Sandpit near Sudbury, Suffolk by Joshua Kirby (1716-1774)

Sarah Trimmer née Kirby (1741-1810), author, critic and educational reformer

Sarah Trimmer née Kirby, author, critic and religious and educational reformer, was born in 1741 at Ipswich, the only daughter of the Suffolk landscape painter Joshua Kirby (a close friend of Thomas Gainsborough) and his wife Sarah née Bell. The Kirby family, including Sarah’s younger brother, William moved to London in 1755 where Joshua Kirby tutored the Prince of Wales (the future George III) in perspective.

Sarah Kirby (née Bull) and her husband (John) Joshua Kirby by Thomas Gainsborough, c.1751-52. © National Portrait Gallery, London
Sarah Kirby (née Bull) and her husband (John) Joshua Kirby by Thomas Gainsborough, c.1751-52. © National Portrait Gallery, London

Many well-known personalities of the day counted the Kirbys as friends, including William Hogarth and Samuel Johnson and, as befitted the daughter of an artist, and one with social connections to the best artistic and literary talents of the day, Sarah later had her portrait painted three times, by Henry Howard, George Romney and Thomas Lawrence. She herself was a talented amateur artist, and several miniatures by her survive.

Sarah Trimmer by Sir Thomas Lawrence, c.1790. © National Portrait Gallery, London
Sarah Trimmer by Sir Thomas Lawrence, c.1790. © National Portrait Gallery, London

In time, the family moved to Kew when Joshua Kirby was appointed Clerk to the Works of the Royal Household at Kew Palace and it was at Kew that Sarah met her future husband, James Trimmer whose family owned a brick making business at Brentford; the young couple married on 21st September 1762, at Ealing. The notice of their marriage in the Ipswich Journal reveals the name by which Sarah was known to her family.

MARRIAGE – At Great Ealing, Mr. James Trimmer, of Brentford, to Miss Sally Kirby, of the Chapelry of Kew.

A View of the Palace at Kew from the Lawn, in the Royal Gardens at Kew, 1763. This plate was engraved after Joshua Kirby for William Chambers’s Plans, Elevations, Sections and Perspective Views of the Gardens and Buildings at Kew, published in 1763 and dedicated to the Dowager Princess of Wales.
A View of the Palace at Kew from the Lawn, in the Royal Gardens at Kew, 1763. This plate was engraved after Joshua Kirby for William Chambers’s Plans, Elevations, Sections and Perspective Views of the Gardens and Buildings at Kew, published in 1763 and dedicated to the Dowager Princess of Wales. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2017

The Trimmers had twelve children in all, equally divided between boys and girls and – as she was responsible for their education – Sarah, both a mother and a teacher, discovered a lifelong passion for education. She founded the first Sunday school for poor children in 1786 and began to write and publish books, initially treatises on how to establish Sunday schools with a sub-text of social reform and then branching out into instructive works and fiction for children, such as her Fabulous Histories. She also reviewed children’s literature in her periodical, The Guardian of Education, with the aim of influencing both authors and publishers and redefining the content of these books.

She used to say, that as soon as she became a mother, her thoughts were turned so entirely to the subject of education, that she scarcely read a book upon any other topic, and believed she almost wearied her friends by making it so frequently the subject of conversation. Having experienced the greatest success in her plan of educating her own family, she naturally wished to extent that blessing to others, and this probably first induced her to become an author.

After James Trimmer died in 1792, Sarah and her unmarried daughters moved to Brentford, and it was there that she died on 15th December 1810, in the act of writing a letter.

Sarah Trimmer by Henry Howard, c.1798. © National Portrait Gallery, London
Sarah Trimmer by Henry Howard, c.1798. © National Portrait Gallery, London

She had been known to fall asleep at her desk in her study, and so when her daughters found her, with her head bowed forward onto her bosom, they assumed she merely slumbering and it was some time before they could be made to believe that she was dead. This gave rise to a few ‘Chinese whispers’ which were reported in the newspapers, with a slightly more lurid take on poor Sarah’s demise.

MRS TRIMMER – This authoress died under circumstances of a peculiar nature. Having received intelligence of the death of a favourite sister, she sat down to write a letter of condolence to her family; but soon after, on her female servant going into the room, she found her mistress sitting, apparently in the utmost composure, with her pen in one hand, and her head reclining on the other; in this attitude it appears that she died. What added to the singularity of this extraordinary occurrence was, that although she had been dead three weeks, her countenance had not changed in the least, and in consequence her relatives had directed that no interment should take place, in the hope (a vain one, it is feared) that the body might be recovered from a trance.

Sarah had no sister, favourite or otherwise, and her sister-in-law – and her brother – had both died some years previously. She was buried on the 5th January 1811, in a family plot in St Mary’s churchyard, Ealing, the delay between her death and burial probably being more to do with the weather and the season rather than any fanciful notions supposed to have been entertained by the children of such an eminently sensible, moral and instructive mother.

Portrait of Sarah Trimmer by George Romney (1734-1802). Image taken from Illustrated Catalogue of the Fifth Series of 100 Paintings by Old Masters, being a portion of the Sedelmeyer Gallery, Paris, 1899.
Portrait of Sarah Trimmer by George Romney (1734-1802). Image taken from Illustrated Catalogue of the Fifth Series of 100 Paintings by Old Masters, being a portion of the Sedelmeyer Gallery, Paris, 1899.

One of Sarah’s daughters, at least, followed in her footsteps; her daughter Selina was appointed by the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire to be the governess to their daughters and their cousins, including the future Lady Caroline Lamb. You can read more about Selina and her life as a governess in the Cavendish household here, in a blog post by Lauren Gilbert.

 

Sources not mentioned above:

Ipswich Journal, 25th September 1762

Chester Chronicle, 1st February 1811

Chalmer’s General Biographical Dictionary, volume 30

Brentford High Street Project: The Trimmer family

 

Featured image:

Sandpit near Sudbury, Suffolk by Joshua Kirby (1716-1774)

Martha Gunn (1726-1815), Brighton 'dipper'

Martha Gunn – Brighton Celebrity

We’re not quite sure that Martha’s claim to fame would work in today’s celebrity culture, for Martha, who was born Martha Killick daughter of Friend and Anne Killick in 1726 (baptized 19 September 1731) , was a ‘dipper‘. Much has been written about her already, but we thought we would add a few extra bits.

'A Calm' by James Gillray (1810).
‘A Calm’ by James Gillray (1810). Courtesy of Princeton University Library

What was a ‘dipper’? Well, in the 1700 and early 1800s doctors would recommend that people bath in sea water to restore their health. Needless to say this concept was terrifying for many, so in places such as Brighton people were employed as ‘dippers‘.

Huts on wheels, like the one below were used to allow the bather to protect their modesty, the bather would climb into the hut, change into their swimming attire, the machine was then pulled by dippers into the sea. Dippers were also expected to ensure that people were not swept away by the current, arguably like a modern day lifeguard, so they would need to be very strong.

Bathing machine at Weymouth
Weymouth

This occupation in itself was never going to give Martha celebrity status, but her royal connection to the Prince of Wales, later George IV, did. She was a favourite of his and apparently enjoyed special privileges including free access to the kitchen at the Royal Pavilion.

The portrait of her below, is reputed to show Martha holding the Prince of Wales as a small child, however, this is not feasible as  the Prince did not visit Brighton until September 7th, 1783, he was 21. So despite the annotation at the top of the painting this must have been added at a later stage.

Todd’s print catalogue of 1799 simply described the painting as being with an unnamed child

There was also another copy of the piece produced by William Nutter which is now held by The Met, dated 1797. It does not state that the child was the Prince of Wales, but that the original was in his possession and this one was dedicated to the Prince of Wales.

V0017100 Martha Gunn, a Brighton bather holding a small child that she has just saved from drowning.
Coloured engraving by W. Nutter, 1797, after J. Russell.
1797 By: John Russellafter: William NutterPublished: 1 June 1797

It also appeared in the following catalogue which confirmed the artist to be John Russell – ‘A catalogue of all the capital and valuable finished and unfinished original works of the distinguished artist, John Russell, Esq. R.A where it was to be sold along with other paintings by Mr. Christie on February 14th, 1807.

Martha Gunn and the Prince of Wales by John Russell
Martha Gunn and the Prince of Wales by John Russell; Brighton and Hove Museums and Art Galleries
The Prince of Wales, afterwards George IV born 1762 and Mrs Gunn

Martha was a large and strong woman and was well respected by the town and she even featured in the caricature below.

A scene at Brighton; some Frenchmen have landed on the beach; others are in broad clumsy boats which have left French men-of-war. In the foreground old women and yokels are dealing with the invaders. A woman resembling Martha Gunn, the bathing-woman, trampling on prostrate bodies, holds out at arm's length a kicking French soldier. Courtesy of British Museum
A scene at Brighton; some Frenchmen have landed on the beach; others are in broad clumsy boats which have left French men-of-war. In the foreground old women and yokels are dealing with the invaders. A woman resembling Martha Gunn, the bathing-woman, trampling on prostrate bodies, holds out at arm’s length a kicking French soldier. Courtesy of British Museum

She died in May 1815 and was buried in the local churchyard.

Hampshire Chronicle, 15th May 1815

Long after her death a plaque was added to the house where she and her family lived.

Plaque on the Brighton house where Martha Gunn lived. It says: Martha Gunn 1727-1815, the original bathing woman lived here.

Featured Image

British School; Martha Gunn (1726-1815); Brighton and Hove Museums and Art Galleries

Charlectote Park from Morris's Picturesque Views of Seats of the Noblemen and Gentlemen of Great Britain and Ireland, 1880.

Mary Elizabeth Williams’ marriage to George Hammond Lucy of Charlecote Park, 1823

On 2nd December 1823, the young Mary Elizabeth Williams, fourth daughter of John Williams, Baronet of Bodelwyddan in north Wales, married George Hammond Lucy, the eligible new owner of the magnificent Charlecote Park in Warwickshire.

Mary had been reluctant to accept George’s proposal; she thought him too old (Mary was not quite 20-years of age and her suitor was 34) and – besides – her elder sister Margaret (Miggie) was in love with him. But accept him she did, and he sealed their betrothal by placing a turquoise ring on her finger. During their short courtship and amid the whirlwind of preparing for the wedding, Mary quickly came to like and then to love her new husband.

Mary Elizabeth Williams (1803-1890), Mrs George Hammond Lucy by Richard Buckner, 1847; National Trust, Charlecote Park;
Mary Elizabeth Williams (1803-1890), Mrs George Hammond Lucy by Richard Buckner, 1847; National Trust, Charlecote Park

On the day, Mary wore a bridal robe of snow-white silk and a lace veil, the ‘texture fine as a spider’s web’ falling over her carefully arranged hair which was decorated with orange blossoms. She was attended by six bridesmaids, her four sisters and two friends, all dressed simply in white cashmere with their bonnets lined with pink, Mary’s favourite colour. A whole fleet of carriages took the bridal party to St Asaph Cathedral where the ceremony – by special licence – was to take place.

All was perfect, and Mary and her new husband knelt at the altar as they were pronounced man and wife but, when she tried to stand, Mary fainted and fell to the ground, much to George’s consternation. She was soon recovered however, and left the church for her honeymoon, her uncle’s seat at Cerig Llwydion. The bridesmaids threw old satin shoes at the carriage as the Lucy’s departed, for good luck.

George Hammond Lucy (1789-1845), MP by Friedrich von Amerling, 1841; National Trust, Charlecote Park;
George Hammond Lucy (1789-1845), MP by Friedrich von Amerling, 1841; National Trust, Charlecote Park

Mary’s wedding dress survives, and it was made in the height of fashion.

Detail of the white silk wedding dress worn by Mary Elizabeth Williams when she married George Hammond Lucy on 2 December 1823.
Detail of the white silk wedding dress worn by Mary Elizabeth Williams when she married George Hammond Lucy on 2 December 1823.

As you can see, the detailing on the bodice of the gown is very similar to one shown in Ackermann’s Repository, dated October 1823, and it gives us an idea of what the dress might have looked like in its entirety.

Morning Dress, fashion plate dated October 1823 from Rudolph Ackermann's Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashions, &c, third series, vol 2.
Morning Dress, fashion plate dated October 1823 from Rudolph Ackermann’s Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashions, &c, third series, vol 2.

George Hammond Lucy’s father, John Lucy (born John Hammond), was a ‘pugnacious, hard-drinking clergyman’ who had found himself – a little unexpectedly – the heir in the male line to the Warwickshire Lucy family.

Early in 1823, at his father’s death, George had inherited Charlecote Park but it was in a dilapidated state. It became his life’s work to restore the estate.

Charlecote Park from Jones's Views of the Seats of Noblemen and Gentlemen, 1820.
Charlecote Park from Jones’s Views of the Seats of Noblemen and Gentlemen, 1820.

Mary and George had a long marriage and many children. In her sixties, Mary wrote down her memories and they are published as Mistress of Charlecote: The Memoirs of Mary Elizabeth Lucy 1803-1889. It is a wonderful read and contains images of two portraits of the couple painted at the time of their wedding.

For more information on the Lucy’s of Charlecote Park, also see the blog Charlecote Park: Uncovered by the National Trust.

 

Sources:

Mistress of Charlecote: The Memories of Mary Elizabeth Lucy 1803-1889, introduced by Alice Fairfax-Lucy (Orion, 2002).

The History of Parliament: the House of Commons 1790-1820, ed. R. Thorne, 1986

National Trust images

Featured image:

Charlecote Park from Morris’s Picturesque Views of Seats of the Noblemen and Gentlemen of Great Britain and Ireland, 1880.

(From left to right) John Glynn, John Wilkes and John Horne Tooke and is a copy after Richard Houston, (original 1769) (National Portrait Gallery London)

John Wilkes and Knighton Gorges Manor House

In the late eighteenth-century, John Wilkes, journalist, radical and politician, took a cottage on the Isle of Wight in which he installed his middle aged mistress Amelia Arnold and subsequently he was a frequent guest at Knighton Gorges Manor, the nearby house of Maurice George Bisset and his wife.  Bisset’s wife, formerly Harriat Mordaunt, was the illegitimate daughter of Charles Henry Mordaunt, the 4th Earl of Peterborough and his mistress (and later second wife) Robinaiana Brown and also cousin to the infamous courtesan Grace Dalrymple Elliott, as we reveal in our book An Infamous Mistress: The Life, Loves and Family of the celebrated Grace Dalrymple Elliot. Another local landowner was Sir Richard Worsley whose wife Bisset had, some years earlier, eloped with, leading to a very public and shocking criminal conversation case (for more information on the infamous Lady Worsley see Hallie Rubenhold’s excellent biography, The Scandalous Lady W).

John Wilkes's Cottage [near Sandown Fort] on the Isle of Wight.
John Wilkes’s Cottage [near Sandown Fort] on the Isle of Wight. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2017
John Wilkes had a legitimate daughter, Mary (Polly) (to whom he wrote about Lady Peterborough and Miss Mordaunt in 1775) and two illegitimate children, a son by his housekeeper Catherine Smith who he passed off as his nephew and a daughter named Harriet by his mistress, Amelia Arnold.

Brighthelmstone,

Thursday, Oct. 16, 1775

Lady Peterborough, Miss M___t, more gloomy and dejected than ever, and Miss G___d as pert and flippant as at Bath, more is impossible, are here, and no other ladies I believe of your acquaintance.

Wilkes wrote to his daughter Polly from Sandham Cottage, his house on the Isle of Wight, on 15th July 1791 to tell her that ‘Captain Bissett dined here yesterday, but I have neither seen nor heard of Sir Richard Worsley. The French ladies are at Knighton House, a grandmother, mother and little daughter’ and later that same month he wrote again, mentioning that he was kindly supplied with melons and other fruit from Knighton Gorges.  The French ladies were perhaps aristocratic emigrants who had run for their lives before they lost their heads to the guillotine during the French Revolution. Grace Dalrymple Elliot and her friend Lady Seymour Worsley (Sir Richard’s wife) were not quite so lucky, and while they kept their heads on their shoulders, they were unable to flee Paris and had to endure the terror of those years, documented in An Infamous Mistress.

John Wilkes and his daughter Mary by Johann Zoffany, c.1779.
John Wilkes and his daughter Mary (Polly) by Johann Zoffany, c.1779. National Portrait Gallery, London

Knighton Gorges (now demolished) was one of the most magnificent houses on the island, a contemporary description in an island history says of it:

The manor house is an ancient building, but appears to have been constructed with much taste and judgment; and great attention has been evidently paid to it, to preserve its original beauty, in the various reparations which inevitably have been bestowed upon it. In particular we may observe, that one part of the building is finely variegated by the ivy that binds its gable ends, which perhaps, are too numerous to afford pleasure and delight to the eye; and that the windows in front are all latticed and retain their antique pillars of stone for their present supporters. It is finely situated on the gentle rising of a hill between some fine woods, but at a sufficient distance to afford some very beautiful prospects.

Knighton, the Seat of George M. Bisset, Esq.
Knighton, the Seat of George M. Bisset, Esq. Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Featured image:

The picture at the head of the article is of (from left to right) John Glynn, John Wilkes and John Horne Tooke and is a copy after Richard Houston, (original 1769) (National Portrait Gallery London)

Sources:

Letters from the year 1774 to the year 1796, of John Wilkes, Esq. addressed to his daughter the late Miss Wilkes, Volume 4, 1804.82-83

A New, Correct and much improved History of the Isle of Wight, John Albin, London, 1795

Sir Joshua Reynolds, self portrait; National Portrait Gallery, London

James Turner and George White, beggars and artists’ models

James Turner and George White were beggars and it might seem odd that they should have been immortalised in works of art by the likes of Sir Joshua Reynolds and Nathaniel Hone, the elder. In actual fact they were used by some of the greatest painters of the eighteenth-century as artist’s models, a nice side-line which supplemented their income derived from begging on the London streets and as casual labourers.

James Turner, with his long white hair and flowing beard and his wise, wrinkled and well-lived-in face was painted in miniature by Nathaniel Hone the elder in 1750. He was reputedly 93-years old and was paid one shilling per hour for his services to the artist, ‘which he asserted he always got by his profession of begging’.

James Turner by Nathaniel Hone the elder (inscribed James Turner a beggar aged 93 who valued his time at a shilling an hour, 1750). Adam's
James Turner by Nathaniel Hone the elder (inscribed James Turner a beggar aged 93 who valued his time at a shilling an hour, 1750). Adam’s

Anglesey Abbey, a National Trust property in Cambridgeshire holds a miniature of an unknown man which is catalogued as possibly being an earlier miniature of James Turner by Nathaniel Hone.

An Unknown Man, possibly James Turner (b.1657) by Nathaniel Hone the elder. Anglesey Abbey, Cambridgeshire
An Unknown Man, possibly James Turner (b.1657) by Nathaniel Hone the elder. Anglesey Abbey, Cambridgeshire

After James, Hone and his great rival Sir Joshua Reynolds both used another beggar in their work, George White. Reynolds used him as the thirteenth-century Italian nobleman, Count Ugolino (featured in Dante’s Divine Comedy) in his 1773 depiction of the count and his children, starved to death.

Count Ugolino and His Children in the Dungeon by Joshua Reynolds; National Trust, Knole
Count Ugolino and His Children in the Dungeon by Joshua Reynolds; National Trust, Knole

George White, a Yorkshireman, became one of Reynold’s favourite models. He was discovered by the artist while working as a casual labourer, laying paving stones.

Old George… owed the case in which he passed his latter days, in great measure to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who found him exerting himself in the laborious employment of thumping down the stones in the street; and observing not only the grand and majestic traits of his countenance, but the dignity of his muscular figure, took him out of a situation to which his strength was by no means equal, clothed, fed, and had him, first as a model in his own painting room, then introduced him as a subject for the students of the Royal Academy.

In winter White would return to Yorkshire as ‘coals be cheap in the north, and warmth be the life of an old man’.

A Man's Head c.1771-3 by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Presented by Sir George Beaumont Bt 1826. Tate
A Man’s Head c.1771-3 by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Presented by Sir George Beaumont Bt 1826. Tate

George White also appears in a portrait named Pope Pavarius (a pun on White’s former profession as a street mender or paviour) by Joshua Reynolds.

Pope Pavarius by Joshua Reynolds, via Wikimedia.
Pope Pavarius by Joshua Reynolds, via Wikimedia.

Nathaniel Hone too used White in his painting, The Pictorial Conjurer displaying the Whole Art of Optical Deception.

Portraits, memoirs, and characters, of remarkable persons (1820) – which does admittedly mix up James Turner and George White – has this to say of The Conjuror.

Some difference existing between Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr Hone, the latter, in revenge, painted the figure of an old man, with a magic want, conjuring from the flames various designs from old masters, which Sir Joshua had taken for models of some of his best pictures; and had afterwards destroyed the originals. On the death of Mr Hone, in 1784, the whole of his collection of paintings, prints, and drawings, were sold by auction, at Hutchins’ rooms, in King-street, Covent-garden, when the picture of the Conjuror was purchased for sixty guineas, by an agent of Sir Joshua’s, and consigned to the same destructive element that had consumed the old masters.

Sketch for 'The Conjuror' 1775 by Nathaniel Hone. Tate
Sketch for ‘The Conjuror’ 1775 by Nathaniel Hone. Tate

 

More information on Nathaniel Hone, the elder can be found on Mike Rendell’s excellent blog by clicking here.

 

Sources not mentioned or linked to above:

Lowell Libson Ltd, 2015

 

Header image: Sir Joshua Reynolds, self portrait; National Portrait Gallery, London

More female misers

We recently told you about the miser Mary Luhorne, that we came across in the book Lives and Anecdotes of Misers. Needless to say we unearthed a few more, but unfortunately, unlike Mary, we are unable to validate most of these, apart from to confirm that details of their stories also appeared in the newspapers some years later. Once again, amongst many questions, it does beg the question ‘where were the relatives when they were alive?‘ sadly, we have no answer to that question.

Anyway, here we go:

Elizabeth Wilcocks

In 1768, in Nether-Shuckburgh, in Warwickshire, lived an old maid, named Elizabeth Wilcocks, whose life was very similar to that of Mary Luhorne. For many years before her death, she ate nothing but horse-beans or a few curlings: she had hardly any clothes, and had nothing but a bundle of straw and an old blanket to lie upon; yet, at her death, twelve pairs of sheets, and a large quantity of other linen, was found in her drawers.

She hid her wealth in the most unaccountable places. In a pickle-pot, stowed away in the clock-case, was discovered eighty pounds in gold and five pounds in silver. In a hole under the stairs a canister full of gold: in an old rat-trap a large quantity of gold and silver, and in several other places similar hoards were discovered by her executors.

In addition to all this wealth, this miserable old miser was possessed of an estate in houses and land producing a handsome revenue. She left the whole of her property to a very distant relative.

Geikie, Walter; The Fruit Seller; National Galleries of Scotland; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/the-fruit-seller-210099
Geikie, Walter; The Fruit Seller; National Galleries of Scotland

Joanna Horrel

Many years ago, there used to sit in the streets of Exeter an old woman selling lemons and apples. In the very hottest day she did not flinch before the sun; and in the very bitterest of December nights she was sure to be found at her accustomed place.

Now and then she did business in her little way, and took a few coppers from the urchins in the streets. Her appearance bespoke the utmost poverty, and her rigid habits of parsimony were regarded by the charitable as the shifts of indigence.

She had been an old inhabitant of the city but all her relatives were poor, and one of them had long been an inmate of the workhouse. There were but few who, knowing these circumstances, did not pity poor old Joanna Horrel, the apple-woman, of Exeter; and loose halfpence were often quietly dropped into her fruit-basket.

These tributes of compassion were always carefully hoarded up, and however much she obtained by such means, she never altered her appearance, never lived more generously, never indulged herself in luxuries or comforts at home, and never once thought of her relative in the poor-house.  In the year 1789, Joanna had grown old, and her span of life was at an end. Her relatives came to fulfill the last duties for the dead and on searching her room, hid here and there in cracks and corners, behind bricks and under the flooring, they discovered a fortune of near ten thousand pounds.

Maria Vooght

In an old newspaper, called the General Evening Post, of the date December 21, 1779, there is an announcement of the death of Miss Maria Vooght, the female miser, of Amsterdam. She was the last of three singular and parsimonious sisters. Lest they should not be enabled to gratify their propensity to accumulate and save, they resolutely declined all offers of matrimony.

They lived huddled together in one room—gloried, like true misers, in filth, and lumber, and vermin. They ate the coarsest food, and of that but sparingly, and they were never known to have bestowed a fraction in charity. There never, perhaps, were seen such miserable, dirty, and untidy old maids. In all three, the passion of avarice was equally strong: it appeared in them a family vice: they were not induced to become so parsimonious from the fear of any future want, for they had each a fortune which would have secured all those comforts and enjoyments it is in the power of gold to provide.

Maria Vooght, the last of these eccentric characters, left at her death, a fortune of five millions of guilders, equal to five hundred thousand pounds. She died intestate, and the money went to strangers.

Brown, William; Margery Jackson (1722-1812), Hiring Croglin Watty at Carlisle Cross; Tullie House Museum and Art Gallery; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/margery-jackson-17221812-hiring-croglin-watty-at-carlisle-cross-144228
Brown, William; Margery Jackson (1722-1812), Hiring Croglin Watty at Carlisle Cross; Tullie House Museum and Art Gallery

Margery Jackson, The Carlisle miser and misanthrope (1722 – 1812)

This story is somewhat different, but equally sad, so rather than sharing her whole story with you, we will simply redirect you to this brief online Memoir of Margery Jackson, it makes fascinating reading, we would definitely recommend having a quick read of it, she even created mayhem after her death! – not the most pleasant of women.

children-toads

Tullie House Museum and Art Gallery in Carlisle even have a dress owned by Margery in their collection.

56b1cf7347f94-image-1-tullie-house-mantua-dress-1
Courtesy of Experience UK

 

Featured image:

Margery Jackson, the Carlisle Miser, by William Brown (active 1811-1837). Tuille house Museum and At Gallery

The sad tale of the miser Mary Luhorne

Sailmaker, Isaac; Two Views of an East Indiaman of the Time of William III; National Maritime Museum; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/two-views-of-an-east-indiaman-of-the-time-of-william-iii-175440
Isaac Sailmaker; Two Views of an East Indiaman of the Time of William III; National Maritime Museum

Mary Manlove married Nicholas Luhorne, some seven years her senior, in 1715 at St Andrews Holborn. There’s nothing especially noteworthy about either of them on the face of it until after the death of Nicholas, a captain in the navy, when the story of Mary’s life after the loss of her husband became particularly tragic as we discovered in a book, titled Lives and anecdotes of misers. What became of Mary…?

In the month of August of the year 1766 there died at Deptford a wretched old woman, in her ninety-sixth year; she was the widow of Captain Luhorne, of the East India service. She survived her husband forty years, and during the whole of that period she lived a most miserly and penurious manner. She not only denied herself the comforts, but even the most common necessaries and decencies of life.

Her clothes were so tattered that she was almost in a state of nudity, and the rags which she hung upon her shoulders were so filthy, and so animated with vermin, that passengers took the precaution to keep at a distance from her in the streets.

marriage-1715

She was never known to have lit a fire in her room, and never indulged in the luxury of a candle; she wore no under garments, and had no sheet to cover her at night; she eschewed all the rules of cleanliness, and appeared never so happy as when surrounded with filth and loathsomeness. She would frequently wander along the roads to beg of passers by, and always professed the utmost poverty.

The demon of avarice was so strong within this covetous soul, that she was more than once detected pilfering some trifling articles from her neighbours. One Tuesday the old woman was missed; she had not been observed to leave her room, and she had not been seen in her accustomed walks: Wednesday past, and the neighbours began to suspect that the old miser must be ill; they knocked at her door, but no voice replied; they waited for the morrow; and when the day had far advanced, and she did not appear, they got in at the window. They found her in bed alive, but speechless: with the attention she revived a little, but on Saturday the old woman died.

Her relatives were sent for, who on opening her drawers and chests found securities and gold to the amount of forty thousand pounds, besides clothes of the most sumptuous make and texture, plate, china, jewels and linen. For years she had been surrounded with this wealth and possessed these luxuries, which if rightly used would have served to comfort her old age, and have been the means of relieving the miseries and wants of others; the remembrance would in return have proved great solace to the bed of sickness and death.

st-pauls-deptford-burial-6th-aug
Although not very clear, we finally found her burial – 6th August 1766, St Nicholas, Deptford, Kent

Yet although her drawers were thus crammed with costly apparel, which was slowly moldering  and rotting before the effects of time; that wretched object of penury chose rather to wear rags so filthy that it became the imperative duty of her relatives to burn them immediately after her death.

In a life so wretched, so devoid of purpose, so laborious, so self-denying and so debased, we have a striking ample of the littleness of human wishes, and the ignobility of the human mind, when unguided by reason, and when swayed by the despotism of the passions. Her life is indeed, a problem the philosopher will find some difficulty to solve. With forty thousand pounds, no fraction of which she would venture to enjoy – with none for whom affection would prompt her to save – here was a wretched being whose lust for gold and whose propensity to hoard was so overwhelming, that she would beg of strangers in the streets whatever she could lay her hands upon; and although surrounded with an abundance, deprive herself of every enjoyment – of every hope and consolation, that she might gratify this most senseless propensity of her life, of her avarice, as manifested in all its strength at the age of ninety five, and of her lonely and comfortless death bed, we are prompted to exclaims, with the psalmist:

Vanitas Vanitatum omnia vanitas!

(vanity, vanity, all is vanity)