Letter from John Barton Senior to his children, April 1850

[I am indebted to Colleen Samuel for passing this letter on to me.]

April 15th 1850

My dear Children,

I have thought it may be useful and agreeable to you to have a little record of the principal event of my life – But you must not consider this as an autobiography – that is, a record of my own character and feelings. I could not bear to make them known, even to you, all my past sins and follies - & to give a partial view, would be in my estimation, something like a want of veracity.

My great grandfather, who bore the same name with myself, was a Cumberland yeoman. You may see a view of his house & premises over the fireplace in my study library – I know little or nothing of his history. His son, Bernard, removed I believe to Carlisle when he became a Calico Printer. He died young leaving the care of his children to his eldest John – who was my father. He continued at Carlisle for several years, carrying on the business in which his father had been engaged, & with tolerable success. But he removed to London, where he entered, as I have heard, into a wholesale Linen Trade, in Milk St, Cheapside, which proved a losing concern. He then removed to Hertford, where he entered into a Malting business & continued till his death.

Early in life he married a young lady of the name of Done , by whom he had two daughters & a son. The eldest daughter, Maria, married Stephen Hack, of Chichester, the second Elizabeth died unmarried, the son who was named Bernard (after his grandfather I presume) acquired some celebrity as a poet.

Of my father’s character and history I know not much. He was a lover, I believe of intellectual pursuits, as is in some measure by the portrait of him which hangs up in the dining-room, representing him in the attitude of reflection, with a volume of Locke in his hand, & before him on the table a sheet of paper “Extract of Locke’s Essay” – I should draw a similar conclusion from the few letters of his that I have – and from the few incidents I have heard of him – but I never saw him, for he died before my birth.

Being left a widower by the death of his first wife he afterwards married Elizabeth Horne, who was my mother – she was the daughter of a prosperous Coal Merchant in London, who had a country home at Tottenham, & a town house near his business at Bankside, Southwark. Though situated in a very unfashionable neighbourhood this house commanded a pleasant view of the river Thames & the City of London beyond it, with its forest of steeples & St Paul’s dome rising over all. Also a view of London & Blackfriar’s bridges – Southwark bridge was not then in existence.

My Mother, when left a widow, was residing at Hertford where my father died. But for the sake, I believe,of better professional advice, & probably for the comfort and advantage of the society of her parents, she went up to Bankside to lie in – There was I born – on the 4th of June 1789.

My mother returned to Hertford, but did not stay there very long. She went for a time to Croydon - & ultimately took a small house at Tottenham, a short distance from her Father – for which she paid only 16 guineas per year & lived in great frugality till, by his death, she came in for a share of his property. It appears from her Account Books, which she kept with great regularity, & which are still in my possession, that she never spent at that time so much as £200 a year, though she had four children to maintain. – She was a very conscientious woman, & perhaps I am indebted to her prayers & tears, which were many, for every good feeling that I possess. She was so kind a stepmother, that Elizabeth who lived with her till her death, loved her as if she had been her own daughter. She was afflicted with severe depression of the spirits, as appears painfully from the little books in which she recorded the chief events of her life and her state of mind.

At eight years old I was sent to a Boarding School at Tottenham where I suffered much from the rudeness of the boys, being a timid child, & having been brought up among women. I had not been at school many months when I was attacked with a swelling in the calf of my leg, which proved so serious that it detained me from school for more than a year. My Uncle Janson kindly granted me the run of his town house in Ball Road Passage (?) Wood Street in that I might more have the advice of Mr. Blizzard the surgeon (afterwards Sir William Blizzard). He made an incision in my leg to let out the matter which had formed there, & for a long time left the wound open with caustic – As the summer [in the margin 'ap. 6. 1798'] advanced he recommended sea-bathing, & my Uncle Horne was kind enough to take me down with my Mother, to Brighton in his carriage – This was the first journey I had ever taken, & I still remember the wonder and delight that I felt at the first view of the sea – In the autumn of the same year Mr Janson was kind enough to take me down to Dover, where he generally spent some weeks annually. About the next winter, I think, I returned to school, my leg having healed. I then found myself behind my former companions, though when I first went to school I was thought a promising boy. This so much discouraged me that I made little effort to learn, & I was often at the bottom of my class. My school days were far from happy. The master had not the talent of conciliating the attachment of his pupils, & though I was rather a favourite with him, I never loved him.

Indeed I may say the same of my youthful days generally – I was not happy – I caught perhaps in some measure the infection of my mother’s low spirits. I felt the difference in her circumstances & those of the other Branches of the family, who were wealthy. I sometimes perhaps imagined myself despised & slighted, when nothing of the kind was intended. In all essential points my Uncles, Aunts and Cousins, were kind to me – some of them very much so – But I was naturally timid, & though I enjoyed tolerable health I never had that robustness of frame which is generally connected with high spirits – I came from school with a very slender stock of learning, but I had a natural love of reading, & gained more, I think, from what I read in my playhours, than from what I learned in school hours –

At fourteen I was placed at Chichester with my brother-in-law Stephen Hack who was engaged in the importation of Irish provisions & corn, & also was engaged in the Leather business. I was in the Counting-house belonging to the first named business. I was never thought to shew talent in business – but I had a good deal of spare time which I employed in reading – this was my chief pleasure. At twenty-one I became a partner with my brother-in-law.

At twenty-two years of age I was married to Ann, the eldest daughter of Thomas Woodruffe Smith, formerly a wealthy merchant in London, at that time resident in Stockwell – I should rather say at the time of my courtship – for he died before the marriage took place. He left me one of his Executors. Ann was a gentle, affectionate, refined & beautiful young woman – but indifferent health & the anxiety from this cause cast a cloud over my happiness. In the autumn of 1817 I was induced on her account to spend the winter at Nice which appeared beneficial to her, & on the whole there are few periods of my life that I look back to with more pleasure. In the following Summer we visited Switzerland remaining some time at Geneva – in the autumn we returned to Chichester.

The improvement in my wife’s health which I had witnessed with so much pleasure during our residence at Nice – proved only temporary. After our return to England she gradually declined, & died in the autumn of 1822 – of c last to a consumption. After many fears & anxieties, she attained at last to a comfortable assurance of pardon & acceptance. As she left no children I felt doubly desolate – my residence at Chichester became painful to me – I longed for solitude - & buying a farm at Stoughton I enlarged the farm house for my residence, & removed there, letting my house at Chichester.

In 1828 I married a second time to Fanny Rickman, who was your mother. In 1833 went to pass another winter on the Continent chiefly on account of the health of your Aunt Josephine, who was living with us at Stoughton. We went to Naples, & spent some weeks at Sorrento, one the opposite side of the Gulph – we were abroad altogether about half a year.

After my return to England I found the house at Stoughton too small for my increasing family, & made many enquiries for another residence – at last I bought the house & farm at Leigh, where I now reside. We moved to this spot in the autumn of 1834.

When I bought the property at Leigh, it was my intention to let the land but not meeting at the time with a tenant to my mind, I was led to keep it & farm it myself, & I became so fond of the occupation that I afterwards continued to farm it for preference. It has not however been a profitable employment.

On the 14th of November, 1842, I became again a widower. My wife had just been confined, when she caught scarlet fever from her daughter Sara (Anne?). The disease appeared very slight, & the medical man who attended her thought so favourably of her that he had taken his leave of her, regarding her as convalescent, when she was attacked by inflammation of the lungs which very rapidly proved fatal. A few days previous our little daughter Sara had died of the fever – This however did not appear to distress her Mother as much as might have been feared. She had, or it seemed, resigned all thoughts of earthly care, looking forward to her approaching end with calmness & peace. On the morning of her death she experienced a wish to receive the sacrament. Mr. Martin came accordingly, & she followed every part of the servce, though unable to speak above a whisper – within an hour after she peacefully breathed her last, without a struggle, having taken leave of us all, kissed her infant daughter, & sent a message of love to her absent children.

Some years later, being just sixty years of age, I was attacked with Paralysis which deprives my hand of the power of writing intelligibly. But in the little space which remains to me I wish to say a few words to you my children.

I have already said that you must not consider this as an autobiography. But I may say a few words to you as the result of my experience of life.

Almost all that I possess of religious feelings or principles I [blank but perhaps owe?] to the sorrowful events of my life – In health, prosperity and unclouded days of happiness I have always found myself growing arrogant and forgetful of GOD, but in the times of trouble I have been as it were driven to Him for comfort & the impressions made at such times have more or less remained uneffaced in after years. Indeed a large proportion of my life has been passed in anxiety & trouble from one cause or another, & in looking back I find reason to bless GOD it has been so. This may seem a strange avowel from one who would be regarded by strangers with I suppose, as a happy prosperous man, with ample fortune & eight children all I have reason to hope, well disposed & agreeable, & with a very kind & affectionate sister-in-law who performs the part of a Mother towards them.

But nevertheless the fact is as I have stated, and I am to believe that this is consonant with the experience of most men. I am therefore willing to receive whatever painful dispensations it may please GOD to send, not only with submission, but with cheerfulness as needful correction sent in by gracious parent for my true welfare.


Note by Elizabeth Barton (Aunt Lizzie): "Our dear father died on the 10th March 1852".