One Sunday morning, having gone down with our masters’ cows, and placed them at their food, we had a little leisure to think, and to talk over the goodness of God to us, his creatures. Coming to an alder tree, fresh and green, my companion stopped, and—taking off his cap said: “Here we must have a little bit of prayer.” Those were the words. I was taken somewhat by surprise. We both knelt—the grass was our carpet; John led off in earnest, solemn, heartfelt prayer, possessing the true spirit of devotion—heard, and witnessed, and accepted in the heavenly courts above, indicating an earnest of the promised possession of the heavenly inheritance. I feel something of the rekindling of God’s love while I am recording this interesting incident. When he had concluded I felt also prompted to make the attempt, in compliance with his request, but my sentences were feeble and broken, the very first that were ever heard in prayer by a fellow-creature.
We often resorted thither for prayer subsequently, and often felt it to be a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. Once, on a Beccles horse-racing occasion, we repaired thither, and prayed for the giddy multitude, as also for our friends and acquaintances. There was another young man, James Taylor, whom we wished to draw into our company; but, he being a servant, soon changed his master, and went beyond our reach. He is also gone to rest, having died at Lowestoft about 1860.
I attended to the commands of my master and mistress; was fairly fed; and my duties were not very stringent. I was not bound down so closely on the shop seat, but had plenty of outing, and oftentimes worked very late at night, so that we might forward our work, and accomplish the orders by the end of the week, although there was often too much to be done on a Sunday. My master oft indulged himself in such company as are to be found in public-houses, even on the Sabbath. There were in those days no restrictions as to the hours. The houses were kept open all day long, and sometimes he would take me with him, if there was not anything to take me in any other direction. On one occasion he stayed at the “Bell,” at Beccles, a long time, and being unwilling to part with the company he sent me on to Gillingham, two miles further. He had a customer who lived through Gillingham Toll-gale; thither I was to go to transact business, and then return. On my return, he was not ready to go home with me, but said he would be soon. After waiting till I was tired, I set off to go home to Worlingham. The mistress, knowing I had gone out with the master, insisted upon knowing where I had left him; I stated the truth. She felt uncomfortable, and said she would go and fetch him home. I said that it would not be advisable; that there were drunken people, who would laugh to see her sorrows multiplied; and that, perhaps, she would bear words by which she would be more grieved. She did not go, and for years after she appreciated the advice it was my happiness to tender on that occasion.
I made progress in my trade; the time—4 years, 31 weeks, and 4 days were being reduced, for time flies. My master’s father occupied a small farm in the same parish. Master and I used often to go and help him in busy seasons, such as hay and harvest seasons. I was also allowed to help master’s customers a few days during the harvest, being always supplied with good harvest food; sometimes the strong ale would make me stagger; and, although I had to work harder, somehow I always felt delighted with the change.
We had only one service at the parish church each Sunday, that being one reason why I was permitted to attend chapel, and sometimes my friend John and I were allowed to go to the Primitive Chapel, at Beccles. This was during the early ministry of Robert Key; and sometimes we were privileged to listen to that good man, and were instructed and comforted thereby, admiring his plain and easy style of preaching, the gospel of truth and love, through the atonement and satisfaction of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the infinite importance of being saved from wrath through Him. The good Lord crowned this man’s efforts with abundant success, and he became a “burning and a shining light.”
My master was a kind of sportsman; he kept a gun, also a dog, and occasionally used them. We were friendly with the gamekeeper, and as we did not annoy or pursue the game, no notice was taken of the master. I say “we,” for I was allowed to use the gun, and shoot as many wood-pigeons as I could during the winter seasons, for we could not work much at the trade during the sharp weather. The family increased—a third son was born named Robert; in process of time a fourth named Samuel. Master built a workshop, for the cottage was becoming too small. He suggested that I should lodge in the new building. I preferred staying in the old quarters, and ultimately was permitted to do so to the end of my engagement.
I had often to go very long journeys on Sunday mornings—especially those Sundays when there was no service at church—to Ellough, to Hulver, to Henstead, to Mutford, and sometimes through Beccles to Gillingham, and on one occasion I went with master to Bungay on business. In this and many other ways the Sabbath was greatly desecrated, while the world with its fascinations and alurements obtained faithful service.
About this time a very tragical affair occurred in our parish. My friend’s master was on his way home from Beccles, one Saturday night, very late, when, before he arrived at his house, he was attacked by a ruffian, beaten about the head, and almost killed. It was said he would have been quite murdered, but he had a very thick hairy head—something like a negro’s—by reason thereof the blows did not take fatal effect.
He managed to reach home, and they naturally were greatly alarmed at his condition. My friend was called up, and sent to Beccles for the doctor. He had to go past where the murderous attack had been committed, the ground being still moist with blood. Coming to the place, he told me, he came upon his master’s hat, and having placed it over into Worlingham Park till his return, went forward again unmolested. Arriving at the town, by Fair Close, when near the Prison, there was a gate and a style, he said he knelt down, and prayed that the Lord would be merciful to his master, and heal him, and spare him a little longer. This was, perhaps, the first prayer offered in Beccles on that Sunday morning—it was past midnight. When his poor injured master arrived at his home that prayer was heard and answered, for by assiduous and skilful treatment, poor William Pidgeon’s life was preserved some twenty years longer. A reward £100 was offered by the Government, upon proof of the offence being established against the perpetrator, but it was not discovered until the poor conscience stricken miserable wretch confessed to it upon his dying bed. This was the outcome of the burden of a guilty conscience.
During all my servitude hitherto I had but a small amount of pocket money; but in my last year, 1829, after earning a certain sum for master weekly, I was allowed the surplus, and, another coming in to take some of the out-door turns, I could sit and work at the trade more closely, and with more energy, and this also proved an advantage to the master, as well as to myself: thus our interests were to a certain extent mutual, although when a mistake happened, as it sometimes did, then it would assuredly be religion that was most ridiculed, of the which poor master could not discover there was any necessity, although admonished by repeated warnings that our days are as a vapour which soon vanisheth away.