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A Yorkshire Almanac Comprising 366 Historical Extracts, Red-letter Days and Customs, and Astronomical and Meteorological Data

1 November 1643: Sam Priestley of Soyland (22) saves a Royalist enemy from drowning in Hebden Water at the Battle of Heptonstall, and himself dies later of pneumonia

Jonathan Priestley. 1886. Some Memoirs Concerning the Family of the Priestleys, Written, at the Request of a Friend, by Jonathan Priestley, anno domini 1696, aetatis suae 63. Yorkshire Diaries and Autobiographies in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. Ed. Samuel Margerison. Durham: Surtees Society. Get it:

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Excerpt

What entreaty and persuasions there was to keep him at home, but could not prevail. My mother went along with him a quarter of a mile, and I with her, as children use to do. She besought him with tears not to go. I remember his words: “Mother,” saith he, “pray be content. If I stay at home I can follow no employment, but be forced to hide myself in one hole or another, which I cannot endure. I had rather venture my life in the field, and, if I die, it is in a good cause.” So most honest men thought in those times, when hundreds of Protestants were daily murdered in Ireland, and fearing the same tragedy would be acted in England; so he went, and was with my Lord Fairfax, about Selby, and Tadcaster, till the king’s army had overrun Yorkshire, all but Hull. We being banished into Lancashire, my brother Sam went to keep Heptonstall (to prevent the king’s army at Halifax from entering Lancashire), under the command of Colonel Bradshaw, a very wise, valiant, religious commander. The occasion of my brother Samuel’s death was an act of compassion to the enemy. The king’s army from Halifax came against the town, and was beaten back, and many slain, and 300 taken prisoners. Brother Sam, in the pursuit, saw a wounded man in the water, ready to be drowned. Being an object of pity, he went into the water in his boots and drew him out to dry land. He being on guard, or some necessary service, had his wet boots on all night, got cold, came home, and fell, I think, into a fever, and died in about three weeks after. Diverse soldiers came from Heptonstall to visit him, some of them unknown to us. I shall not forget how my mother, perceiving his end approaching, kneeled down, and all in the house with her, and most affectionately prayed for him. Immediately after prayer, he departed this life, in the flower of his age, about 22. He died, I think, in 1642, about one year before my father; so one trouble after another fell upon my poor mother like the waves of the sea.

To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

Abbreviations:

  • ER: East Riding
  • GM: Greater Manchester
  • NR: North Riding
  • NY: North Yorkshire
  • SY: South Yorkshire
  • WR: West Riding
  • WY: West Yorkshire

Comment

Comment

Many tales are told of this battle, or skirmish, or whatever, but I haven’t seen sources even to establish something as simple as the date.

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Original

Samuel was the next son. I can well remember him after he was grown up to 19 or 20 years of age. He was placed with Robert Hall, in Booth Town. Soon after the Civil Wars began betwixt the King and Parliament, insomuch as all trade and business was interrupted and laid aside, Lord Fairfax and Sir Thomas his son, came to Leeds and those parts to list soldiers; my brother Sam went amongst the rest, but he came over to Goodgreave [aka Great Greave, Soyland] to take his leave of my mother, uncles, and friends. What entreaty and persuasions there was to keep him at home, but could not prevail. My mother went along with him a quarter of a mile, and I with her, as children use to do [the author was then around 10]; she besought him with tears not to go; I remember his words, “Mother,” saith he, “Pray be content; if I stay at home I can follow no employment, but be forced to hide myself in one hole or another, which I cannot endure; I had rather venture my life in the field, and, if I die, it is in a good cause;” so most honest men thought in those times, when hundreds of Protestants were daily murdered in Ireland, and fearing the same tragedy would be acted in England; so he went, and was with my Lord Fairfax, about Selby, and Tadcaster, till the king’s army had overrun Yorkshire, all but Hull.

We being banished into Lancashire, my brother Sam went to keep Heptonstall (to prevent the king’s army at Halifax from entering Lancashire), under the command of Colonel Bradshaw, a very wise, valiant, religious commander. I know a man alive at this day say, since I began to write this, he hath heard many a sweet prayer from his mouth, in the field amongst the soldiers. Captain Helewel and Captain Taylor, of Brighouse, commanded under him. The occasion of my brother Samuel’s death was an act of compassion to the enemy. The king’s army from Halifax came against the town, and was beaten back, and many slain, and 300 taken prisoners. Brother Sam, in the pursuit, saw a wounded man in the water, ready to be drowned; being an object of pity, he went into the water in his boots and drew him out to dry land; he being on guard, or some necessary service, had his wet boots on all night, got cold, came home, and fell, I think, into a fever, and died in about three weeks after. Diverse soldiers came from Heptonstall to visit him, some of them unknown to us. I shall not forget how my mother, perceiving his end approaching, kneeled down, and all in the house with her, and most affectionately prayed for him. Immediately after prayer, he departed this life, in the flower of his age, about 22. He was attended to his grave by many friends, then in exile, with the neighbours about us. His body was interred in the church-yard at Rochdale. He was a very portly, desirable young man; curled black hair, and comely. His death was a great affliction to my good mother. He died, I think, in 1642, about one year before my father; so one trouble after another fell upon my poor mother like the waves of the sea.

562 words.

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