found it impossible to keep
my feet dry, and I soon got used to enjoying wearing stockings constantly wet. We lived in splendid simplicity, rising
when light in the morning. Milly made a
splendid peat fire - we had peats galore, we should probably burn at Black Cleugh 100 cart
loads yearly, no coals when the kettle boiled, Thomas and John made each an oatmeal crowdy
and one for me. It consisted of medium
but highly roasted oatmeal, a little salt, boiling hot water poured on the meal, stirred
quickly to a nice consistency; then splendid butter milk poured on and it made a meal
fit for a king. About 9.30 we had a cup of tea, bread and butter and old home-made milk
cheese. For dinner a leg of mutton was
boiled on Sunday, potatoes, bread and broth galore. Through
the week we had bacon fried for dinner and also suet puddings, plain or with currants or
raisins; also rice pudding. Tea was an
extravagant meal; very strong coffee fresh
ground, cream, bread and butter (always brown rye bread).
They tended their flocks and herds
with assiduity, every animal was a pet, and when any were for sale, they had numerous
buyers. Their mare was a great
favourite but when my uncle died in 1850, the sons had to part with her as she was
difficult to handle. In the hay season,
the dried hay was taken to the stack-yard on a sledge.
The mare objected to have anything to do with the sledge, the only plan was to yoke
her in, in a cart and fasten the sledge behind.
In other ways too she was headstrong and at last was sold to younger men to manage.
The simplicities of their lives were
an example. There was no clock in the house but three watches hung in a row over the
kitchen dresser. The kitchen was their
living room. Their ~ants were simple
and few, and they gave generously to religious objects.
Of cheerful, humorous dispositions, they were frequent visitors to High Studdon
where they were ever welcome. The
brothers Thos, and John looked on their uncle as their second father.
Our Life at High Studdon
The house when bought by my ancestors
consisted of a kitchen and a back kitchen with a bedroom over each. They call such a house “tufoad”
two-fold. When I first remember the
house it’s size had been doubled by the addition of a parlour with a bedroom above
it, and attics. It was a grey stone house, with a roof of grey slates or heavy flag
stones. There were trees planted on
three sides of the house, chiefly ash trees but with a few firs among them. It stood about midway between the bottom of
the valley and the moor, so that the ground rose steeply above it. The fields were divided up by dry stone
walls, built without mortar or lime and six feet high;
the cost in wages at the time they were built was not more than 2/6 a day. The farm work as I remember it included
draining the fields, and getting mountain limestone from the bed of the Allen, burning
it in a kiln at the farm, and spreading it upon the land, where its beneficial effects
were soon seen in replacing the ling by good grasses and clovers.
Father and Mother slept in the
kitchen, in a “box” bed such as is used in Scotland. The parlour had also one of these beds in
it; indeed there was not a room in the house without a bed in it.
The chief work of the farm was
raising sheep. On the moors we kept
Black-faced sheep, and in the lower pastures Border Leicesters. My father was bent on improving the class of
Shorthorn cattle in the Dale, and he always gave his neighbours the benefit of anything he
had for this purpose. At the present
time the stock in that valley is as good as anywhere in the kingdom.
High Studdon is some distance from
the main road~ there is a steep winding rough road up through the fields to the house,
which is some 1200 feet above sea level. The
farm land and especially the fell where the sheep grazed is 200 ft. higher. One of Father’s chief
occupations was to see the stock every day, but I think that at certain times of the year
the sheep on the fell were neglected and we should lose at least 20 every year; they strayed away from their usual tracks and were
seen no more. In the winter all the cattle
were housed at night but turned out about 10 o’clock into the pastures. I was usually expected from quite an early
age to drive the stock to the pastures. The
dog Moss, a spotted animal, was my own age, a half breed -part fox-bound, part sheep dog -
and was my constant companion. Moss’s
growl was fearsome in meeting strangers, not that it ever led to biting anyone, but still
his manners and deportment commanded respect.
Hedgehogs made him furious, his mouth bled with the pricks. I once found a hedgehog with a nest of very
small young ones the mother growled audibly and I made a quick retreat. Moss could not catch a hare on his own. Thanks to Uncle John and his two sons all
the stone walls were high and solid and there was only one gate into a field so if a net
were placed against a gateway, if a hare was in the field, and Moss roused it, of course
it made for the gateway and flew right into the net and was caught. Hare pie was the correct thing and helped
the family dietary after the weekly leg of mutton had been consumed.
It was when I went out with Moss that
I got the habit of collecting birds’ eggs.
Moss put on a severe habit if strangers came in our way. I had no fear of bulls or other cattle, and
we would wander over the fells making new discoveries.
Often in these journeys I would stay out all day fairly famished with hunger, and I
had to reckon with mother for these delinquencies.
We always kept a bull, and this animal was a source of danger, but with Moss at my
heels I had no fear. I had to open the
gates and cross the high road on the way to the high pastures and managed as well as I
could. In seasons when the crop of hay
was short and the animals were turned out on the fell, it was extraordinary the distance
the cattle travelled, browsing all the day and returning as the day darkened to find a
large bundle of hay to go at. Each
animal knew their stalls and each in turn were tied up to a strong upright. It is extraordinary how to be able to look
back and remember the name and colour of each animal.
I had an ambition to ride all
animals, including horses, cattle, sheep and pigs.
I began to ride the mare when 5 yrs. of age, was tied on to its back and with a
stick in my hand led the hay on sledges from the field to the barns.
Cutting the grass was an exciting
time. The mowers were often cutting into the nests of the brown humble bee. I often looked
after the honey and though stings were painful, honey was sweet; we children made the most of the honey season. My
father made a practice of going to Hexham every 2 or 3 months for a supply of groceries
etc., and as a boy I used to accompany him. We
kept two Dales horses about 15 hands, high spirited, and when they had been on holiday for
2 or 3 days, were, to say the least, difficult to keep in order. They were extremely hardy
and could live if necessary on heather, brackens, and strong fibred grass. A special favourite was “Diamond”,
a mare who was apt at times to appear human, seeming to understand all we said. Her eyes, ears, face, were expressive. Frequently she had to draw the cart over
moors wet and soppy on which she could hardly walk without sinking. It was then she looked for help, and if a
supply of ling was thrown in front of her, she could stealthily move forward so long as it
was safe. We cut and dried about
60 cart-loads of peats which had to be led home for winter.
The journeys were beset with difficulties. Father talked to the mare and she seemed
to understand him. If very serious she would
give vocal expression to her fears. She was a great favourite with all the family.
The start for Hexham was usually at 7
o’clock in the morning. We
travelled across the fell in an ordinary cart: there were only tracks and to avoid large
stones deep holes and hills required care, so progress was slow. On a bright April morning as we entered upon
the fell all was life -~ the peewits wheeling round us, the golden plover’s plaintive
cry; the snipe was on the wing and the curlew
very nosy, but most noisy of all the grouse, the gorcock (male grouse) strutting round
most defiant in his call. As we got
further on the moor, the curlew flying round with his well known cry would follow us for a
mile or more. In two miles we came to
Baxton Cleugh where a few stunted rowan trees grew, and on one of these could always be
seen a carrion crow’s nest. All these sights kept me alert. In another two miles we came to a large wood
where we left the fell and entered upon Hexhamshire.
There for the first time I saw a red squirrel running along a wall top. At once I laid chase, but the little animal
sprung on to a Scotch fir and was soon safe at the top of the tree. The country became quite new to me then.
There were two cottages in one of which lived a man called “Old Nick”
who kept bees, and in the other a gamekeeper lived and had a family of children who
even to us seemed very wild and shy, like the wild animals.
We saw furze for the first time, we were not familiar with that. I used to take little plants of it home, but
they always died. Here I saw the
blackcock and the grey hen. The cock
was handsome, a splendid tail, black all over; the
hen, grey like a hen pheasant, only shorter, smaller and stumpy, they perch on trees. This bird is shy, of little use for shooting
drives, he simply makes for high heaven and flies in the direction he chooses irrespective
of the shouts of the beaters.
On the way to Hexham on our left we
saw Staley and Father told me that when he was young, he and his older brother Joseph and
his father led - in wood waggons - years after year fir wood from large plantations at
Staley to the mines at Allenheads. We
passed through a village called Doton (i.e., Dalton) and soon after reached the crest of
the hill and then saw Hexham two miles away down a steep hill. There I saw the Tyne valley
for the first time, looking N.W. to Haltwhistle along the South Tyne and looking far north
the Cheviot Hills seemed no great distance.
Then the valley of the North Tyne with Chollerford and the Roman Wall were visible,
the two Tynes joining up at Hexham to become at times a formidable river. Besides the Moot Hall in Hexham I was
greatly struck with the Abbey and old archways. One
thing I particularly remember was that people called my father Mr Hal instead of Hall (the
old Danish pronunciation) and the Tyne burr was quite new to me. In the dales no “burr” is known,
but the Dales people were slow in speech and the Tyne burr much quicker. My father bought a 20 stone sack of flour a mixture of barley, rye, oats and wheat
meal and made a dark loaf - also 20 stones of rye meal and 5 stones of white flour. We bought the oatmeal at home, there were no
less than 4 mills in the dale for oatmeal grinding.
We bought all ordinary groceries, not forgetting raisins and currants and coffee
and tea to last 2 or 3 months. The we
got the groceries from was that of John Grey and curiously enough when my father-in-law
Bartholomew Smith went to live at Weston-super-Mare he made the acquaintance of
descendants of this John Grey living there. After
feeding the mare and getting some dinner we yoked her into the cart and. went to Grey’s
to load up. I think my father took 3
mos. credit. I was constantly reminding
father not to forget the raisins which were used in rice puddings or suet puddings for
Sunday dinner, and it was always a moot point with me, whether raisins were more plentiful
in pudding ends or in the middle I don’t think I ever reached a decision.
Diamond was always most brisk on her
homeward journey and as she was heavy laden I had to walk quite a lot. Of course the younger children were on the
look-out for our re turn and expected fairings, indeed I looked at Mr. Grey with deep
meanings expressed in my eyes. We were
disappointed if father did not bring home a big package of brown bullets.
Our fuel at High Studdon consisted
mainly of peats. We should cut and lead about 20 loads in the year though of course the
cart loads were not large as the improvised roads across the ling were apt to be
treacherous after a day or two of rain. Railway
coals had to be led ten miles, small “cat” coals used for burning lime could be
obtained nearer, but all householders cut peats.
These peats were well dried and light by September~ and we led 5 cart loads daily.
Before I went to Wigton, I helped my father quite a lot in filling the light,
specially-constructed cart.
Before I went to Wigton whenever I
was not otherwise needed, Moss my large spotted dog used to go with me on to the fells,
and I knew very part thoroughly well. In
the vicinity of Bleaberry Cleugh on the moor, there were quite a number of springs of
water bursting out. In severe
weather wild ducks and geese gathered round these springs which never froze. In later years my brother Isaac brought
these springs and unfluctuating streams to the notice of the Hexham authorities, and now
they supply Hexham with abundant water.
In looking back on these years I feel
struck with awe, then the country thickly populated - to-day thinly populated. remains of
houses everywhere, either pulled down or in ruin. The inhabitants used to cut peats on the
moors universally no coals in those days; now
not a peat cut, only the shepherd is seen on the moors;
the road across to Hexhamshire is no more, the railways, buses and motors have
taken the field. The dales pony is fast disappearing and everything is changed. Even the
fells are altering, once there were only black ling moors with gor-cock (grouse) calling
loudly, and now grass is usurping the land and the heather is disappearing. Only one new bird I discovered the other
year that was the stone curlew, a real chatterbox.
Possibly the solitariness of the fells at present accounts for this. Ravens were often seen in my Father’s
time, and also hen-harriers who lived on the grouse which were so plentiful on the fells. We became familiar with a large number of
birds and animals which make their home on the wild fells, and the list which I can think
of is a long one and includes the following:
Curlew, Stone Curlew, Green Plover,
Peewit Common Snipe, Ring Ousel, Stone Chat,
Wheatear, Whin Chat, Meadow Chat, Titlark, Yellowhammer, Various Owl, Cushat (Wood
Pigeon), Ringdove - Seagulls, flock of wild Geese and other visiting birds came round in
severe weather, the common Wren sheltered among the ling, Missel Thrushes were very common
but the Song Thrush did not live there, Wild Duck bred there. And of animals there were Squirrels, Foxes,
Weasels and Stoats. My Father never
carried a gun so we had a good chance of seeing all the creatures. The rabbits did not increase, being kept down by
the other beasts; Hares we killed whenever we could, Father was ever in the habit of
taking the children with him round the farm or on the fell.
One day he took Hannah with him on the fell carrying her part of the time. When he found that he had to go some
distance over the carrs, a part of the moors where great boulders of millstone grit was
scattered everywhere. He wrapped Hannah
up warmly and told her to stay there until his return, however when he came back she was nowhere to be seen. He covered the ground all round and called
out loudly, but no reply, he rushed home and called out Uncle John Grieve and his two
sons, also calling at two farmhouses, getting all possible help they soon found her half a mile away in a
sound sleep. In working his farm he would make us do our share of
the work as far as we were able; and on his
rounds of the farm would take with him the younger children and so teach them many things
by the way. He taught us Scripture, and
reciting hymns and poetry and we learnt a great deal of wild Nature on the high pastures
and the moors, on those never-to-be-forgotten rounds.
I used to sit on the moor above
Studdon, or on Sinderhope Carrs, which was the highest point, and look away into Scotland
and wonder who lived there, and what the country was like so far away. Near home was Catton Beacon, on the other
side a beacon at Allenheads where on occasion huge fires were lit giving warning to Durham
and Teesdale. Near Catton Beacon is Slaward
Peel a four-sided building with immensely thick walls, standing on ¾ acre of ground
where people could drive in all their stock of cattle etc., and thus secure them from the
attacks of raiders. Within 2 miles of
the Peel is Langly Castle - a strongly built castle secure from any attack so that the
Scots could be entirely checked in this particular direction. Stories of invasion by these Scotchmen were
common in those days.
Southwards we could see Kilhope Law,
the highest mountain in the district. It
is situated at the junction of three counties - Durham, Northumberland and Cumberland -
and its slopes lie in all three. There
grew knout-berries galore not so bad for jam, about the size of a garden strawberry,
pink and white in colour. We were very
fond of them.
Our parents had eleven children, and with Aunt Sarah there were fourteen persons to
feed. We made about a score of cheese
every year, and that was always on the table but it was made of skimmed milk. We creamed all the milk, and the butter was
sold, at about 8d. a pound in those days. Beef was not sold by the butchers, only mutton;
the beef all went to the town. For
breakfast we children had porridge and skim milk - no sugar or treacle - and coffee and
bread and butter. “Crowdie”
was much used in the Dale; you pour boiling water on the oatmeal, and eat it with milk,
but we made porridge in our family. This
was our bill of fare along with fresh air and water. I
have eaten scores of Crowdies; when I was
with my cousins the Grieves I never had anything else.
For dinners, we always had a boiled leg of mutton on Sundays, went on with that as
long as it lasted, and then had bacon. In
the winter we cured half a young beast, a neighbour taking the other half. We treated it the same way as bacon, and it
was very good. For tea there was bread
and butter, but the butter was put on very thin. Sometimes it was dry bread and cheese. The bread was brown, made with leaven, the
meal being a mixture of rye and wheat in which rye predominated. It was made in loaves weighing about ten
pounds. Sister Hannah learned how to
make pastry when she was in Newcastle and brought her art with her to High Studdon. I indulged in currant and raisin cakes and
loaves, and dumplings on every possible occasion.
High Studdon had two cottages
occupied, one with grey slate roof, the other with a ling-thatched roof, this was tenanted
by Tommy Stobbs and his wife Tabitha, the other by Marmaduke Forest - both were lead
miners. Aunt Betty, as we called
Forest’s wife, was evidently his second wife as she had one son and tvwo daughters
called Joseph, Jane and Sally Philipson, all three married during my reco1lection. Aunt
Betty farmed 5 fields let off from High Studdon, her house was a place of constant resort
for our children, I always had Sunday dinner with them until I was six when I started to
go to Meeting. Our dinner was always
suet dumplings cooked with raisins to which I was always partial.
Our clothing was not luxurious in
quality or quantity. In the neighbourhood there was a mill to which we took our fleeces to
be spun into “gairn” (yarn) which was spun in the winter evenings into wool, and
from that they knitted the stockings and other things for the household. I remember the spinning wheel standing in
the kitchen, but it was put in the garret when not in use;
it was found in the garret when my brother left the farm, and Emmeline Cadbury has
it now. Scotch “pethers” (Pedlars) used to come round
to the houses with bundles of cloth, and sell a good deal I believe; but our family usually bought from the shops. My sisters wore what they called
“Tuscan” bonnets, with ribbons from the ears to the front, but on no account
were they allowed ribbons round to the back; afterwards this was admitted. My Mother wore long “scuttle”
bonnets. There were dressmakers. John Hewitson married Hannah Watson, whose
son settled in Leeds and became an engineer. These
Watsons made dresses for my sisters and Aunt. I
remember carrying a fleece over to the mill with my Mother, calling on friends till it was
done, and carrying it home.
The Brothers and Sisters
1. Hannah born 12 mo.2.1825
married Matthew Henderson in 1851.
5. Mary born
8 mo.13.1835 married Thomas Little of Alston 7 mo. 1860
6. Jane
born 8 mo.18.1838 married Joseph Pickering 7 mo.5.1860
died 1911.
8. Sarah
Ann died young (aged 6 mos.)
9. Sarah
Ann born 9 mo.1845 married Richard Haydock 7 no.15.1868.
R.H. died 1900.
10. Margaret
born 11 mo.19.1848 married Samuel C1emes in Switzerland 12 July 1884 (2nd wife)
11. Susannah
born 4 mo.21.1851 married Samuel Clemes
When I was born, my father would be
50, my mother 36. My mother hugged me with many a hug, and lullabies galore,. her
affections were unstinted., but she was executive in a high degree, my father was quiet
and when sitting by the fire there was competition for one knee or even two - no
fault-finding. Aunt Sarah often had a
heated wordy argument - the brother and sister were near akin - on these occasions
never a syllable from mother. As an
elder daughter Hannah was a great help to her mother.
When I can first remember my two
older sisters and two older brothers had left Wigton School.. Hannah was a nursery governess with Wm.
Pattison of the Felling, Joseph was with Chas. Bragg a Friend of Newcastle - a draper in
Pilgrim Street. Isaac and Elizabeth
remained at High Studdon. Jane was the
next older and my younger sister died at 6 mos. old.
The next sister Sarah Ann was four years my junior, then followed Margaret and
Susan.
JOSEPH
My oldest brother Joseph was a great
success at Wigton, he was head boy. He
took great interest in natural history, both in birds and flowers, and botany was a great
subject with him. Daniel Oliver,
afterwards Prof. Oliver of Kew, keeper of the Herbarium was a great friend of his and they
carried on a correspondence after leaving school, botany being a great link between them. Joseph made a large collection of
birds’ eggs~ some 50 different kinds, amongst others were some jackdaws eggs which he got by descending a chimney. Many years afterwards I attempted the same
chimney with adventures which are related elsewhere.
Joseph brought home rabbits and guinea pigs,
he made a special run for the rabbits, collecting a large quantity of
branches of trees and covering them with soil.
Years afterwards my father in
memory of his son - objected to the killing of the rabbits, but our neighbours managed to
get them at night. After leaving
school Joseph went on as an apprentice teacher at the School. The then superintendent Robert Doeg and the
teacher Samuel Hare were no disciplinarians. There
was a rebellion in the school and the superintendent and teacher were put into the area by
the boys. Joseph rescued them,. but
left the school and went to Newcast1e~on~Tyne to Chas.. Bragg as mentioned before.
Joseph made me a little wicker
carriage with wheel. I remember how once he took me off to Uncle John’s in West
Allendale carrying me most of the way over the long heather which it was not easy for me
to walk amongst. It would be seven miles
there and of course we had to come back. Probably
this would be the same year that he died as I was only four years old at the time of his
death; he was of a very affectionate loving nature.
We have still some of his letters in our possession.
Letters were costly to send in those days, so writers contrived to send a lot of
news when they wrote.
In his 18th year a severe
epidemic of malignant typhus fever from the Continent raged in Newcastle. He died of it after two or three days’
illness, without our parents seeing him, in fact the doctor and housekeeper were the only
ones who did see him after being taken ill. His remains were brought to Allendale Meeting
burial ground. Joseph had black hair
and dark complexion like our mother.
HANNAH
My sister Hannah married Matthew
Henderson, she had several suitors, but my father much approved of Matthew Henderson. I well remember the wedding morning. Matthew
came with a dogcart, there was a grand breakfast, and then they drove off to Hexham to be
married
In early life Matthew was a Sunday
School teacher at the Primitive Methodist Chapel in Allendale.
He was reserved in manner, extremely kind-hearted and very fond of his children. He was very particular to keep Sunday as a
day of rest and as an opportunity for religious thought4. He was much in sympathy with the Society of
Friends though he never joined the Society as they grew up.
Matthew live~ to his 87th year and it was a pleasure to see how
peacefully he and my sister spent the last few years of their lives - she survived him a
few years. Hannah like Joseph was dark
complexioned. Like all her sisters
she had a strong will and managed her family with great discretion; a tower of strength to
her husband in his very active life as he was never Slow to acknowledge. She died in her 86th year. After my father’s death I
often spent my holidays with my sister Hannah. She was looked up to and loved by all. One of my holidays when I was l8 I found the
parents in the deepest distress and despair, their twin boys only a few months old were
very ill. The doctor had just left the house giving slender hopes of recovery, and as we
sat looking at the two infants in their double old-fashioned cradle I suggested, “Why
not put them both into a hot bath up to their necks and then straight back into bed?” I retired for the night with little hope of
success from our venture. In coming
downstairs in the morning, I faintly enquired if they were both dead, and received the
joyful reply that they were both alive and lively; so we thought the hot water bath a
marvellous cure.
ISSAC
My brother Isaac had not good health in his early life. One winter father and he were caught on the
fell in a terrible snowstorm. When they
arrived home both my father and Isaac were nearly perished with cold, from the immediate
effects of which my brother Isaac took four or five years ~ recover and as a consequence
only got one year’s education at Wigton School.
It had the effect of making him nervous and irritable and had some effect on his
memory, he however gradually outgrew this and lived to be 90 years of age.
JOHN WILLIAM
J.W.H.
writes of himself that he was a “spoilt child”. On one occasion his
brother Isaac, twelve years older than the little boy, thought well to administer
chastisement. The youngster promptly called the dog Moss and set him on Isaac. The dog caught hold of Isaac’s clothing
and he could do nothing. Hold on,
Moss, hold on.” said the little boy, and Moss held on till Isaac had undertaken to
forego the threatened thrashing, and then at last Moss received the order to leave go. One can imagine an interested family
watching these proceedings.
Isaac and his wife lived for some
years at High Studdon, afterwards settling at Ashington.
Here his interest in engineering found scope for his energies. The-re his son Joseph was, and still is, a
head engineer for that large group of collieries where 12-13,000 Miners are employed.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth married Matthew Stephenson,
who was a local preacher amongst the Wesleyans.
She had brown hair, had the sweetest of tempers and was easy going, but difficult
to read and had a way of her own. In
disposition she was like her father. In
after years she joined the Wesleyans.
MARY
Mary.was a handsome brilliant girl
full of determination missing no
points, and especially devoted to her young brothers and sisters, arranging for their
education and future prospects. She
became a pupil teacher at Wigton after leaving school.
We four youngest children were her special and constant care, and she lived a long
life to be loved by her children and all who knew her.
JANE.
Jane was at Wigton with Mary,
afterwards coming home to live at High Studdon.
She was not so clever as her sisters at school but perfectly true and conscientious
-no deceit in her nature. She married
Joseph Pickering of Garrigill on the same day as Mary married Thomas Little of Alston; the double wedding took place at Allendale Meeting
House, both the bridegrooms being “Friends” and the dinner was held in the town
inn.
Five of my sisters at some part of
their lives were engaged in teaching, two Where at Home
engaged in domesticities. I consider that the five had distinct advantages over the
two They got further education which
was all to the good.
Further Notes on Brothers and Sisters.-
Of the three youngest sisters J.W.H.
has not written specially in these sets of notes, for he seemed to have looked back for
the most part to earlier days. They
were young children when he went to Wigton and after leaving school he lived at
Sunderland, then on their father’s death the home at High Studdon was broken up. Their sister Mary Little, then living at
Alston, took charge of them and they were always welcome at the home of their eldest
sister Hannah Henderson. After the
marriage of J.W.H. another home was open to the three, but Sarah was married shortly after
her brother, and went to live in Ireland.
SARAH ANNE HALL
Was born 9.26.1845 and was at Wigton from 6 mo. 1855 to 9 mo. 160
so she was at school with J.W.H. for nearly two years, and left a few months before her
father’s death. She writes - “After going to Wigton School, I found Jane R.
Choat (later Brockbank) a steadfast friend. My
school days were very happy, also my times as governess with John Grubb Richardson’s
family at Moyallon and afterwards at John R. Procter’s home, Low Lights,
North Shields. After my marriage to
Richard Haydock (1868), I received every kindness from Friends in the North of Ireland,
and here in New York can say the same.”
MARGARET HALL
Was born 11.19.1848. She
spent five years at Wigton and two at the Mount School - York, and in after years studied
at Edinburgh and in both France and Germany, so was well qualified for her work as a
teacher, and had a Wider education than most young women of those days. She acted as governess in a Hodgkinson and a
Pease family, and was on the Ackworth staff for a year.
In the intervals she was a much valued aunt to a large circle of nephews and
nieces.
She took the post of governess at
Wigton School in 1882 when Samuel Clemes (retired from the mission field) was engaged as
first class master. The death of her
sister Susan Clemes gave her the double jobs of governess on the girls’ side and
housekeeper at the cottage for S.C. and his three motherless children. After trying this for a year, she gave up
the teaching and found plenty of occupation otherwise.
At one time she was knitting knees into the stockings of Maggie and Willie every
week. In the summer holidays of
1884 Margaret Hall and Samuel Clemes were married in Switzerland.
Samuel Clemes came of a Cornish
family with excellent brains and more than a touch of genius, and he had his share of
both. He was naturally a Pioneer, ready
to open new ground. He said that as
long as any boy or girl stayed at school he would teach them any subject they
In 1886 after four years at Wigton,
he was off with his family to Hobart to found the long-desired Friends’ School there. It was the same missionary spirit which had
led him to Madagascar, desire to serve others and no thought for what would by most people
be considered his “own interests”.
SUSAN HALL
The youngest child, known in the family as “Susie”, was a very sweet and lovable person. She was born in 1851 and went to school at Wigton three months before her father died, after which Alston was her home. After four years at Wigton, she spent two years as scholar at Ackworth and then went on there as apprentice. Samuel Clemes was a student at the Flounders College, somewhat older than most of them. A storm arose when he and Susan announced their engagement, for “apprentices” were not allowed to make matrimonial plans till their time was up. J.VT.H. went over to Ackworth to interview George Satte