‘Your Excellency’s kinsman and servant,
‘T. Young.’
Ingoldsby was cruelly used at the battle of Fontenoy by the Duke of Cumberland, who had sent him orders to put himself at the head of a detachment to attack a temporary redoubt which the French had thrown up, but gave him no directions to take cannon; and when Ingoldsby arrived at the spot he saw the necessity. He instantly dispatched his Aide-de-camp to demand cannon, but before they came the position of the troops changed, and an order came to draw off. No consequences attended this business, nor had it any effect on the loss of the battle; but an opportunity was taken to throw the whole blame on Ingoldsby, and to attach to him all the consequences of that defeat. Ingoldsby complained of this, and Ligonier himself came to him from the Duke to assure him that the D. knew his bravery, and highly valued him, but advised him by all means to be quiet, and everything would blow over, and the business be forgotten. Nothing had been said on the affair, but to save the reputation of the Duke. Mrs. Ingoldsby, losing all patience at his not being promoted according to promise, never let him rest till he published his case, which put an end to all hope of promotion in the Army, and he was obliged to retire. He was in all the Duke of Marlborough’s campaigns, and served with great reputation to the moment of the battle of Fontenoy.
When I was of a proper age to be placed at school, a choice had to be made between those of Bury St. Edmunds and Lavenham[[1]]; no possible motive could induce any one to think of the latter, except the circumstance of my father having been there himself. The master of the former school, Mr. Kinsman, was one of the finest scholars of his age, and is mentioned with much respect by Cumberland in his memoirs.[[2]] Whilst the matter was in abeyance the Rev. M. Coulter, Master of Lavenham School, came to Bradfield, and my mother, unfortunately for me, was so much pleased with the extreme good temper manifested in his countenance that she persuaded my father to entrust me to his care. I was accordingly sent to that wretched place. I was to learn Latin and Greek, with arithmetic, but whether from being a favourite or from the diversion of frequent visits home, I afterwards found myself so ill-grounded in the above languages that for some time before I left the school I found it necessary to give much attention to them in order to recover the lost time. It is easy to suppose how much I was indulged from one instance among many others. At dinner the first dish the boys were helped to was pudding, which I disliked, and was excused from eating—the case of no other pupil. As to correction, I have no recollection of receiving any thing of the sort.[[3]] I had, however, a sufficient awe of the Master. During the last years of my stay I had a pointer and gun, and often went out with Mr. Coulter, he with a partridge net and I with my gun. I had a room to myself and a neat collection of books. I remember beginning to write a history of England, thinking that I could make a good one out of several others. How early began my literary follies! I seemed to have a natural propensity for writing books. The following bill for a year’s schooling and board must in the present period (about 1816) be considered a curiosity:—‘The Rev. Dr. Young to John Coulter, Xmas 1750, to Xmas 1751. A year’s board, &c. 15l. Sundries 2l. 4s. 4d. Total 17l. 4s. 4d.’ I find from a memorandum book of my mother’s that in 1746 beef was 3d., veal 3d., and mutton 3½d. per pound at Bury.
About the year 1753 I was inoculated. This was a scheme of my mother’s which she had more than once proposed, but my father would not consent to it. Taking, however, the opportunity of his visit to Cambridge, she ventured on the experiment. At this period inoculation was so little understood that it is utterly astonishing how anyone could escape; instead of the cool regimen afterwards prescribed by Sutton,[[4]] the practice was to keep the patient’s chamber as close and hot as possible, the shutters were kept up, and the door never opened without being shut speedily. I suffered much, and Dr. Kerrich, the physician at Bury, for some time attended every day. It pleased the Almighty that I should recover, one of many instances in which His providence preserved a wretch who was to sin against Him by a multitude of offences. When my father returned and I ran out to meet him, my mother exclaimed in a triumphant tone, ‘There! I have had Arthur inoculated, and you enjoy the comfort of knowing that your boy has had that terrible disorder.’ My father looked at me, but neither spoke a word on the subject then nor ever after. This was his way—resolute in rejecting all proposals touching upon novelty, and cool after their accomplishment. In an inferior circumstance he showed the same temper, as I will relate. The family pew at church was a wretched hole, lined with ragged cloth and covered with dust; the pulpit also was tumbling with age and rottenness. On my father’s going to London and leaving my brother at Bradfield, he begged permission to have a new pew and pulpit. This was refused. ‘Good enough, Jack!’ said my father. But Jack attacked his mother, and set the carpenter to work, who made a spacious pew, with one for the servants, new pulpit and reading desk. The first Sunday my father went to church, on approaching the place, he stopped short, surveyed all three with great attention, said nothing, and on joining the family party home never opened his lips, nor ever after mentioned the subject. He was inwardly pleased, but not gracious enough to confess it. There was in Dr. Young a strong mixture of obstinacy and sang-froid, as the preceding anecdotes prove.
In 1753 I went to London, and find by an old pocket-book that I saw Mr. Garrick in ‘Archer,’[[5]] heard the Oratorio, ‘The Messiah,’ spent an evening at Ranelagh, and viewed the Tower and St. Paul’s. I also remember visiting the widow of General Ingoldsby, who opened her house every evening to all comers, nor was the number of fashionable people inconsiderable. John Wilkes, afterwards so well known, I met there more than once; he was then considered a wit. Mrs. Ingoldsby made a point of going to Court at least twice a year, but I never heard her repeat any other conversation with the King than complaining to him how much she was afflicted with rheumatism.
In 1754 died Mrs. Sidney Kennon, a lady highly respected and well known as the midwife to the Princess of Wales; she also brought into the world my brother, sister and myself, and was a very old friend of my father’s, and him she left executor and residuary legatee. That her professional emoluments were of some consideration was proved by the fact of a gentleman after her decease presenting her executor with fifty guineas as her fee for having delivered his wife. By her will all her furniture and a great collection of medals, bronzes, shells, curiosities, books on natural history, &c. with money in the funds, came into his possession, to the amount of nearly five thousand pounds. By a codicil she had ordered that her servants should be retained and the house kept for six months after her death, in consequence of which our family moved into her residence in Clifford Street. It was, of course, to be expected that my father would sell all the curiosities, but that a clergyman, a man of learning, having a son of my brother’s attainments should dispose of such a collection, was not looked for; my maternal Uncle, de Cousmaker, dining one day at the house enquired as to my father’s intentions. On being informed that everything would go to an auction, he asked the price. My father replied that the articles had not been valued, but he supposed that they would fetch fifty or sixty pounds. Mr. de C. at once offered sixty guineas, the bargain was struck, and the books departed next day, to our great mortification; the price was preposterous, as the collection contained many curious and scarce publications, and my Uncle afterwards sold many of the duplicates for a greater amount than he had given for the whole, yet retaining a most valuable number. As a proof of the worth of what might be called Mrs. Kennon’s Museum, I insert a letter to her from Sir Martin Folkes, President of the Royal Society.
‘Madame,—I am sorry I had not the happiness of seeing you when I was last to wait on you, but will take another opportunity of paying my respects. The worms you were pleased to send seem to me the very same I received from Holland, and which I was in the utmost distress for, being quite out, and my Polypes in great want, so that a word of instruction, how I may get at some of these worms, will be a great obligation. When I had the honour of leaving you a Polype, I had never a one by me with a young one fairly put out, so here was one beginning. I now beg leave to send you such a one; and when you are disposed to cut one will wait on you, and show it you in a microscope, if you have not yet seen it. I beg leave to return very many thanks for the favour of seeing your noble collection of rarities, and have hardly talked of anything else since.
‘I am, Madam, with the sincerest respect,
‘Your ladyship’s most obedient humble servant,