"Memoirs of the Hartley Family of Bingley and Staveley,  Yorkshire"
by Minnie Growse (1864-1939),

Foreward
Introduction
Page 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Low Hall
Notes
Hartley, Staveley
Hartley, Bingley

memoirs Continued 2

Now James thought this a very nice match for himself and did no   doubt think the lady's purse had a silver lining - but how to compass   the affair?  She no doubt lived in some state and would expect it to go   on if she married.  Well, first impressions count most.  James ordered   out the huge old yellow barouche to be cleaned and done up, and then the   footmen.  Well James farmed his own glebe, so he did not lack for men   and a little training for himself could soon make Hodge a good footman.  Very soon this was done and either one or two men were arrayed in a very   fine livery, I think of blue and yellow.  I think old James* looks and-;  charm and masterfulness must have carried this lady right off her feet,  for sure it is he won her, and my first cousins still have the perfectly  beautiful large picture of her dressed in flowing draperies of exquisite  blue, her sunny brown hair to the fore and her sweet aristocratic face  pale and attractive.

I do not know how long James managed to keep her.  But she bore him no children and seems to have passed on peacefully leaving just the Blue Lady" as the family call her, to tell of her sojourn here.  Perhaps those footmen behind the barouche helped to win her.

My great grandfather was agent to the Slingsbys, an ancient cavalier family who were large estate owners in Yorkshire.  I think he took on the work for love of the Slingsbys who were his friends and no doubt his active mind needed more scope than wee Staveley gave him.  Once a week James paid all estate workers and weighed out the money each man had earned, and by the door of the room where this happened, stood a man with a loaded pistol to offer timely aid in case of need.

When James handed over the living to my grandfather Richard in 1820 he retired into a nice little house in the village - a farm house really, which belonged to the Slingsbys.  There he lived in peace and comfort and no doubt, like Uncle Toby in Tristram Shandy fought his battles over again and remembered, among other things, the famous divine John Wesley who had preached for him.  How the congregation was so great that the church could not hold it all and the church service had to be held in the churchyard and so on...

Well James had a wonderful old factotum called Nannie and she rejoiced in a village sweetheart called Bill.  James retired rather early to seek repose - leaving the coast clear for Bill and Nannie to indulge love s young dream.  James knew nothing of these nightly visits.  I suppose poor Bill and Nannie were too frightened of "Stern old Parson", as James had now been designated, to disclose themselves.  So the lights being out and Nannie supposed to be taking her well-earned rest, Bill used to creep silently in and have a happy pow-wow with his love.  One night as usual, this happened when James upstairs being wakeful, was sure he heard a burglar.  Now the Hartleys had then a lot of lovely old silver and I suppose James still had much of this and was determined to save it and catch the burglar, so putting on his dressing gown and bedroom slippers he crept softly down the stairs.  Bill was hiding in the pitch darkness and hearing the swish of skirts and a soft footfall - thinks his hour of bliss has arrived - so flings his young strong arms round "old Parson s  neck, passionately kisses his neck or more probably his lips and exclaims fervently "Ah Nannie I looves yer".  Now old Parson was himself a thorough sport, for he exclaims in answering broad Yorkshire "Na Na Lad, thou s gotten hold of owd Parson".  Poor old Bill, I can imagine his misery, but I really think our "Owd Parson" was a sport and I am sure he had great pleasure in restoring poor Bill with a pint of beer after his shattering experience.  I am proud of old parson for at least attempting to catch a burglar alone and single-handed and in the dark.  He was too, evidently. full of sympathy for Bill and Nannie for had he not been a great lover himself and won his blue lady?

Old Parson was gathered at last and no doubt greatly mourned. He had been a fine friend and helper as well as guardian of souls.  My Uncle James Hartley, his son, was a solicitor living in London and had a practice among important folk and was well off, and my grandfather Richard had been to Clare College, Cambridge (I do not know to which college old Parson had been there) and was ready to carry on as Rector of Staveley in his father's shoes.  (Note 3).  He was, I gather, an entirely different type from his father, very handsome, not too tall - but hugely broad and powerful - his temper was in accordance with his body - I fear, rather quick a violent.  I think he was very much given to hospitality and good living and entertaining, and was popular in the neighbourhood.  My Aunt Charlotte (bless her), his only surviving daughter, used to look at a beautiful little water-colour of him when at Cambridge in a blue silk coat, and remark, "Ah, poor Papa, the handsomest man I ever saw and everyone says I am the image of him." Richard Hartley:;

Richard married Jane Bishop my grandmother - the greatest contrast to himself he could have chosen.  She was small and dainty and dark, with lovely big brown eyes with bright colouring and dark brown hair.  Grandfather was huge and fair with blue eyes - a regular Saxon.  Grandmother took the most tiny shoe - a joy to the old village cobbler.  He had "Never seen nowt like it".  She liked a yellow (taffeta I suppose) for her dinner dress - and I heard from my old Aunt, used to look lovely in it.

My Father and all the family loved her so, and Uncle Henry used to tell me how, on Sunday, these boys of hers used to stand in front of the pretty mother while she sprinkled their hankies with eau-de-cologne, or was it lavender water?  When they were rampageous and naughty, she used to take out a hankie, no doubt very dainty, and shake it at them, saying "Oh you naughty naughty boys."

She had nine or ten sons, my Father being the ninth, and as she grew weak and worn out and frail, these big strong men used to carry her about everywhere.  She is buried in the huge grave in Staveley churchyard, and there is in the middle of the enclosure a rather nice monument with just - "Jesu Mercy" - on it..  This she especially desired.

She must have been gentle and sweet as a lily - and I know the Pilot of tired souls carried her tenderly over.  I always wish I had seen her.  R.I.P,

Poor Richard the youngest would be a sailor.  I fancy grand-father could not afford the Navy for him, so he joined the Merchant Service at eighteen and was drowned on his first voyage.   My little grandmother used to sit in the Rectory window, watching and hoping, for surely her strong fine boy must be coming back.  He sailed under a Captain called Jesse Dickson - curiously my dear brother Richard Hartley, a chaplain in the Navy, sailed with an officer of this name, and a nephew of the previous Jesse Dickson on his maiden voyage.  He told him that he hoped they would be more fortunate than their namesakes. Actually, Richard Hartley refused to abandon the ship but insisted upon remaining on the bridge with the Captain.

Poor Nathaniel died of T.B. when he was only about seventeen, a fine fellow, as he was six foot when only fifteen,  His grandparents had gone (by coach of course) to visit my great grandfather Mr. Bishop. The sons were left at home in charge of a resident tutor.  They begun their education so, and then went on to school and Cambridge, if thought best.  Well poor Uncle Nathaniel played truant, being terribly keen on sport, especially hunting and one day ran after the hounds all day, probably without food.  He arrived home soaked to the skin, and no doubt worn out.  This wicked tutor kept him in his soaking clothes and made him do his lessons.   I suppose they, the garments, dried on him.  He caught an awful cold which turned  and that was the end of poor Nathaniel.

George, poor fellow, fell down the steps at the back of the Rectory and injured his back - I fear he suffered badly and then died.

I think Grandfather Richard found the old Rectory too small for his huge family.  My Grandmother had private means, as her people, the Bishops, were rich folk, so Richard built an enormous new Rectory with thirty rooms in it.  It lay four square, was built of grey stone, and had an overhanging roof " a handsome flight of steps to the front door, and a fine porch, a welcome change to its plain solid face.  There is a very big hall and a broad staircase with shallow steps, and a wide landing runs all round the bedrooms - and from there one looks over the railing into the hall.  The effect is very unusual and charming.  Moat of the bedrooms are arranged in threes - a dressing room in the middle and a big bedroom on each side making a suite in case of illness, or single rooms, or a room and dressing rooms in the middle, and a big bedroom on each side, as there are of course doors between.  There is a charming dining room and drawing room and a big study and a very big breakfast room and parish room, a large servants' hall and palatial kitchen.  The cellars. are wonderful - like big rooms.  Here all the beer was brewed.  Here a whole poor beast was hung up to be used, as needed, and so on.  My grand-father farmed his own glebe and had the farm men to feed in the servants hall.  It must have been rather like feudal times.  He had blood horses, and was, by nature, more a country gentleman than a parson.

He built a new church, the present one (note 4).  Aunt Charlotte used to recall how, when the hymns were due, the old sexton used to come under the pulpit and strike some weird' instrument with his tuning fork  to begin the music.  He rendered the lines, of course, in his native broad tongue, such as "Awark my sawl",

Aunt Charlotte was a great horsewoman, and I think she was very pretty, and I know, charming.  (All the other girls had died as babies).

On one occasion when her parents were off to London she asked Richard to forbid Nat to play with gunpowder, of which she was terrified, so grandfather forbade him and she was happy.  A while after his parents had left, Nat called her into the flower garden, and asked her to stand on a certain spot (there were two fine lawns).  He said, "I Just want to show you something Char."  She saw him stooping down and wondered.  Soon  there was a terrible bang and high leaping flames, making a circle all round Aunt Char., for naughty Nathaniel had laid a trail of gunpowder right round her.  Veil, well, boys will be boys, and even as an aged  lady Aunt Charlotte loved to tell this story of Nat's revenge.

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