Michael Heath-Caldwell M.Arch
Brisbane, Queensland
ph: 0412-78-70-74
alt: m_heath_caldwell@hotmail.com
Hannah Caldwell (ne Armstrong) - to 1794
Margaret Skerrett (ne Caldwell) - 44/45
Anne Caldwell of Nantwich - 35/36
Elizabeth Caldwell (Bessy) of Nantwich - 27/28 - Sisters of James Caldwell
Hannah Stamford of Nantwich - 40/41 - Elizabeth Caldwell's sister
James Caldwell of Nantwich – aged 34 going on 35 - Moves to Linley Wood this year
Elizabeth Caldwell of Nantwich – aged 40
Hannah Caldwell (later Roscoe) – aged 9
Stamford Caldwell – aged 7
Mary Caldwell – aged 5
Anne Marsh-Caldwell – aged 3
Margaret Emma Caldwell (later Holland) – aged 2
Catherine L. Caldwell – born this year (born 6th June 1794)
Caldwell 4/6 January 1794
Montpelier.
Messrs Peakes
Newcastle, 4th January 1794
Sometime after I purchased the Estate called Montpelier from the Trustees of Mr Lawton, I requested the Honour of you to search the Rolls for Judgments that might be entered up against him from April 1773, the date of his Purchase Deed, to December 1778, the date of the Conveyance to Messrs Bate and Yoxall the Trustees; when you informed me by the letter which I send herewith, of among others, one at the suit of Samuel Hooker in Michaelmas Term 1777 in the Kings Bench without it appearing for what sum.
On application being made to Mr Lawton, I was informed that he never had executed any Warrant of Attorney to, or had any transaction with any person of that name; on which Assurance I rested satisfied, concluding that there must have been some mistake as that such Judgment was against some other John Lawton.
But as I have lately laid out, and am still laying out considerable sums of money in building and other improvements on this Estate, which I mean to make my residence, I wish to do away if possible the shadow of doubt upon the silly, and I shall therefore be obliged by your searching the Rolls again from the time of the purchase to that of the next Deeds.
This I apprehend will be sufficient; as I presume, that Judgments entered up against Mr Lawton before he purchased, or after he conveyed his Estate to [Churley?] could not affect an intermediate purchaser, but this I submit to you. From searching the Treasury Roll you find Hookers [Hockers?] Judgment regularly docketed, the Attorney’s name will of course appear ( by his Entry in the Office of the Clerk of the Judgment).
By a cautious reference to whom you may easily learn whether this Judgment is against John Lawton of Lawton. The Judgment entered up in 1775 is accompanied by a Grant out of the Estates and this Annuity is now regularly paid.
The other Annuities of 50 and 100 to Bigg and Broomhead have always been represented to me as secured only by Bonds and Judgment, on which Mr Lawton has been taken, vis now charged with a Ca.Sa.
But in case of the death of Mr Lawton in Execution, could any other Execution be afterwards sued out against my Estate? You will recollect that it was bona fide purchased under a Deed for the benefit of payment of creditors, which seems to bring it completely within - - [word rubbed out] the Proviso in the Act of James the First I shall esteem myself much obliged by your early and careful attentions to this business, as it has cost me some uneasiness and should you think it necessary to take the Advice of, or lay the papers before Counsel, I wish you to do it.
I have sent the papers with Mr Atherton’s opinions and the Draft of the Conveyance as executed to me, which will make you compleat masters of the whole case. No Sum being specified in the Entry of Hooker’s Judgment, would this affect a purchaser? Please to search the Treasury Roll in each of the Courts as far as you think needful, and it will perhaps be right to see what Executions are taken out against Mr Lawton.
I am
Dear Sir,
Sincerely yours.
James Caldwell
PS. I shall be obliged by a line as soon as possible.
Letter of 1794 addressed from Thomas Deake
Single
Mr Caldwell, Attorney at Law
Newcastle
Staffordshire.
5
Mr Caldwell
D of – Bgs 16 January 1794
We have searched the Kings Bench Common Pleas and Exchequer from 1772 to 1778 both inclusive and cannot find any more Judgments against Mr Lawton than what we informed you of before.
We have found at your Inrolment Office an Inrolment in 1778 of a Deed dated in March 1775 [X] whereby Mr Lawton granted to Mr Broomhead an annuity of 100L to be issuing out of his land in the Parishes of Lawton and Bartomley in the County of Chester and Wolstanton in the Court of Stafford, as the [living?] Act did not commence till 1777 it certainly was not necessary to enroll the Deed of 1775, the above annuity is also secured by Judgment.
We have also found the enrolment of an annuity of 100L granted by Mr Lawton to Mr Broomhead in 1777 and another annuity of 50L granted in 1777 to Mr Biggs; both these last mentioned annuities are secured by Bonds and Judgments only. We cannot find out any name of Hookers Attorney till the Term [Robert?]
Thomas Deake
We will make an effort to find only a name of Hooker’s Attorney
[X] Entered in the King’s Bench in 1775 for 1200L debt 63/- damages
31 August 1794
On this day I returned from Nantwich, where I had been since Thursday last for the purpose of avoiding the Hurry necessarily attending a removal from one Habitation to another, and took possession of our Dwelling at Linley Wood.
The pains that had been taken to provide for my comfortable reception was the first consideration which struck my mind, and called forth all that lively gratitude and affection, which never fails to animate our Hearts, on receiving proofs of Kindness and attention from those whom we esteem & love.
A spontaneous prayer to the Author of all Happiness proceeded from my Lips, that she, my Eliza, the Source and partner of all my earthly Bliss, might here herself enjoy, those pure and perfect pleasures, which to refined & virtuous Minds a Country Life is so fitted to afford, and for which in the bustling scenes which we have quitted she had expressed many an ardent wish.
Not for herself alone, but equally for me. For me, who through ten years
[entry not completed]
From the diary of his daughter Anne Marsh-Caldwell, it would appear that James moved his family to Linley Wood around August 1794. In fact he may have moved earlier as he had actually bought a significant part of the Linley Wood estate in 1789 and also he let No 3 King Street to John Martin in 1789. It would appear that Linley Wood had a house of some sort up on the hill in 1789 but that soon afterwards James Caldwell built his Georgian mansion known as Linley Hall. Over time he extended the size of the Linley Wood estate by buying up neighbouring farms as the opportunities arose. Through his wife Elizabeth he also came to own an estate near Derby (Cannon Hills, Quarndon).
James is mentioned in the book "The Wedgwood Circle" where in 1794, he is described as being Josiah Wedgwood's lawyer and, together with Josiah's eldest son, was the executor of Josiah's last will. Josiah's complete will is printed in the book "Life of Josiah Wedgwood" by Llewellynn Jewett, 1865. Josiah leaves to James "the sum of £100 which I desire he will accept as testimony of my friendship and esteem for him".
1794
Septr, Saturday 20: The Morning very stormy & wet. Spent the greatest part of it in Business. & writing opinions upon two Titles. Read the life of Drake contained in a Volume of Miscellaneous & fugutive pieces, of which I believe Johnson was the Editor, & Writer of this Article. Curious fact related in it of Thomas Doughtie, who having been sentenced to Death for a conspiracy against the
Memoirs of Anne Marsh-Caldwell
I was born at Newcastle-under-Lyne in Staffordshire on the 9th of January 1791. Life begins to dawn upon my memory in a few uncertain sketches, as it were; and the first thing I can remember must be, I think, finding myself in a hack chaise with a worthy old couple named Mr. and Mrs. Martin who were taking me to Nantwich to pay a visit to my Grand-Mamma. This must have been about May or June 1794 when I was little past three years old. I had a basket with some raisins and good things in it, I suppose as a provision by my best and sweetest of mothers for her little Anne upon this long journey – and old Mr. Martin pretended to steal them, which distressed me very much – I see him now in his brown wig – and the inside of the chaise – I on a little stool, Mrs. Martin bolt upright in the corner.
I have only detached recollections of my visit to my Grand-Mamma – she lived in a black and white timbered house at the end of the Hospital Street, at the back of which there was a garden. The hall was paved with squares of stone and had a handsome mahogany door – or rather, I think, large handsome black door with an old-fashioned knocker – and a handsome pair of stairs with rich mahogany banisters led down to this hall.
There was a glass door from the hall into the garden and a little old-fashioned window with small panes set in lead which looked into the garden, on which there always stood some plants. A passage led along by the glass door to the kitchen, which was all paved like the hall – and the floor of it kept as white and as clean as it was possible to be.
Through the kitchen you went into a back kitchen all as clean as a drawing-room, and into the garden by another way through a sort of back yard, all as neat as possible – and here was a large apricot tree which grew up as high as the two-storey chimney – and used to be covered with apricots, though not fine ones.
When you went into this garden by the little glass door you came first upon a paved walk with a grass plot upon one side, on which stood a fine Weymouth pine. The ground rose from this grass plot and ended in shrubbery, the outer tree of which was a magnificent plane (tree ?) which stretched its branches far and wide over a large handsome green seat or large garden chair. The paved walk terminated in the handsome steps which carried you into the garden.
The garden consisted of one splendid broad gravel walk bordered on each side by a narrowish flowerbed full of low shrubs such as …(unreadable) .. lauristinus and rose trees and flowers and edged with a hedge of thick box. Behind these borders were the vegetables and fruit trees. I do not remember being so enchanted with the beauty of this garden upon this visit as I afterwards was, so I suppose I was too little to enjoy beauty of this kind, though it seems to me as if there was never a time that I did not enjoy natural beauty in the most exquisite degree – and that the younger I was the more exquisitely delicious were my sensations – that sense of exquisite delight has long been much deadened within me.
My Grand-Mamma was I believe a very small woman – but to me she seemed a tall lady in a black gown and white cap and handkerchief, who had something that even then seemed to me very like a lady about her. Her gown was always a rich black silk – and seems to me as if she was always as neat and as much in nice order as if she had been a princess – and it is certain that a queen with all her attendants could not have had every corner and every article in more precise and exact order than she had.
I suppose she had two servants, but I only remember one, Hannah Dodd, a strong built, strong featured woman who had her hair turned up over a roll and wore a high peaked cap such as one sees in old cuts and an open gown and stiff stays that looked as if they were made of wood. She had been brought up in my Grand-Mamma’s house and was like one of the family; she was cook. Housekeeper, manager – rather more than was quite comfortable sometimes, but devoted, faithful, and careful housewife, careful nurse; in short, one of them entirely.
I had two unmarried aunts living with my Grand-Mamma, Aunt Anne and Aunt Bessy. I do not remember Aunt Anne at all during that visit, but I do Aunt Bessy – liking her because I thought her so pretty and she wore pretty gowns – she must have been about twenty five or twenty six. All my recollections of this visit consists of little detached scenes impressed in the most lively manner upon my memory, the rest is nothing.
By the bye, speaking of memory – I could not have come to mine till this year , ’94, for the year before I was with Mary *(an eldest sister), Mrs Noble and Miss Willet at Linley Wood during the Terror – it would have made an impression if my mind could have received it – and I seem to have been a lively quick child at the time – at least Miss Willet used to tell stories of what I said and did as if I had amused her – such as begging Jonathan the coachman not to go away and leave me with “that great bear” – meaning her! But I have often since tested my memory for some recollections of this visit – I cannot find the slightest trace of it.
To return to my brief but vivid recollections of those early days; I used to sit on a little stool at Grand-Mamma’s feet. I remember her sending me across the room one day “to tell that girl” meaning Aunt Bessy – “to uncross her legs!” I remember following her (Grand-Mamma) into the back kitchen often… (she had ‘the gravel’, I believe – and I heard her father suffered dreadfully from it in his old age.) Her maiden name was Armstrong; her father was, I believe a stay-maker; a very remarkable man he was thought for sense and love of literature.
She had been very handsome – they say she and my Grand-Papa Caldwell were the handsomest couple almost ever seen in Nantwich. I never saw him; he died after suffering two years from a dreadful nervous complaint aggravated, I suspect, by the harsh treatment adopted in those days as the proper method with these.
My Grand-Mamma had been the mother of 13 children, of which four only grew up; Aunt Sheret, the eldest, my Aunt Anne, my father, and my Aunt Bessy, seven years younger than was the youngest child. Of these children three, I think, died of putrid sore throat. It must have been ill understood in those days. Most of the others appear to have died as infants.
There were, I think, three Jameses before my father – who had been a most beautiful child with long curling flaxen hair and was made a perfect idol by his mother. I don’t suppose my Grand-Mamma had been very happy – my Mother at least used to say “She never wished to have her daughters married – though she was glad enough to see her son married – meaning she did not care so much how it befel other people’s daughters.
I remember going with Grand-Mamma through the little glass door and seeing Miss Sheret (Skerrett) coming out of the garden with a green watering pot in her hand – the watering pot was little and green and I thought it very pretty – but though Miss Sheret (Skerrett) was little I could not bear her, for she wore a dull coloured buff striped gown with a plain cap and was not pretty; had a stayed look and a red nose – and I quite felt an uncomfortable sensation when I looked at her.
I remember a poor Miss Lerversage who had had her face all deformed and burned by a dreadful accident of fire coming to call on Grand-Mamma. Before she came, Grand-Mamma related the story and told me not to stare at her, as it would be very unpleasant to her. I understood it all just as well as I should now and I had the self-command hardly once to look at her. They praised me afterwards for this. It does not seem to me that I felt anything the least like love or affection for any of them in those days.
I used to sleep in a little bed in the corner of Grand-Mamma’s room. One morning nobody came to get me up. Grand-Mamma was very sick and Hannah was by her bed-side with a basin giving her things. After some time – it seemed to me an age – they got me up, but I remember nothing but that picture. I in my little bed, Grand-Mamma sick and Hannah with a basin by her bed-side – I suppose it was her last illness.
I suppose they took me out of her room and put me to sleep in a certain bed with red curtains with Hannah. I remember a sensation of which I always think when I read in the Bible “A horror of great darkness fell upon Absolem” – I lost myself in that bed – I suppose I was restless – but I felt as much lost in the bed as if I had been in the desert – and my feeling of horror was as if now I were lost in the dark in an immense Cathedral.
For years after I perfectly well recollect it being a sort of trial of courage with us to “go through the bed” as we called it – that is, go down under the cover and come out through the bottom. Children seem to have an instinctive horror of darkness and of being smothered. People have no idea of the terrors little children suffer, and the cruelty in this respect is generally great and no doubt often shakes the nerves for life.
I remember a picture of being in the hall and seeing Papa standing; he was come to see his mother. This is the first recollection I have of him, a tall beautiful young man to whose knee I reached, in a blue coat, gilt buttons and leathers and boots – it seemed to me as if I stared up at him but he took no notice of me – but I find in his letters that he says “Our little Anne is a charming child” – but says that the scene was too melancholy for her and she had better return home… I don’t remember feeling love for him.
My next picture; I am at Newcastle creeping into a room where there is a large bed with green curtains, our Nannie’s bed, and under the curtain is a cot and a little baby – this is Louisa (Born 6th June 1794).
Two or three more pictures I have of Newcastle; Mr Lloyd, a bald man in a snuff coloured suit, my father’s clerk, and his office… A startling scene in the kitchen – Absolem the manservant whom I hated and Sally, a saucy girl of a maid whom I hated too, catching Stamford * (her only brother, afterwards owner of Linley Wood ), and Absolem putting his head between his knees and tugging his flaxen short curly locks till he screamed – Sally encouraging him – my very blood curdles with horror at this cruelty and indignation – and running screaming away with all my might. It is strange Stamford has not the slightest recollection of this scene. I am convinced, however, that boy was often treated with cruelty…
I remember sitting at supper, bread and milk upstairs, and Mary going down to ask for more bread – and they would not give her any, and her running away with a piece of brown loaf and coming still alive to us – and my mingled terror and delight at the feat… And sitting painting, or rather trying to paint with a feather while the three elder had brushes… Many such little things made an impression upon me that I was always to come off second best, which has been useful to me in life – where I have often had to come off second best.
I remember walking with Papa and Mama down the Etruria road – and Eliza and Stamford running on a race before us – and my father remarking what an awkward girl Eliza was and would be, as she was throwing up her legs behind her. I remember great talk of Mr Wedgewood’s carriage being overturned on Etruria Hill – and I remember being at Etruria and looking over the hills beyond and wondering what would come behind those… and Miss Sarah Wedgewood in a pale blue habit and small black hat playing on the organ to us as we danced in a ring in the large drawing room – does not this sound incredible?
I remember one fine Sunday evening hanging out of the dining-room window with Emma, one year younger, looking at Beeches the tailor or shoemaker, I forget which, and Papa calling to us to take care we did not tumble out – this is my first recollection of Emma. And I remember Matt – he used to look as black as a negro, with rough black hair, and made horrid noises – he lived by himself in a horrid little hut in a row on the outskirts of the town –
I remember a walk one Sunday with Mama and Stamford, and his asking her how we should go on at Linley Wood – this must be just before we changed here – I see the walk as clear as if it were yesterday, by Sir Nigel Grisley’s canal and some stunted willow trees which are not there now.
And I remember a chaise at the door and all of us returning from a walk to take leave of Papa before he went to London, and Stamford teasing me to my inexpressible terror over Mr Byer’s great dog, who however did not devour me. I remember Papa bringing me a little Dunstable hat for my doll when he came back, and Emma a straw basket – and that is all I remember of Newcastle.
August 1794.
The next thing I find myself in the carriage, a very large handsome green carriage bought by my aunt and kept by her and my father in partnership, standing upon the seat, so little was I, with my doll’s unstable hat in my hand – with Mamma, the nurse and the baby – going down old Linley Lane from Talk-O’-The-Hill, almost the last time, I should think, ever carriage travelled it, for the new road was made soon after; it seems to me as if the carriage quite hung over the horses, so steep was the descent, and the oak branches met over the carriage and brushed against the windows – that is the picture I have of this narrow hollow way with its banks of yellow sand just where you leave what was then the sand-pit or quarry below the rock.
Linley was then a lone wild place – the fir wood with its dark yawning black mouth at the end of the terrace looked to me very awful. I remember running round the bow-window of the dining-room; it seemed very bare. Emma, I recollect, came from Nantwich that evening with my Aunt Stamford and Miss Noble, but I have no picture of their arrival; they had been left at Newcastle to take a dancing lesson at Mrs Robinson’s boarding-school. They came on two horses – Eliza, I think, on a pillion, Mary riding before another servant. She looked to me a great girl – she was then five years old.
Correspondence of James Caldwell
Page 113
[Page heading] September
General, & having his Choice offered him of either being executed on the Island, set on Shore on the Main Land, or being sent to England to be tried before the Council, after a days consideration, chose the first; and being . . .[astisrelated], obstinately deaf to all persuasion, and adhering obstinately to his first Choice, after having received the Communion and dined cheerfully with the General, was executed in the afternoon, with many signs of Remorse, but none of Fear.
In this Book is the following passage; "This perhaps a just Observation, that, with regard to outward Circumstances, Happiness and Misery are equally diffused through all States of human Life. In civilized Countries, where regular Policies have secured the Necessaries of Life, Ambition, Avarice, and Luxury, find the Mind at leisure for their reception, and soon engage it in new pursuits; Pursuits that are to be carried on by incessant labour, and whether vain or successful, produce Anxiety & Contention. Among savage Nations, imaginary wants find, indeed, no place but their strength is exhausted by necessary Toils, and their passions agitated not by Contests about Superiority, Affluence, or Precedence, but by perpetual Care, for the present day, and by fear of perishing for want of Food" p. 211.
Sunday 21:
Read for the first time the Service which I had compiled, or rather extracted, for the use of the Family, from a Book entitled the Universal Liturgy, printed for Millar in 1761.
[rest of page cut off]
Memoirs of Anne Marsh-Caldwell
Late 1794
I must go back … It was in the winter between ’94 and ’95 that my Father had a dreadful nervous illness in London, brought on by some anxiety in business which overwhelmed his spirits, too tender for conflict with the world, and my Mother, in the midst of a deep snow, set off with Mr Martin, who was my Father’s clerk when he was “in the profession,” * as used to be the term – to attend him. He suffered much, and I remember his describing the loads of disgusting green physic which he had to take.
This is the chief thing I do remember – and my Mother’s account of her journey – in those days it took two days and one night to reach London. She stopped at an inn in Daventry in the middle of the night in her post-chaise. The landlord gets up, comes to the window; “What is it? Coach and four? No. Gentleman’s carriage and pair? No. Chariot and four? No!” Pulls down the window and goes again to bed.
It was dark as they crossed Houndslow Heath. A man rides up and down near the carriage – the driver tells them if they have anything of value they had better conceal it. Mr Martin puts a guinea or two in his boot. The constant passing of one thing or another prevents the man carrying out his design into the execution, if designs he had, and he rode away. Houndslow Heath and Finchley Common were dreadful words to our imagination in those days.
This illness was the means of introducing to my Father Mr Perks and his father’s family. Old Perks was an old London solicitor, his son a young barrister, a very handsome, clever, and to our eyes, most elegant young gentleman. He came down to see my Father the next year, and always after for many years used to come from Stafford Assizes to see us. He went the Oxford circuit. He was sprightly, whimsical, intellectual, and his presence added much to our life at Linley. He was romantic and poetical and loved the place and its ways as well as the best of us.
All my Father’s friends doated on my Mother. The holy devoted love she bore to my Father was and must have been a source of the purist admiration and love to them. Mr Perks used to read aloud to my Mother in the little green breakfast room while she worked. He read one day out of Percy’s Reliques; “Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough and William of Cloudesley.’ And “Robin Hood and Little John.” How I enjoyed this – and what a pity, I now think it that I had not more of such impressions.
They would perhaps have been less lively had I enjoyed to abundance of the present day. It was when I was a very little child that I gave rather a startling proof of that power of correct reasoning which I think is the distinguishing faculty of my mind – by which I have, I think, often been led to discover truths and reject errors which I have afterwards had the satisfaction of finding acknowledged by the rest of mankind…
I recollect looking at my Father’s edition of Plutarch’s Lives; there were heads at the beginning of each life. I was looking at these pictures, I suppose. To my astonishment the first Life was that of Dryden – how came Dryden among all those Greeks and Romans? How could it be? I remember my perplexity distinctly. I was standing by when I heard Mr Perks say to my Mother, “Whose edition of Plutarch’s Lives is it that Mr Caldwell has? Is it Dryden’s?” the whole truth flashed into my mind as she answered that she did not know. “Yes, Sir,” said I, “It is Dryden’s.” Surprised, he exclaimed “And how do you know?” “Because his Life is at the beginning of the book – and at the other end of this book you will find some more before coming to Volume Two.”
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Heath-Caldwell All rights reserved.
Michael Heath-Caldwell M.Arch
Brisbane, Queensland
ph: 0412-78-70-74
alt: m_heath_caldwell@hotmail.com