Hannah DYSON

Husband:  DYSON, William (1784-1858)

She was married to William Dyson, who also worked on the same farm, and who died in 1858 at the age of 74. Of a family of ten, four are now surviving, two daughters and two sons, the latter residing in the United States, whilst one of her daughters lives with an old woman in the comfortable little cottage which the kindness of Mr and Mrs Empson has provided for her. Altogether looking as she says herself “back’ard and for’ard,” she can count seven generations whom she new or knows. The above particulars were gleaned by a chat which our representative recently had with the old lady, who, in speaking of her early years, lapses frequently into a strain of half-musing speech, as is generally the custom with one whose life lies entirely in the past. 

She brightens up amazingly, however, as some question chances to strike upon an almost forgotten incident, and with a flash of merriment lighting up her kindly countenance tells how, for instance, Mrs Empson (of whom she speaks with the greatest gratitude) brought out a bottle of wine to the workers in the harvest-field when Mrs Dyson had well-neigh counted her fiftieth year in the same service. “I wrowt,” she says “many a good hard day for them.” Then in answer to the query if she did as they asked her - take the bottle home, she instantly replied, “Nay, ah, thowt’t we mun all her oor share on it,” and so, in the spirit of good fellowship, she will to let the glass go round. It was soon after this that she removed to her present abode, where she has been now for fifteen years. “Up to a quarter of a year sin, I could ‘a threaded least needle ye could ha gi’n me, or red t’family Bible,” but now her sight is not so good, though she possesses a remarkably quick ear and it apt to seize on any remark dropped sotto voce with an eager “What?” that shew the vigorous auricular powers she retains.

“What was Goole like in her youthful days?” “Why, bless you, there was only three hooses at yon side o’ Goole bridge - two cottages and a farm hoose. Mr Bradbury lived int’ farmhouse.”

“What was there at this (Old Goole) side?” “Theer was an owd toon, to be sure, but nut like it is noo; heer and theer a hoose - a thatched hoose - but nut as they are noo” (then adding with a tired, weary kind of expression, as if things had degenerated), “No, nut as they are noo.”

They used to visit Doncaster market in those early days when travelling was difficult and rather expensive. They went from Goole to Thorne by boat up the Dutch River, and then got on the coach which traversed the road between Doncaster and the capital of the county. 

Her children went to Sunday School at the Barge Dock-side, and the mention of the docks reminded her of the death of her first son, who caught his illness through bathing in the Barge Dock basin then in course of construction. That took place so long ago as 1823, and at this distance of time Mrs Dyson can recall the whole circumstances of the occurrence, even to the minutest detail, and, in her own simple way, gives a touching narrative of the mournful event. But the effect to recall other scenes quickly dispels these more gloomy recollections, and she is led to speak of the introduction of the railway, of which by the way, she has had but small experience, having done but little wandering abroad. “In fact, poor people could not afford it in her young days” is the gist of her observations on this head, and she is singularly emphatic in her declaration that “working fooaks are better off noo than t’farmers.” Did she mean “than farmers were then?” - “No, than they are noo” (more emphatically than ever). 

But, speaking of the railway, she adds, “They sed they would get carriages to run without hosses, but - with a knowing gesture - ah sed they never would do it.”

“And you have lived to see it done?” was naturally the next question, and perhaps the answer to this conveyed as much meaning as any she had given, when, with a response that seemed drawn from the whole picture of her long life present before her, she exclaimed. “Eh! What ah hev’ lived to see!” There was a world of reminiscence in that one observation. Her life as been one of arduous and constant toil, and now, in the evening of her days, in looking back upon it, all the philosophy in the universe notwithstanding, it is impossible that she could (and she does not) wish to “live it o’er again.”

This old lady after a very short illness passed away peacefully on the Sat 25th 1890.  Had she lived until next April she would have attained the extraordinary age of 102.

Her remains were interred on Tuesday at the Hook churchyard by the side of those of her husband, whose life she had outlived nearly 30 years. There was a numerous family of relatives present, and the Rev W. Booth, the vicar, officiated. Mrs Empson’s carriage followed the funeral, while crosses were laid on the grave through the kindness of the Rev J. W. DeCobain, vicar of Swinefleet, and Mr Luck, of Goole Fields."  

(From "Early History of Goole.  Manuscript and Newscuttings" originally compiled by Henry Trevor Gardiner, owner of the Goole Times from 1871 to 1891, and transcribed in 2013 by the late John Mitchell.)