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diff --git a/old/11874-8.txt b/old/11874-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e6c197d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11874-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12147 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Hodge and His Masters, by Richard Jefferies + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Hodge and His Masters + +Author: Richard Jefferies + +Release Date: April 3, 2004 [eBook #11874] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HODGE AND HIS MASTERS*** + + +E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer and Project Gutenberg Distributed +Proofreaders + + + +HODGE AND HIS MASTERS + +BY + +RICHARD JEFFERIES + +Author of 'The Gamekeeper at Home,' 'Wild Life in a Southern County,' +'The Amateur Poacher,' 'Round About A Great Estate,' Etc. + + + + + + + +PREFACE + +The papers of which this volume is composed originally appeared in the +_Standard_, and are now republished by permission of the Editor. + +In manners, mode of thought, and way of life, there is perhaps no class of +the community less uniform than the agricultural. The diversities are so +great as to amount to contradictions. Individuality of character is most +marked, and, varying an old saw, it might be said, so many farmers so many +minds. + +Next to the tenants the landowners have felt the depression, to such a +degree, in fact, that they should perhaps take the first place, having no +one to allow them in turn a 20 per cent, reduction of their liabilities. +It must be remembered that the landowner will not receive the fruits of +returning prosperity when it comes for some time after they have reached +the farmer. Two good seasons will be needed before the landowner begins to +recoup. + +Country towns are now so closely connected with agriculture that a +description of the one would be incomplete without some mention of the +other. The aggregate capital employed by the business men of these small +towns must amount to an immense sum, and the depreciation of their +investments is of more than local concern. + +Although the labourer at the present moment is a little in the background, +and has the best of the bargain, since wages have not much fallen, if at +all; yet he will doubtless come to the front again. For as agriculture +revives, and the sun shines, the organisations by which he is represented +will naturally display fresh vigour. + +But the rapid progress of education in the villages and outlying districts +is the element which is most worthy of thoughtful consideration. On the +one hand, it may perhaps cause a powerful demand for corresponding +privileges; and on the other, counteract the tendency to unreasonable +expectations. In any case, it is a fact that cannot be ignored. Meantime, +all I claim for the following sketches is that they are written in a fair +and impartial spirit. + +RICHARD JEFFERIES. + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. THE FARMERS' PARLIAMENT + + II. LEAVING HIS FARM + + III. A MAN OF PROGRESS + + IV. GOING DOWNHILL + + V. THE BORROWER AND THE GAMBLER + + VI. AN AGRICULTURAL GENIUS--OLD STYLE + + VII. THE GIG AND THE FOUR-IN-HAND. A BICYCLE FARMER + + VIII. HAYMAKING. 'THE JUKE'S COUNTRY' + + IX. THE FINE LADY FARMER. COUNTRY GIRLS + + X. MADEMOISELLE, THE GOVERNESS + + XI. FLEECEBOROUGH. A 'DESPOT' + + XII. THE SQUIRE'S 'ROUND ROBIN' + + XIII. AN AMBITIOUS SQUIRE + + XIV. THE PARSON'S WIFE + + XV. A MODERN COUNTRY CURATE + + XVI. THE SOLICITOR + + XVII. 'COUNTY COURT DAY' + + XVIII. THE BANK. THE OLD NEWSPAPER + + XIX. THE VILLAGE FACTORY. VILLAGE VISITORS. WILLOW-WORK + + XX. HODGE'S FIELDS + + XXI. A WINTER'S MORNING + + XXII. THE LABOURER'S CHILDREN, COTTAGE GIRLS + + XXIII. THE LOW 'PUBLIC' IDLERS + + XXIV. THE COTTAGE CHARTER, FOUR-ACRE FARMERS + + XXV. LANDLORDS' DIFFICULTIES, THE LABOURER AS A POWER. MODERN CLERGY + + XXVI. A WHEAT COUNTRY + + XXVII. GRASS COUNTRIES + +XXVIII. HODGE'S LAST MASTERS, CONCLUSION + + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + + +THE FARMERS' PARLIAMENT + + +The doorway of the Jason Inn at Woolbury had nothing particular to +distinguish it from the other doorways of the same extremely narrow +street. There was no porch, nor could there possibly be one, for an +ordinary porch would reach half across the roadway. There were no steps to +go up, there was no entrance hall, no space specially provided for crowds +of visitors; simply nothing but an ordinary street-door opening directly +on the street, and very little, if any, broader or higher than those of +the private houses adjacent. There was not even the usual covered way or +archway leading into the courtyard behind, so often found at old country +inns; the approach to the stables and coach-houses was through a separate +and even more narrow and winding street, necessitating a detour of some +quarter of a mile. The dead, dull wall was worn smooth in places by the +involuntary rubbings it had received from the shoulders of foot-passengers +thrust rudely against it as the market-people came pouring in or out, or +both together. + +Had the spot been in the most crowded district of the busiest part of the +metropolis, where every inch of ground is worth an enormous sum, the +buildings could not have been more jammed together, nor the inconvenience +greater. Yet the little town was in the very midst of one of the most +purely agricultural counties, where land, to all appearance, was +plentiful, and where there was ample room and 'verge enough' to build +fifty such places. The pavement in front of the inn was barely eighteen +inches wide; two persons could not pass each other on it, nor walk +abreast. If a cart came along the roadway, and a trap had to go by it, the +foot-passengers had to squeeze up against the wall, lest the box of the +wheel projecting over the kerb should push them down. If a great waggon +came loaded with wool, the chances were whether a carriage could pass it +or not; as for a waggon-load of straw that projected from the sides, +nothing could get by, but all must wait--coroneted panel or plain +four-wheel--till the huge mass had rumbled and jolted into the more open +market-place. + +But hard, indeed, must have been the flag-stones to withstand the wear and +tear of the endless iron-shod shoes that tramped to and fro these mere +ribbons of pavements. For, besides the through traffic out from the +market-place to the broad macadamised road that had taken the place and +the route of an ancient Roman road, there were the customers to the shops +that lined each side of the street. Into some of these you stepped from +the pavement down, as it were, into a cave, the level of the shop being +eight or ten inches below the street, while the first floor projected over +the pavement quite to the edge of the kerb. To enter these shops it was +necessary to stoop, and when you were inside there was barely room to turn +round. Other shops were, indeed, level with the street; but you had to be +careful, because the threshold was not flush with the pavement, but rose a +couple of inches and then fell again, a very trap to the toe of the +unwary. Many had no glass at all, but were open, like a butcher's or +fishmonger's. Those that had glass were so restricted for space that, rich +as they might be within in the good things of the earth, they could make +no 'display.' All the genius of a West-end shopman could not have made an +artistic arrangement in that narrow space and in that bad light; for, +though so small below, the houses rose high, and the street being so +narrow the sunshine rarely penetrated into it. + +But mean as a metropolitan shopman might have thought the spot, the +business done there was large, and, more than that, it was genuine. The +trade of a country market-town, especially when that market-town, like +Woolbury, dates from the earliest days of English history, is hereditary. +It flows to the same store and to the same shop year after year, +generation after generation, century after century. The farmer who walks +into the saddler's here goes in because his father went there before him. +His father went in because his father dealt there, and so on farther back +than memory can trace. It might almost be said that whole villages go to +particular shops. You may see the agricultural labourers' wives, for +instance, on a Saturday leave the village in a bevy of ten or a dozen, and +all march in to the same tradesman. Of course in these latter days +speculative men and 'co-operative' prices, industriously placarded, have +sapped and undermined this old-fashioned system. Yet even now it retains +sufficient hold to be a marked feature of country life. To the through +traffic, therefore, had to be added the steady flow of customers to the +shops. + +On a market-day like this there is, of course, the incessant entry and +exit of carts, waggons, traps, gigs, four-wheels, and a large number of +private carriages. The number of private carriages is, indeed, very +remarkable, as also the succession of gentlemen on thoroughbred horses--a +proof of the number of resident gentry in the neighbourhood, and of its +general prosperity. Cart-horses furbished up for sale, with straw-bound +tails and glistening skins; 'baaing' flocks of sheep; squeaking pigs; +bullocks with their heads held ominously low, some going, some returning, +from the auction yard; shouting drovers; lads rushing hither and thither; +dogs barking; everything and everybody crushing, jostling, pushing through +the narrow street. An old shepherd, who has done his master's business, +comes along the pavement, trudging thoughtful and slow, with ashen staff. +One hand is in his pocket, the elbow of the arm projecting; he is feeling +a fourpenny-piece, and deliberating at which 'tap' he shall spend it. He +fills up the entire pavement, and stolidly plods on, turning ladies and +all into the roadway; not from intentional rudeness, but from sheer +inability to perceive that he is causing inconvenience. + +Unless you know the exact spot it is difficult in all this crowd and +pushing, with a nervous dread of being gored from behind by a bull, or +thrown off your feet by a sudden charge of sheep, to discover the door of +the Jason Inn. That door has been open every legitimate and lawful hour +this hundred years; but you will very likely be carried past it and have +to struggle back. Then it is not easy to enter, for half a dozen stalwart +farmers and farmers' sons are coming out; while two young fellows stand +just inside, close to the sliding bar-window, blocking up the passage, to +exchange occasional nods and smiles with the barmaid. + +However, by degrees you shuffle along the sanded passage, and past the +door of the bar, which is full of farmers as thick as they can stand, or +sit. The rattle of glasses, the chink of spoons, the hum of voices, the +stamping of feet, the calls and orders, and sounds of laughter, mingle in +confusion. Cigar-smoke and the steam from the glasses fill the room--all +too small--with a thick white mist, through which rubicund faces dimly +shine like the red sun through a fog. + +Some at the tables are struggling to write cheques, with continual jogs at +the elbow, with ink that will not flow, pens that scratch and splutter, +blotting-paper that smudges and blots. Some are examining cards of an +auction, and discussing the prices which they have marked in the margin in +pencil. The good-humoured uproar is beyond description, and is increased +by more farmers forcing their way in from the rear, where are their horses +or traps--by farmers eagerly inquiring for dealers or friends, and by +messengers from the shops loaded with parcels to place in the customer's +vehicle. + +At last you get beyond the bar-room door and reach the end of the passage, +where is a wide staircase, and at the foot a tall eight-day clock. A +maid-servant comes tripping down, and in answer to inquiry replies that +that is the way up, and the room is ready, but she adds with a smile that +there is no one there yet. It is three-quarters of an hour after the time +fixed for the reading of a most important paper before a meeting specially +convened, before the assembled Parliament of Hodge's masters, and you +thought you would be too late. A glance at the staircase proves the truth +of the maid's story. It has no carpet, but it is white as well-scrubbed +wood could well be. There is no stain, no dust, no foot-mark on it; no +heavy shoe that has been tramping about in the mud has been up there. But +it is necessary to go on or go back, and of the two the first is the +lesser evil. + +The staircase is guarded by carved banisters, and after going up two +flights you enter a large and vacant apartment prepared for the meeting of +the farmers' club. At the farther end is a small mahogany table, with an +armchair for the president, paper, pens, ink, blotting-paper, and a wax +candle and matches, in case he should want a light. Two less dignified +chairs are for the secretary (whose box, containing the club records, +books of reference, &c., is on the table), and for the secretary's clerk. +Rows of plain chairs stretch across the room, rank after rank; these are +for the audience. And last of all are two long forms, as if for Hodge, if +Hodge chooses to come. + +A gleam of the afternoon sun--as the clouds part awhile--attracts one +naturally to the window. The thickness of the wall in which it is placed +must be some two or three feet, so that there is a recess on which to put +your arms, if you do not mind the dust, and look out. The window is half +open, and the sounds of the street come up, 'baaing' and bellowing and +squeaking, the roll of wheels, the tramp of feet, and, more distant, the +shouting of an auctioneer in the market-place, whose stentorian tones come +round the corner as he puts up rickcloths for sale. Noise of man and +animal below; above, here in the chamber of science, vacancy and silence. +Looking upwards, a narrow streak of blue sky can be seen above the ancient +house across the way. + +After awhile there comes the mellow sound of bells from the church which +is near by, though out of sight; bells with a soft, old-world tone; bells +that chime slowly and succeed each other without haste, ringing forth a +holy melody composed centuries ago. It is as well to pause a minute and +listen to their voice, even in this railroad age of hurry. Over the busy +market-place the notes go forth, and presently the hum comes back and +dwells in the recess of the window. It is a full hour after the time +fixed, and now at last, as the carillon finishes, there are sounds of +heavy boots upon the staircase. Three or four farmers gather on the +landing; they converse together just outside. The secretary's clerk comes, +and walks to the table; more farmers, who, now they have company, boldly +enter and take seats; still more farmers; the secretary arrives; finally +the president appears, and with him the lecturer. There is a hum of +greeting; the minutes are read; the president introduces the professor, +and the latter stands forth to read his paper--'Science, the Remedy for +Agricultural Depression.' + +Farmers, he pointed out, had themselves only to blame for the present +period of distress. For many years past science had been like the voice +crying in the wilderness, and few, a very few only, had listened. Men had, +indeed, come to the clubs; but they had gone away home again, and, as the +swine of the proverb, returned to their wallowing in the mire. One blade +of grass still grew where two or even three might be grown; he questioned +whether farmers had any real desire to grow the extra blades. If they did, +they had merely to employ the means provided for them. Everything had been +literally put into their hands; but what was the result? Why, nothing--in +point of fact, nothing. The country at large was still undrained. The very +A B C of progress had been neglected. He should be afraid to say what +proportion of the land was yet undrained, for he should be contradicted, +called ill names, and cried down. But if they would look around them they +could see for themselves. They would see meadows full of rank, coarse +grass in the furrows, which neither horse nor cattle would touch. They +would see in the wheat-fields patches of the crop sickly, weak, feeble, +and altogether poor; that was where the water had stood and destroyed the +natural power of the seed. The same cause gave origin to that mass of +weeds which was the standing disgrace of arable districts. + +But men shut their eyes wilfully to these plain facts, and cried out that +the rain had ruined them. It was not the rain--it was their own intense +dislike of making any improvement. The _vis inertiae_ of the agricultural +class was beyond the limit of language to describe. Why, if the land had +been drained the rain would have done comparatively little damage, and +thus they would have been independent of the seasons. Look, again, at the +hay crop; how many thousand tons of hay had been wasted because men would +not believe that anything would answer which had not been done by their +forefathers! The hay might have been saved by three distinct methods. The +grass might have been piled against hurdles or light frame-work and so +dried by the wind; it might have been pitted in the earth and preserved +still green; or it might have been dried by machinery and the hot blast. A +gentleman had invented a machine, the utility of which had been +demonstrated beyond all doubt. But no; farmers folded their hands and +watched their hay rotting. + +As for the wheat crop, how could they expect a wheat crop? They had not +cleaned the soil--there were horse-hoes, and every species of contrivances +for the purpose; but they would not use them. They had not ploughed +deeply: they had merely scratched the surface as if with a pin. How could +the thin upper crust of the earth--the mere rind three inches thick--be +expected to yield crop after crop for a hundred years? Deep ploughing +could only be done by steam: now how many farmers possessed or used +steam-ploughs? Why, there were whole districts where such a thing was +unknown. They had neglected to manure the soil; to restore to it the +chemical constituents of the crops. But to speak upon artificial manure +was enough to drive any man who had the power of thought into temporary +insanity. It was so utterly dispiriting to see men positively turning away +from the means of obtaining good crops, and then crying out that they were +ruined. With drains, steam-ploughs, and artificial manure, a farmer might +defy the weather. + +Of course, continued the professor, it was assumed that the farmer had +good substantial buildings and sufficient capital. The first he could get +if he chose; and without the second, without capital, he had no business +to be farming at all. He was simply stopping the road of a better man, and +the sooner he was driven out of the way the better. The neglect of +machinery was most disheartening. A farmer bought one machine, perhaps a +reaping-machine, and then because that solitary article did not +immediately make his fortune he declared that machinery was useless. Could +the force of folly farther go? With machinery they could do just as they +liked. They could compel the earth to yield, and smile at the most +tropical rain, or the most continuous drought. If only the voice of +science had been listened to, there would have been no depression at all. +Even now it was not too late. + +Those who were wise would at once set to work to drain, to purchase +artificial manure, and set up steam power, and thereby to provide +themselves with the means of stemming the tide of depression. By these +means they could maintain a head of stock that would be more than double +what was now kept upon equal acreage. He knew full well one of the +objections that would be made against these statements. It would be said +that certain individuals had done all this, had deep ploughed, had +manured, had kept a great head of valuable stock, had used every resource, +and yet had suffered. This was true. He deeply regretted to say it was +true. + +But why had they suffered? Not because of the steam, the machinery, the +artificial manure, the improvements they had set on foot; but because of +the folly of their neighbours, of the agricultural class generally. The +great mass of farmers had made no improvements; and, when the time of +distress came, they were beaten down at every point. It was through these +men and their failures that the price of stock and of produce fell, and +that so much stress was put upon the said individuals through no fault of +their own. He would go further, and he would say that had it not been for +the noble efforts of such individuals--the pioneers of agriculture and its +main props and stays--the condition of farming would have been simply +fifty times worse than it was. They, and they alone, had enabled it to +bear up so long against calamity. They had resources; the agricultural +class, as a rule, had none. Those resources were the manure they had put +into the soil, the deep ploughing they had accomplished, the great head of +stock they had got together, and so on. These enabled them to weather the +storm. + +The cry for a reduction of rent was an irresistible proof of what he had +put forth--that it was the farmers themselves who were to blame. This cry +was a confession of their own incompetency. If you analysed it--if you +traced the general cry home to particular people--you always found that +those people were incapables. The fact was, farming, as a rule, was +conducted on the hand-to-mouth principle, and the least stress or strain +caused an outcry. He must be forgiven if he seemed to speak with unusual +acerbity. He intended no offence. But it was his duty. In such a condition +of things it would be folly to mince matters, to speak softly while +everything was going to pieces. He repeated, once for all, it was their +own fault. Science could supply the remedy, and science alone; if they +would not call in the aid of science they must suffer, and their +privations must be upon their own heads. Science said, Drain, use +artificial manure, plough deeply, keep the best breed of stock, put +capital into the soil. Call science to their aid, and they might defy the +seasons. + +The professor sat down and thrust his hand through his hair. The president +invited discussion. For some few minutes no one rose; presently, after a +whispered conversation with his friend, an elderly farmer stood up from +the forms at the very back of the room. He made no pretence to rounded +periods, but spoke much better than might have been expected; he had a +small piece of paper in his hand, on which he had made notes as the +lecture proceeded. + +He said that the lecturer had made out a very good case. He had proved to +demonstration, in the most logical manner, that farmers were fools. Well, +no doubt, all the world agreed with him, for everybody thought he could +teach the farmer. The chemist, the grocer, the baker, the banker, the wine +merchant, the lawyer, the doctor, the clerk, the mechanic, the merchant, +the editor, the printer, the stockbroker, the colliery owner, the +ironmaster, the clergyman, and the Methodist preacher, the very cabmen and +railway porters, policemen, and no doubt the crossing-sweepers--to use an +expressive Americanism, all the whole "jing-bang"--could teach the +ignorant jackass of a farmer. + +Some few years ago he went into a draper's shop to bring home a parcel for +his wife, and happened to enter into conversation with the draper himself. +The draper said he was just going to sell off the business and go into +dairy farming, which was the most paying thing out. That was just when +there came over from America a patent machine for milking cows. The +draper's idea was to milk all his cows by one of these articles, and so +dispense with labour. He saw no more of him for a long time, but had heard +that morning that he went into a dairy farm, got rid of all his money, and +was now tramping the country as a pedlar with a pack at his back. +Everybody thought he could teach the farmer till he tried farming himself, +and then he found his mistake. + +One remark of the lecturer, if he might venture to say so, seemed to him, +a poor ignorant farmer of sixty years' standing, not only uncalled-for and +priggish, but downright brutal. It was that the man with little capital +ought to be driven out of farming, and the sooner he went to the wall the +better. Now, how would all the grocers and other tradesmen whom he had +just enumerated like to be told that if they had not got 10,000_l_. each +they ought to go at once to the workhouse! That would be a fine remedy for +the depression of trade. + +He always thought it was considered rather meritorious if a man with small +capital, by hard work, honest dealing, and self-denial, managed to raise +himself and get up in the world. But, oh no; nothing of the kind; the +small man was the greatest sinner, and must be eradicated. Well, he did +not hesitate to say that he had been a small man himself, and began in a +very small way. Perhaps the lecturer would think him a small man still, as +he was not a millionaire; but he could pay his way, which went for +something in the eyes of old-fashioned people, and perhaps he had a pound +or two over. He should say but one word more, for he was aware that there +was a thunderstorm rapidly coming up, and he supposed science would not +prevent him from getting a wet jacket. He should like to ask the lecturer +if he could give the name of one single scientific farmer who had +prospered? + +Having said this much, the old gentleman put on his overcoat and busted +out of the room, and several others followed him, for the rain was already +splashing against the window-panes. Others looked at their watches, and, +seeing it was late, rose one by one and slipped off. The president asked +if any one would continue the discussion, and, as no one rose, invited the +professor to reply. + +The professor gathered his papers and stood up. Then there came a heavy +rolling sound--the unmistakable boom of distant thunder. He said that the +gentleman who had left so abruptly had quite misconstrued the tenour of +his paper. So far from intending to describe farmers as lacking in +intelligence, all he wished to show was that they did not use their +natural abilities, from a certain traditionary bowing to custom. They did +not like their neighbours to think that they were doing anything novel. No +one respected the feelings that had grown up and strengthened from +childhood, no one respected the habits of our ancestors, more than he did; +no one knew better the solid virtues that adorned the homes of +agriculturists. Far, indeed, be it from him to say aught--[Boom! and the +rattling of rain against the window]--aught that could--but he saw that +gentlemen were anxious to get home, and would conclude. + +A vote of thanks was hurriedly got over, and the assembly broke up and +hastened down the staircase. They found the passage below so blocked with +farmers who had crowded in out of the storm that movement was impossible. +The place was darkened by the overhanging clouds, the atmosphere thick and +close with the smoke and the crush. Flashes of brilliant lightning seemed +to sweep down the narrow street, which ran like a brook with the +storm-water; the thunder seemed to descend and shake the solid walls. +'It's rather hard on the professor,' said one farmer to another. 'What +would science do in a thunderstorm?' He had hardly spoken when the hail +suddenly came down, and the round white globules, rebounding from the +pavement, rolled in at the open door. Each paused as he lifted his glass +and thought of the harvest. As for Hodge, who was reaping, he had to take +shelter how he might in the open fields. Boom! flash! boom!--splash and +hiss, as the hail rushed along the narrow street. + + + + + +CHAPTER II + + + +LEAVING HIS FARM + + +A large white poster, fresh and glaring, is pasted on the wall of a barn +that stands beside a narrow country lane. So plain an advertisement, +without any colour or attempt at 'display,' would be passed unnoticed +among the endless devices on a town hoarding. There nothing can be hoped +to be looked at unless novel and strange, or even incomprehensible. But +here the oblong piece of black and white contrasts sufficiently in itself +with red brick and dull brown wooden framing, with tall shadowy elms, and +the glint of sunshine on the streamlet that flows with a ceaseless murmur +across the hollow of the lane. Every man that comes along stays to read +it. + +The dealer in his trap--his name painted in white letters on the +shaft--pulls up his quick pony, and sits askew on his seat to read. He has +probably seen it before in the bar of the wayside inn, roughly hung on a +nail, and swaying to and fro with the draught along the passage. He may +have seen it, too, on the handing-post at the lonely cross-roads, stuck on +in such a manner that, in order to peruse it, it is necessary to walk +round the post. The same formal announcement appears also in the local +weekly papers--there are at least two now in the smallest place--and he +has read it there. Yet he pauses to glance at it again, for the country +mind requires reiteration before it can thoroughly grasp and realise the +simplest fact. The poster must be read and re-read, and the printer's name +observed and commented on, or, if handled, the thickness of the paper felt +between thumb and finger. After a month or two of this process people at +last begin to accept it as a reality, like cattle or trees--something +substantial, and not mere words. + +The carter, with his waggon, if he be an elderly man, cries 'Whoa!' and, +standing close to the wall, points to each letter with the top of his +whip--where it bends--and so spells out 'Sale by Auction.' If he be a +young man he looks up at it as the heavy waggon rumbles by, turns his +back, and goes on with utter indifference. + +The old men, working so many years on a single farm, and whose minds were +formed in days when a change of tenancy happened once in half a century, +have so identified themselves with the order of things in the parish that +it seems to personally affect them when a farmer leaves his place. But +young Hodge cares nothing about his master, or his fellow's master. +Whether they go or stay, prosperous or decaying, it matters nothing to +him. He takes good wages, and can jingle some small silver in his pocket +when he comes to the tavern a mile or so ahead; so 'gee-up' and let us get +there as rapidly as possible. + +An hour later a farmer passes on horseback; his horse all too broad for +his short legs that stick out at the side and show some inches of stocking +between the bottom of his trousers and his boots. A sturdy, thick-set man, +with a wide face, brickdust colour, fringed with close-cut red whiskers, +and a chest so broad he seems compelled to wear his coat unbuttoned. He +pulls off his hat and wipes his partly bald head with a coloured +handkerchief, stares at the poster a few minutes, and walks his horse +away, evidently in deep thought. Two boys--cottagers' children--come home +from school; they look round to see that no one observes, and then throw +flints at the paper till the sound of footsteps alarms them. + + +Towards the evening a gentleman and lady, the first middle-aged, the +latter very young--father and daughter--approach, their horses seeming to +linger as they walk through the shallow stream, and the cool water +splashes above their fetlocks. The shooting season is near at hand, +Parliament has risen, and the landlords have returned home. Instead of the +Row, papa must take his darling a ride through the lanes, a little dusty +as the autumn comes on, and pauses to read the notice on the wall. It is +his neighbour's tenant, not his, but it comes home to him here. It is the +real thing--the fact--not the mere seeing it in the papers, or the warning +hints in the letters of his own steward. 'Papa,' is rather quiet for the +rest of the ride. Ever since he was a lad--how many years ago is that?--he +has shot with his neighbour's party over this farm, and recollects the +tenant well, and with that friendly feeling that grows up towards what we +see year after year. In a day or two the clergyman drives by with his low +four-wheel and fat pony, notes the poster as the pony slackens at the +descent to the water, and tells himself to remember and get the tithe. +Some few Sundays, and Farmer Smith will appear in church no more. + +Farmer Smith this beautiful morning is looking at the wheat, which is, and +is not, his. It would have been cut in an ordinary season, but the rains +have delayed the ripening. He wonders how the crop ever came up at all +through the mass of weeds that choked it, the spurrey that filled the +spaces between the stalks below, the bindweed that climbed up them, the +wild camomile flowering and flourishing at the edge, the tall thistles +lifting their heads above it in bunches, and the great docks whose red +seeds showed at a distance. He sent in some men, as much to give them +something to do as for any real good, one day, who in a few hours pulled +up enough docks to fill a cart. They came across a number of snakes, and +decapitated the reptiles with their hoes, and afterwards hung them all +up--tied together by the tail--to a bough. The bunch of headless snakes +hangs there still, swinging to and fro as the wind plays through the oak. +Vermin, too, revel in weeds, which encourage the mice and rats, and are, +perhaps, quite as much a cause of their increase as any acts of the +gamekeeper. + +Farmer Smith a few years since was very anxious for the renewal of his +lease, just as those about to enter on tenancies desired leases above +everything. All the agricultural world agreed that a lease was the best +thing possible--the clubs discussed it, the papers preached it. It was a +safeguard; it allowed the tenant to develop his energies, and to put his +capital into the soil without fear. He had no dread of being turned out +before he could get it back. Nothing like a lease--the certain +preventative of all agricultural ills. There was, to appearance, a great +deal of truth in these arguments, which in their day made much impression, +and caused a movement in that direction. Who could foresee that in a few +short years men would be eager to get rid of their leases on any terms? +Yet such was the fact. The very men who had longed so eagerly for the +blessing of security of tenure found it the worst thing possible for their +interest. + +Mr. Smith got his lease, and paid for it tolerably stiffly, for at that +period all agricultural prices were inflated--from the price of a lease to +that of a calf. He covenanted to pay a certain fixed rental for so many +acres of arable and a small proportion of grass for a fixed time. He +covenanted to cultivate the soil by a fixed rotation; not to sow this nor +that, nor to be guided by the change of the markets, or the character of +the seasons, or the appearance of powerful foreign competitors. There was +the parchment prepared with all the niceties of wording that so many +generations of lawyers had polished to the highest pitch; not a loophole, +not so much as a _t_ left uncrossed, or a doubtful interlineation. But +although the parchment did not alter a jot, the times and seasons did. +Wheat fell in price, vast shipments came even from India, cattle and sheep +from America, wool from Australia, horses from France; tinned provisions +and meats poured in by the ton, and cheese, and butter, and bacon by the +thousand tons. Labour at the same time rose. His expenditure increased, +his income decreased; his rent remained the same, and rent audit came +round with the utmost regularity. + +Mr. Smith began to think about his lease, and question whether it was such +an unmixed blessing. There was no getting out of it, that was certain. The +seasons grew worse and worse. Smith asked for a reduction of rent. He got, +like others, ten per cent, returned, which, he said looked very liberal to +those who knew nothing of farming, and was in reality about as useful as a +dry biscuit flung at a man who has eaten nothing for a week. Besides +which, it was only a gracious condescension, and might not be repeated +next year, unless he kept on his good behaviour, and paid court to the +clergyman and the steward. Unable to get at what he wanted in a direct +way, Smith tried an indirect one. He went at game, and insisted on its +being reduced in number. This he could do according to the usual terms of +agreement; but when it came to the point he found that the person called +in to assess the damage put it at a much lower figure than he had himself; +and who was to decide what was or was not a reasonable head of game? This +attack of his on the game did him no good whatever, and was not +unnaturally borne in mind--let us not say resented. + +He next tried to get permission to sell straw--a permission that he saw +granted to others in moderation. But he was then reminded of a speech he +had made at a club, when, in a moment of temper (and sherry), he had let +out a piece of his mind, which piece of his mind was duly published in the +local papers, and caused a sensation. Somebody called the landlord's +attention to it, and he did not like it. Nor can he be blamed; we none of +us like to be abused in public, the more especially when, looking at +precedents, we do not deserve it. Smith next went to the assessment +committee to get his taxes reduced, on the ground of a loss of revenue. +The committee sympathised with him, but found that they must assess him +according to his rent. At least so they were then advised, and only did +their duty. + +By this time the local bankers had scented a time of trouble approaching +in the commercial and agricultural world; they began to draw in their more +doubtful advances, or to refuse to renew them. As a matter of fact, Smith +was a perfectly sound man, but he had so persistently complained that +people began to suspect there really was something wrong with his +finances. He endeavoured to explain, but was met with the tale that he had +himself started. He then honestly produced his books, and laid his +position bare to the last penny. + +The banker believed him, and renewed part of the advance for a short +period; but he began, to cogitate in this wise: 'Here is a farmer of long +experience, born of a farming family, and a hardworking fellow, and, more +than that, honest. If this man, who has hitherto had the command of a fair +amount of capital, cannot make his books balance better than this, what +must be the case with some of our customers? There are many who ride about +on hunters, and have a bin of decent wine. How much of all this is +genuine? We must be careful; these are hard times.' In short, Smith, +without meaning it, did his neighbours an immense deal of harm. His very +honesty injured them. By slow degrees the bank got 'tighter' with its +customers. It leaked out--all things leak out--that Smith had said too +much, and he became unpopular, which did not increase his contentment. + +Finally he gave notice that unless the rent was reduced he should not +apply to renew the lease, which would soon expire. He had not the least +intention in his secret mind of leaving the farm; he never dreamed that +his notice would be accepted. He and his had dwelt there for a hundred +years, and were as much part and parcel of the place as the elm-trees in +the hedges. So many farms were in the market going a-begging for tenants, +it was not probable a landlord would let a good man go for the sake of a +few shillings an acre. But the months went by and the landlord's agents +gave no sign, and at last Smith realised that he was really going to +leave. + +Though he had so long talked of going, it came upon him like a +thunderbolt. It was like an attack of some violent fever that shakes a +strong man and leaves him as weak as a child. The farmer, whose meals had +been so hearty, could not relish his food. His breakfast dwindled to a +pretence; his lunch fell off; his dinner grew less; his supper faded; his +spirits and water, the old familiar 'nightcap,' did him no good. His jolly +ringing laugh was heard no more; from a thorough gossip he became +taciturn, and barely opened his lips. His clothes began to hang about him, +instead of fitting him all too tight; his complexion lost the red colour +and became sallow; his eyes had a furtive look in them, so different to +the old straightforward glance. + +Some said he would take to his bed and die; some said he would jump into +the pond one night, to be known no more in this world. But he neither +jumped into the pond nor took to his bed. He went round his fields just +the same as before--perhaps a little more mechanically; but still the old +routine of daily work was gone through. Leases, though for a short period, +do not expire in a day; after awhile time began to produce its usual +effect. The sharpness of the pain wore off, and he set to work to make the +best of matters. He understood the capacity of each field as well as +others understand the yielding power of a little garden. His former study +had been to preserve something like a balance between what he put in and +what he took out of the soil. Now it became the subject of consideration +how to get the most out without putting anything in. Artificial manures +were reduced to the lowest quantity and of the cheapest quality, such as +was used being, in fact, nothing but to throw dust, literally, in the eyes +of other people. Times were so bad that he could not be expected, under +the most favourable circumstances, to consume much cake in the stalls or +make much manure in that way. + +One by one extra expenditures were cut off. Gates, instead of being +repaired, were propped up by running a pole across. Labour was eschewed in +every possible way. Hedges were left uncut; ditches were left uncleaned. +The team of horses was reduced, and the ploughing done next to nothing. +Cleaning and weeding were gradually abandoned. Several fields were allowed +to become overrun with grass, not the least attention being paid to them; +the weeds sprang up, and the grass ran over from the hedges. The wheat +crop was kept to the smallest area. Wheat requires more previous labour +and care as to soil than any other crop. Labour and preparation cost +money, and he was determined not to spend a shilling more than he was +absolutely compelled. He contrived to escape the sowing, of wheat +altogether on some part of the farm, leaving it out of the rotation. That +was a direct infringement of the letter of the agreement; but who was to +prove that he had evaded it? The steward could not recollect the crops on +several hundred acres; the neighbouring tenants, of course, knew very +well; but although Smith had become unpopular, they were not going to tell +tales of him. He sold everything he dared off the farm, and many things +that he did not dare. He took everything out of the soil that it was +possible to take out. The last Michaelmas was approaching, and he walked +round in the warm August sunshine to look at the wheat. + +He sat down on an old roller that lay in the corner of the field, and +thought over the position of things. He calculated that it would cost the +incoming tenant an expenditure of from one thousand two hundred pounds to +one thousand five hundred pounds to put the farm, which was a large one, +into proper condition. It could not be got into such condition under three +years of labour. The new tenant must therefore be prepared to lay out a +heavy sum of money, to wait while the improvement went on, must live how +he could meanwhile, and look forward some three years for the commencement +of his profit. To such a state had the farm been brought in a brief time. +And how would the landlord come off? The new tenant would certainly make +his bargain in accordance with the state of the land. For the first year +the rent paid would be nominal; for the second, perhaps a third or half +the usual sum; not till the third year could the landlord hope to get his +full rental. That full rental, too, would be lower than previously, +because the general depression had sent down arable rents everywhere, and +no one would pay on the old scale. + +Smith thought very hard things of the landlord, and felt that he should +have his revenge. On the other hand, the landlord thought very hard things +of Smith, and not without reason. That an old tenant, the descendant of +one of the oldest tenant-farmer families, should exhaust the soil in this +way seemed the blackest return for the good feeling that had existed for +several generations. There was great irritation on both sides. + +Smith had, however, to face one difficulty. He must either take another +farm at once, or live on his capital. The interest of his capital--if +invested temporarily in Government securities--would hardly suffice to +maintain the comfortable style of living he and his rather large family of +grown-up sons and daughters had been accustomed to. He sometimes heard a +faint, far off 'still small voice,' that seemed to say it would have been +wiser to stay on, and wait till the reaction took place and farming +recovered. The loss he would have sustained by staying on would, perhaps, +not have been larger than the loss he must now sustain by living on +capital till such time as he saw something to suit him. And had he been +altogether wise in omitting all endeavours to gain his end by conciliatory +means? Might not gentle persuasion and courteous language have ultimately +produced an impression? Might not terms have been arranged had he not been +so vehement? The new tenant, notwithstanding that he would have to contend +with the shocking state of the farm, had such favourable terms that if he +only stayed long enough to let the soil recover, Smith knew he must make a +good thing of it. + +But as he sat on the wooden roller under the shade of a tree and thought +these things, listening to the rustle of the golden wheat as it moved in +the breeze, he pulled a newspaper out of his pocket, and glanced down a +long, long list of farms to let. Then he remembered that his pass-book at +the bank showed a very respectable row of figures, buttoned up his coat, +and strolled homeward with a smile on his features. The date fixed for the +sale, as announced by the poster on the barn, came round, and a crowd +gathered to see the last of the old tenant. Old Hodge viewed the scene +from a distance, resting against a gate, with his chin on his hand. He was +thinking of the days when he first went to plough, years ago, under +Smith's father. If Smith had been about to enter on another farm old Hodge +would have girded up his loins, packed his worldly goods in a waggon, and +followed his master's fortunes thither. But Smith was going to live on his +capital awhile; and old Hodge had already had notice to quit his cottage. +In his latter days he must work for a new master. Down at the sale young +Hodge was lounging round, hands in pocket, whistling--for there was some +beer going about. The excitement of the day was a pleasurable sensation, +and as for his master he might go to Kansas or Hong-Kong. + + + + + +CHAPTER III + + + +A MAN OF PROGRESS + + +The sweet sound of rustling leaves, as soothing as the rush of falling +water, made a gentle music over a group of three persons sitting at the +extremity of a lawn. Upon their right was a plantation or belt of trees, +which sheltered them from the noonday sun; on the left the green sward +reached to the house; from the open window came the rippling notes of a +piano, and now and again the soft accents of the Italian tongue. The walls +of the garden shut out the world and the wind--the blue sky stretched +above from one tree-top to another, and in those tree-tops the cool +breeze, grateful to the reapers in the fields, played with bough and leaf. +In the centre of the group was a small table, and on it some tall glasses +of antique make, and a flask of wine. By the lady lay a Japanese parasol, +carelessly dropped on the grass. She was handsome, and elegantly dressed; +her long drooping eyelashes fringed eyes that were almost closed in +luxurious enjoyment; her slender hand beat time to the distant song. Of +the two gentlemen one was her brother--the other, a farmer, her husband. +The brother wore a pith helmet, and his bronzed cheek told of service +under tropical suns. The husband was scarcely less brown; still young, and +very active-looking, you might guess his age at forty; but his bare +forehead (he had thrown his hat on the ground) was marked with the line +caused by involuntary contraction of the muscles when thinking. There was +an air of anxiety, of restless feverish energy, about him. But just for +the moment he was calm and happy, turning over the pages of a book. +Suddenly he looked up, and began to declaim, in a clear, sweet voice: + + 'He's speaking now, + Or murmuring, "Where's my serpent of old Nile?" + For so he calls me. Now I feed myself + With most delicious poison!' + +Just then there came the sharp rattle of machinery borne on the wind; he +recollected himself, shut the volume, and rose from his seat. 'The men +have finished luncheon,' he said; 'I must go and see how things are +getting on.' The Indian officer, after one glance back at the house, went +with him. There was a private footpath through the plantation of trees, +and down this the two disappeared. Soon afterwards the piano ceased, and a +lady came slowly across the lawn, still humming the air she had been +playing. She was the farmer's sister, and was engaged to the officer. The +wife looked up from the book which she had taken from the table, with a +smile of welcome. But the smile faded as she said--'They have gone out to +the reapers. Oh, this farm will worry him out of his life! How I wish he +had never bought it! Don't let Alick have anything to do with farms or +land, dear, when you are married.' + +The girl laughed, sat down, took her hand, and asked if matters were +really so serious. + +'It is not so much the money I trouble about,' said the wife. 'It is Cecil +himself. His nature is too fine for these dull clods. You know him, dear; +his mind is full of art--look at these glasses--of music and pictures. +Why, he has just been reading "Antony and Cleopatra," and now he's gone to +look after reapers. Then, he is so fiery and quick, and wants everything +done in a minute, like the men of business in the "City." He keeps his +watch timed to a second, and expects the men to be there. They are so +slow. Everything agricultural is so slow. They say we shall have fine +seasons in two or three years; only think, _years_. This is what weighs on +Cecil.' + +By this time the two men had walked through the plantation, and paused at +a small gate that opened on the fields. The ground fell rapidly away, +sloping down for half a mile, so that every portion of the fields below +was visible at once. The house and gardens were situate on the hill; the +farmer had only to stand on the edge to overlook half his place. + +'What a splendid view!' said the officer. The entire slope was yellow with +wheat--on either hand, and in front the surface of the crop extended +unbroken by hedge, tree, or apparent division. Two reaping-machines were +being driven rapidly round and round, cutting as they went; one was a +self-binder and threw the sheaves off already bound; the other only laid +the corn low, and it had afterwards to be gathered up and bound by +hand-labour. There was really a small army of labourers in the field; but +it was so large they made but little show. + +'You have a first-rate crop,' said the visitor; 'I see no weeds, or not +more than usual; it is a capital crop.' + +'Yes,' replied the farmer, 'it is a fine crop; but just think what it cost +me to produce it, and bear in mind, too, the price I shall get for it.' He +took out his pocket-book, and began to explain. + +While thus occupied he looked anything but a farmer. His dress was indeed +light and careless, but it was the carelessness of breeding, not +slovenliness. His hands were brown, but there were clean white cuffs on +his wrist and gold studs; his neck was brown, but his linen spotless. The +face was too delicate, too refined with all its bronze; the frame was well +developed, but too active; it lacked the heavy thickness and the lumbering +gait of the farmer bred to the plough. He might have conducted a great +financial operation; he might have been the head of a great mercantile +house; he might have been on 'Change; but that stiff clay there, stubborn +and unimpressionable, was not in his style. + +Cecil had gone into farming, in fact, as a 'commercial speculation,' with +the view of realising cent. per cent. He began at the time when it was +daily announced that old-fashioned farming was a thing of the past. +Business maxims and business practice were to be the rule of the future. +Farming was not to be farming; it was to be emphatically 'business,' the +same as iron, coal, or cotton. Thus managed, with steam as the motive +power, a fortune might be made out of the land, in the same way as out of +a colliery or a mine. But it must be done in a commercial manner; there +must be no restrictions upon the employment of capital, no fixed rotation +of crops, no clauses forbidding the sale of any products. Cecil found, +however, that the possessors of large estates would not let him a farm on +these conditions. These ignorant people (as he thought them) insisted upon +keeping up the traditionary customs; they would not contract themselves +out of the ancient form of lease. + +But Cecil was a man of capital. He really had a large sum of money, and +this short-sighted policy (as he termed it) of the landlords only made him +the more eager to convince them how mistaken they were to refuse anything +to a man who could put capital into the soil. He resolved to be his own +landlord, and ordered his agents to find him a small estate and to +purchase it outright. There was not much difficulty in finding an estate, +and Cecil bought it. But he was even then annoyed and disgusted with the +formalities, the investigation of title, the completion of deeds, and +astounded at the length of a lawyer's bill. + +Being at last established in possession Cecil set to work, and at the same +time set every agricultural tongue wagging within a radius of twenty +miles. He grubbed up all the hedges, and threw the whole of his arable +land into one vast field, and had it levelled with the theodolite. He +drained it six feet deep at an enormous cost. He built an engine-shed with +a centrifugal pump, which forced water from the stream that ran through +the lower ground over the entire property, and even to the topmost storey +of his house. He laid a light tramway across the widest part of his +estate, and sent the labourers to and fro their work in trucks. The +chaff-cutters, root-pulpers, the winnowing-machine--everything was driven +by steam. Teams of horses and waggons seemed to be always going to the +canal wharf for coal, which he ordered from the pit wholesale. + +A fine set of steam-ploughing tackle was put to work, and, having once +commenced, the beat of the engines never seemed to cease. They were for +ever at work tearing up the subsoil and bringing it to the surface. If he +could have done it, he would have ploughed ten feet deep. Tons of +artificial manure came by canal boat--positively boat loads--and were +stored in the warehouse. For he put up a regular warehouse for the storage +of materials; the heavy articles on the ground floor, the lighter above, +hoisted up by a small crane. There was, too, an office, where the +'engineer' attended every morning to take his orders, as the bailiff might +at the back-door of an old farmhouse. Substantial buildings were erected +for the shorthorn cattle. + +The meadows upon the estate, like the corn-fields, were all thrown +together, such divisions as were necessary being made by iron railings. +Machines of every class and character were provided--reaping-machines, +mowing-machines, horse-hoes, horse-rakes, elevators--everything was to be +done by machinery. That nothing might be incomplete, some new and +well-designed cottages were erected for the skilled artisans--they could +scarcely be called labourers--who were engaged to work these engines. The +estate had previously consisted of several small farms: these were now +thrown all into one, otherwise there would not have been room for this +great enterprise. + +A complete system of booking was organised. From the sale of a bullock to +the skin of a calf, everything was put down on paper. All these entries, +made in books specially prepared and conveniently ruled for the purpose, +came under Cecil's eye weekly, and were by him re-entered in his ledgers. +This writing took up a large part of his time, and the labour was +sometimes so severe that he could barely get through it; yet he would not +allow himself a clerk, being economical in that one thing only. It was a +saying in the place that not a speck of dust could be blown on to the +estate by the wind, or a straw blown off, without it being duly entered in +the master's books. + +Cecil's idea was to excel in all things. Some had been famous for +shorthorns before him, others for sheep, and others again for wheat. He +would be celebrated for all. His shorthorns should fetch fabulous prices; +his sheep should be known all over the world; his wheat should be the crop +of the season. In this way he invested his capital in the soil with a +thoroughness unsurpassed. As if to prove that he was right, the success of +his enterprise seemed from the first assured. His crops of wheat, in which +he especially put faith, and which he grew year after year upon the same +land, totally ignoring the ancient rotations, were the wonder of the +neighbourhood. Men came from far and near to see them. Such was the effect +of draining, turning up the subsoil, continual ploughing, and the +consequent atmospheric action upon the exposed earth, and of liberal +manure, that here stood such crops of wheat as had never previously been +seen. These he sold, as they stood, by auction; and no sooner had the +purchasers cleared the ground than the engines went to work again, tearing +up the earth. His meadow lands were irrigated by the centrifugal pump, and +yielded three crops instead of one. His shorthorns began to get known--for +he spared no expense upon them--and already one or two profitable sales +had been held. His sheep prospered; there was not so much noise made about +them, but, perhaps, they really paid better than anything. + +Meantime, Cecil kept open house, with wine and refreshments, and even beds +for everybody who chose to come and inspect his place. Nothing gave him +such delight as to conduct visitors over the estate and to enter into +minute details of his system. As for the neighbouring farmers they were +only too welcome. These things became noised abroad, and people arrived +from strange and far-off places, and were shown over this Pioneer's Farm, +as Cecil loved to call it. His example was triumphantly quoted by every +one who spoke on agricultural progress. Cecil himself was the life and +soul of the farmers' club in the adjacent market town. It was not so much +the speeches he made as his manner. His enthusiasm was contagious. If a +scheme was started, if an experiment was suggested, Cecil's cheque-book +came out directly, and the thing was set on foot without delay. His easy, +elastic step, his bright eye, his warm, hearty handshake, seemed to +electrify people--to put some of his own spirit into them. The circle of +his influence was ever increasing--the very oldest fogeys, who had +prophesied every kind of failure, were being gradually won over. + +Cecil himself was transcendently happy in his work; his mind was in it; no +exertion, no care or trouble, was too much. He worked harder than any +navvy, and never felt fatigue. People said of him--'What a wonderful man!' +He was so genuine, so earnest, so thorough, men could not choose but +believe in him. The sun shone brightly, the crops ripened, the hum of the +threshing-machine droned on the wind--all was life and happiness. In the +summer evenings pleasant groups met upon the lawn; the song, the jest went +round; now and then an informal dance, arranged with much laughter, whiled +away the merry hours till the stars appeared above the trees and the dew +descended. + +Yet to-day, as the two leaned over the little gate in the plantation and +looked down upon the reapers, the deep groove which continual thought +causes was all too visible on Cecil's forehead. He explained to the +officer how his difficulties had come about. His first years upon the farm +or estate--it was really rather an estate than a farm--had been fairly +prosperous, notwithstanding the immense outlay of capital. A good +percentage, in some cases a high-rate of percentage, had been returned +upon the money put into the soil. The seasons were good, the crops large +and superabundant. Men's minds were full of confidence, they bought +freely, and were launching out in all directions. + +They wanted good shorthorn cattle--he sold them cattle; they wanted +sheep--he sold them sheep. They wanted wheat, and he sold them the +standing crops, took the money, and so cleared his profit and saved +himself trouble. It was, in fact, a period of inflation. Like stocks and +shares, everything was going up; everybody hastening to get rich. +Shorthorns with a strain of blue blood fetched fancy prices; corn crops +ruled high; every single thing sold well. The dry seasons suited the soil +of the estate, and the machinery he had purchased was rapidly repaying its +first cost in the saving of labour. His whole system was succeeding, and +he saw his way to realise his cent. per cent. + +But by degrees the dream faded. He attributed it in the first place to the +stagnation, the almost extinction, of the iron trade, the blowing out of +furnaces, and the consequent cessation of the demand for the best class of +food on the part of thousands of operatives and mechanics, who had +hitherto been the farmers' best customers. They would have the best of +everything when their wages were high; as their wages declined their +purchases declined. In a brief period, far briefer than would be imagined, +this shrinking of demand reacted upon agriculture. The English farmer made +his profit upon superior articles--the cheaper class came from abroad so +copiously that he could not compete against so vast a supply. + +When the demand for high-class products fell, the English farmer felt it +directly. Cecil considered that it was the dire distress in the +manufacturing districts, the stagnation of trade and commerce and the +great failures in business centres, that were the chief causes of low +prices and falling agricultural markets. The rise of labour was but a +trifling item. He had always paid good wages to good men, and always meant +to. The succession of wet seasons was more serious, of course; it lowered +the actual yield, and increased the cost of procuring the yield; but as +his lands were well drained, and had been kept clean he believed he could +have withstood the seasons for awhile. + +The one heavy cloud that overhung agriculture, in his opinion was the +extraordinary and almost world-spread depression of trade, and his +argument was very simple. When men prospered they bought freely, indulged +in luxurious living, kept horses, servants, gave parties, and consumed +indirectly large quantities of food. As they made fortunes they bought +estates and lived half the year like country gentlemen--that competition +sent up the price of land. The converse was equally true. In times of +pressure households were reduced, servants dismissed, horses sold, +carriages suppressed. Rich and poor acted alike in different degrees but +as the working population was so much more numerous it was through the low +wages of the working population in cities and manufacturing districts that +the farmers suffered most. + +It was a period of depression--there was no confidence, no speculation. +For instance a year or two since the crop of standing wheat then growing +on the very field before their eyes was sold by auction, and several lots +brought from 16_l_. to 18_l_. per acre. This year the same wheat would not +fetch 8_l_. per acre; and, not satisfied with that price, he had +determined to reap and thresh it himself. It was the same with the +shorthorns, with the hay, and indeed with everything except sheep, which +had been a mainstay and support to him. + +'Yet even now,' concluded Cecil, shutting his pocket-book, 'I feel +convinced that my plan and my system will be a success. I can see that I +committed one great mistake--I made all my improvements at once, laid out +all my capital, and crippled my self. I should have done one thing at a +time. I should, as it were, have grown my improvements--one this year, one +next. As it was, I denuded myself of capital. Had the times continued +favourable it would not have mattered, as my income would have been large. +But the times became adverse before I was firmly settled, and, to be +plain, I can but just keep things going without a loan--dear Bella will +not be able to go to the sea this year; but we are both determined not to +borrow.' + +'In a year or two I am convinced we shall flourish again; but the waiting, +Alick, the waiting, is the trial. You know I am impatient. Of course, the +old-fashioned people, the farmers, all expect me to go through the +Bankruptcy Court. They always said these new-fangled plans would not +answer, and now they are sure they were right. Well, I forgive them their +croaking, though most of them have dined at my table and drank my wine. I +forgive them their croaking, for so they were bred up from childhood. Were +I ill-natured, I might even smile at them, for they are failing and +leaving their farms by the dozen, which seems a pretty good proof that +their antiquated system is at best no better than mine. But I can see what +they cannot see--signs of improvement. The steel industry is giving men +work; the iron industry is reviving; the mines are slowly coming into work +again; America is purchasing of us largely; and when other nations +purchase of us, part, at least, of the money always finds its way to the +farmer. Next season, too, the weather may be more propitious. + +'I shall hold on, Alick--a depression is certain to be followed by a rise. +That has been the history of trade and agriculture for generations. +Nothing will ever convince me that it was intended for English +agriculturists to go on using wooden ploughs, to wear smock-frocks, and +plod round and round in the same old track for ever. In no other way but +by science, by steam, by machinery, by artificial manure, and, in one +word, by the exercise of intelligence, can we compete with the world. It +is ridiculous to suppose we can do so by returning to the ignorance and +prejudice of our ancestors. No; we must beat the world by superior +intelligence and superior energy. But intelligence, mind, has ever had +every obstacle to contend against. Look at M. Lesseps and his wonderful +Suez Canal. I tell you that to introduce scientific farming into England, +in the face of tradition, custom, and prejudice, is a far harder task than +overcoming the desert sand.' + + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + +GOING DOWNHILL + + +An aged man, coming out of an arable field into the lane, pauses to look +back. He is shabbily clad, and there is more than one rent in his coat; +yet it is a coat that has once been a good one, and of a superior cut to +what a labourer would purchase. In the field the ploughman to whom he has +been speaking has started his team again. A lad walks beside the horses, +the iron creaks, and the ploughman holding the handles seems now to press +upon them with his weight, and now to be himself bodily pulled along. A +dull November cloud overspreads the sky, and misty skits of small rain +sweep across the landscape. As the old man looks back from the gate, the +chill breeze whistles through the boughs of the oak above him, tearing off +the brown dry leaves, and shaking out the acorns to fall at his feet. It +lifts his grey hair, and penetrates the threadbare coat. As he turns to +go, something catches his eye on the ground, and from the mud in the +gateway he picks up a cast horse-shoe. With the rusty iron in his hand he +passes slowly down the lane, and, as he goes, the bitter wind drives the +fallen leaves that have been lying beside the way rustling and dancing +after him. + +From a farmer occupying a good-sized farm he had descended to be a +farmer's bailiff in the same locality. But a few months since he was +himself a tenant, and now he is a bailiff at 15_s_. a week and a cottage. +There is nothing dramatic, nothing sensational, in the history of his +descent; but it is, perhaps, all the more full of bitter human +experiences. As a man going down a steep hill, after a long while finds +himself on the edge of a precipitous chalk pit, and topples in one fall to +the bottom, so, though the process of going downhill occupied so long, the +actual finish came almost suddenly. Thus it was that from being a master +he found himself a servant. He does not complain, nor appeal for pity. His +back is a little more bowed, he feels the cold a little more, his step is +yet more spiritless. But all he says about it is that 'Hard work never +made any money yet.' + +He has worked exceedingly hard all his lifetime. In his youth, though the +family were then well-to-do, he was not permitted to lounge about in +idleness, but had to work with the rest in the fields. He dragged his +heavy nailed shoes over the furrows with the plough; he reaped and loaded +in harvest time; in winter he trimmed the hedgerows, split logs, and +looked after the cattle. He enjoyed no luxurious education--luxurious in +the sense of scientifically arranged dormitories, ample meals, and +vacations to be spent on horseback, or with the breechloader. Trudging to +and fro the neighbouring country town, in wind, and wet, and snow, to +school, his letters were thrashed into him. In holiday time he went to +work--his holidays, in fact, were so arranged as to fall at the time when +the lad could be of most use in the field. If an occasion arose when a lad +was wanted, his lessons had to wait while he lent a hand. He had his play, +of course, as boys in all ages have had; but it was play of a rude +character with the plough lads, and the almost equally rough sons of +farmers, who worked like ploughmen. + +In those days the strong made no pretence to protect the weak, or to +abnegate their natural power. The biggest lad used his thews and sinews to +knock over the lesser without mercy, till the lesser by degrees grew +strong enough to retaliate. To be thrashed, beaten, and kicked was so +universal an experience that no one ever imagined it was not correct, or +thought of complaining. They accepted it as a matter of course. As he grew +older his work simply grew harder, and in no respect differed from that of +the labourers, except that he directed what should be done next, but none +the less assisted to do it. + +Thus the days went on, the weeks, and months, and years. He was close upon +forty years old before he had his own will for a single day. Up to almost +that age he worked on his father's farm as a labourer among the labourers, +as much under parental authority as when he was a boy of ten. When the old +man died it was not surprising that the son, so long held down in +bondage--bondage from which he had not the spirit to escape--gave way for +a short period to riotous living. There was hard drinking, horse-racing, +and card-playing, and waste of substance generally. + +But it was not for long, for several reasons. In the first place, the lad +of forty years, suddenly broken forth as it were from school, had gone +past the age when youth plunges beyond recall. He was a grown man, neither +wise nor clever; but with a man's sedateness of spirit and a man's hopes. +There was no innate evil in his nature to lead him into unrighteous +courses. Perhaps his fault rather lay in his inoffensive disposition--he +submitted too easily. Then, in the second place, there was not much money, +and what there was had to meet many calls. + +The son found that the father, though reputed a substantial man, and a man +among farmers of high esteem and good family, had been anything but rich. +First there were secret debts that had run on for fully thirty years--sums +of from fifty to one hundred pounds--borrowed in the days of his youth, +when he, too, had at last been released in a similar manner from similar +bondage, to meet the riotous living in which he also had indulged. In +those earlier days there had been more substance in cattle and corn, and +he had had no difficulty in borrowing ready money from adjoining farmers, +who afterwards helped him to drink it away. These boon companions had now +grown old. They had never pressed their ancient comrade for the principal, +the interest being paid regularly. But now their ancient comrade was dead +they wanted their money, especially when they saw the son indulging +himself, and did not know how far he might go. Their money was paid, and +reduced the balance in hand materially. + +Now came a still more serious matter. The old man, years ago, when corn +farming paid so handsomely, had been induced by the prospect of profit to +take a second and yet larger farm, nearly all arable. To do this he was +obliged, in farming phrase, to 'take up'--_i.e._ to borrow--a thousand +pounds, which was advanced to him by the bank. Being a man of substance, +well reputed, and at that date with many friends, the thousand pounds was +forthcoming readily, and on favourable terms. The enterprise, however, did +not prosper; times changed, and wheat was not so profitable. In the end he +had the wisdom to accept his losses and relinquish the second farm before +it ate him up. Had he only carried his wisdom a little farther and repaid +the whole of the bank's advance, all might yet have been well. But he only +repaid five hundred pounds, leaving five hundred pounds still owing. The +bank having regularly received the interest, and believing the old +gentleman upright--as he was--was not at all anxious to have the money +back, as it was earning fair interest. So the five hundred remained on +loan, and, as it seemed, for no very definite purpose. + +Whether the old gentleman liked to feel that he had so much money at +command (a weakness of human nature common enough), or whether he thought +he could increase the produce of his farm by putting it in the soil, it is +not possible to say. He certainly put the five hundred out of sight +somewhere, for when his son succeeded him it was nowhere to be found. +After repaying the small loans to his father's old friends, upon looking +round the son saw cattle, corn, hay, and furniture, but no five hundred +pounds in ready money. The ready money had been muddled away--simply +muddled away, for the old man had worked hard, and was not at all +extravagant. + +The bank asked for the five hundred, but not in a pressing manner, for the +belief still existed that there was money in the family. That belief was +still further fostered because the old friends whose loans had been repaid +talked about that repayment, and so gave a colour to the idea. The heir, +in his slow way, thought the matter over and decided to continue the loan. +He could only repay it by instalments--a mode which, to a farmer brought +up in the old style, is almost impossible, for though he might meet one he +would be sure to put off the next--or by selling stock (equivalent to +giving up his place), or by borrowing afresh. So he asked and obtained a +continuation of the loan of the five hundred, and was accommodated, on +condition that some one 'backed' him. Some one in the family did back him, +and the fatal mistake was committed of perpetuating this burden. A loan +never remains at the same sum; it increases if it is not reduced. In +itself the five hundred was not at all a heavy amount for the farm to +carry, but it was the nucleus around which additional burdens piled +themselves up. By a species of gravitation such a burden attracts others, +till the last straw breaks the camel's back. This, however, was not all. + +The heir discovered another secret which likewise contributed to sober +him. It appeared that the farm, or rather the stock and so on, was really +not all his father's. His father's brother had a share in it--a share of +which even the most inquisitive gossips of the place were ignorant. The +brother being the eldest (himself in business as a farmer at some +distance) had the most money, and had advanced a certain sum to the +younger to enable him to start his farm, more than a generation since. +From that day to this not one shilling of the principal had been repaid, +and the interest only partially and at long intervals. If the interest +were all claimed it would now amount to nearly as much as the principal. +The brother--or, rather, the uncle--did not make himself at all unpleasant +in the matter. He only asked for about half the interest due to him, and +at the same time gave the heir a severe caution not to continue the +aforesaid riotous living. The heir, now quite brought down to earth after +his momentary exaltation, saw the absolute necessity of acquiescence. With +a little management he paid the interest--leaving himself with barely +enough to work the farm. The uncle, on his part, did not act unkindly; it +was he who 'backed' the heir up at the bank in the matter of the +continuation of the loan of the five hundred pounds. This five hundred +pounds the heir had never seen and never would see: so far as he was +concerned it did not exist; it was a mere figure, but a figure for which +he must pay. In all these circumstances there was nothing at all +exceptional. + +At this hour throughout the width and breadth of the country there are +doubtless many farmers' heirs stepping into their fathers' shoes, and at +this very moment looking into their affairs. It may be safely said that +few indeed are those fortunate individuals who find themselves clear of +similar embarrassments. In this particular case detailed above, if the +heir's circumstances had been rigidly reduced to figures--if a +professional accountant had examined them--it would have been found that, +although in possession of a large farm, he had not got one scrap of +capital. + +But he was in possession of the farm, and upon that simple fact of +possession he henceforth lived, like so many, many more of his class. He +returned to the routine of labour, which was a part of his life. After +awhile he married, as a man of forty might naturally wish to, and without +any imputation of imprudence so far as his own age was concerned. The wife +he chose was one from his own class, a good woman, but, as is said to be +often the case, she reflected the weakness of her husband's character. He +now worked harder than ever--a labourer with the labourers. He thus saved +himself the weekly expense of the wages of a labourer--perhaps, as +labourers do not greatly exert themselves, of a man and a boy. But while +thus slaving with his hands and saving this small sum in wages, he could +not walk round and have an eye upon the other men. They could therefore +waste a large amount of time, and thus he lost twice what he saved. Still, +his intention was commendable, and his persistent, unvarying labour really +wonderful. Had he but been sharper with his men he might still have got a +fair day's work out of them while working himself. From the habit of +associating with them from boyhood he had fallen somewhat into their own +loose, indefinite manner, and had lost the prestige which attaches to a +master. To them he seemed like one of themselves, and they were as much +inclined to argue with him as to obey. When he met them in the morning he +would say, 'Perhaps we had better do so and so,' or 'Suppose we go and do +this or that.' They often thought otherwise; and it usually ended in a +compromise, the master having his way in part, and the men in part. This +lack of decision ran through all, and undid all that his hard work +achieved. Everything was muddled from morn till night, from year's end to +year's end. As children came the living indoors became harder, and the +work out of doors still more laborious. + +If a farmer can put away fifty pounds a year, after paying his rent and +expenses, if he can lay by a clear fifty pounds of profit, he thinks +himself a prosperous man. If this farmer, after forty years of saving, +should chance to be succeeded by a son as thrifty, when, he too has +carried on the same process for another twenty years, then the family may +be, for village society, wealthy, with three or even four thousand pounds, +besides goods and gear. This is supposing all things favourable, and men +of some ability, making the most of their opportunities. Now reverse the +process. When children came, as said before, our hard-working farmer found +the living indoors harder, and the labour without heavier. Instead of +saving fifty pounds a year, at first the two sides of the account (not +that he ever kept any books) about balanced. Then, by degrees, the balance +dropped the wrong way. There was a loss, of twenty or thirty pounds on the +year, and presently of forty or fifty pounds, which could only be made +good by borrowing, and so increasing the payment of interest. + +Although it takes sixty years--two generations--to accumulate a village +fortune by saving fifty pounds a year, it does not occupy so long to +reduce a farmer to poverty when half that sum is annually lost. There was +no strongly marked and radical defect in his system of farming to amount +for it; it was the muddling, and the muddling only, that did it. His work +was blind. He would never miss giving the pigs their dinner, he rose at +half-past three in the morning, and foddered the cattle in the grey dawn, +or milked a certain number of cows, with unvarying regularity. But he had +no foresight, and no observation whatever. If you saw him crossing a +field, and went after him, you might walk close behind, placing your foot +in the mark just left by his shoe, and he would never know it. With his +hands behind his back, and his eyes upon the ground, he would plod across +the field, perfectly unconscious that any one was following him. He +carried on the old rotation of cropping in the piece of arable land +belonging to the farm, but in total oblivion of any advantage to be +obtained by local change of treatment. He could plan nothing out for next +year. He spent nothing, or next to nothing, on improved implements; but, +on the other hand, he saved nothing, from a lack of resource and +contrivance. + +As the years went by he fell out of the social life of the times; that is, +out of the social life of his own circle. He regularly fed the pigs; but +when he heard that the neighbours, were all going in to the town to attend +some important agricultural meeting, or to start some useful movement, he +put his hands behind his back and said that he should not go; he did not +understand anything about it. There never used to be anything of that +sort. So he went in to luncheon on bread and cheese and small ale. Such a +course could only bring him into the contempt of his fellow-men. He became +a nonentity. No one had any respect for or confidence in him. Otherwise, +possibly, he might have obtained powerful help, for the memory of what his +family had been had not yet died out. + +Men saw that he lived and worked as a labourer; they gave him no credit +for the work, but they despised him for the meanness and churlishness of +his life. There was neither a piano nor a decanter of sherry in his house. +He was utterly out of accord with the times. By degrees, after many years, +it became apparent to all that he was going downhill. The stock upon the +farm was not so large nor of so good a character as had been the case. The +manner of men visibly changed towards him. The small dealers, even the +very carriers along the road, the higglers, and other persons who call at +a farm on petty business, gave him clearly to know in their own coarse way +that they despised him. They flatly contradicted him, and bore him down +with loud tongues. He stood it all meekly, without showing any spirit; +but, on the other hand, without resentment, for he never said ill of any +man behind his back. + +It was put about now that he drank, because some busybody had seen a jar +of spirits carried into the house from the wine merchant's cart. A jar of +spirits had been delivered at the house at intervals for years and years, +far back into his father's time, and every one of those who now expressed +their disgust at his supposed drinking habits had sipped their tumblers in +that house without stint. He did not drink--he did not take one-half at +home what his neighbours imbibed without injury at markets and auctions +every week of their lives. But he was growing poor, and they called to +mind that brief spell of extravagance years ago, and pointed out to their +acquaintances how the sin of the Prodigal was coming home to him. + +No man drinks the bitter cup of poverty to the dregs like the declining +farmer. The descent is so slow; there is time to drain every drop, and to +linger over the flavour. It may be eight, or ten, or fifteen years about. +He cannot, like the bankrupt tradesman, even when the fatal notice comes, +put up his shutters at once and retire from view. Even at the end, after +the notice, six months at least elapse before all is over--before the farm +is surrendered, and the sale of household furniture and effects takes +place. He is full in public view all that time. So far as his neighbours +are concerned he is in public view for years previously. He has to rise in +the morning and meet them in the fields. He sees them in the road; he +passes through groups of them in the market-place. As he goes by they look +after him, and perhaps audibly wonder how long he will last. These people +all knew him from a lad, and can trace every inch of his descent. The +labourers in the field know it, and by their manner show that they know +it. + +His wife--his wife who worked so hard for so many, many years--is made to +know it too. She is conspicuously omitted from the social gatherings that +occur from time to time. The neighbours' wives do not call; their +well-dressed daughters, as they rattle by to the town in basket-carriage +or dog-cart, look askance at the shabby figure walking slowly on the path +beside the road. They criticise the shabby shawl; they sneer at the slow +step which is the inevitable result of hard work, the cares of maternity, +and of age. So they flaunt past with an odour of perfume, and leave the +'old lady' to plod unrecognised. + +The end came at last. All this blind work of his was of no avail against +the ocean steamer and her cargo of wheat and meat from the teeming regions +of the West. Nor was it of avail against the fall of prices, and the +decreased yield consequent upon a succession of bad seasons. The general +lack of confidence pressed heavily upon a man who did not even attempt to +take his natural place among his fellow-men. The loan from the bank had +gradually grown from five to seven or eight hundred by thirties, and +forties, and fifties added to it by degrees; and the bank--informed, +perhaps, by the same busybodies who had discovered that he drank--declined +further assistance, and notified that part, at least, of the principal +must be repaid. The landlord had long been well aware of the state of +affairs, but refrained from action out of a feeling for the old family. +But the land, from the farmer's utter lack of capital, was now going from +bad to worse. The bank having declined to advance further, the rent began +to fall into arrear. The landlord caused it to be conveyed to his tenant +that if he would quit the farm, which was a large one, he could go into a +smaller, and his affairs might perhaps be arranged. + +The old man--for he was now growing old--put his hands behind his back and +said nothing, but went on with his usual routine of work. Whether he had +become dulled and deadened and cared nothing, whether hope was extinct, or +he could not wrench himself from the old place, he said nothing. Even then +some further time elapsed--so slow is the farmer's fall that he might +almost be excused for thinking that it would never come. But now came the +news that the old uncle who had 'backed' him at the bank had been found +dead in bed of sheer old age. Then the long-kept secret came out at last. +The dead man's executors claimed the money advanced so many, many years +ago. + +This discovery finished it. The neighbours soon had food for gossip in the +fact that a load of hay which he had sold was met in the road by the +landlord's agent and turned back. By the strict letter of his agreement he +could not sell hay off the farm; but it had been permitted for years. When +they heard this they knew it was all over. The landlord, of course, put in +his claim; the bank theirs. In a few months the household furniture and +effects were sold, and the farmer and his aged wife stepped into the +highway in their shabby clothes. + +He did not, however, starve; he passed to a cottage on the outskirts of +the village, and became bailiff for the tenant of that very arable farm to +work which years ago his father had borrowed the thousand pounds that +ultimately proved their ruin. He made a better bailiff than a farmer, +being at home with every detail of practice, but incapable of general +treatment. His wife does a little washing and charing; not much, for she +is old and feeble. No charity is offered to them--they have outlived old +friends--nor do they appeal for any. The people of the village do not heed +them, nor reflect upon the spectacle in their midst. They are merged and +lost in the vast multitude of the agricultural poor. Only two of their +children survive; but these, having early left the farm and gone into a +city, are fairly well-to-do. That, at least, is a comfort to the old folk. + +It is, however, doubtful whether the old man, as he walks down the lane +with his hands behind his back and the dead leaves driven by the November +breeze rustling after, has much feeling of any kind left. Hard work and +adversity have probably deadened his finer senses. Else one would think he +could never endure to work as a servant upon that farm of all others, nor +to daily pass the scenes of his youth. For yonder, well in sight as he +turns a corner of the lane, stands the house where he dwelt so many, many +years; where the events of his life came slowly to pass; where he was +born; where his bride came home; where his children were born, and from +whose door he went forth penniless. + +Seeing this every day, surely that old man, if he have but one spark of +feeling left, must drink the lees of poverty to the last final doubly +bitter dregs. + + + + + +CHAPTER V + + + +THE BORROWER AND THE GAMBLER + + +'Where do he get the money from, you?' 'It be curious, bean't it; I minds +when his father drove folks' pigs to market.' These remarks passed between +two old farmers, one standing on the sward by the roadside, and the other +talking to him over the low ledge, as a gentleman drove by in a +Whitechapel dog-cart, groom behind. The gentleman glanced at the two +farmers, and just acknowledged their existence with a careless nod, +looking at the moment over their heads and far away. + +There is no class so jealous of a rapid rise as old-fashioned farming +people. They seem to think that if a man once drove pigs to market he +should always continue to do so, and all his descendants likewise. Their +ideas in a measure approximate to those of caste among the Hindoos. It is +a crime to move out of the original groove; if a man be lowly he must +remain lowly, or never be forgiven. The lapse of time makes not the least +difference. If it takes the man thirty years to get into a fair position +he is none the less guilty. A period equal to the existence of a +generation is not sufficient excuse for him. He is not one whit better +than if he had made his money by a lucky bet on a racehorse. Nor can he +ever hope to live down this terrible social misdemeanour, especially if it +is accompanied by the least ostentation. + +Now, in the present day a man who gets money shows off more than ever was +the case. In the olden time the means of luxury were limited, and the +fortunate could do little more than drink, and tempt others to drink. But +to-day the fortunate farmer in the dog-cart, dressed like a gentleman, +drove his thorough-bred, and carried his groom behind. Frank D----, Esq., +in the slang of the time, 'did the thing grand!' The dog-cart was a +first-rate article. The horse was a high-stepper, such as are not to be +bought for a song; the turn-out was at the first glance perfect. But if +you looked keenly at the groom, there was a suspicion of the plough in his +face and attitude. He did not sit like a man to the manner born. He was +lumpy; he lacked the light, active style characteristic of the +thoroughbred groom, who is as distinct a breed as the thoroughbred horse. +The man looked as if he had been taken from the plough and was conscious +of it. His feet were in top-boots, but he could not forget the heavy +action induced by a long course of walking in wet furrows. The critics by +the hedge were not capable of detecting these niceties. The broad facts +were enough for them. There was the gentleman in his ulster, there was the +resplendent turn-out, there was the groom, and there was the thoroughbred +horse. The man's father drove their pigs to market, and they wanted to +know where he got the money from. + +Meantime Mr. D----, having carelessly nodded, had gone on. Half a mile +farther some of his own fields were contiguous to the road, yet he did +not, after the fashion of the farmer generally, pause to gaze at them +searchingly; he went on with the same careless glance. This fact, which +the old-fashioned folk had often observed, troubled them greatly. It +seemed so unnatural, so opposite to the old ideas and ways, that a man +should take no apparent interest in his own farm. They said that Frank was +nothing of a farmer; he knew nothing of farming. They looked at his ricks; +they were badly built, and still worse thatched. They examined his +meadows, and saw wisps of hay lying about, evidence of neglect; the fields +had not been properly raked. His ploughed fields were full of weeds, and +not half worked enough. His labourers had acquired a happy-go-lucky style, +and did their work anyhow or not at all, having no one to look after them. +So, clearly, it was not Frank's good farming that made him so rich, and +enabled him to take so high and leading a position. + +Nor was it his education or his 'company' manners. The old folk noted his +boorishness and lack of the little refinements which mark the gentleman. +His very voice was rude and hoarse, and seemed either to grumble or to +roar forth his meaning. They had frequently heard him speak in public--he +was generally on the platform when any local movement was in progress--and +could not understand why he was put up there to address the audience, +unless it was for his infinite brass. The language he employed was rude, +his sentences disjointed, his meaning incoherent; but he had a knack of an +_apropos_ jest, not always altogether savoury, but which made a mixed +assembly laugh. As his public speeches did not seem very brilliant, they +supposed he must have the gift of persuasion, in private. He did not even +ride well to hounds--an accomplishment that has proved a passport to a +great landlord's favour before now--for he had an awkward, and, to the +eye, not too secure a seat in the saddle. + +Nor was it his personal appearance. He was very tall and ungainly, with a +long neck and a small round head on the top of it. His features were flat, +and the skin much wrinkled; there seemed nothing in his countenance to +recommend him to the notice of the other sex. Yet he had been twice +married; the last time to a comparatively young lady with some money, who +dressed in the height of fashion. + +Frank had two families--one, grown up, by his first wife, the second in +the nursery--but it made no difference to him. All were well dressed and +well educated; the nursery maids and the infants went out for their +airings in a carriage and pair. Mrs. D----, gay as a Parisian belle, and +not without pretensions to beauty, was seen at balls, parties, and every +other social amusement. She seemed to have the _entrée_ everywhere in the +county. All this greatly upset and troubled the old folk, whose heads +Frank looked over as he carelessly nodded them good-morning driving by. +The cottage people from whose ranks his family had so lately risen, +however, had a very decided opinion upon the subject, and expressed it +forcibly. "'Pend upon it," they said, "'pend upon it, he have zucked +zumbody in zumhow." + +This unkind conclusion was perhaps not quite true. The fact was, that +Frank, aided by circumstances, had discovered the ease with which a man +can borrow. That was his secret--his philosopher's stone. To a certain +extent, and in certain ways, he really was a clever man, and he had the +luck to begin many years ago when farming was on the ascending side of the +cycle. The single solid basis of his success was his thorough knowledge of +cattle--his proficiency in dealership. Perhaps this was learnt while +assisting his father to drive other folks' pigs to market. At all events, +there was no man in the county who so completely understood cattle and +sheep, for buying and selling purposes, as Frank. At first he gained his +reputation by advising others what and when to buy; by degrees, as people +began to see that he was always right, they felt confidence in him, and +assisted him to make small investments on his own account. There were then +few auctioneers, and cattle were sold in open market. If a man really was +a judge, it was as good to him as a reputation for good ale is to an +innkeeper. Men flock to a barrel of good ale no matter whether the inn be +low class or high class. Men gather about a good judge of cattle, and will +back him up. By degrees D---- managed to rent a small farm, more for the +purpose of having a place to turn his cattle into than for farming +proper--he was, in fact, a small dealer. + +Soon afterwards there was an election. During the election, Frank gained +the good-will of a local solicitor and political agent. He proved himself +an active and perhaps a discreetly unscrupulous assistant. The solicitor +thought he saw in Frank talent of a certain order--a talent through which +he (the solicitor) might draw unto himself a share of other people's +money. The lawyer's judgment of men was as keen as Frank's judgment of +cattle. He helped Frank to get into a large farm, advancing the money with +which to work it. He ran no risk; for, of course, he had Frank tight in +the grasp of his legal fist, and he was the agent for the landlord. The +secret was this--the lawyer paid his clients four per cent, for the safe +investment of their money. Frank had the money, worked a large farm with +it, and speculated in the cattle markets, and realised some fifteen or +perhaps twenty per cent., of which the lawyer took the larger share. +Something of this sort has been done in other businesses besides farming. +Frank, however, was not the man to remain in a state of tutelage, working +for another. His forte was not saving--simple accumulation was not for +him; but he looked round the district to discover those who had saved. + +Now, it is a fact that no man is so foolish with his money as the working +farmer in a small way, who has put by a little coin. He is extremely +careful about a fourpenny piece, and will wrap a sovereign up in several +scraps of paper lest he should lose it; but with his hundred or two +hundred pounds he is quite helpless. It has very likely occupied him the +best part of his lifetime to add one five-pound note to another, money +most literally earned in the sweat of his brow; and at last he lends it to +a man like Frank, who has the wit to drive a carriage and ride a +thoroughbred. With the strange inconsistency so characteristic of human +nature, a half-educated, working farmer of this sort will sneer in his +rude way at the pretensions of such a man, and at the same time bow down +before him. + +Frank knew this instinctively, and, as soon as ever he began to get on, +set up a blood-horse and a turn-out. By dint of such vulgar show and his +own plausible tongue he persuaded more than one such old fellow to advance +him money. Mayhap these confiding persons, like a certain Shallow, J.P., +have since earnestly besought him in vain to return them five hundred of +their thousand. In like manner one or two elderly ladies--cunning as +magpies in their own conceit--let him have a few spare hundreds. They +thought they could lay out this money to better advantage than the safe +family adviser 'uncle John,' with his talk of the Indian railways and a +guaranteed five per cent. They thought (for awhile) that they had done a +very clever thing on the sly in lending their spare hundreds to the great +Mr. Frank D---- at a high rate of interest, and by this time would perhaps +be glad to get the money back again in the tea-caddy. + +But Frank was not the man to be satisfied with such small game. After a +time he succeeded in getting at the 'squire.' The squire had nothing but +the rents of his farms to live upon, and was naturally anxious for an +improving tenant who would lay out money and put capital into the soil. He +was not so foolish as to think that Frank was a safe man, and of course he +had legal advice upon the matter. The squire thought, in fact, that +although Frank himself had no money, Frank could get it out of others, and +spend it upon his place. It did not concern the squire where or how Frank +got his money, provided he had it--he as landlord was secure in case of a +crash, because the law gave him precedence over all other creditors. So +Frank ultimately stepped into one of the squire's largest farms and cut a +finer dash than ever. + +There are distinct social degrees in agriculture. The man who occupies a +great farm under a squire is a person of much more importance than he who +holds a little tenancy of a small proprietor. Frank began to take the lead +among the farmers of the neighbourhood, to make his appearance at public +meetings, and to become a recognised politician--of course upon the side +most powerful in that locality, and most likely to serve his own interest. +His assurance, and, it must be owned, his ready wit, helped him in coming +to the front. When at the front, he was invited to the houses of really +well-to-do country people. They condoned his bluff manners--they were the +mark of the true, solid British agriculturist. Some perhaps in their +hearts thought that another day they might want a tenant, and this man +would serve their turn. As a matter of fact, Frank took every unoccupied +farm which he could get at a tolerably reasonable rent. He never seemed +satisfied with the acreage he held, but was ever desirous of extending it. +He took farm after farm, till at last he held an area equal to a fine +estate. For some years there has been a disposition on the part of +landlords to throw farms together, making many small ones into one large +one. For the time, at all events, Frank seemed to do very well with all +these farms to look after. Of course the same old-fashioned folk made +ill-natured remarks, and insisted upon it that he merely got what he could +out of the soil, and did not care in the least how the farming was done. +Nevertheless, he flourished--the high prices and general inflation of the +period playing into his hand. + +Frank was now a very big man, the biggest man thereabout. And it was now +that he began to tap another source of supply--to, as it were, open a +fresh cask--_i.e._ the local bank. At first he only asked for a hundred or +so, a mere bagatelle, for a few days--only temporary convenience. The bank +was glad to get hold of what really looked like legitimate business, and +he obtained the bagatelle in the easiest manner--so easily that it +surprised him. He did not himself yet quite know how completely his showy +style of life, his large acreage, his speeches, and politics, and +familiarity with great people, had imposed upon the world in which he +lived. He now began to realise that he was somebody. He repaid the loan to +the day, waited awhile and took a larger one, and from that time the +frequency and the amount of his loans went on increasing. + +We have seen in these latter days bank directors bitterly complaining that +they could not lend money at more than 7/8 or even 1/2 per cent., so +little demand was there for accommodation. They positively could not lend +their money; they had millions in their tills unemployed, and practically +going a-begging. But here was Frank paying seven per cent, for short +loans, and upon a continually enlarging amount. His system, so far as the +seasons were concerned, was something like this. He took a loan (or +renewed an old one) at the bank on the security of the first draught of +lambs for sale, say, in June. This paid the labourers and the working +expenses of the hay harvest, and of preparing for the corn. He took the +next upon the second draught of lambs in August, which paid the reapers. +He took a third on the security of the crops, partly cut, or in process of +cutting, for his Michaelmas rent. Then for the fall of the year he kept on +threshing out and selling as he required money, and had enough left to pay +for the winter's work. This was Frank's system--the system of too many +farmers, far more than would be believed. Details of course vary, and not +all, like Frank, need three loans at least in the season to keep them +going. It is not every man who mortgages his lambs, his ewes (the draught +from a flock for sale), and the standing crops in succession. + +But of late years farming has been carried on in such an atmosphere of +loans, and credit, and percentage, and so forth, that no one knows what is +or what is not mortgaged. You see a flock of sheep on a farm, but you do +not know to whom they belong. You see the cattle in the meadow, but you do +not know who has a lien upon them. You see the farmer upon his +thoroughbred, but you do not know to whom in reality the horse belongs. It +is all loans and debt. The vendors of artificial manure are said not to be +averse sometimes to make an advance on reasonable terms to those +enterprising and deserving farmers who grow so many tons of roots, and win +the silver cups, and so on, for the hugest mangold grown with their +particular manure. The proprietors of the milk-walks in London are said to +advance money to the struggling dairymen who send them their milk. And +latterly the worst of usurers have found out the farmers--_i.e._ the men +who advance on bills of sale of furniture, and sell up the wretched client +who does not pay to the hour. Upon such bills of sale English farmers have +been borrowing money, and with the usual disastrous results. In fact, till +the disastrous results became so conspicuous, no one guessed that the +farmer had descended so far. Yet, it is a fact, and a sad one. + +All the while the tradespeople of the market-towns--the very people who +have made the loudest outcry about the depression and the losses they have +sustained--these very people have been pressing their goods upon the +farmers, whom they must have known were many of them hardly able to pay +their rents. Those who have not seen it cannot imagine what a struggle and +competition has been going on in little places where one would think the +very word was unknown, just to persuade the farmer and the farmer's family +to accept credit. But there is another side to it. The same tradesman who +to-day begs--positively begs--the farmer to take his goods on any terms, +in six months' time sends his bill, and, if it be not paid immediately, +puts the County Court machinery in motion. + +Now this to the old-fashioned farmer is a very bitter thing. He has never +had the least experience of the County Court; his family never were sued +for debt since they can remember. They have always been used to a year's +credit at least--often two, and even three. To be threatened with public +exposure in the County Court because a little matter of five pounds ten is +not settled instantly is bitter indeed. And to be sued so arbitrarily by +the very tradesman who almost stuffed his goods down their throats is more +bitter still. + +Frank D----, Esq.'s coarse grandeur answered very well indeed so long as +prices were high. While the harvests were large and the markets inflated; +while cattle fetched good money; while men's hearts were full of +mirth--all went well. It is whispered now that the grand Frank has +secretly borrowed 25_l_. of a little cottage shopkeeper in the adjacent +village--a man who sells farthing candles and ounces of tea--to pay his +reapers. It is also currently whispered that Frank is the only man really +safe, for the following reason--they are all 'in' so deep they find it +necessary to keep him going. The squire is 'in,' the bank is 'in,' the +lawyer is 'in,' the small farmers with two hundred pounds capital are +'in,' and the elderly ladies who took their bank-notes out of their +tea-caddies are 'in.' That is to say, Mr. Frank owes them so much money +that, rather than he should come to grief (when, they must lose pretty +well all), they prefer to keep him afloat. It is a noticeable fact that +Frank is the only man who has not raised his voice and shouted +'Depression.' Perhaps the squire thinks that so repellent a note, if +struck by a leading man like Frank, might not be to his interest, and has +conveyed that thought to the gentleman in the dog-cart with the groom +behind. There are, however, various species of the façade farmer. + +'What kind of agriculture is practised here?' the visitor from town +naturally asks his host, as they stroll towards the turnips (in another +district), with shouldered guns. 'Oh, you had better see Mr. X----,' is +the reply, 'He is our leading agriculturist; he'll tell you all about it.' +Everybody repeats the same story, and once Mr. X----'s name is started +everybody talks of him. The squire, the clergyman--even in casually +calling at a shop in the market town, or at the hotel (there are few inns +now)--wherever he goes the visitor hears from all of Mr. X----. A +successful man--most successful, progressive, scientific, intellectual. +'Like to see him? Nothing easier. Introduction? Nonsense. Why, he'd be +delighted to see you. Come with me.' + +Protesting feebly against intruding on privacy, the visitor is hurried +away, and expecting to meet a solid, sturdy, and somewhat gruff old +gentleman of the John Hull type, endeavors to hunt up some ideas about +shorthorns and bacon pigs. He is a little astonished upon entering the +pleasure grounds to see one or more gardeners busy among the parterres and +shrubberies, the rhododendrons, the cedar deodaras, the laurels, the +pampas grass, the 'carpet gardening' beds, and the glass of distant +hothouses glittering in the sun. A carriage and pair, being slowly driven +by a man in livery from the door down to the extensive stabling, +passes--clearly some of the family have just returned. On ringing, the +callers are shown through a spacious hall with a bronze or two on the +marble table, into a drawing-room, elegantly furnished. There is a short +iron grand open with a score carelessly left by the last player, a harp in +the corner, half hidden by the curtains, some pieces of Nankin china on +the side tables. + +Where are the cow-sheds? Looking out of window a level lawn extends, and +on it two young gentlemen are playing tennis, in appropriate costume. The +laboured platitudes that had been prepared about shorthorns and bacon pigs +are quite forgotten, and the visitor is just about to ask the question if +his guide has not missed the farm-house and called at the squire's, when +Mr. X---- comes briskly in, and laughs all apology about intrusion to the +winds in his genial manner. He insists on his friends taking some +refreshment, will not take refusal; and such is the power of his vivacity, +that they find themselves sipping Madeira and are pressed to come and dine +in the evening, before one at least knows exactly where he is. 'Just a +homely spread, you know; pot-luck; a bit of fish and a glass of Moet; now +_do_ come.' This curious mixture of bluff cordiality, with unexpected +snatches of refinement, is Mr. X----'s great charm. 'Style of farming; +tell you with pleasure.' [Rings the bell.] 'John' (to the manservant), +'take this key and bring me account book No. 6 B, Copse Farm; that will be +the best way to begin.' + +If the visitor knows anything of country life, he cannot help recollecting +that, if the old type of farmer was close and mysterious about anything, +it was his accounts. Not a word could be got out of him of profit or loss, +or revenue: he would barely tell you his rent per acre, and it was +doubtful if his very wife ever saw his pass-book. Opening account book No. +6 B, the explanation proceeds. + +'My system of agriculture is simplicity itself, sir. It is all founded on +one beautiful commercial precept. Our friends round about here [with a +wave of the hand, indicating the country side]--our old folks--whenever +they got a guinea put it out of sight, made a hoard, hid it in a stocking, +or behind a brick in the chimney. Ha! ha! Consequently their operations +were always restricted to the same identical locality--no scope, sir, no +expansion. Now my plan is--invest every penny. Make every shilling pay for +the use of half a crown, and turn the half-crown into seven and sixpence. +Credit is the soul of business. There you have it. Simplicity itself. Here +are the books; see for yourself. I publish my balance half-yearly--like a +company. Then the public see what you are doing. The earth, sir, as I said +at the dinner the other day (the idea was much applauded), the earth is +like the Bank of England--you may draw on it to any extent; there's always +a reserve to meet you. You positively can't overdraw the account. You see +there's such a solid security behind you. The fact is, I bring commercial +principles into agriculture; the result is, grand success. However, here's +the book; just glance over the figures.' + +The said figures utterly bewilder the visitor, who in courtesy runs his +eye from top to bottom of the long columns--farming accounts are really +the most complicated that can be imagined--so he, meantime, while turning +over the pages, mentally absorbs the personality of the commercial +agriculturist. He sees a tall, thin farmer, a brown face and neck, long +restless sinewy hands, perpetually twiddling with a cigar or a gold +pencil-case--generally the cigar, or rather the extinct stump of it, which +he every now and then sucks abstractedly, in total oblivion as to its +condition. His dress would pass muster in towns--well cut, and probably +from Bond Street. He affects a frock and high hat one day, and +knickerbockers and sun helmet the next. His pockets are full of papers, +letters, etc., and as he searches amid the mass for some memorandum to +show, glimpses may be seen of certain oblong strips of blue paper with an +impressed stamp. + +'Very satisfactory,' says the visitor, handing back No 6 B; 'may I inquire +how many acres you occupy?' + +Out comes a note-book. 'Hum! There's a thousand down in the vale, and +fifteen hundred upland, and the new place is about nine hundred, and the +meadows--I've mislaid the meadows--but it's near about four thousand. +Different holdings, of course. Great nuisance that, sir; transit, you see, +costs money. City gentlemen know that. Absurd system in this country--the +land parcelled out in little allotment gardens of two or three hundred +acres. Why, there's a little paltry hundred and twenty acre freehold dairy +farm lies between my vale and upland, and the fellow won't let my waggons +or ploughing-tackle take the short cut, ridiculous. Time it was altered, +sir. Shooting? Why, yes; I have the shooting. Glad if you'd come over.' + +Then more Madeira, and after it a stroll through the gardens and +shrubberies and down to the sheds, a mile, or nearly, distant. There, a +somewhat confused vision of 'grand shorthorns,' and an inexplicable jumble +of pedigrees, grand-dams, and 'g-g-g-g-g-g-dams,' as the catalogues have +it; handsome hunters paraded, steam-engines pumping water, steam-engines +slicing up roots, distant columns of smoke where steam-engines are tearing +up the soil. All the while a scientific disquisition on ammonia and the +constituent parts and probable value of town sewage as compared with +guano. And at intervals, and at parting, a pressing invitation to dinner +[when pineapples or hot-house grapes are certain to make their appearance +at dessert]--such a flow of genial eloquence surely was never heard +before! + +It requires a week at least of calm reflection, and many questions to his +host, before the visitor--quite carried away--can begin to arrange his +ideas, and to come slowly to the opinion that though Mr. X---- is as open +as the day and frank to a fault, it will take him a precious long time to +get to the bottom of Mr. X----'s system; that is to say, if there is any +bottom at all to it. + +Mr. X---- is, in brief, a gambler. Not in a dishonest, or even suspicious +sense, but a pure gambler. He is a gigantic agricultural speculator; his +system is, as he candidly told you, credit. Credit not only with the bank, +but with everybody. He has actually been making use of you, his casual and +unexpected visitor, as an instrument. You are certain to talk about him; +the more he is talked of the better, it gives him a reputation, which is +beginning to mean a great deal in agriculture as it has so long in other +pursuits. You are sure to tell everybody who ever chooses to converse with +you about the country of Mr. X----, and Mr. X----'s engines, cattle, +horses, profuse hospitality, and progressive science. + +To be socially popular is a part of his system; he sows corn among society +as freely as over his land, and looks to some grains to take root, and +bring him increase a hundred fold, as indeed they do. Whatever movement is +originated in the neighbourhood finds him occupying a prominent position. +He goes to London as the representative of the local agricultural chamber; +perhaps waits upon a Cabinet Minister as one of the deputation. He speaks +regularly at the local chamber meetings; his name is ever in the papers. +The press are invited to inspect his farms, and are furnished with minute +details. Every now and then a sketch of his life and doings, perhaps +illustrated with a portrait, appears in some agricultural periodical. At +certain seasons of the year parties of gentlemen are conducted over his +place. In parochial or district matters he is a leading man. + +Is it a cottage flower-show, a penny reading, a cricket club, a benefit +society--it does not matter what, his subscriptions, his name, and his +voice are heard in it. He is the life and soul of it; the energy comes +from him, though others higher in the scale may be the nominal heads. And +the nominal heads, knowing that he can be relied upon politically, are +grateful, and give him their good word freely. He hunts, and is a welcome +companion--the meet frequently takes place at his house, or some of the +huntsmen call for lunch; in fact, the latter is an invariable thing. +Everybody calls for lunch who happens to pass near any day; the house has +a reputation for hospitality. He is the clergyman's right hand--as in +managing the school committee. When the bishop comes to the confirmation, +he is introduced as 'my chief lay supporter.' At the Rural Diaconal +Conference, 'my chief supporter' is one of the lay speakers. Thus he +obtains every man's good word whose good word is worth anything. Social +credit means commercial credit. Yet he is not altogether acting a part--he +really likes taking the lead and pushing forward, and means a good deal of +what he says. + +He is especially quite honest in his hospitality. All the same, so far as +business is concerned, it is pure gambling, which may answer very well in +favourable times, but is not unlikely to end in failure should the strain +of depression become too severe. Personal popularity, however, will tide +him over a great deal. When a man is spoken highly of by gentry, clergy, +literally everybody, the bank is remarkably accommodating. Such a man may +get for his bare signature--almost pressed on him, as if his acceptance of +it were a favour--what another would have to deposit solid security for. + +In plain language, he borrows money and invests it in every possible way. +His farms are simply the basis of his credit. He buys blood shorthorns, he +buys blood horses, and he sells them again. He buys wheat, hay, &c., to +dispose of them at a profit. If he chose, he could explain to you the +meaning of contango, and even of that mysterious term to the uninitiated, +'backwardation.' His speculations for the 'account' are sometimes heavy. +So much so, that occasionally, with thousands invested, he has hardly any +ready money. But, then, there are the crops; he can get money on the +coming crops. There is, too, the live stock money can be borrowed on the +stock. + +Here lies the secret reason of the dread of foreign cattle disease. The +increase of our flocks and herds is, of course, a patriotic cry (and +founded on fact); but the secret pinch is this--if foot-and-mouth, +pleuro-pneumonia, or rinderpest threaten the stock, the tenant-farmer +cannot borrow on that security. The local bankers shake their heads--three +cases of rinderpest are equivalent to a reduction of 25 per cent. in the +borrowing power of the agriculturist. The auctioneers and our friends have +large transactions--'paper' here again. With certain members of the hunt +he books bets to a high amount; his face is not unknown at Tattersall's or +at the race meetings. But he does not flourish the betting-book in the +face of society. He bets--and holds his tongue. Some folks have an ancient +and foolish prejudice against betting; he respects sincere convictions. + +Far and away he is the best fellow, the most pleasant company in the +shire, always welcome everywhere. He has read widely, is well educated; +but, above all, he is ever jolly, and his jollity is contagious. Despite +his investments and speculations, his brow never wears that sombre aspect +of gloomy care, that knitted concentration of wrinkles seen on the face of +the City man, who goes daily to his 'office.' The out-of-door bluffness, +the cheery ringing voice, and the upright form only to be gained in the +saddle over the breezy uplands, cling to him still. He wakes everybody up, +and, risky as perhaps some of his speculations are, is socially +enlivening. + +The two young gentlemen, by-the-by, observed playing lawn-tennis from the +drawing-room window, are two of his pupils, whose high premiums and +payments assist to keep up the free and generous table, and who find +farming a very pleasant profession. The most striking characteristic of +their tutor is his Yankee-like fertility of resource and bold +innovations--the very antipodes of the old style of 'clod-compeller.' + + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + +AN AGRICULTURAL GENIUS-OLD STYLE + + +Towards the hour of noon Harry Hodson, of Upcourt Farm, was slowly +ascending the long slope that led to his dwelling. In his left hand he +carried a hare, which swung slightly to and fro as he stepped out, and the +black-tipped ears rubbed now and then against a bunch of grass. His +double-barrel was under his right arm. Every day at the same hour Harry +turned towards home, for he adhered to the ways of his fathers and dined +at half-past twelve, except when the stress of harvest, or some important +agricultural operation, disturbed the usual household arrangements. It was +a beautiful October day, sunny and almost still, and, as he got on the +high ground, he paused and looked round. The stubbles stretched far away +on one side, where the country rose and fell in undulations. On the +distant horizon a column of smoke, broadening at the top, lifted itself +into the sky; he knew it was from the funnel of a steam-plough, whose +furnace had just been replenished with coal. The appearance of the smoke +somewhat resembled that left by a steamer at sea when the vessel is just +below the horizon. On the other hand were wooded meadows, where the rooks +were cawing--some in the oaks, some as they wheeled round in the air. Just +beneath him stood a row of wheat ricks--his own. His gaze finally rested +upon their conical roofs with satisfaction, and he then resumed his walk. + +Even as he moved he seemed to bask in the sunshine; the sunshine pouring +down from the sky above, the material sunshine of the goodly wheat ricks, +and the physical sunshine of personal health and vigour. His walk was the +walk of a strong, prosperous man--each step long, steady, and firm, but +quite devoid of haste. He was, perhaps, forty years of age, in the very +prime of life, and though stooping a little, like so many countrymen, very +tall, and built proportionately broad across the shoulders and chest. His +features were handsome--perhaps there was a trace of indolence in their +good-humoured expression--and he had a thick black beard just marked with +one thin wavy line of grey. That trace of snow, if anything, rather added +to the manliness of his aspect, and conveyed the impression that he was at +the fulness of life when youth and experience meet. If anything, indeed, +he looked too comfortable, too placid. A little ambition, a little +restlessness, would perhaps have been good for him. + +By degrees he got nearer to the house; but it was by degrees only, for he +stayed to look over every gate, and up into almost every tree. He stopped +to listen as his ear caught the sound of hoofs on the distant road, and +again at the faint noise of a gun fired a mile away. At the corner of a +field a team of horses--his own--were resting awhile as the carter and his +lad ate their luncheon. Harry stayed to talk to the man, and yet again at +the barn door to speak to his men at work within with the winnowing +machine. The homestead stood on an eminence, but was hidden by elms and +sycamores, so that it was possible to pass at a distance without observing +it. + +On entering the sitting-room Harry leaned his gun against the wall in the +angle between it and the bureau, from which action alone it might have +been known that he was a bachelor, and that there were no children about +the house to get into danger with fire-arms. His elderly aunt, who acted +as housekeeper, was already at table waiting for him. It was spread with a +snow-white cloth, and almost equally snow-white platter for bread--so much +and so well was it cleaned. They ate home-baked bread; they were so many +miles from a town or baker that it was difficult to get served regularly, +a circumstance which preserved that wholesome institution. There was a +chine of bacon, small ale, and a plentiful supply of good potatoes. The +farmer did full justice to the sweet picking off the chine, and then +lingered over an old cheese. Very few words were spoken. + +Then, after his dinner, he sat in his arm-chair--the same that he had used +for many years--and took a book. For Harry rather enjoyed a book, provided +it was not too new. He read works of science, thirty years old, solid and +correct, but somewhat behind the age; he read histories, such as were +current in the early part of the present century, but none of a later date +than the end of the wars of the First Napoleon. The only thing modern he +cared for in literature was a 'society' journal, sent weekly from London. +These publications are widely read in the better class of farmsteads now. +Harry knew something of most things, even of geology. He could show you +the huge vertebrae of some extinct saurian, found while draining was being +done. He knew enough of archaeology to be able to tell any enthusiastic +student who chanced to come along where to find the tumuli and the +earthworks on the Downs. He had several Roman coins, and a fine bronze +spearhead, which had been found upon the farm. These were kept with care, +and produced to visitors with pride. Harry really did possess a wide fund +of solid, if quiet, knowledge. Presently, after reading a chapter or two, +he would drop off into a siesta, till some message came from the men or +the bailiff, asking for instructions. + +The farmstead was, in fact, a mansion of large size, an old manor-house, +and had it been situate near a fashionable suburb and been placed in +repair would have been worth to let as much per annum as the rent of a +small farm. But it stood in a singularly lonely and outlying position, far +from any village of size, much less a town, and the very highway even was +so distant that you could only hear the horse's hoofs when the current of +air came from that direction. This was his aunt's--the housekeeper's--great +complaint, the distance to the highway. She grumbled because she could not +see the carriers' carts and the teams go by; she wanted to know what was +going on. + +Harry, however, seemed contented with the placid calm of the vast house +that was practically empty, and rarely left it, except for his regular +weekly visit to market. After the fashion of a thoroughbred farmer he was +often rather late home on market nights. There were three brothers, all in +farms, and all well to do; the other two were married, and Harry was +finely plagued about being a bachelor. But the placid life at the old +place--he had succeeded to his father--somehow seemed to content him. He +had visitors at Christmas, he read his books of winter evenings and after +dinner; in autumn he strolled round with his double-barrel and knocked +over a hare or so, and so slumbered away the days. But he never neglected +the farming-everything was done almost exactly as it had been done by his +father. + +Old Harry Hodson was in his time one of the characters of that country +side. He was the true founder of the Hodson family. They had been yeomen +in a small way for generations, farming little holdings, and working like +labourers, plodding on, and never heard of outside their fifty-acre farms. +So they might have continued till this day had not old Harry Hodson arose +to be the genius--the very Napoleon--of farming in that district. When the +present Harry, the younger, had a visitor to his taste--_i.e._ one who was +not in a hurry--he would, in the evening, pull out the books and papers +and letters of his late father from the bureau (beside which stood the +gun), and explain how the money was made. The logs crackled and sparkled +on the hearth, the lamp burnt clear and bright; there was a low singing +sound in the chimney; the elderly aunt nodded and worked in her arm-chair, +and woke up and mixed fresh spirits and water, and went off to sleep +again; and still Harry would sit and smoke and sip and talk. By-and-by the +aunt would wish the visitor good-night, draw up the clock, and depart, +after mixing fresh tumblers and casting more logs upon the fire, for well +she knew her nephew's ways. Harry was no tippler, he never got +intoxicated; but he would sit and smoke and sip and talk with a friend, +and tell him all about it till the white daylight came peeping through the +chinks in the shutters. + +Old Harry Hodson, then, made the money, and put two of his sons in large +farms, and paid all their expenses, so that they started fair, besides +leaving his own farm to the third. Old Harry Hodson made the money, yet he +could not have done it had he not married the exact woman. Women have made +the fortunes of Emperors by their advice and assistance, and the greatest +men the world has seen have owned that their success was owing to feminine +counsel. In like manner a woman made the policy of an obscure farmer a +success. When the old gentleman began to get well to do, and when he found +his teeth not so strong as of yore, and his palate less able to face the +coarse, fat, yellowy bacon that then formed the staple of the household +fare, he actually ventured so far as to have one joint of butcher's meat, +generally a leg of mutton, once a week. It was cooked for Sunday, and, so +far as that kind of meat was concerned, lasted till the next Sunday. But +his wife met this extravagant innovation with furious opposition. It was +sheer waste; it was something almost unpardonably prodigal. They had eaten +bacon all their lives, often bacon with the bristles thick upon it, and to +throw away money like this was positively wicked. However, the-old +gentleman, being stubborn as a horse-nail, persisted; the wife, still +grumbling, calmed down; and the one joint of meat became an institution. +Harry, the younger, still kept it up; but it had lost its significance in +his day, for he had a fowl or two in the week, and a hare or a partridge, +and, besides, had the choicest hams. + +Now, this dispute between the old gentleman and his wife--this dispute as +to which should be most parsimonious--was typical of their whole course of +life. If one saved cheese-parings, the other would go without cheese at +all, and be content with dry bread. They lived--indeed, harder than their +own labourers, and it sometimes happened that the food they thought good +enough was refused by a cottager. When a strange carter, or shepherd, or +other labourer came to the house from a distance, perhaps with a waggon +for a load of produce or with some sheep, it was the custom to give them +some lunch. These men, unaccustomed even in their own cottages to such +coarse food, often declined to eat it, and went away empty, but not before +delivering their opinion of the fare, expressed in language of the rudest +kind. + +No economy was too small for old Hodson; in the house his wife did almost +all the work. Nowadays a farmer's house alone keeps the women of one, or +even two, cottages fully employed. The washing is sent out, and occupies +one cottage woman the best part of her spare time. Other women come in to +do the extra work, the cleaning up and scouring, and so on. The expense of +employing these women is not great; but still it is an expense. Old Mrs. +Hodson did everything herself, and the children roughed it how they could, +playing in the mire with the pigs and geese. Afterwards, when old Hodson +began to get a little money, they were sent to a school in a market town. +There they certainly did pick up the rudiments, but lived almost as hard +as at home. Old Hodson, to give an instance of his method, would not even +fatten a pig, because it cost a trifle of ready money for 'toppings,' or +meal, and nothing on earth could induce him to part with a coin that he +had once grasped. He never fattened a pig (meaning for sale), but sold the +young porkers directly they were large enough to fetch a sovereign +a-piece, and kept the money. + +The same system was carried on throughout the farm. The one he then +occupied was of small extent, and he did a very large proportion of the +work himself. He did not purchase stock at all in the modern sense; he +grew them. If he went to a sale he bought one or two despicable-looking +cattle at the lowest price, drove them home, and let them gradually gather +condition. The grass they ate grew almost as they ate it--in his own +words, 'They cut their own victuals'--_i.e._ with their teeth. He did not +miss the grass blades, but had he paid a high price then he would have +missed the money. + +Here he was in direct conflict with modern farming. The theory of the +farming of the present day is that time is money, and, according to this, +Hodson made a great mistake. He should have given a high price for his +stock, have paid for cake, &c., and fattened them up as fast as possible, +and then realised. The logic is correct, and in any business or +manufacture could not be gainsaid. But Hodson did just the reverse. He did +not mind his cattle taking a little time to get into condition, provided +they cost him no ready money. Theoretically, the grass they ate +represented money, and might have been converted to a better use. But in +practice the reverse came true. He succeeded, and other men failed. His +cattle and his sheep, which he bought cheap and out of condition, quietly +improved (time being no object), and he sold them at a profit, from which +there were no long bills to deduct for cake. + +He purchased no machinery whilst in this small place--which was chiefly +grass land--with the exception of a second-hand haymaking machine. The +money he made he put out at interest on mortgage of real property, and it +brought in about 4 per cent. It was said that in some few cases where the +security was good he lent it at a much higher rate to other farmers of +twenty times his outward show. After awhile he went into the great farm +now occupied by his son Harry, and commenced operations without borrowing +a single shilling. The reason was because he was in no hurry. He slowly +grew his money in the little farm, and then, and not till then, essayed +the greater. Even then he would not have ventured had not the +circumstances been peculiarly favourable. Like the present, it was a time +of depression generally, and in this particular case the former tenant had +lived high and farmed bad. The land was in the worst possible state, the +landlord could not let it, and Hodson was given to understand that he +could have it for next to nothing at first. + +Now it was at this crisis of his life that he showed that in his own +sphere he possessed the true attribute of genius. Most men who had +practised rigid economy for twenty years, whose hours, and days, and weeks +had been occupied with little petty details, how to save a penny here and +a fourpenny bit yonder, would have become fossilised in the process. Their +minds would have become as narrow as their ways. They would have shrunk +from any venture, and continued in the old course to the end of their +time. + +Old Hodson, mean to the last degree in his way of living, narrow to the +narrowest point where sixpence could be got, nevertheless had a mind. He +saw that his opportunity had come, and he struck. He took the great corn +farm, and left his little place. The whole country side at once pronounced +him mad, and naturally anticipated his failure. The country side did not +yet understand two things. They did not know how much money he had saved, +and they did not know the capacity of his mind. He had not only saved +money, and judiciously invested it, but he had kept it a profound secret, +because he feared if his landlord learnt that he was saving money so fast +the rent of the little farm would have been speedily raised. Here, again, +he was in direct conflict with the modern farmer. The modern man, if he +has a good harvest or makes a profit, at once buys a 'turn-out,' and grand +furniture, and in every way 'exalts his gate,' When landlords saw their +tenants living in a style but little inferior to that they themselves kept +up, it was not really very surprising that the rents a few years back +began to rise so rapidly. In a measure tenants had themselves to blame for +that upward movement. + +Old Hodson carried his money to a long distance from home to invest, so +anxious was he that neither his landlord nor any one else should know how +quickly he was getting rich. So he entered upon his new venture--the great +upland farm, with its broad cornfields, its expanse of sheep walk and +down, its meadows in the hollow, its copses (the copses alone almost as +big as his original holding), with plenty of money in his pocket, and +without being beholden to bank or lawyer for a single groat. Men thought +that the size of the place, the big manor-house, and so on, would turn his +head. Nothing of the kind; he proceeded as cautiously and prudently as +previously. He began by degrees. Instead of investing some thousand pounds +in implements and machinery at a single swoop, instead of purchasing three +hundred sheep right off with a single cheque, he commenced with one thing +at a time. In this course he was favoured by the condition of the land, +and by the conditions of the agreement. He got it, as it were, gradually +into cultivation, not all at once; he got his stock together, a score or +two at a time, as he felt they would answer. By the year the landlord was +to have the full rent: the new tenant was quite able to pay it, and did +pay it without hesitation at the very hour it was due. He bought very +little machinery, nothing but what was absolutely necessary--no expensive +steam-plough. His one great idea was still the same, _i.e._ spend no +money. + +Yet he was not bigoted or prejudiced to the customs of his +ancestors--another proof that he was a man of mind. Hodson foresaw, before +he had been long at Upcourt Farm, that corn was not going in future to be +so all in all important as it had been. As he said himself, 'We must go to +our flocks now for our rent, and not to our barn doors.' His aim, +therefore, became to farm into and through his flock, and it paid him +well. Here was a man at once economical to the verge of meanness, prudent +to the edge of timidity, yet capable of venturing when he saw his chance; +and above all, when that venture succeeded, capable of still living on +bacon and bread and cheese, and putting the money by. + +In his earlier days Hodson was as close of speech as of expenditure, and +kept his proceedings a profound secret. As he grew older and took less +active exercise--the son resident at home carrying out his +instructions--he became more garrulous and liked to talk about his system. +The chief topic of his discourse was that a farmer in his day paid but one +rent, to the landlord, whereas now, on the modern plan, he paid eight +rents, and sometimes nine. First, of course, the modern farmer paid his +landlord (1); next he paid the seedsman (2); then the manure manufacturer +(3); the implement manufacturer (4); the auctioneer (5); the railroad, for +transit (6); the banker, for short loans (7); the lawyer or whoever +advanced half his original capital (8); the schoolmaster (9). + +To begin at the end, the rent paid by the modern farmer to the +schoolmaster included the payment for the parish school; and, secondly, +and far more important, the sum paid for the education of his own +children. Hodson maintained that many farmers paid as much hard cash for +the education of their children, and for the necessary social surroundings +incident to that education, as men used to pay for the entire sustenance +of their households. Then there was the borrowed capital, and the short +loans from the banker; the interest on these two made two more rents. +Farmers paid rent to the railroad for the transit of their goods. The +auctioneer, whether he sold cattle and sheep, or whether he had a depôt +for horses, was a new man whose profits were derived from the farmers. +There were few or no auctioneers or horse depositories when he began +business; now the auctioneer was everywhere, and every country town of any +consequence had its establishment for the reception and sale of horses. +Farmers sunk enough capital in steam-ploughs and machinery to stock a +small farm on the old system, and the interest on this sunk capital +represented another rent. It was the same with the artificial manure +merchant and with the seedsman. Farmers used to grow their own seed, or, +at most, bought from the corn dealers or a neighbour if by chance they +were out. Now the seedsman was an important person, and a grand shop might +be found, often several shops, in every market town, the owners of which +shops must likewise live upon the farmer. Here were eight or nine people +to pay rent to instead of one. + +No wonder farming nowadays was not profitable. No wonder farmers could not +put their sons into farms. Let any one look round their own neighbourhood +and count up how many farmers had managed to do that. Why, they were +hardly to be found. Farmers' sons had to go into the towns to get a +livelihood now. Farming was too expensive a business on the modern +system--it was a luxury for a rich man, who could afford to pay eight or +nine landlords at once. The way he had got on was by paying one landlord +only. Old Hodson always finished his lecture by thrusting both hands into +his breeches pockets, and whispering to you confidentially that it was not +the least use for a man to go into farming now unless he had got ten +thousand pounds. + +It was through the genius of this man that his three sons were doing so +well. At the present day, Harry, the younger, took his ease in his +arm-chair after his substantial but plain dinner, with little care about +the markets or the general depression. For much of the land was on high +ground and dry, and the soil there benefited by the wet. At the same time +sheep sold well, and Harry's flocks were large and noted. So he sauntered +round with his gun, and knocked over a hare, and came comfortably home to +dinner, easy in his mind, body, and pocket. + +Harry was not a man of energy and intense concentrated purpose like his +father. He could never have built up a fortune, but, the money being +there, Harry was just the man to keep it. He was sufficiently prudent to +run no risk and to avoid speculation. He was sufficiently frugal not to +waste his substance on riotous living, and he was naturally of a placid +temperament, so that he was satisfied to silently and gradually accumulate +little by little. His knowledge of farming, imbibed from his father, +extended into every detail. If he seldom touched an implement now, he had +in his youth worked like the labourers, and literally followed the plough. +He was constantly about on the place, and his eye, by keeping the men +employed, earned far more money than his single arm could have done. Thus +he dwelt in the lonely manor-house, a living proof of the wisdom of his +father's system. + +Harry is now looking, in his slow complacent way, for a wife. Being forty +years of age, he is not in a great hurry, and is not at all inclined to +make a present of himself to the first pretty face he meets. He does not +like the girl of the period; he fears she would spend too much money. Nor, +on the other hand, does he care for the country hoyden, whose mind and +person have never risen above the cheese-tub, with red hands, awkward +gait, loud voice, and limited conversation. He has read too much, in his +quiet way, and observed too much, in his quiet way, also, for that. He +wants a girl well educated, but not above her station, unaffected and yet +comely, fond of home and home duties, and yet not homely. And it would be +well if she had a few hundreds--a very small sum would do--for her dower. +It is not that he wants the money, which can be settled on herself; but +there is a vein of the old, prudent common sense running through Harry's +character. He is in no hurry; in time he will meet with her somewhere. + + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + + +THE GIG AND THE FOUR-IN-HAND. A BICYCLE FARMER + + +Two vehicles were gradually approaching each other from opposite +directions on a long, straight stretch of country road, which, at the +first glance, appeared level. The glare of the August sunshine reflected +from the white dust, the intense heat that caused a flickering motion of +the air like that which may be seen over a flue, the monotonous low +cropped hedges, the scarcity of trees, and boundless plain of cornfields, +all tended to deceive the eye. The road was not really level, but rose and +fell in narrow, steep valleys, that crossed it at right angles--the glance +saw across these valleys without recognising their existence. It was +curious to observe how first one and then the other vehicle suddenly +disappeared, as if they had sunk into the ground, and remained hidden for +some time. During the disappearance the vehicle was occupied in cautiously +going down one steep slope and slowly ascending the other. It then seemed +to rapidly come nearer till another hollow intervened, and it was abruptly +checked. The people who were driving could observe each other from a long +distance, and might naturally think that they should pass directly, +instead of which they did not seem to get much nearer. Some miles away, +where the same road crossed the Downs, it looked from afar like a white +line drawn perpendicularly up the hill. + +The road itself was narrow, hardly wider than a lane, but on either side +was a broad strip of turf, each strip quite twice the width of the +metalled portion. On the verge of the dust the red pimpernel opened its +flowers to the bright blue cloudless sky, and the lowly convolvulus grew +thickly among the tall dusty bennets. Sweet short clover flowers stood but +a little way back; still nearer the hedges the grass was coarser, long, +and wire-like. Tall thistles stood beside the water furrows and beside the +ditch, and round the hawthorn bushes that grew at intervals on the sward +isolated from the hedge. Loose flints of great size lay here and there +among the grass, perhaps rolled aside surreptitiously by the +stone-breakers to save themselves trouble. Everything hot and dusty. The +clover dusty, the convolvulus dusty, the brambles and hawthorn, the small +scattered elms all dusty, all longing for a shower or for a cool breeze. + +The reapers were at work in the wheat, but the plain was so level that it +was not possible to see them without mounting upon a flint heap. Then +their heads were just visible as they stood upright, but when they stooped +to use the hook they disappeared. Yonder, however, a solitary man in his +shirt-sleeves perched up above the corn went round and round the field, +and beside him strange awkward arms seemed to beat down the wheat. He was +driving a reaping machine, to which the windmill-like arms belonged. +Beside the road a shepherd lingered, leaning on a gate, while his flock, +which he was driving just as fast and no faster than they cared to eat +their way along the sward, fed part on one side and part on the other. Now +and then two or three sheep crossed over with the tinkling of a bell. In +the silence and stillness and brooding heat, the larks came and dusted +themselves in the white impalpable powder of the road. Farther away the +partridges stole quietly to an anthill at the edge of some barley. By the +white road, a white milestone, chipped and defaced, stood almost hidden +among thistles and brambles. Some white railings guarded the sides of a +bridge, or rather a low arch over a dry watercourse. Heat, dust, a glaring +whiteness, and a boundless expanse of golden wheat on either hand. + +After awhile a towering four-in-hand coach rose out of the hollow where it +had been hidden, and came bowling along the level. The rapid hoofs beat +the dust, which sprang up and followed behind in a cloud, stretching far +in the rear, for in so still an atmosphere the particles were long before +they settled again. White parasols and light dust coats--everything that +could be contrived for coolness--gay feathers and fluttering fringes, +whose wearers sat in easy attitudes enjoying the breeze created by the +swift motion. Upon such a day the roof of a coach is more pleasant than +the thickest shade, because of that current of air, for the same leaves +that keep off the sun also prevent a passing zephyr from refreshing the +forehead. But the swifter the horses the sweeter the fresh wind to fan the +delicate cheek and drooping eyelid of indolent beauty. So idle were they +all that they barely spoke, and could only smile instead of laugh if one +exerted himself to utter a good jest. The gentleman who handled the +ribbons was the only one thoroughly awake. + +His eyes were downcast, indeed, because they never left his horses, but +his ears were sharply alive to the rhythmic beat of the hoofs and the +faint creak and occasional jingle of the harness. Had a single shoe failed +to send forth the proper sound as it struck the hard dry road, had there +been a creak or a jingle too many, or too few, those ears would instantly +have detected it. The downcast eyes that looked neither to the right nor +left--at the golden wheat or the broad fields of barley--were keenly +watching the ears of the team, and noting how one of the leaders lathered +and flung white froth upon the dust. From that height the bowed backs of +the reapers were visible in the corn. The reapers caught sight of the +coach, and stood up to look, and wiped their brows, and a distant hurrah +came from the boys among them. In all the pomp and glory of paint and +varnish the tall coach rolled on, gently swaying from side to side as the +springs yielded to the irregularities of the road. It came with a heavy +rumble like far-away thunder over the low arch that spanned the dry +water-course. + +Meantime the vehicle approaching from the opposite direction had also +appeared out of a hollow. It was a high, narrow gig of ancient make, drawn +by a horse too low for the shafts and too fat for work. In the gig sat two +people closely pressed together by reason of its narrow dimensions. The +lady wore a black silk dress, of good and indeed costly material, but +white with the dust that had settled upon it. Her hands were covered with +black cotton gloves, and she held a black umbrella. Her face was hidden by +a black veil; thin corkscrew curls fringed the back of her head. She was +stout, and sat heavily in the gig. The man wore a grey suit, too short in +the trousers--at least they appeared so as he sat with his knees wide +apart, and the toe of one heavy boot partly projecting at the side of the +dash-board. A much-worn straw hat was drawn over his eyes, and he held a +short whip in his red hand. He did not press his horse, but allowed the +lazy animal to go jog-trot at his own pace. The panels of the gig had lost +their original shining polish; the varnish had cracked and worn, till the +surface was rough and grey. The harness was equally bare and worn, the +reins mended more than once. The whole ramshackle concern looked as if it +would presently fall to pieces, but the horse was in much too good a +condition. + +When the four-in-hand had come within about a hundred yards, the farmer +pulled his left rein hard, and drew his gig right out of the road on to +the sward, and then stopped dead, to give the coach the full use of the +way. As it passed he took off his straw hat, and his wife stooped low as a +makeshift for bowing. An outsider might have thought that the aristocratic +coach would have gone by this extremely humble couple without so much as +noticing it. But the gentleman who was driving lifted his hat to the dowdy +lady, with a gesture of marked politeness, and a young and +elegantly-dressed lady, his sister, nodded and smiled, and waved her hand +to her. After the coach had rolled some fifty yards away, the farmer +pulled into the road, and went on through the cloud of dust it had left +behind it, with a complacent smile upon his hard and weather-worn +features. 'A' be a nice young gentleman, the Honourable be,' said he +presently. 'So be Lady Blanche,' replied his wife, lifting her veil and +looking back after the four-in-hand. 'I'm sure her smile's that sweet it +be a pleasure for to see her.' + +Half a mile farther the farmer drew out of the road again, drove close to +the hedge, stopped, and stood up to look over. A strongly-built young man, +who had been driving the reaping machine in his shirt-sleeves, alighted +from his seat and came across to the hedge. + +'Goes very well to-day,' he said, meaning that the machine answered. + +'You be got into a good upstanding piece, John,' replied the old man +sharply in his thin jerky voice, which curiously contrasted with his still +powerful frame. 'You take un in there and try un'--pointing to a piece +where the crop had been beaten down by a storm, and where the reapers were +at work. 'You had better put the rattletrap thing away, John, and go in +and help they. Never wasted money in all my life over such a thing as that +before. What be he going to do all the winter? Bide and rust, I 'spose. +Can you put un to cut off they nettles along the ditch among they stones?' + +'It would break the knives,' said the son. + +'But you could cut um with a hook, couldn't you?' asked the old man, in a +tone that was meant to convey withering contempt of a machine that could +only do one thing, and must perforce lie idle ten months of the year. + +'That's hardly a fair way of looking at it,' the son ventured. + +'John,' said his mother, severely, 'I can't think how you young men can +contradict your father. I'm sure young men never spoke so in my time; and +I'm sure your father has been prospered in his farming' (she felt her silk +dress), 'and has done very well without any machines, which cost a deal of +money--and Heaven knows there's a vast amount going out every day.' + +A gruff voice interrupted her--one of the reapers had advanced along the +hedge, with a large earthenware jar in his hand. + +'Measter,' he shouted to the farmer in the gig, 'can't you send us out +some better tackle than this yer stuff?' + +He poured some ale out of the jar on the stubble with an expression of +utter disgust. + +'It be the same as I drink myself,' said the farmer, sharply, and +immediately sat down, struck the horse, and drove off. + +His son and the labourer--who could hardly have been distinguished apart +so far as their dress went--stood gazing after him for a few minutes. They +then turned, and each went back to his work without a word. + +The farmer drove on steadily homewards at the same jog-trot pace that had +been his wont these forty years. The house stood a considerable distance +back from the road: it was a gabled building of large size, and not +without interest. It was approached by a drive that crossed a green, where +some ducks were waddling about, and entered the front garden, which was +surrounded by a low wall. Within was a lawn and an ancient yew tree. The +porch was overgrown with ivy, and the trees that rose behind the grey +tiles of the roof set the old house in a frame of foliage. A fine old +English homestead, where any man might be proud to dwell. But the farmer +did not turn up the drive. He followed the road till he came to a gate +leading into the rickyard, and, there getting out of the gig, held the +gate open while the horse walked through. He never used the drive or the +front door, but always came in and went out at the back, through the +rickyard. + +The front garden and lawn were kept in good order, but no one belonging to +the house ever frequented it. Had any stranger driven up to the front +door, he might have hammered away with the narrow knocker--there was no +bell--for half an hour before making any one hear, and then probably it +would have been by the accident of the servant going by the passage, and +not by dint of noise. The household lived in the back part of the house. +There was a parlour well furnished, sweet with flowers placed there fresh +daily, and with the odour of those in the garden, whose scent came in at +the ever open window; but no one sat in it from week's end to week's end. +The whole life of the inmates passed in two back rooms--a sitting-room and +kitchen. + +With some slight concessions to the times only, Farmer M---- led the life +his fathers led before him, and farmed his tenancy upon the same +principles. He did not, indeed, dine with the labourers, but he ate very +much the same food as they did. Some said he would eat what no labourer or +servant would touch; and, as he had stated, drank the same smallest of +small beer. His wife made a large quantity of home-made wine every year, +of which she partook in a moderate degree, and which was the liquor +usually set before visitors. They rose early, and at once went about their +work. He saw his men, and then got on his horse and rode round the farm. +He returned to luncheon, saw the men again, and again went out and took a +turn of work with them. He rode a horse because of the distance--the farm +being large--not for pleasure. Without it he could not have visited his +fields often enough to satisfy himself that the labourers were going on +with their work. He did not hunt, nor shoot--he had the right, but never +exercised it; though occasionally he was seen about the newly-sown fields +with a single-barrel gun, firing at the birds that congregated in crowds. +Neither would he allow his sons to shoot or hunt. + +One worked with the labourers, acting as working bailiff--it was he who +drove the reaping machine, which, after long argument and much persuasion +the farmer bought, only to grumble at and abuse every day afterwards. The +other was apprenticed as a lad to a builder and carpenter of the market +town, and learned the trade exactly as the rest of the men did there. He +lodged in the town in the cheapest of houses, ate hard bread and cheese +with the carpenters and masons and bricklayers, and was glad when the +pittance he received was raised a shilling a week. Once now and then he +walked over to the farm on Sundays or holidays--he was not allowed to come +too often. They did not even send him in a basket of apples from the great +orchard; all the apples were carefully gathered and sold. + +These two sons were now grown men, strong and robust, and better educated +than would have been imagined--thanks to their own industry and good +sense, and not to any schooling they received. Two finer specimens of +physical manhood it would have been difficult to find, yet their wages +were no more than those of ordinary labourers and workmen. The bailiff, +the eldest, had a pound a week, out of which he had to purchase every +necessary, and from which five shillings were deducted for lodgings. It +may be that he helped himself to various little perquisites, but his +income from every source was not equal to that of a junior clerk. The +other nominally received more, being now a skilled workman; but as he had +to pay for his lodgings and food in town, he was really hardly so well +off. Neither of these young men had the least chance of marrying till +their father should die; nothing on earth would induce him to part with +the money required to set the one in business up or the other in a +separate farm. He had worked all his time under his father, and it seemed +to him perfectly natural that his sons should work all their time under +him. + +There was one daughter, and she, too, was out at work. She was housekeeper +to an infirm old farmer; that is to say, she superintended the dairy and +the kitchen, and received hardly as much as a cook in a London +establishment. Like the sons, she was finely developed physically, and had +more of the manners of a lady than seemed possible under the +circumstances. + +Her father's principles of farming were much the same as his plan of +housekeeping and family government. It consisted of never spending any +money. He bought no machines. The reaping machine was the one exception, +and a bitter point with the old man. He entered on no extensive draining +works, nor worried his landlord to begin them. He was content with the +tumble-down sheds till it was possible to shelter cattle in them no +longer. Sometimes he was compelled to purchase a small quantity of +artificial manure, but it was with extreme reluctance. He calculated to +produce sufficient manure in the stalls, for he kept a large head of +fattening cattle, and sheep to the greatest extent possible. He would +rather let a field lie fallow, and go without the crop from it, till +nature had restored the exhausted fertility, than supply that fertility at +the cost of spending money. The one guiding motto of his life was 'Save, +not invest.' When once he got hold of a sovereign he parted with it no +more; not though all the scientific professors in the world came to him +with their analyses, and statistics, and discoveries. He put it in the +bank, just as his father would have put it into a strong box under his +bed. There it remained, and the interest that accrued, small as it was, +was added to it. + +Yet it was his pride to do his land well. He manured it well, because he +kept cattle and sheep, especially the latter, to the fullest capacity of +his acreage; and because, as said before, he could and did afford to let +land lie fallow when necessary. He was in no hurry. He was not anxious for +so much immediate percentage upon an investment in artificial manure or +steam-plough. He might have said, with a greater man, 'Time and I are +two.' It was Time, the slow passage of the years, that gave him his +profit. He was always providing for the future; he was never out of +anything, because he was never obliged to force a sale of produce in order +to get the ready cash to pay the bank its interest upon borrowed money. He +never borrowed; neither did he ever make a speech, or even so much as +attend a farmers' club, to listen to a scientific lecture. But his teams of +horses were the admiration of the country side--no such horses came into +the market town. His rent was paid punctually, and always with country +bank-notes--none of your clean, newfangled cheques, or Bank of England +crisp paper, but soiled, greasy country notes of small denomination. + +Farmer M---- never asked for a return or reduction of his rent. The +neighbours said that he was cheaply rented: that was not true in regard to +the land itself. But he certainly was cheaply rented if the condition of +the farm was looked at. In the course of so many long years of careful +farming he had got his place into such a state of cultivation that it +could stand two or three bad seasons without much deterioration. The same +bad seasons quite spoiled the land of such of his neighbours as had relied +upon a constant application of stimulants to the soil. The stimulating +substances being no longer applied, as they could not afford to buy them, +the land fell back and appeared poor. + +Farmer M---, of course, grumbled at the weather, but the crops belied his +lips. He was, in fact, wealthy--not the wealth that is seen in cities, but +rich for a countryman. He could have started both his sons in business +with solid capital. Yet he drank small beer which the reapers despised, +and drove about in a rusty old gig, with thousands to his credit at that +old country bank. When he got home that afternoon, he carefully put away +some bags of coin for the wages of the men, which he had been to fetch, +and at once started out for the rickyard, to see how things were +progressing. So the Honourable on the tall four-in-hand saluted with +marked emphasis the humble gig that pulled right out of the road to give +him the way, and the Lady Blanche waved her hand to the dowdy in the dusty +black silk with her sweetest smile. The Honourable, when he went over the +farm with his breechloader, invariably came in and drank a glass of the +small beer. The Lady Blanche, at least once in the autumn, rode up, +alighted, and drank one glass of the home-made wine with the dowdy. Her +papa, the landlord, was an invalid, but he as invariably sent a splendid +basket of hot-house grapes. But Farmer M---- was behind the age. + +Had he looked over the hedge in the evening, he might have seen a row of +reapers walking down the road at the sudden sound of a jingling bell +behind them, open their line, and wheel like a squad, part to the right +and part to the left, to let the bicycle pass. After it had gone by they +closed their rank, and trudged on toward the village. They had been at +work all day in the uplands among the corn, cutting away with their hooks +low down the yellow straw. They began in the early morning, and had first +to walk two miles or more up to the harvest field. Stooping, as they +worked, to strike low enough, the hot sun poured his fierce rays upon +their shoulders and the backs of their necks. The sinews of the right arm +had continually to drive the steel through straw and tough weeds entangled +in the wheat. There was no shadow to sit under for luncheon, save that at +the side of the shocks, where the sheaves radiated heat and interrupted +the light air, so that the shadow was warmer than the sunshine. Coarse +cold bacon and bread, cheese, and a jar of small beer, or a tin can of +weak cold tea, were all they had to supply them with fresh strength for +further labour. + +At last the evening came, the jackets so long thrown aside were resumed, +and the walk home began. After so many hours of wearisome labour it was +hardly strange that their natural senses were dulled--that they did not +look about them, nor converse gaily. By mutual, if unexpressed consent, +they intended to call at the wayside inn when they reached it, to rest on +the hard bench outside, and take a quart of stronger ale. Thus trudging +homewards after that exhausting day, they did not hear the almost silent +approach of the bicycle behind till the rider rang his bell. When he had +passed, the rider worked his feet faster, and swiftly sped away along the +dry and dusty road. He was a tall young gentleman, whose form was well set +off and shown by the tight-fitting bicycle costume. He rode well and with +perfect command--the track left in the dust was straight, there was no +wobbling or uncertainty. + +'That be a better job than ourn, you,' said one of the men, as they +watched the bicycle rapidly proceeding ahead. + +'Ay,' replied his mate, 'he be a vine varmer, he be.' + +Master Phillip, having a clear stretch of road, put on his utmost speed, +and neither heard the comments made upon him, nor would ha e cared if he +had. He was in haste, for he was late, and feared every minute to hear the +distant dinner bell. It was his vacation, and Master Phillip, having +temporarily left his studies, was visiting a gentleman who had taken a +country mansion and shooting for the season. His host had accumulated +wealth in the 'City,' and naturally considered himself an authority on +country matters. Master Phillip's 'governor' was likewise in a large way +of business, and possessed of wealth, and thought it the correct thing for +one of his sons to 'go in' for agriculture--a highly genteel occupation, +if rightly followed, with capital and intelligence. Phillip liked to ride +his bicycle in the cool of the evening, and was supposed in these +excursions to be taking a survey of the soil and the crops, and to be +comparing the style of agriculture in the district to that to which he had +been trained while pursuing his studies. He slipped past the wayside inn; +he glided by the cottages and gardens at the outskirts of the village; and +then, leaving the more thickly inhabited part on one side, went by a +rickyard. Men were busy in the yard putting up the last load of the +evening, and the farmer in his shirt-sleeves was working among and +directing the rest. The bicyclist without a glance rode on, and shortly +after reached the lodge gates. They were open, in anticipation of his +arrival. + +He rode up the long drive, across the park, under the old elms, and +alighted at the mansion before the dinner bell rang, much to his relief; +for his host had more than one daughter, and Phillip liked to arrange his +toilet to perfection before he joined their society. His twenty-five-guinea +dressing-case, elaborately fitted up--too completely indeed, for he had no +use for the razor--soon enabled him to trim and prepare for the +dining-room. His five-guinea coat, elegant studs, spotless shirt and +wristbands, valuable seal ring on one finger, patent leather boots, +keyless watch, eyeglass, gold toothpick in one pocket, were all carefully +selected, and in the best possible style. Mr. Phillip--he would have +scorned the boyish 'master'--was a gentleman, from the perfumed locks +above to the polished patent leather below. There was _ton_ in his very +air, in the 'ah, ah,' of his treble London tone of voice, the antithesis +of the broad country bass. He had a firm belief in the fitness of +things--in the unities, so to speak, of suit, action, and time. + +When his team were struggling to force the ball by kick, or other +permitted means, across the tented field, Phillip was arrayed in accurate +football costume. When he stood on the close-mown lawn within the +white-marked square of tennis and faced the net, his jacket was barred or +striped with scarlet. Then there was the bicycle dress, the morning coat, +the shooting jacket, and the dinner coat, not to mention the Ulster or +Connaught overcoat, the dust coat, and minor items innumerable. Whether +Phillip rolled in the mire at football, or bestrode a bicycle, or sat down +to snow-white tablecloth and napkin, he conscientiously dressed the part. +The very completeness of his prescribed studies--the exhaustive character +of the curriculum-naturally induced a frame of mind not to be satisfied +with anything short of absolute precision, and perhaps even apt to extend +itself into dilettanteism. + +Like geology, the science of agriculture is so vast, it embraces so wide a +range, that one really hardly knows where it begins or ends. Phillip's +knowledge was universal. He understood all about astronomy, and had +prepared an abstract of figures proving the connection of sun-spots, +rainfall, and the price of wheat. Algebra was the easiest and at the same +time the most accurate mode of conducting the intricate calculations +arising out of the complicated question of food--of flesh formers and heat +generators--that is to say, how much a sheep increased in weight by +gnawing a turnip. Nothing could be more useful than botany-those who could +not distinguish between a dicotyledon and a monocotyledon could certainly +never rightly grasp the nature of a hedgerow. _Bellis perennis_ and +_Sinapis arvensis_ were not to be confounded, and _Triticum repens_ was a +sure sign of a bad farmer. Chemistry proved that too small a quantity of +silicate made John Barleycorn weak in the knee; ammonia, animal +phosphates, nitrogen, and so on, were mere names to many ignorant folk. +The various stages and the different developments of insect life were next +to be considered. + +As to the soil and strata--the very groundwork of a farm--geology was the +true guide to the proper selection of suitable seed. Crops had been +garnered by the aid of the electric light, the plough had been driven by +the Gramme machine; electricity, then, would play a foremost part in +future farming, and should be studied with enthusiasm. Without mathematics +nothing could be done; without ornithological study, how know which bird +revelled on grain and which destroyed injurious insects? Spectrum analysis +detected the adulteration of valuable compounds; the photographer recorded +the exact action of the trotting horse; the telephone might convey orders +from one end of an estate to the other; and thus you might go through the +whole alphabet, the whole cyclopaedia of science, and apply every single +branch to agriculture. + +It is to be hoped that Phillip's conversational account of his studies has +been correctly reproduced here. The chemical terms look rather weak, but +the memory of an ordinary listener can hardly be expected to retain such a +mass of technicalities. He had piles of strongly-bound books, the reward +of successful examinations, besides diplomas and certificates of +proficiency. These subjects could be pursued under cover, but there was +besides the field work, which had a more practical sound; model farms to +be visited; steam-engines to be seen at work; lectures to be listened to +on the spot; deep-drainage operations, a new drill, or a new sheaf-binder +to be looked at. Then there were the experimental plots--something like +the little _parterres_ seen at the edge of lawns. + +One plot was sown without manure, another was sown with manure, a third +had a different kind of manure. The dozen mangolds grown in one patch were +pulled up and carefully weighed. The grains of wheat in an ear standing in +an adjacent patch were counted and recorded. As these plots were about a +yard wide, and could be kept clean, no matter what the weather; and as a +wheelbarrow load of clay, or chalk, or sand thrown down would alter the +geological formation, the results obtained from them were certainly +instructive, and would be very useful as a guide to the cultivation of a +thousand acres. There was also a large, heavy iron roller, which the +scholars could if they chose drag round and round the gravel path. + +Architecture, again, touches the agriculturist nearly. He requires +buildings for the pigs, cattle, horses, labourers, engine and machinery, +lastly, for himself. Out of doors almost any farmhouse that could be +visited might be made by a lecturer an illustrative example of what ought +to be avoided. Scarcely one could be found that was not full of +mistakes--utterly wrong, and erected regardless of design and utility. +Within doors, with ink, tracing paper, compasses, straight-edge and ruler, +really valuable ground plans, front elevations, and so on, could be laid +down. Altogether, with this circle of science to study, the future farmer +had very hard work to face. Such exhaustive mental labour induced a +certain nervousness that could only be allayed by relaxation. The bicycle +afforded a grateful change. Mounted upon the slender, swift-revolving +wheel, Mr. Phillip in the cool of the evening, after the long day of +study, sometimes proceeded to stretch his limbs. The light cigar soothed +his weary and overstrained mind. + +The bicycle by-and-by, as if drawn by the power of gravitation, approached +more and more nearly to the distant town. It threaded the streets, and +finally stopped in the archway of an inn. There, leaned against the wall, +under the eye of the respectful ostler, the bicycle reposed. The owner +strolled upstairs, and in the company of choice spirits studied the laws +of right angles, of motion, and retarding friction, upon the level surface +of the billiard table. Somewhere in a not much frequented street there +could be seen a small window in which a coloured plate of fashions was +always displayed. There were also some bonnets, trimming, and tasteful +feathers. Nothing could be more attractive than this window. The milliner +was young and pretty, and seemed to have a cousin equally young and +pretty. Poor, lonely, friendless creatures, it was not surprising they +should welcome a little flirtation. The bicycle which so swiftly carries +the young man of the present day beyond the penetrating vision of his aunt +or tutor has much to answer for. + +But, as pointed out previously, such exhaustive scientific training +naturally tends to make the mind mathematical. It cannot be satisfied +unless its surroundings--the substantial realisation of the concrete-are +perfect. So Mr. Phillip had a suit for every purpose--for football, +cricket, tennis, bicycle, shooting, dining, and strolling about. In the +same way he possessed a perfect armoury of athletic and other useful +implements. There were fine bats by the best makers for cricket, rods for +trout fishing, splendid modified choke-bores, saddles, jockey caps, and so +on. A gentleman like this could hardly long remain in the solitary halls +of learning--society must claim him for parties, balls, dinners, and the +usual round. It was understood that his 'governor' was a man of +substantial wealth; that Phillip would certainly be placed in an extensive +farm, to play the pleasant part of a gentleman farmer. People with +marriageable daughters looked upon the clever scholar as a desirable +addition to their drawing-rooms. Phillip, in short, found himself by +degrees involved in a whirl of festivities, and was never at a loss where +to go for amusement when he could obtain leave to seek relaxation. If such +social adulation made him a little vain, if it led to the purchase of a +twenty-five-guinea dressing-case, and to frequent consultations with the +tailor, it really was not Phillip's fault. He felt himself popular, and +accepted the position. + +When the vacation came, gathering up a fresh pile of grandly-bound prize +books, broad sheets of diplomas, and certificates, Phillip departed to his +friend's mansion for the partridge shooting. Coming down the road on the +bicycle he overtook the reapers, and sprang his bell to warn them. The +reapers thought Phillip's job better than theirs. + +At dinner, while sipping his claret, Phillip delivered his opinion upon +the agriculture of the district, which he had surveyed from his bicycle. +It was incomplete, stationary, or retrograde. The form of the fields alone +was an index to the character of the farmers who cultivated them. Not one +had a regular shape. The fields were neither circles, squares, +parallelograms, nor triangles. One side, perhaps, might be straight; the +hedgerow on the other had a dozen curves, and came up to a point. With +such irregular enclosures it was impossible that the farmer could plan out +his course with the necessary accuracy. The same incompleteness ran +through everything--one field was well tilled, the next indifferently, the +third full of weeds. Here was a good modern cattle-shed, well-designed for +the purpose; yonder was a tumble-down building, with holes in the roof and +walls. + +So, too, with the implements--a farmer never seemed to have a complete +set. One farmer had, perhaps, a reaping machine, but he had not got an +elevator; another had an elevator, but no steam-plough. No one had a full +set of machinery. If they drained, they only drained one field; the entire +farm was never by any possibility finished straight off. If the farmer had +two new light carts of approved construction, he was sure to have three +old rumbling waggons, in drawing which there was a great waste of power. +Why not have all light carts? There was no uniformity. The farming mind +lacked breadth of view, and dwelt too much on detail. It was not, of +course, the fault of the tenants of the present day, but the very houses +they inhabited were always put in the wrong place. Where the ground was +low, flat, and liable to be flooded, the farmhouse was always built by a +brook. When the storms of winter came the brook overflowed, and the place +was almost inaccessible. In hilly districts, where there was not much +water, the farmhouse was situate on the slope, or perhaps on the plateau +above, and in summer very likely every drop of water used had to be drawn +up there from a distance in tanks. + +The whole of rural England, in short, wanted rearranging upon mathematical +principles. To begin at the smallest divisions, the fields should be +mapped out like the squares of a chessboard; next, the parishes; and, +lastly, the counties. You ought to be able to work steam-ploughing tackle +across a whole parish, if the rope could be made strong enough. If you +talked with a farmer, you found him somehow or other quite incapable of +following a logical sequence of argument. He got on very well for a few +sentences, but, just as one was going to come to the conclusion, his mind +seized on some little paltry detail, and refused to move any farther. He +positively could not follow you to a logical conclusion. If you, for +instance, tried to show him that a certain course of cropping was the +correct one for certain fields, he would listen for awhile, and then +suddenly declare that the turnips in one of the said fields last year were +a failure. That particular crop of turnips had nothing at all to do with +the system at large, but the farmer could see nothing else. + +What had struck him most, however, in that particular district, as he +traversed it on the bicycle, was the great loss of time that must result +from the absence of rapid means of communication on large farms. The +distance across a large farm might, perhaps, be a mile. Some farms were +not very broad, but extended in a narrow strip for a great way. Hours were +occupied in riding round such farms, hours which might be saved by simple +means. Suppose, for example, that a gang of labourers were at work in the +harvest-field, three-quarters of a mile from the farmhouse. Now, why not +have a field telegraph, like that employed in military operations? The +cable or wire was rolled on a drum like those used for watering a lawn. +All that was needed was to harness a pony, and the drum would unroll and +lay the wire as it revolved. The farmer could then sit in his office and +telegraph his instructions without a moment's delay. He could tap the +barometer, and wire to the bailiff in the field to be expeditious, for the +mercury was falling. Practically, there was no more necessity for the +farmer to go outside his office than for a merchant in Mincing Lane. The +merchant did not sail in every ship whose cargo was consigned to him: why +should the farmer watch every waggon loaded? Steam could drive the +farmer's plough, cut the chaff, pump the water, and, in short, do +everything. The field telegraph could be laid down to any required spot +with the greatest ease, and thus, sitting in his office chair, the farmer +could control the operations of the farm without once soiling his hands. +Mr. Phillip, as he concluded his remarks, reached his glass of claret, and +thus incidentally exhibited his own hand, which was as white as a lady's. + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + + +HAYMAKING. 'THE JUKE'S COUNTRY' + + +A rattling, thumping, booming noise, like the beating of their war drums +by savages, comes over the hedge where the bees are busy at the bramble +flowers. The bees take no heed, they pass from flower to flower, seeking +the sweet honey to store at home in the hive, as their bee ancestors did +before the Roman legions marched to Cowey Stakes. Their habits have not +changed; their 'social' relations are the same; they have not called in +the aid of machinery to enlarge their liquid, wealth, or to increase the +facility of collecting it. There is a low murmur rather than a buzz along +the hedgerow; but over it the hot summer breeze brings the thumping, +rattling, booming sound of hollow metal striking against the ground or in +contact with other metal. These ringing noises, which so little accord +with the sweet-scented hay and green hedgerows, are caused by the careless +handling of milk tins dragged hither and thither by the men who are +getting the afternoon milk ready for transit to the railway station miles +away. Each tin bears a brazen badge engraved with the name of the milkman +who will retail its contents in distant London. It may be delivered to the +countess in Belgravia, and reach her dainty lip in the morning chocolate, +or it may be eagerly swallowed up by the half-starved children of some +back court in the purlieus of the Seven Dials. + +Sturdy milkmaids may still be seen in London, sweeping the crowded +pavement clear before them as they walk with swinging tread, a yoke on +their shoulders, from door to door. Some remnant of the traditional dairy +thus survives in the stony streets that are separated so widely from the +country. But here, beside the hay, the hedgerows, the bees, the flowers +that precede the blackberries--here in the heart of the meadows the +romance has departed. Everything is mechanical or scientific. From the +refrigerator that cools the milk, the thermometer that tests its +temperature, the lactometer that proves its quality, all is mechanical +precision. The tins themselves are metal--wood, the old country material +for almost every purpose, is eschewed--and they are swung up into a waggon +specially built for the purpose. It is the very antithesis of the jolting +and cumbrous waggon used for generations in the hay-fields and among the +corn. It is light, elegantly proportioned, painted, varnished--the work +rather of a coachbuilder than a cartwright. The horse harnessed in it is +equally unlike the cart-horse. A quick, wiry horse, that may be driven in +a trap or gig, is the style--one that will rattle along and catch the +train. + +The driver takes his seat and handles the reins with the air of a man +driving a tradesman's van, instead of walking, like the true old carter, +or sitting on the shaft. The vehicle rattles off to the station, where +ten, fifteen, or perhaps twenty such converge at the same hour, and then +ensues a scene of bustle, chaff, and rough language. The tins are placed +in the van specially reserved for them, the whistle sounds, the +passengers--who have been wondering why on earth there was all this noise +and delay at a little roadside station without so much as a visible +steeple--withdraw their heads from the windows; the wheels revolve, and, +gathering speed, the train disappears round the curve, hastening to the +metropolis. Then the empty tins returned from town have to be conveyed +home with more rattling, thumping and booming of hollow tin--there to be +carefully cleansed, for which purpose vast quantities of hot water must be +ready, and coal, of course, must be consumed in proportion. + +This beautiful afternoon the booming seems to sound more than usual; it +may perhaps be the wind that carries the noise along. But Mr. George, the +farmer, who has been working among the haymakers, steps out from the rank, +and going some way aside pauses awhile to consider. You should not address +him as Farmer George. Farmer as an affix is not the thing now; farmers are +'Mr. So-and-so.' Not that there is any false pride about the present +individual; his memory goes back too far, and he has had too much +experience of the world. He leans on his prong--the sharp forks worn +bright as silver from use--stuck in the sward, and his chest pressing on +the top of the handle, or rather on both hands, with which he holds it. +The handle makes an angle of forty-five degrees with his body, and thus +gives considerable support and relief while he reflects. + +He leans on his prong, facing to windward, and gazing straight into the +teeth of the light breeze, as he has done these forty and odd summers +past. Like the captain of a sailing ship, the eye of the master haymaker +must be always watching the horizon to windward. He depends on the sky, +like the mariner, and spreads his canvas and shapes his course by the +clouds. He must note their varying form and drift; the height and +thickness and hue; whether there is a dew in the evenings; whether the +distant hills are clearly defined or misty; and what the sunset portends. +From the signs of the sunset he learns, like the antique Roman +husbandman-- + + 'When the south projects a stormy day, + And when the clearing north will puff the clouds away.' + +According as the interpretation of the signs be favourable, adverse, or +doubtful, so he gives his orders. + +This afternoon, as he stands leaning on the prong, he marks the soft air +which seems itself to be heated, and renders the shade, if you seek it for +coolness, as sultry as the open field. The flies are numerous and +busy--the horses can barely stand still, and nod their heads to shake them +off. The hills seem near, and the trees on the summit are distinctly +visible. Such noises as are heard seem exaggerated and hollow. There is +but little cloud, mere thin flecks; but the horizon has a brassy look, and +the blue of the sky is hard and opaque. Farmer George recollects that the +barometer he tapped before coming out showed a falling mercury; he does +not like these appearances, more especially the heated breeze. There is a +large quantity of hay in the meadow, much of it quite ready for carting, +indeed, the waggons are picking it up as fast as they can, and the rest, +if left spread about through next day--Sunday--would be fit on Monday. + +On Sunday there are no wages to pay to the labourers; but the sun, if it +shines, works as hard and effectually as ever. It is always a temptation +to the haymaker to leave his half-made hay spread about for Sunday, so +that on Monday morning he may find it made. Another reason why he +hesitates is because he knows he will have trouble with the labourers, who +will want to be off early as it is Saturday. They are not so ready to work +an hour or two overtime as when he was a boy. On the other hand, he +recollects that the weather cablegrams from America foretell the arrival +of a depression. What would his grandfather have thought of adjusting the +work in an English meadow to the tenour of news from the other side of the +Atlantic? + +Suddenly, while he ponders, there arises a shout from the labourers. The +hay in one spot, as if seized by an invisible force, lifts itself up and +revolves round and round, rising higher every turn. A miniature cyclone is +whirling it up--a column of hay twisting in a circle and rising above the +trees. Then the force of the whirlwind spends itself; some of the hay +falls on the oaks, and some drifts with the breeze across the field before +it sinks. + +This decides him at once. He resolves to have all the hay carted that he +can, and the remainder put up into haycocks. The men grumble when they +hear it; perhaps a year ago they would have openly mutinied, and refused +to work beyond the usual hour. But, though wages are still high, the +labourers feel that they are not so much the masters as they were--they +grumble, but obey. The haycocks are put up, and the rick-cloth unfolded +over the partly made rick. Farmer George himself sees to it that the cloth +does not touch the rick at the edges, or the rain, if it comes, will go +through instead of shooting off, and that the ropes are taut and firmly +belayed. His caution is justified in the night by a violent thunderstorm, +and in the morning it is raining steadily. + +It rains again on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Thursday it does not +rain, but the hedges are wet, the ground is soaked, the grass hung with +raindrops, the sky heavy with masses of drifting cloud. The hay cannot be +touched; it must lie a day till sufficiently dry. Friday is more hopeful. +He walks out into the fields, and kicks a haycock half over. The hay is +still wet, but he congratulates himself that not much damage is done. +Saturday Is warm and fine--work goes on again. But Sunday is near. Sunday +is fiery hot. Monday, the rain pours down with tropical vehemence. + +Thus the monotonous, heart-breaking days go by and lengthen into weeks, +and the weeks extend into months. The wheat is turning colour, and still +the hay lies about, and the farmer has ceased even to tap the barometer. +Those fields that are not cut are brown as brown can be--the grass has +seeded and is over ripe. The labourers come every day, and some trifling +job is found for them--the garden path is weeded, the nettles cut, and +such little matters done. Their wages are paid every week in silver and +gold--harvest wages, for which no stroke of harvest work has been done. He +must keep them on, because any day the weather may brighten, and then they +will be wanted. But the weather does not brighten, and the drain of ready +cash continues. Besides the men, the mowing machine is idle in the shed. +Even if the rain ceases, the crops are so laid that it is doubtful if it +can be employed. The horse-rake is idle, the elevator is idle, the +haymaking machine is idle, and these represent capital, if not to a large +amount. He notes the price of hay at the market. For months past it has +been low--so low that it has hardly paid him to sell that portion of old +hay which he felt he could spare. From October of last year to June of +this [1879] the price remained about the same. It is now rising, but he +has no more old hay to part with, and the new is not yet made. He has to +bear in mind that his herd of cows has to be kept in high feed all the +winter, to supply an unvarying quantity of milk to the London purchaser. + +These wet days, forcing him unwillingly to stay within doors, send him to +his books and accounts, and they tell a story somewhat at variance with +the prevalent belief that dairy-farming is the only branch of farming that +is still profitable. First, as to the milk-selling. Cows naturally yield a +larger supply in the summer than in winter, but by the provisions of the +contract between the farmer and the milkman the quantity sent in summer is +not to exceed, and the quantity in winter not to fall short of, a +stipulated amount.[Footnote: An improvement upon this system has been +introduced by the leading metropolitan dairy company. The farmer is asked +to fix a minimum quantity which he will engage to supply daily, but he can +send as much more as he likes. This permits of economical and natural +management in a dairy, which was very difficult under the rigid rule +mentioned above.] The price received in summer is about fivepence or +fivepence-halfpenny per imperial gallon, afterwards retailed in London at +about one shilling and eightpence. When the cost of conveyance to the +station, of the horses, of the wear and tear, of the men who have to be +paid for doing nothing else but look after the milk, is deducted, the +profit to the farmer is but small. He thinks, too, that he notices a +decided falling-off in the demand for milk even at this price. + +Some dairies find a difficulty in disposing of the milk--they cannot find +a purchaser. He has himself a considerable surplus over and above what the +contract allows him to send. This must either be wasted entirely or made +into butter and cheese. In order to make cheese, the plant, the tubs, +vats, presses, and so on, must be kept in readiness, and there must be an +experienced person to superintend the work. This person must be paid a +salary, and lodge and board in the house, representing therefore a +considerable outlay. The cheese, when made and sent to market, fluctuates +of course in price: it may be as low as fourpence a pound wholesale; it +may go as high as sixpence. Fourpence a pound wholesale will not pay for +the making; sixpence will leave a profit; but of late the price has gone +rather to the lower than the higher figure. A few years since, when the +iron industries flourished, this kind of cheese had a good and ready sale, +and there was a profit belonging to it; but since the iron trade has been +in so depressed a condition this cheese has sold badly. The surplus milk +consequently brings no profit, and is only made into cheese because it +shall not be wasted, and in the hope that possibly a favourable turn of +the cheese market may happen. Neither the summer cheese nor the summer +milk is bringing him in a fortune. + +Meantime the hay is spoiling in the fields. But a few years ago, when +agricultural prices were inflated, and men's minds were full of +confidence, he recollects seeing standing grass crops sold by auction for +5_l_. the acre, and in some cases even higher prices were realised. This +year similar auctions of standing grass crops hardly realised 30_s_. an +acre, and in some instances a purchaser could not be found even at that +price. The difference in the value of grass represented by these prices is +very great. + +He has no pigs to sell, because, for a long while past, he has had nothing +upon which to feed them, the milk being sold. The pigsties are full of +weeds; he can hardly fatten one for his own use, and has scarcely better +facilities for keeping pigs than an agricultural labourer. The carriage of +the milk to the station requires at least two quick horses, and perhaps +more; one cannot do it twice a day, even with a very moderate load. The +hard highway and the incessant work would soon knock a single horse up. +The mowing machine and the horse-rake must be drawn by a similar horse, so +that the dairy farm may be said to require a style of horse like that +employed by omnibus proprietors. The acreage being limited, he can only +keep a certain number of horses, and, therefore, has no room for a brood +mare. + +Farmer George is aware that nothing now pays like a brood cart mare with +fair good luck. The colt born in April is often sold six months +afterwards, in September, for 20_l_. or 25_l_., and even up to 30_l_., +according to excellence. The value of cart-horse colts has risen greatly, +and those who are fortunately able to maintain a brood mare have reaped +the profit. But Mr. George, selling the milk, and keeping a whole stud of +nags for the milk cart, the mowing machine, the horse-rake, and so forth, +cannot maintain a brood mare as well. In the winter, it is true, the milk +may sell for as high a price as tenpence per gallon of four quarts, but +then he has a difficulty in procuring the quantity contracted for, and may +perhaps have to buy of neighbours to keep up the precise supply. + +His herd must also be managed for the purpose, and must be well fed, and +he will probably have to buy food for them in addition to his hay. The nag +horses, too, that draw the milk waggon, have to be fed during the winter, +and are no slight expense. As for fattening a beast in a stall, with a +view to take the prize at Christmas at the local show, he has abandoned +that, finding that it costs more to bring the animal up to the condition +required than he can afterwards sell it for. There is no profit in that. +America presses upon him hard, too--as hard, or harder, than on the +wheat-grower. Cases have been known of American cheese being sold in +manufacturing towns as low as twopence per pound retail--given away by +despairing competition. + +How, then, is the dairyman to succeed when he cannot, positively cannot, +make cheese to sell at less than fourpence per pound wholesale? Of course +such instances are exceptional, but American cheese is usually sold a +penny or more a pound below the English ordinary, and this cuts the ground +from under the dairyman's feet; and the American cheese too is acquiring a +reputation for richness, and, price for price, surpasses the English in +quality. Some people who have long cherished a prejudice against the +American have found, upon at last being induced to try the two, that the +Canadian cheddar is actually superior to the English cheddar, the English +selling at tenpence per pound and the Canadian at sevenpence. + +Mr. George finds he pays a very high rent for his grass land--some 50_s_. +per acre--and upon reckoning up the figures in his account-books heaves a +sigh. His neighbours perchance may be making fortunes, though they tell +quite a different tale, but he feels that he is not growing rich. The work +is hard, or rather it is continuous. No one has to attend to his duties so +regularly all the year round as the man who looks after cows. They cannot +be left a single day from the 1st of January to the 31st of December. Nor +is the social state of things altogether pleasant to reflect on. His sons +and daughters have all left home; not one would stay and take to the dairy +work. They have gone into the towns, and found more congenial employment +there. He is himself growing in years. His wife, having once left off +making cheese when the milk selling commenced, and having tasted the +sweets of rest, is unwilling to return to that hard labour. When it is +done he must pay some one to do it. + +In every way ready money is going out of the house. Cash to pay the +haymakers idling about in the sheds out of the rain; cash to pay the men +who manage the milk; cash to pay the woman who makes the cheese out of the +surplus milk; cash to pay the blacksmith for continually re-shoeing the +milk cart nags and for mending machines; cash to pay the brewer and the +butcher and the baker, neither of whom took a sovereign here when he was a +lad, for his father ate his own bacon, brewed his own beer, and baked his +own bread; cash to pay for the education of the cottagers' children; cash, +a great deal of cash, to pay the landlord. + +Mr. George, having had enough of his accounts, rises and goes to the +window. A rain cloud sweeping along the distant hills has hidden them from +sight, and the rack hurries overhead driven before the stormy wind. There +comes a knock at the door. It is the collector calling the second time for +the poor rates, which have grown heavier of late. + +But, however delayed, the haymaking is finished at last, and by-and-by, +when the leaves have fallen and the hunting commences, a good run drives +away for the time at least the memory of so unpropitious a season. Then +Mr. George some mild morning forms one of a little group of well-mounted +farmers waiting at a quiet corner while the hounds draw a great wood. Two +of them are men long past middle age, whose once tawny beards are +grizzled, but who are still game, perhaps more so than the rising +generation. The rest have followed them here, aware that these old hands +know every inch of the country, and are certain to be in the right place. +The spot is not far from the park wall, where the wood runs up into a +wedge-shaped point, and ends in a low mound and hedge. Most of the company +at the meet in the park have naturally cantered across the level sward, +scattering the sheep as they go, and are now assembled along the side of +the wood, near where a green 'drive' goes through it, and apparently gives +direct access to the fields beyond. From thence they can see the huntsman +in the wood occasionally, and trace the exact course the hounds are taking +in their search. + +A gallant show it is by the wood! Horsemen and horsewomen, late comers +hastening up, restless horses, a throng for ever in motion, and every now +and then the blast of a horn rising up from the trees beneath. A gallant +show indeed, but two old cunning ones and their followers have slipped +away down to this obscure corner where they can see nothing of it, and are +themselves hidden. They know that the wood is triangular in shape, and +that from this, the apex, they have merely to pass the low hedge in front, +and, turning to the left, ride along the lower side, and so bisect the +course the fox will probably take. They know that the 'drive,' which +offers so straight and easy a descent through the wood from the park, is +pleasant enough till the lower ground is reached. There the soft, oozy +earth, which can never dry under the trees, is poached into a slough +through which even timber carriages cannot be drawn. Nor can a horseman +slip aside, because of the ash poles and thorn thickets. Those who are +trapped there must return to the park and gallop all round the wood +outside, unless they like to venture a roll in that liquid mud. Any one +can go to a meet, but to know all the peculiarities of the covers is only +given to those who have ridden over the country these forty years. In this +corner a detached copse of spruce fir keeps off the wind--the direction of +which they have noted--and in this shelter it is almost warm. + +The distant crack of a whip, the solitary cry of a hound, a hollow shout, +and similar sounds, come frequently, and now and then there is an +irrepressible stir in the little group as they hear one of the many false +alarms that always occur in drawing a great wood. To these noises they are +keenly sensitive, but utterly ignore the signs of other life around them. +A pheasant, alarmed by the hounds, comes running quietly, thinking to +escape into the line of isolated copses that commences here; but, suddenly +confronted by the horsemen just outside, rises with an uproar, and goes +sailing down over the fields. Two squirrels, happy in the mild weather, +frisk out of the copse into the dank grass, till a curvet of one of the +horses frightens them up into the firs again. + +Horses and men are becoming impatient. 'That dalled keeper has left an +earth open,' remarks one of the riders. His companion points with his whip +at the hedge just where it joins the wood. A long slender muzzle is thrust +for a moment cautiously over the bare sandy mound under cover of a thorn +stole. One sniff, and it is withdrawn. The fox thought also to steal away +along the copses, the worst and most baffling course he could choose. Five +minutes afterwards, and there is this time no mistake. There comes from +the park above the low, dull, rushing roar of hundreds of hoofs, that +strike the sward together, and force by sheer weight the reluctant earth +to resound. The two old hands lead over the hedge, and the little company, +slipping along below the wood, find themselves well on the track, far in +front of the main body. There is a block in the treacherous 'drive,' those +who where foremost struggling to get back, and those behind struggling to +come down. The rest at last, learning the truth, are galloping round the +outside, and taking it out of their horses before they get on the course +at all. + +It is a splendid burst, and the pace is terrible. The farmers' powerful +horses find it heavy going across the fresh ploughed furrows and the wet +'squishey' meadows, where the double mounds cannot be shirked. Now a lull, +and the two old hands, a little at fault, make for the rising ground, +where are some ricks, and a threshing machine at work, thinking from +thence to see over the tall hedgerows. Upon the rick the labourers have +stopped work, and are eagerly watching the chase, for from that height +they can see the whole field. Yonder the main body have found a succession +of fields with the gates all open: some carting is in progress, and the +gates have been left open for the carter's convenience. A hundred horsemen +and eight or ten ladies are galloping in an extended line along this +route, riding hardest, as often happens, when the hounds are quiet, that +they may be ready when the chiding commences. + +Suddenly the labourers exclaim and point, the hounds open, and the +farmers, knowing from the direction they point where to ride, are off. But +this time the fox has doubled, so that the squadrons hitherto behind are +now closest up, and the farmers in the rear: thus the fortune of war +changes, and the race is not to the swift. The labourers on the rick, +which stands on the side of a hill, are fully as excited as the riders, +and they can see what the hunter himself rarely views, _i.e._ the fox +slipping ahead before the hounds. Then they turn to alternately laugh at, +and shout directions to a disconsolate gentleman, who, ignorant of the +district, is pounded in a small meadow. He is riding frantically round and +round, afraid to risk the broad brook which encircles it, because of the +treacherous bank, and maddened by the receding sound of the chase. A boy +gets off the rick and runs to earn sixpence by showing a way out. So from +the rick Hodge has his share of the sport, and at that elevation can see +over a wide stretch of what he--changing the 'd' into a 'j'--calls 'the +juke's country.' + +It is a famous land. There are spaces, which on the map look large, and +yet have no distinctive character, no individuality as it were. Such broad +expanses of plain and vale are usefully employed in the production of +cattle and corn. Villages, hamlets, even towns are dotted about them, but +a list of such places would not contain a single name that would catch the +eye. Though occupying so many square miles, the district, so far as the +world is concerned, is non-existent. It is socially a blank. But 'the +juke's country' is a well-known land. There are names connected with it +which are familiar not only in England, but all the world over, where +men--and where do they not?--converse of sport. Something beyond mere +utility, beyond ploughing and sowing, has given it within its bounds a +species of separate nationality. The personal influence of an acknowledged +leader has organised society and impressed it with a quiet enthusiasm. +Even the bitterest Radical forgives the patrician who shoots or rides +exceptionally well, and hunting is a pursuit which brings the peer and the +commoner side by side. + +The agricultural population speak as one man upon the subject. The old +farmer will tell you with pride how his advice was sought when disease +entered the kennels, and how his remedy saved the lives of valuable +hounds. The farmer's son, a mere lad, whose head barely rises to his +saddle, talks of 'the duke' as his hero. This boy knows the country, and +can ride straight, better than many a gentleman with groom and second +horse behind. Already, like his elders, he looks forward impatiently to +the fall of the leaf. The tenants' wives and daughters allude with +pleasure to the annual social gatherings at the mansion, and it is +apparent that something like a real bond exists between landlord and +tenant. No false pride separates the one from the other--intercourse is +easy, for a man of high and ancient lineage can speak freely to the +humblest labourer without endangering his precedence. It needs none of the +parvenu's _hauteur_ and pomp to support his dignity. Every tenant is +treated alike. + +On small estates there is sometimes a complaint that the largest tenant is +petted while the lesser are harshly treated. Nothing of that is known +here. The tenants are as well content as it is possible for men to be who +are passing under the universal depression. _Noblesse oblige_--it would be +impossible for that ancient house to stoop to meanness. The head rides to +the hunt, as his ancestors rode to battle, with a hundred horsemen behind +him. His colours are like the cockades of olden times. Once now and then +even Royalty honours the meet with its presence. Round that ancient house +the goodwill of the county gathers; and when any family event--as a +marriage--takes place, the hearty congratulations offered come from far +beyond the actual property. His pastime is not without its use--all are +agreed that hunting really does improve the breed of horses. Certainly it +gives a life, a go, a social movement to the country which nothing else +imparts. + +It is a pleasant land withal--a land of hill and vale, of wood and copse. +How well remembered are the copses on the hills, and the steeples, those +time-honoured landmarks to wandering riders! The small meadows with double +mounds have held captive many a stranger. The river that winds through +them enters by-and-by a small but ancient town, with its memories of the +fierce Danes, and its present talk of the hunt. About five o'clock on +winter afternoons there is a clank of spurs in the courtyard of the old +inn, and the bar is crowded with men in breeches and top-boots. As they +refresh themselves there is a ceaseless hum of conversation, how so-and-so +came a cropper, how another went at the brook in style, or how some poor +horse got staked and was mercifully shot. A talk, in short, like that in +camp after a battle, of wounds and glory. Most of these men are tenant +farmers, and reference is sure to be made to the price of cheese, and the +forthcoming local agricultural show. + +This old market town has been noted for generations as a great cheese +centre. It is not, perhaps, the most convenient situation for such a +market, and its population is inconsiderable; but the trade is, somehow or +other, a tradition of the place, and traditions are hard to shake. Efforts +have been made to establish rival markets in towns nearer to the modern +resorts of commerce, but in vain. The attempt has always proved a failure, +and to this day the prices quoted at this place rule those of the +adjoining counties, and are watched in distant cities. The depression made +itself felt here in a very practical manner, for prices fell to such an +extent that the manufacture of the old style of cheese became almost a +dead loss. Some farmers abandoned it, and at much trouble and expense +changed their system, and began to produce Cheddar and Stilton. But when +the Stilton was at last ready, there was no demand for it. Almost +suddenly, however, and quite recently, a demand sprang up, and the price +of that cheese rose. They say here in the bar that this probably saved +many from difficulties; large stocks that had been lying on hand +unsaleable for months going off at a good price. They hope that it is an +omen of returning prosperity, and do not fail to observe the remarkable +illustration it affords of the close connection between trade and +agriculture. For no sooner did the iron trade revive than the price of +cheese responded. The elder men cannot refrain from chuckling over the +altered tone of the inhabitants of cities towards the farmers. 'Years +ago,' they say, 'we were held up to scorn, and told that we were quite +useless; there was nothing so contemptible as the British farmer. Now they +have discovered that, after all, we are some good, and even Manchester +sympathises with us.' + +It is now hoped that the forthcoming local show--largely patronised and +promoted by the chief of the hunting field--will be better than was at one +time anticipated. Those who would like to see the real working of an +agricultural show such as this should contrive to visit the yard early in +the morning of the opening day, some few hours before the public are +admitted. The bustle, the crash of excited exhibitors, the cries of men in +charge of cattle, the apparently inextricable confusion, as if everything +had been put off to the last moment--the whole scene is intensely +agricultural. Every one is calling for the secretary. A drover wants to +know where to put his fat cattle; a carter wants to ask where a great +cart-horse is to stand--he and his horse together are hopelessly +floundering about in the crowd. The agent of a firm of implement +manufacturers has a telegram that another machine is coming, and is +anxious for extra space; the representative of an artificial manure +factory is vainly seeking a parcel that has got mislaid. The seedsman +requires permission to somewhat shift his stall; wherever is the +secretary? + +When he appears, a clergyman at once pounces on him to apply for tickets +for the dinner, and is followed by a farmer, who must have a form and an +explanation how to fill it up. One of his labourers has decided at the +last minute to enter for a prize--he has had a year to make up his mind +in. A crowd of members of the Society are pushing round for a private +view, and watching the judges at their work. They all turn to the +secretary to ask where such and such an exhibit may be found, and demand +why on earth the catalogues are not ready? Mr. Secretary, a stout tenant +farmer, in breeches and top-boots, whose broad face beams with good nature +(selected, perhaps, for that very quality), pants and wipes his forehead, +for, despite the cold, the exertion and the universal flurry have made him +quiet hot. He gives every inquirer a civil answer, and affably begs the +eager folk that press upon him to come up into the committee-room. + +At this a satisfied smile replaces the troubled expression upon their +faces. They feel that their difficulties are at an end; they have got hold +of the right man at last--there is something soothing in the very sound of +the committee-room. When they get up into this important apartment they +find it quite empty. There is a blazing fire in the grate, and littered on +the long table is a mass of forms, letters, lists, and proofs of the +catalogue waiting for the judges' decision to be entered. After half an +hour or so their hopes begin to fall, and possibly some one goes down to +try and haul the secretary up into his office. The messenger finds that +much-desired man in the midst of an excited group; one has him by the arm +pulling him forward, another by the coat dragging him back, a third is +bawling at him at the top of a powerful voice. + +By-and-by, however, the secretary comes panting up into the committee-room +with a letter in his hand and a pleased expression on his features. He +announces that he has just had a note from his Grace, who, with his party, +will be here early, and who hopes that all is going on well. Then to +business, and it is surprising how quickly he disposes of it. A farmer +himself, he knows exactly what is wanted, and gives the right order +without a moment's hesitation. It is no new experience to him, and despite +all this apparent confusion, everything presently falls into its place. + +After the opening of the show there is a meeting, at which certain prizes +are distributed, among them rewards to the best ploughman in 'the juke's +country,' and to those labourers who have remained longest in the service +of one master. For the graceful duty of presentation a marchioness has +been selected, who, with other visitors of high social rank, has come over +from that famous hunting mansion. To meet that brilliant party the whole +agricultural interest has assembled. The room is crowded with tenant +farmers, the entire hunting field is present. Every clergyman in the +district is here, together with the gentry, and many visitors for the +hunting season. Among them, shoulder to shoulder, are numbers of +agricultural labourers, their wives, and daughters, dressed in their best +for the occasion. After some speeches, a name is called, and an aged +labourer steps forward. + +His grandchildren are behind him; two of his sons, quite elderly +themselves, attend him almost to the front, so that he may have to make +but a few steps unsupported. The old man is frosted with age, and moves +stiffly, like a piece of mechanism rather than a living creature, nor is +there any expression--neither smile nor interest--upon his absolutely +immobile features. He wears breeches and gaiters, and a blue coat cut in +the style of two generations since. There is a small clear space in the +midst of the well-dressed throng. There he stands, and for the moment the +hum is hushed. + +For sixty years that old man laboured upon one farm; sixty years of +ploughing and sowing, sixty harvests. What excitement, what discoveries +and inventions--with what giant strides the world has progressed while he +quietly followed the plough! An acknowledgment has been publicly awarded +to him for that long and faithful service. He puts forth his arm; his dry, +horny fingers are crooked, and he can neither straighten nor bend them. +Not the least sign appears upon his countenance that he is even conscious +of what is passing. There is a quick flash of jewelled rings ungloved to +the light, and the reward is placed in that claw-like grasp by the white +hand of the marchioness. + +Not all the gallant cavalry of the land fearlessly charging hedge and +brook can, however, repel the invasion of a foe mightier than their chief. +Frost sometimes comes and checks their gaiety. Snow falls, and levels +every furrow, and then Hodge going to his work in the morning can clearly +trace the track of one of his most powerful masters, Squire Reynard, who +has been abroad in the night, and, likely enough, throttled the +traditional grey goose. The farmer watches for the frozen thatch to drip; +the gentleman visiting the stable looks up disconsolately at the icicles +dependent from the slated eave with the same hope. The sight of a stray +seagull wandering inland is gladly welcomed, as the harbinger of drenching +clouds sweeping up on soft south-westerly gales from the nearest coast. + + +The hunt is up once more, and so short are the hours of the day in the +dead of the year, that early night often closes round the chase. From out +of the gloom and the mist comes the distant note of the horn, with a weird +and old-world sound. By-and-by the labourer, trudging homeward, is +overtaken by a hunter whose horse's neck droops with weariness. His boots +are splashed with mud, his coat torn by the thorns. He is a visitor, +vainly trying to find his way home, having come some ten or fifteen miles +across country since the morning. The labourer shows the route--the +longest way round is the shortest at night--and as they go listens eagerly +to the hunter's tale of the run. At the cross roads they part with mutual +goodwill towards each other, and a shilling, easily earned, pays that +night for the cottager's pipe and glass of ale. + + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + + +THE FINE LADY FARMER. COUNTRY GIRLS + + +A pair of well-matched bays in silver-plated harness, and driven by a +coachman in livery, turn an easy curve round a corner of the narrow +country road, forcing you to step on the sward by the crimson-leaved +bramble bushes, and sprinkling the dust over the previously glossy surface +of the newly fallen horse chestnuts. Two ladies, elegantly dressed, lounge +in the carriage with that graceful idleness--that indifferent +indolence--only to be acquired in an atmosphere of luxury. Before they +pass out of sight round another turn of the road it is possible to observe +that one at least possesses hair of the fashionable hue, and a complexion +delicately brilliant--whether wholly natural or partly aided by art. The +other must be pronounced a shade less rich in the colours of youth, but is +perhaps even more expensively dressed. An experienced observer would at +once put them down as mother and daughter, as, indeed, they are. + +The polished spokes of the wheels glitter in the sun, the hoofs of the +high-stepping pair beat the firm road in regular cadence, and smoothly the +carriage rolls on till the brown beech at the corner hides it. But a sense +of wealth, of social station, and refinement--strange and in strong +contrast to the rustic scene--lingers behind, like a faint odour of +perfume. There are the slow teams pulling stolidly at the ploughs--they +were stopped, of course, for the carters to stare at the equipage; there +are the wheat ricks; yonder a lone farmstead, and black cattle grazing in +the pasture. Surely the costly bays, whose hoofs may even now be heard, +must belong to the lordly owner of these broad acres--this undulating +landscape of grass and stubble, which is not beautiful but evidently +fertile! + +A very brief inquiry at the adjacent market town disposes of this natural +conclusion. It is the carriage of a tenant farmer--but what a tenant! The +shopkeepers here are eloquent, positively gratefully eloquent, in the +praise of his wife and daughter. Customers!--no such customers had been +known in the old borough from time immemorial. The tradesman as he speaks +involuntarily pulls out his till, glances in, and shuts it up with a +satisfied bang. The old style of farmer, solid and substantial enough, +fumbling at the bottom of his canvas bag for silver and gold, was a crusty +curmudgeon where silk and satin, kid gloves, and so forth were concerned. +His wife had to look sharp after her poultry, geese and turkeys, and such +similar perquisites, in order to indulge in any innocent vanity, +notwithstanding that the rent was paid and a heavy balance at the bank. + +Then he would have such a length of credit--a year at least--and nowadays +a shopkeeper, though sure of his money, cannot wait long for it. But to +ask for the account was to give mortal offence. The bill would be paid +with the remark, intended to be intensely sarcastic, 'Suppose you thought +we was a-going to run away--eh?' and the door would never again be +darkened by those antique breeches and gaiters. As for the common run of +ordinary farmers, their wives bought a good deal, but wanted it cheap and, +looking at the low price of corn and the 'paper' there was floating about, +it did not do to allow a long bill to be run up. But the Grange +people--ah! the Grange people put some life into the place. 'Money! they +must have heaps of money' (lowering his voice to a whisper). 'Why, Mrs. +---- brought him a fortune, sir; why, she's got a larger income than our +squire' (as if it were, rank treason to say so). 'Mr. ---- has got money +too, and bless you, they holds their heads as high as their landlord's, +and good reason they should. They spend as much in a week as the squire do +in a month, and don't cheapen nothing, and your cheque just whenever you +like to ask for it. That's what I calls gentlefolks.' For till and counter +gauge long descent, and heraldic quarterings, and ancestral Crusaders, far +below the chink of ready money, that synonym for all the virtues. + +The Grange people, indeed, are so conspicuous, that there is little +secrecy about them or their affairs. The house they reside in--it cannot +be called a farmstead--is a large villa-like mansion of recent erection, +and fitted with every modern convenience. The real farmstead which it +supplanted lies in a hollow at some distance, and is occupied by the head +bailiff, for there are several employed. As the architecture of the villa +is consonant with modern 'taste,' so too the inferior is furnished in the +'best style,' of course under the supervision of the mistress. Mrs. ---- +has filled it with rosewood and ormolu, with chairs completely gilt, legs, +back, seat, and all, with luxurious ottomans, 'occasional' tables inlaid +with mother-o'-pearl, soft carpets, polished brazen grate-fittings, +semi-ecclesiastical, semi-mediaeval, and so forth. + +Everywhere the glitter of glass, mirrors over the mantelpieces, mirrors +let into panels, glass chiffoniers, and pendent prisms of glass round the +ornamental candlesticks. Mixed with this some of the latest productions of +the new English Renaissance--stiff, straight-back, plain oak chairs, such +as men in armour may have used--together with Japanese screens. In short, +just such a medley of artistic styles as may be seen in scores of suburban +villas where money is of little account, and even in houses of higher +social pretensions. There is the usual illustrated dining-room literature, +the usual _bric-à-brac_, the usual cabinet series of poets. There are oil +paintings on the walls; there is an immense amount of the most expensive +electroplate on the dinner table; the toilet accessories in the guest +chambers are 'elegant' and _recherché_. The upholsterer has not been +grudged. + +For Mrs. ---- is the daughter of a commercial man, one of the principals +of a great firm, and has been accustomed to these things from her youth +upwards. She has no sympathies with the past, that even yet is loth to +quit its hold of the soil and of those who are bred upon it. The ancient +simplicity and plainness of country life are positively repulsive to her; +she associates them with poverty. Her sympathies are with warm, +well-lighted rooms, full of comfort, shadowless because of the glare of +much gas. She is not vulgar, just the reverse--she is a thorough lady, but +she is not of the country and its traditions. She is the city and the +suburb transplanted to the midst of corn, and grass, and cattle. She has +her maid, skilled in the toilet, her carriage and pair and pony carriage, +grooms, footmen, just exactly as she would have done had she brought her +magnificent dowry to a villa at Sydenham. + +In the season, with her daughter, she goes to town, and drives daily in +the park, just the same as to-day she has driven through the leaf-strewn +country-lane to the market town. They go also to the sea-side, and now and +then to the Continent. They are, of course, invited to the local balls, +and to many of the best houses on more private occasions. The +ramifications of finance do not except the proudest descendants of the +Crusaders, and the 'firm' has its clients even among them. Bonnets come +down from Madame Louise, boxes of novels from Mudie's; 'Le Follet' is read +in the original, and many a Parisian romance as well. Visitors are +continually coming and going--the carriage is perpetually backwards and +forwards to the distant railway station. Friends come to the shooting, the +hunting, the fishing; there is never any lack of society. + +The house is full of servants, and need be, to wait upon these people. +Now, in former days, and not such a great while since, the best of +servants came from the country. Mistresses sought for them, and mourned +when, having imbibed town ways and town independence, they took their +departure to 'better' themselves. But that is a thing of the past; it is +gone with the disappearance of the old style of country life. Servant +girls in farmhouses when young used to have a terribly hard life: hard +work, hard fare, up early of a morning, stone flags under foot by day, +bare boards under foot upstairs, small pay, and hard words too often. But +they turned out the best of women, the healthiest and strongest, the most +sought after. Now they learn a great deal about Timbuctoo, and will soon, +no doubt, about Cyprus; but the 'servant from the country' is no more. +Nothing less will suit them to begin with than the service of the parish +clergyman, then they aspire to the Grange, get there, and receive a +finishing education, and can never afterwards condescend to go where a +footman is not kept. They become, in short, fine ladies, whose fathers are +still at the plough--ladies who at home have been glad of bread and bacon, +and now cannot possibly survive without hot butcher's meat every day, and +game and fish in their seasons. + +But to return. Mrs. ---- and her daughter have also their saddle horses. +They do not often hunt, but frequently go to the meet. They have, it is +true, an acceptable excuse for preferring riding to walking--the fashion +of tying the dress back so tightly makes it extremely difficult for a lady +to get over a country stile. The rigours of winter only enable them to +appear even yet more charming in furs and sealskin. In all this the Grange +people have not laid themselves open to any reproach as to the +extravagance or pretension of their doings. With them it is genuine, real, +unaffected: in brief, they have money, and have a right to what it can +purchase. + +Mr. ---- is not a tenant farmer from necessity; personally he is not a +farmer at all, and knows no more of shorthorns than the veriest 'City' +man. He has a certain taste for country life, and this is his way of +enjoying it--and a very acute way, too, when you come to analyse it. The +major portion of his capital is, with his wife's, in the 'firm'; it is +administered and employed for him by men whose family interests and his +are identical, whose knowledge of business is profound, whose own capital +is there too. It is a fortunate state of things, not brought about in a +day, but the growth of more than one generation. Now this man, as has been +remarked, has a taste for country life--that is to say, he is an +enthusiast over horses--not betting, but horses in their best form. He +likes to ride and drive about, to shoot, and fish, and hunt. There is +nothing despicable in this, but, after the manner of men, of course he +must find an excuse. + +He found it in the children when they were young--two boys and one girl. +It was better for them to have country air, to ride about the country +lanes, and over the hills. The atmosphere altogether was more healthy, +more manly than in the suburbs of a city. The excuse is a good one. Now +come the means; two plans are open to him. He can buy an estate, or he can +rent a large farm, or rather series of farms. If he purchases a fine +estate he must withdraw his capital from business. In the first place, +that would be inconvenient to old friends, and even unjust to them; in the +second place, it would reduce his income most materially. Suppose we say, +not for absolute exactness, but for the sake of present contrast, that +capital well invested in business brings in ten per cent. The same capital +invested in land brings in, say, three per cent. nominally; but is it as +much in reality if you deduct those expensive improvements upon which +tenants insist nowadays, and the five per cents, and ten per cents, +allowed off the rent in bad years? At all events, it is certain that +landlords, as a class, are investing more and more every year in business, +which looks as if they did not consider land itself sufficiently +remunerative. In addition, when you have bought your estate, should you +subsequently wish to realise, the difficulties and delays are very trying. +You cannot go down to your broker and say, 'Sell me a thousand acres this +morning.' Capital in land is locked up. + +Mr. ----, having been trained in traditions of ready money and easy +transfer, does not like this prospect. But as the tenant of a great farm +it is quite another matter. The larger part of his capital still remains +in the 'firm,' and earns him a handsome income. That which is invested in +stock, cattle, horses, implements, &c., is in a sense readily negotiable +if ever he should desire to leave. Instead of having to pet and pamper +discontented tenants, his landlord has to pet and pamper him. He has, in +fact, got the upper hand. There are plenty of landlords who would be only +too glad to get the rich Mr. ---- to manure and deep-plough their lands; +but there are comparatively few Mr. ----'s whose rent-day payments can be +implicitly relied on. Mr. ----, in point of fact, gets all the sweets of +the country gentleman's life, and leaves the owner all the sour. He has no +heir presumptive to check his proceedings; no law of entail to restrain +him; no old settlements to bind him hand and foot; none of those hundred +and one family interests to consult which accumulate in the course of +years around a landed estate, and so seriously curtail the freedom of the +man in possession, the head of the family. So far as liberty and financial +considerations go, he is much better off than his landlord, who perhaps +has a title. + +Though he knows nothing of farming, he has the family instinct of accounts +and figures; he audits the balance-sheets and books of his bailiff +personally, and is not easily cheated. Small peculations of course go on, +but nothing serious. The farms pay their way, and contribute a trifle +towards the household expenses. For the rest, it is taken out in liberty, +out-of-door life, field sports, and unlimited horses. His wife and +daughter mix in the best society the county affords, besides their annual +visits to town and the sea-side: they probably enjoy thrice the liberty +and pleasure they would elsewhere. Certainly they are in blooming health. +The eldest son is studying for the law, the younger has the commercial +instinct more strongly developed, and is already with the 'firm.' Both of +them get the full benefit of country life whenever they wish; both of them +feel that there is plenty of capital behind them, and not the slightest +jealousy exists on account of primogeniture. Of course they have their +troubles--what family has not its troubles?--but on the whole their +position is an enviable one. + +When Mrs. ---- and her daughter rustle into their pew at church--placed +next in honour to that of the proprietor of the soil--all eyes are turned +upon them. The old-fashioned farmer's wife, who until her years pressed +heavily upon her made the cheese and butter in her husband's dairy, is not +so old but that her eyes can distinguish the colour of a ribbon. She may +talk of such things as vanities, and unknown in her day, but for all that +a pair of keen eyes criticise skirt, and trimmings, and braidings, and so +forth, as displayed up in the Grange pew. Her daughter, who is quite +young--for in her mother's time farming people did not marry till late in +life--brings a still keener pair of eyes to bear in the same direction. + +The bonnets from Regent Street are things to think over and talk of. The +old lady disinters her ancient finery; the girl, by hook or crook, is +determined to dress in the fashion. If one farmer's wife is a fine lady, +why not another? Do not even the servant girls at the Grange come out +twenty times finer than people who have a canvas bag full of sovereigns at +home, and many such bags at the bank? So that the Grange people, though +they pay their way handsomely, and plough deep and manure lavishly, and +lead the van of agriculture, are not, perhaps, an unmixed good. They help +on that sapping and undermining of the ancient, sturdy simplicity, the +solid oak of country character, replacing it with veneer. It is not, of +course, all, or a tenth part, their fault, or in any way traceable to +them. It is part and parcel of the wide-spread social changes which have +gradually been proceeding. + +But the tenant farmer's wife who made the butter and cheese, and even +helped to salt bacon, where is she now? Where are the healthy daughters +that used to assist her? The wife is a fine lady--not, indeed, with +carriage and pair, but with a dandy dog-cart at least; not with +three-guinea bonnets, but with a costly sealskin jacket. There are kid +gloves on her hands; there is a suspicion of perfume about her; there is a +rustling of silk and satin, and a waving of ostrich feathers. The daughter +is pale and interesting, and interprets Beethoven, and paints the old +mill; while a skilled person, hired at a high price, rules in the dairy. +The son rides a-hunting, and is glib on the odds. The 'offices'--such it +is the fashion to call the places in which work was formerly done--are +carefully kept in the background. The violets and snowdrops and crocuses +are rooted up, all the sweet and tender old flowers ruthlessly eradicated, +to make way for a blazing parterre after the manner of the suburban +villa--gay in the summer, in the spring a wilderness of clay, in the +autumn a howling desert of musty evergreens.. + +The 'civilisation' of the town has, in fact, gone out and taken root +afresh in the country. There is no reason why the farmer should not be +educated; there is no reason why his wife should not wear a sealskin +jacket, or the daughter interpret Beethoven. But the question arises, Has +not some of the old stubborn spirit of earnest work and careful prudence +gone with the advent of the piano and the oil painting? While wearing the +dress of a lady, the wife cannot tuck up her sleeves and see to the +butter, or even feed the poultry, which are down at the pen across 'a +nasty dirty field.' It is easy to say that farming is gone to the dogs, +that corn is low, and stock uncertain, and rents high, and so forth. All +that is true, but difficulties are nothing new; nor must too much be +expected from the land. + +A moderate-sized farm, of from 200 to 800 acres, will no more enable the +mistress and the misses to play the fine lady to-day than it would two +generations ago. It requires work now the same as then--steady, +persevering work--and, what is more important, prudence, economy, +parsimony if you like; nor do these necessarily mean the coarse manners of +a former age. Manners may be good, education may be good, the intellect +and even the artistic sense may be cultivated, and yet extravagance +avoided. The proverb is true still: 'You cannot have your hare and cook +him too.' Now so many cook their hares in the present day without even +waiting to catch them first. A euphuism has been invented to cover the +wrongfulness of this system; it is now called 'discounting.' The fine lady +farmers discount their husbands' corn and fat cattle, cheese and butter, +before they reach the market. By-and-by the plough stops in the furrow, +and the team is put up to auction, and farewell is said to the old +homestead for evermore. + +There was no warmer welcome to be met with in life than used to be +bestowed upon the fortunate visitor to an old house in the country where +the people were not exactly farmers in the ordinary sense, because they +were sufficiently well off to be independent, and yet made no pretence to +gentility. You dropped in quite unexpectedly and informally after a +pleasant stroll about the fields with a double-barrel, untrammelled by any +attendant. The dogs were all over cleavers sticking to their coats, and +your boots had to be wiped with a wisp of straw; your pocket was heavy +with a couple of rabbits or a hare, and your hands black enough from +powder and handling gates and stiles. But they made you feel immediately +that such trifles were not of the slightest account. + +The dogs were allowed to rush in anyhow and set to work to lick their paws +by the fire as if the house was their own. Your apology about your boots +and general state of disorder was received with a smile by the mistress, +who said she had sons of her own, and knew their ways. Forthwith one +sturdy son seized the double-barrel, and conveyed it to a place of safety; +a second took the rabbits or the hare, that you might not be incommoded by +such a lump in your pocket, and sent the game on home to your quarters by +a labourer; a third relieved you of your hat. As many tall young ladies +rose to offer you a seat, so that it was really difficult to know which +way to turn, besides which the old grandfather with silvery hair pressed +you to take his chair by the fire. + +They had just sat down to the old-fashioned tea at half-past four, and in +a moment there was a cup and plate ready. The tea had a fragrant scent, +warm and grateful after the moist atmosphere of the meadows, smelling of +decaying leaves. The mistress suggested that a nip of brandy might improve +it, thinking that tea was hardly strong enough for a man. But that was, +declined; for what could be more delicious than the sweet, thick cream +poured in by a liberal hand? A fine ham had already been put on the table, +as if by magic--the girls really seemed to anticipate everything you could +possibly want. As for the butter, it was exquisite, and so, too, the +home-baked bread, the more so, because only touched in the processes of +preparing by the whitest and softest of hands. Such simple things become +luxuries when brought to perfection by loving care. The old dog on the +hearthrug came thrusting his nose into your hands, making almost too great +friends, being perfectly well aware (cunning old fellow) that he could +coax more out of a visitor than one of the family, who knew how he had +stuffed all day. + +Over all there was an atmosphere of welcome, a genial brightness. The +young men were anxious to tell you where the best sport could be got. The +young ladies had a merry, genuine, unaffected smile--clearly delighted to +see you, and not in the least ashamed of it. They showed an evident desire +to please, without a trace of an _arriére pensée_. Tall, well-developed, +in the height of good health, the bloom upon the cheek and the brilliant +eyes formed a picture irresistibly charming. But it was the merry laugh +that so long dwelt in the memory--nothing so thoroughly enchants one as +the woman who laughs from her heart in the joyousness of youth. They +joined freely in the conversation, but did not thrust themselves forward. +They were, of course, eager for news of the far away world, but not a hint +was breathed of those social scandals which now form our favourite gossip. +From little side remarks concerning domestic matters it was evident that +they were well acquainted with household duties. Indeed, they assisted to +remove the things from the table without any consciousness that it was a +menial task. + +It was not long after tea before, drawing round the fire, pipes were +produced, and you were asked to smoke. Of course you declined on account +of the ladies, but it was none the less pleasant to be asked. There was +the great secret of it all-the genuine, liberal, open-handed and +open-hearted proffering of all the house contained to the guest. And it +was none the less an amusing conversation because each of the girls +candidly avowed her own opinions upon such topics as were started--blushing +a little, it is true, if you asked the reason for the opinion, for ladies +are not always quite ready with the why and wherefore. But the contrast of +character, the individuality displayed, gave a zest and interest to the +talk; so that the hour wore late before you were aware of it. Then, if you +would go, two, at least, of the three boys piloted you by the best and +cleanest route, and did not wish you farewell till you were in the +straight road. This was not so many years ago. + +Today, if you call at such a country house, how strangely different is the +reception! None of the family come to the door to meet you. A servant +shows you into a parlour--drawing-room is the proper word now--well +carpeted and furnished in the modern style. She then takes your name--what +a world of change is shown in that trifling piece of etiquette! By-and-by, +after the proper interval, the ladies enter in morning costume, not a +stray curl allowed to wander from its stern bands, nature rigidly +repressed, decorum--'Society'--in every flounce and trimming. You feel +that you have committed a solecism coming on foot, and so carrying the +soil on your boots from the fields without into so elegant an apartment +Visitors are obviously expected to arrive on wheels, and in correct trim +for company. A remark about the crops falls on barren ground; a question +concerning the dairy, ignorantly hazarded, is received with so much +_hauteur_ that at last you see such subjects are considered vulgar. Then a +touch of the bell, and decanters of port and sherry are produced and our +wine presented to you on an electro salver together with sweet biscuits. +It is the correct thing to sip one glass and eat one biscuit. + +The conversation is so insipid, so entirely confined to the merest +platitudes, that it becomes absolutely a relief to escape. You are not +pressed to stay and dine, as you would have been in the old days--not +because there is a lack of hospitality, but because they would prefer a +little time for preparation in order that the dinner might be got up in +polite style. So you depart--chilled and depressed. No one steps with you +to open the gate and exchange a second farewell, and express a cordial wish +to see you again there. You feel that you must walk in measured step and +place your hat precisely perpendicular, for the eyes of 'Society' are upon +you. What a comfort when you turn a corner behind the hedge and can thrust +your hands into your pockets and whistle! + +The young ladies, however, still possess one thing which they cannot yet +destroy--the good constitution and the rosy look derived from ancestors +whose days were spent in the field under the glorious sunshine and the +dews of heaven. They worry themselves about it in secret and wish they +could appear more ladylike--i.e. thin and white. Nor can they feel quite +so languid and indifferent, and _blasé_ as they desire. Thank Heaven they +cannot! But they have succeeded in obliterating the faintest trace of +character, and in suppressing the slightest approach to animation. They +have all got just the same opinions on the same topics--that is to say, +they have none at all; the idea of a laugh has departed. There is a dead +line of uniformity. But if you are sufficiently intimate to enter into the +inner life of the place it will soon be apparent that they either are or +wish to appear up to the 'ways of the world.' + +They read the so-called social journals, and absorb the gossip, +tittle-tattle, and personalities--absorb it because they have no means of +comparison or of checking the impression it produces of the general loose +tone of society. They know all about it, much more than you do. No turn of +the latest divorce case or great social exposure has escaped them, and the +light, careless way in which it is the fashion nowadays to talk openly of +such things, as if they were got up like a novel--only with living +characters--for amusement, has penetrated into this distant circle. But +then they have been to half the leading watering-places--from Brighton to +Scarborough; as for London, it is an open book to them; the railways have +long dissipated the pleasing mysteries that once hung over the metropolis. +Talk of this sort is, of course, only talk; still it is not a satisfactory +sign of the times. If the country girl is no longer the hoyden that swung +on the gates and romped in the hay, neither has she the innocent thought +of the olden days. + +At the same time our friends are greatly devoted to the Church--old people +used to attend on Sundays as a sacred and time honoured duty, but the +girls leave them far behind, for they drive up in a pony carriage to the +distant church at least twice a week besides. They talk of matins and +even-song; they are full of vestments, and have seen 'such lovely things' +in that line. At Christmas and Easter they are mainly instrumental in +decorating the interior till it becomes perfectly gaudy with colour, and +the old folk mutter and shake their heads. Their devotion in getting +hothouse flowers is quite touching. One is naturally inclined to look with +a liberal eye upon what is capable of a good construction. But is all this +quite spontaneous? Has the new curate nothing at all to do with it? Is it +not considered rather the correct thing to be 'High' in views, and even to +manifest an Ultramontane tendency? There is a rather too evident +determination to go to the extreme--the girls are clearly bent upon +thrusting themselves to the very front of the parish, so that no one shall +be talked of but the Misses ----. Anything is seized upon, that will +afford an opening for posing before the world of the parish, whether it be +an extreme fashion in dress or in ritual. + +And the parish is splitting up into social cliques. These girls, the local +leaders of fashion, hold their heads far above those farmers' sons who +bear a hand in the field. No one is eligible who takes a share in manual +work: not even to be invited to the house, or even to be acknowledged if +met in the road. The Misses ----, whose papa is well-to-do, and simply +rides round on horseback to speak to the men with his steam-plough, could +not possibly demean themselves to acknowledge the existence of the young +men who actually handle a fork in the haymaking time. Nothing less than +the curate is worthy of their smile. A very great change has come over +country society in this way. Of course, men (and women) with money were +always more eligible than those without; but it is not so very long ago +that one and all--well-to-do and poor--had one bond in common. Whether +they farmed large or small acres, all worked personally. There was no +disgrace in the touch of the plough--rather the contrary; now it is +contamination itself. + +The consequence is that the former general goodwill and acquaintanceship +is no more. There are no friendly meetings; there is a distinct social +barrier between the man and the woman who labours and the one who does +not. These fashionable young ladies could not possibly even go into the +hayfield because the sun would spoil their complexion, they refresh +themselves with aërated waters instead. They could not possibly enter the +dairy because it smells so nasty. They would not know their father's teams +if they met them on the road. As for speaking to the workpeople--the idea +would be too absurd! + +Once on a time a lift in the waggon just across the wet turf to the +macadamised road--if it chanced to be going that way--would have been +looked upon as a fortunate thing. The Misses ---- would indeed stare if +one of their papa's carters touched his hat and suggested that they should +get up. They have a pony carriage and groom of their own. He drives the +milk-cart to the railway station in the morning; in the afternoon he dons +the correct suit and drives the Misses ---- into the town to shopping. Now +there exists a bitter jealousy between the daughters of the tradesmen in +the said town and these young ladies. There is a race between them as to +which shall be first in fashion and social rank. The Misses ---- know very +well that it galls their rivals to see them driving about so grandly half +the afternoon up and down the streets, and to see the big local people +lift their hats, as the banker, with whom, of course, the large farmer has +intimate dealings. All this is very little; on paper it reads moan and +contemptible: but in life it is real--in life these littlenesses play a +great part. The Misses ---- know nothing of those long treasured recipes +formerly handed down in old country houses, and never enter the kitchen. +No doubt, if the fashion for teaching cooking presently penetrates into +the parish, they will take a leading part, and with much show and blowing +of trumpets instruct the cottager how to boil the pot. Anything, in short, +that happens to be the rage will attract them, but there is little that is +genuine about them, except the eagerness for a new excitement. + +What manner of men shall accept these ladies as their future helpmates? +The tenant farmers are few and far between that could support their +expenditure upon dress, the servants they would require, and last, but not +least, the waste which always accompanies ignorance in household +management. Nor, indeed, do they look for tenant farmers, but hope for +something higher in the scale. + +The Misses ---- are fortunate in possessing a 'papa' sufficiently +well-to-do to enable them to live in this manner. But there are hundreds +of young ladies whose fathers have not got so much capital in their farms, +while what they have is perhaps borrowed. Of course these girls help +cheerfully in the household, in the dairy, and so forth? No. Some are +forced by necessity to assist in the household with unwilling hands: but +few, indeed, enter the dairy. All dislike the idea of manual labour, +though never so slight. Therefore they acquire a smattering of knowledge, +and go out as governesses. They earn but a small stipend in that +profession, because they have rarely gone through a sufficiently strict +course of study themselves. But they would rather live with strangers, +accepting a position which is often invidious, than lift a hand to work at +home, so great is the repugnance to manual labour. These, again, have no +domestic knowledge (beyond that of teaching children), none of cooking, or +general household management. If they marry a tenant farmer of their own +class, with but small capital, they are too often a burden financially. +Whence comes this intense dislike to hand work--this preference for the +worst paid head work? It is not confined, of course, to the gentler sex. +No more striking feature of modern country life can be found. + +You cannot blame these girls, whether poor or moderately well-to-do, for +thinking of something higher, more refined and elevating than the +cheese-tub or the kitchen. It is natural, and it is right, that they +should wish to rise above that old, dull, dead level in which their +mothers and grandmothers worked from youth to age. The world has gone on +since then--it is a world of education, books, and wider sympathies. In +all this they must and ought to share. The problem is how to enjoy the +intellectual progress of the century and yet not forfeit the advantages of +the hand labour and the thrift of our ancestors? How shall we sit up late +at night, burning the midnight oil of study, and yet rise with the dawn, +strong from sweet sleep, to guide the plough? One good thing must be +scored down to the credit of the country girls of the day. They have done +much to educate the men. They have shamed them out of the old rough, +boorish ways; compelled them to abandon the former coarseness, to become +more gentlemanly in manner. By their interest in the greater world of +society, literature, art, and music (more musical publications probably +are now sold for the country in a month than used to be in a year), they +have made the somewhat narrow-sighted farmer glance outside his parish. If +the rising generation of tenant farmers have lost much of the bigoted +provincial mode of thought, together with the provincial pronunciation, it +is undoubtedly due to the influence of the higher ideal of womanhood that +now occupies their minds. And this is a good work to have accomplished. + + + + + +CHAPTER X + + + +MADEMOISELLE, THE GOVERNESS + + +A country 'roadside' railway station seemed deserted upon a warm August +afternoon. It was all but concealed on that level ground by the hedges and +trees of the fields with which it was surrounded. There was no sound of +man or wheels, and nothing moving upon the platform. On the low green +banks of the rail, where the mast-like telegraph poles stood, the broad +leaves of the coltsfoot almost covered the earth, and were dusty with the +sand whirled up an hour since behind the rushing express. By the footpath, +higher up under the close-cropped hedge, the yarrow flourished, lifting +its white flower beside the trodden soil. The heavy boots of the +platelayers walking to and fro to their work on the permanent way brushed +against it, and crushed the venturous fibres of the creeping cinquefoil +that stretched into the path. From the yellow standing wheat the sparrows +rose in a bevy, and settled upon the hedge, chirping merrily. Farther +away, where a meadow had been lately mown, the swallows glided to and fro, +but just above the short grass, round and round, under the shadow of the +solitary oaks. Over the green aftermath is the swallows' favourite haunt +when the day, though passing fair, does not look like settled weather. For +lack of such weather the reapers have not yet entered the ripening corn. + +But, for the hour, the sun shines brightly, and a narrow line along the +upper surfaces of the metals, burnished by the polishing friction of a +thousand wheels, glints like silver under the rays. The red brick of the +booking-office looks redder and more staring under the fierce light. The +door is locked, and there is no waiting-room in which to take shelter; +nothing but a projecting roof over a part of the platform. On the lintel +is the stationmaster's name painted in small white letters, like the name +of the landlord over the doorway of an inn. Two corded boxes lie on the +platform, and near them stand half a dozen rusty milk tins, empty. With +the exception of a tortoiseshell cat basking in the sunshine, there seems +nothing living in the station, and the long endless rails stretching on +either side in a straight line are vacant. For hours during the day the +place slumbers, and a passenger gliding by in the express may well wonder +why a station was built at all in the midst of trees and hedges without so +much as a single visible house. + +But by night and very early in the morning there is bustle enough. Then +the white painted cattle pen yonder, from which the animals are forced +into the cattle trucks, is full of frightened beasts, lowing doubtfully, +and only goaded in by the resounding blows upon their backs. Then the +sheep file in in more patient ranks, but also doubtful and bleating as +they go. An engine snorts to and fro, shunting coal waggons on to the +siding--coal for the traction engines, and to be consumed in threshing out +the golden harvest around. Signalmen, with red and green lights, rush +hither and thither, the bull's-eyes now concealed by the trucks, and now +flashing out brightly like strange will-o'-the-wisps. At intervals long +and heavy goods trains go by, causing the solid earth to tremble. + +Presently the sun rises over the distant hills, and the red arms of the +signals stand out clearly defined, and then the noise of wheels, the +shouts of the drivers, and the quick sound of hoofs betoken the approach +of the milk carts with their freight for the early morning train. From the +platform it is out of sight; but a few yards from the gate a small inn is +hidden under the tall elms of the hedgerow. It has sprung up since the +railway came, and is called the Railway Hotel. It proffers good stabling, +and even a fly and posting for the passenger who finds himself set down at +that lonely place--a mere road--without the certainty of a friendly +carriage meeting him. The porter may, perhaps, be taking his glass within. +The inspector or stationmaster (whichever may be technically correct), now +that the afternoon express has gone safely through, has strolled up the +line to his garden, to see how his potatoes are getting on. He knows full +well that the slow, stopping train despatched just after it will not reach +his station for at least an hour. + +Outside the 'Hotel' stands a pony cart--a gaily coloured travelling rug +lies across the seat, and the pony, a perfect little beauty, is cropping +the grass by the hedge side. By-and-by a countryman comes up the road, +evidently a labourer dressed in his best--he hastens to the 'Hotel,' +instead of to the station, and finds from the porter that he is at least +twenty minutes too soon. Then a waggon arrives, and stops while the carter +drinks. Presently the porter and the labourer stroll together over to the +platform, and after them a young fellow--a farmer's son, not yet a man but +more than a boy--comes out and re-arranges the travelling rug in the pony +cart. He then walks on to the platform, whistling defiantly with his hands +in his pockets, as if he had got an unpleasant duty to perform, but was +not going to be intimidated. He watches the stationmaster unlock the +booking-office, and follows him in out of idle curiosity. + +It is booking-office, parcel-office, waiting-room and all combined, and +the telegraph instrument is there too, some of the needles blocked over +with a scrap of paper. The place is crammed with sacks, bags, boxes, +parcels and goods mixed together, such as ironwork for agricultural +machines, and in a corner lies a rick-cloth smelling strongly of tar like +the rigging of a ship. On the counter, for there is no sliding window as +usual at large stations, stands the ticket-stamping machine, surrounded +with piles of forms, invoices, notices, letters, and the endless documents +inseparable from railway business, all printed on a peculiar paper with a +faint shade of yellow. + +Somebody says 'A' be coming,' and the young farmer walks out to watch the +white steam now just visible far away over the trees. The train runs round +the curve on to the straight, and the engine in front grows gradually +larger and larger as it comes nearer, visibly vibrating till the brake +draws it up at the platform. + +Master Jack has no difficulty in identifying the passenger he has come to +meet. His sister, a governess, coming home for a holiday, is the only +person that alights, and the labourer, dressed for the occasion, is the +only one who gets in. No sooner is he in than he gapes out of the window +open-mouthed at Miss S----. She wears a light Ulster to protect her dress +from the dust and dirt of travel. Her fashionable hat has an air of the +West End; her gloved hand holds a dainty little bag; she steps as those +must do who wear tight dresses and high heels to their boots. Up goes her +parasol instantly to shade her delicate complexion from the glaring sun. +Master Jack does not even take her hand, or kiss her; he looks her up and +down with a kind of contemptuous admiration, nods, and asks how much +luggage? He has, you see, been repulsed for 'gush' on previous occasions. +Mademoiselle points to her luggage, which the porter, indeed, has already +taken out. He worked in his boyhood on her father's farm, and attends upon +her with cheerful alacrity. She gives him a small coin, but looks the +other way, without a sign of recognition. The luggage is placed in the +pony cart. + +Mademoiselle gets in without so much as patting the beautiful little +creature in the shafts. Her ticket is the only first-class ticket that has +been given up at that lonely station all the week. 'Do make haste,' she +remarks petulantly as her brother pauses to speak to a passing man who +looks like a dealer. Master Jack turns the pony cart, and away they go +rattling down the road. The porter, whilom an agricultural labourer, looks +after them with a long and steady stare. It is not the first time he has +seen this, but he can hardly take it in yet. + +'She do come the lady grandish, don't her?' the dealer remarks +meditatively. 'Now her father----' + +'Ay,' interrupts the porter, 'he be one of the old sort; but she----' he +cannot get any further for lack of an appropriate illustration. The +arrival of mademoiselle periodically takes their breath away at that +little place. + +As the pair rattle along in the pony trap there is for a time a total +silence. Mademoiselle looks neither to the right nor the left, and asks +after nobody. She does not note the subtle tint of bronze that has begun +to steal over the wheat, nor the dark discoloured hay, witness of rough +weather, still lying in the meadows. Her face--it is a very pretty +face--does not light up with any enthusiasm as well-remembered spots come +into sight. A horseman rides round a bend of the road, and meets them--he +stares hard at her--she takes no heed. It is a young farmer, an old +acquaintance, anxious for some sign of recognition. After he has passed he +lifts his hat, like a true countryman, unready at the moment. As for the +brother, his features express gathering and almost irrepressible disgust. +He kicks with his heavy boots, he whistles, and once now and then gives a +species of yell. Mademoiselle turns up her pretty nose, and readjusts her +chevron gloves. + +'Have you not got any cuffs, Jack?' she asks, 'your wrists look so bare +without them.' + +Jack makes no reply. Another silence. Presently he points with an +expression meant to be sardonic at a distant farmhouse with his whip. + +'Jenny's married,' he says, full well aware that this announcement will +wake her up, for there had been of old a sort of semi-feud or rivalry +between the two girls, daughters of neighbouring farmers, and both with +pretensions to good looks. + +'Who to?' she asks eagerly. + +'To old Billy L----; lots of tin.' + +'Pshaw!' replies mademoiselle. 'Why, he's sixty, a nasty, dirty old +wretch.' + +'He has plenty of money,' suggests Jack. + +'What you think plenty of money, perhaps. He is nothing but a farmer,' as +if a farmer was quite beneath her notice. + +Just then a farmer rode out into the road from the gateway of a field, and +Jack pulled up the pony. The farmer was stout, elderly, and florid; he +appeared fairly well-to-do by his dress, but was none too particular to +use his razor regularly. Yet there was a tenderness--almost a pathos--in +the simple words he used:--'Georgie, dear, come home?' 'Yes, papa,' and +she kissed his scrubby chin as he bent down from his horse. He would not +go to the station to meet her; but he had been waiting about behind the +hedge for an hour to see her come along. He rode beside the pony cart, but +Georgie did not say anything more, or ask after any one else. + +As they turned a corner the farmer pointed ahead. 'There's your mother, +Georgie, looking over the garden wall.' The yearning mother had been there +these two hours, knowing that her darling could not arrive before a +certain time, and yet unable in her impatience to stay within. Those old +eyes were dim with tears under the spectacles as Georgie quietly kissed +her forehead, and then suddenly, with something like generous feeling, her +lips. + +They went in, an old pointer, whose days in the stubble were nearly over, +following close at Georgie's heels, but without obtaining a pat for his +loving memory. The table was spread for tea--a snowy cloth, the whitest of +bread, the most delicious golden butter, the ham fresh cooked, as Georgie +might be hungry, the thick cream, the silver teapot, polished for Georgie, +and the bright flowers in the vase before her plate. The window was open, +with its view of the old, old hills, and a breath of summer air came in +from the meadow. The girl glanced round, frowned, and went upstairs to her +room without a word, passing on the landing the ancient clock in its tall +case, ticking loud and slow. + +And this was 'home.' The whole place jarred upon her, fresh as she was +from a fine house in Belgravia. The sitting-room beneath, which she had so +quickly left, looked cheerful and homely, but it was that very homeliness +that jarred upon her. The teapot was real silver, but it was of +old-fashioned shape. Solid as the furniture was, and still after so many +years of service worth money, yet it was chipped by kicks from iron-shod +boots, which had also worn the dingy carpet bare. There was an absence of +the nick-nacks that strew the rooms of people in 'Society.' There was not +even a bell-handle to pull; if you wanted the maid of all work, you must +open the door and call to her. These little things, trifles as they may +be, repelled her. It was a bitter cup to her to come 'home.' + +Mr. S---- was a farmer of fair means, and, compared with many of his +neighbours, well-to-do, and well connected. But he was still a yeoman +only, and personally made pretensions to nothing more. Though he himself +had received little or no education, he quite saw the value of it, and was +determined that his children should be abreast of the times. Accordingly, +so soon as Georgie grew old enough, a governess with high recommendations, +and who asked what the farmer then thought a high price (he knows more +about such things now!) was had down from London. Of course the +rudimentary A B C of learning could just as well have been imparted by an +ordinary person, but Mr. and Mrs. S---- had a feeling which they could not +perhaps have expressed in words, that it was not so much the actual +reading and writing, and French and music, and so on, as a social +influence that was needed to gradually train the little country girl into +a young lady fit to move in higher society. + +The governess did her work thoroughly. Georgie was not allowed to walk in +the wet grass, to climb up the ladder on to the half-completed hayrick, +and romp under the rick-cloth, to paddle with naked feet in the shallow +brook, or any other of the things that country children have done from +time immemorial. Such things she was taught were not ladylike, and, above +all, she was kept away from the cottage people. She was not permitted to +enter their doors, to converse with the women, or to watch the carter with +his horses. Such vulgar folk and their vulgar dialect were to be carefully +avoided. Nor must she get into a hedge after a bird's-nest, lest she +should tear her frock. + +It was not long before the governess really ruled the house. The farmer +felt himself totally unable to interfere in these matters; they were +outside his experience altogether. His wife did not like it, but for +Georgie's sake she gave up her former habits, and endeavoured to order the +house according to the ideas of the governess from London. The traditions, +as it were, of the place were upset. It was not a solitary instance, the +same thing has happened in scores of farmhouses to a more or less degree. +Mr. S---- all his life had ridden on horseback, or driven a gig, which did +very well for him and his wife. But the governess thought Georgie ought to +learn to ride and drive, and gigs were so much out of fashion. So the pony +cart and pony were purchased for her, and in this she went into the +distant market town twice or more weekly. Sometimes it was for shopping, +sometimes to fetch household goods, sometimes to see friends; any excuse +answered very well. The governess said, and really believed, that it was +better for Georgie to be away from the farm as much as possible, to see +town people (if only a country town), and to learn their ways. + +The many cheap illustrated papers giving the last details of fashionable +costumes were, of course, brought home to be carefully read in the +evenings. These publications have a large circulation now in farmhouses. +Naturally Georgie soon began to talk about, and take an interest--as girls +will do--in the young gentlemen of the town, and who was and who was not +eligible. As for the loud-voiced young farmers, with their slouching walk, +their ill-fitting clothes, and stupid talk about cows and wheat, they were +intolerable. A banker's clerk at least--nothing could be thought of under +a clerk in the local banks; of course, his salary was not high, but then +his 'position.' The retail grocers and bakers and such people were quite +beneath one's notice--low, common persons. The 'professional tradesmen' +(whatever that may be) were decidedly better, and could be tolerated. The +solicitors, bank managers, one or two brewers (wholesale--nothing retail), +large corn factors or coal merchants, who kept a carriage of some +kind--these formed the select society next under, and, as it were, +surrounding the clergy and gentry. Georgie at twelve years old looked at +least as high as one of these; a farmhouse was to be avoided above all +things. + +As she grew older her mind was full of the local assembly ball. The ball +had been held for forty years or more, and had all that time been in the +hands of the exclusive upper circles of the market town. They only asked +their own families, relations (not the poor ones), and visitors. When +Georgie was invited to this ball it was indeed a triumph. Her poor mother +cried with pleasure over her ball dress. Poor woman, she was a good, a too +good, mother, but she had never been to a ball. There were, of course, +parties, picnics, and so on, to which Georgie, having entered the charmed +circle, was now asked; and thus her mind from the beginning centred in the +town. The sheep-fold, the cattle-pen, the cheese-tub, these were thrust +aside. They did not interest her, she barely understood the meaning when +her father took the first prize at an important cattle show. What +So-and-so would wear at the flower show, where all the select would come, +much more nearly concerned her. + +At the high-class academy where her education was finished the same +process went on. The other girls quickly made her thoroughly understand (a +bitter knowledge) that the great people in the little market town, the +very richest of them, were but poor in comparison with their papas. Their +papas were in the 'City,' or on ''Change,' and had as many thousands a +year as the largest farmer she knew could reckon hundreds. Georgie felt +ashamed of her papa, recollecting his crumpled old hat, and his scrubby +chin. Being really a nice girl, under the veneer that was so industriously +placed upon her, she made friends among her fellow scholars, and was +invited to more than one of their grand homes in Kensington and the +suburbs of London. There she learned all the pomp of villa life, which put +into the shade the small incomes which displayed their miserable vanities +in the petty market town. Footmen, butlers, late dinners, wines, +carriages, the ceaseless gossip of 'Society' were enough to dazzle the +eyes of a girl born so near the cowshed. The dresses she had to wear to +mix with these grand friends cost a good deal--her parents sacrificing +their own comforts for her advantage--and yet, in comparison with the +beautiful costumes she saw, they seemed shabby. + +Georgie was so far fortunate as to make friends of some of the elder +people, and when she had passed her examinations, and obtained the +diplomas and certificates which are now all essential, through their +interest she obtained at starting a very high salary. It was not long +before she received as much as sixty or seventy pounds a year. It was not +only that she really was a clever and accomplished girl, but her +recommendations were influential. She was employed by wealthy people, who +really did not care what they paid so long as their children were in good +hands. Now to the old folk at home, and to the neighbours, this seemed an +immense salary for a girl, especially when the carriage, the footmen, the +wines, and late dinners, and so on, were taken into consideration. The +money, however, was of very little use to her. She found it necessary to +dress equal to her place. She had to have several dresses to wear, +according to the time of day, and she had to have new ones very often, or +she might be told petulantly and pointedly by her mistress that 'one gets +so weary of seeing the same dresses every day.' Instead of the high salary +leaving a handsome profit, her father had occasionally to pay a stiff bill +for her. But then the 'position'--look at the 'position' and the society. + +Georgie, in process of time, went to Scotland, to Paris, the South of +France, to Rome, and Naples. Being a discreet girl, and having a winning +manner, she became as much a companion to her mistress as governess, and +thus saw and heard more of the world than she would otherwise have done. +She saw some very grand people indeed occasionally. After this, after the +Continent, and, above all, London in the season, the annual visit to the +old farmhouse came to be a bitter time of trial. Georgie had come home now +for a few days only, to ask for money, and already before she had scarcely +spoken had rushed upstairs to hide her feeling of repulsion in the privacy +of her room. + +Her welcome had been warm, and she knew that under the rude exterior it +was more than warm; but the absence of refinement jarred upon her. It all +seemed so uncouth. She shrank from the homely rooms; the very voice of her +mother, trembling with emotion, shocked her ear, unaccustomed to country +pronunciation. She missed the soft accents of the drawing-room. From her +window she could see nothing but the peaceful fields--the hateful green +trees and hedges, the wheat, and the hateful old hills. How miserable it +was not to be born to Grosvenor Square! + +Georgie's case was, of course, exceptional in so far as her 'success' was +concerned. She possessed good natural parts, discretion, and had the +advantage of high-class recommendations. But apart from her 'success,' her +case was not exceptional. The same thing is going on in hundreds of +farmhouses. The daughters from the earliest age are brought up under a +system of education the practical tendency of which is to train their +minds out of the associations of farming. When later on they go out to +teach they are themselves taught by the social surroundings of the +households into which they enter to still more dislike the old-fashioned +ways of agriculture. Take twenty farmers' families, where there are girls, +and out of that twenty fifteen will be found to be preparing for a +scholastic life. The farmer's daughter does not like the shop-counter, +and, as she cannot stay at home, there is nothing left to her but the +profession of governess. Once thoroughly imbued with these 'social' ideas, +and a return to the farm is almost impossible. The result is a continuous +drain of women out of agriculture--of the very women best fitted in the +beginning to be the helpmate of the farmer. In no other calling is the +assistance of the wife so valuable; it is not too much to say that part at +least of the decadence of agriculture is owing to the lack of women +willing to devote themselves as their mothers did before them. It follows +that by degrees the farming caste is dying out. The sons go to the city, +the daughters go to the city; in a generation, or little more, a once +well-known farming family becomes extinct so far as agriculture is +concerned. + +How could such a girl as poor Georgie, looking out of window at the +hateful fields, and all at discord with the peaceful scene, settle down as +the mistress of a lonely farmhouse? + + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + + +FLEECEBOROUGH. A 'DESPOT' + + +An agricultural district, like a little kingdom, has its own capital city. +The district itself is as well defined as if a frontier line had been +marked out around it, with sentinels and barriers across the roads, and +special tolls and duties. Yet an ordinary traveller, upon approaching, +fails to perceive the difference, and may, perhaps, drive right through +the territory without knowing it. The fields roll on and rise into the +hills, the hills sink again into a plain, just the same as elsewhere; +there are cornfields and meadows; villages and farmsteads, and no visible +boundary. Nor is it recognised upon the map. It does not fit into any +political or legal limit; it is neither a county, half a county, a +hundred, or police division. But to the farmer it is a distinct land. If +he comes from a distance he will at once notice little peculiarities in +the fields, the crops, the stock, or customs, and will immediately inquire +if it be not such and such a place that he has heard of. If he resides +within thirty miles or so he will ever since boyhood have heard 'the +uplands' talked of as if it were a separate country, as distinct as +France. Cattle from the uplands, sheep, horses, labourers, corn or hay, or +anything and anybody from thence, he has grown up accustomed to regard +almost as foreign. + +There is good reason, from an agricultural point of view, for this. The +district, with its capital city, Fleeceborough, really is distinct, well +marked, and defined. The very soil and substrata are characteristic. The +products are wheat, and cattle, and sheep, the same as elsewhere, but the +proportions of each, the kind of sheep, the traditionary methods and farm +customs are separate and marked. The rotation of crops is different, the +agreements are on a different basis, the very gates to the fields have +peculiar fastenings, not used in other places. Instead of hedges, the +fields, perhaps, are often divided by dry stone walls, on which, when they +have become old, curious plants may sometimes be found. For the flora, +too, is distinct; you may find herbs here that do not exist a little way +off, and on the other hand, search how you will, you will not discover one +single specimen of a simple flower which strews the meadows elsewhere. + +Here the very farmhouses are built upon a different plan, and with +different materials; the barns are covered with old stone slates, instead +of tiles or thatch. The people are a nation amongst themselves. Their +accent is peculiar and easily recognised, and they have their own +folklore, their own household habits, particular dainties, and way of +life. The tenant farmers, the millers, the innkeepers, and every Hodge +within 'the uplands' (not by any means all hills)--in short, every one is +a citizen of Fleeceborough. Hodge may tend his flock on distant pastures, +may fodder his cattle in far-away meadows, and dwell in little hamlets +hardly heard of, but all the same he is a Fleeceborough man. It is his +centre; thither he looks for everything. + +The place is a little market town, the total of whose population in the +census records sounds absurdly small; yet it is a complete world in +itself; a capital city, with its kingdom and its ruler, for the territory +is practically the property of a single family. Enter Fleeceborough by +whichever route you will, the first object that fixes the attention is an +immensely high and endless wall. If you come by carriage one way, you +skirt it for a long distance; if you come the other, you see it as you +pass through the narrow streets every now and then at the end of them, +closing the prospect and overtopping the lesser houses. By railway it is +conspicuous from the windows; and if you walk about the place, you +continually come upon it. It towers up perpendicular and inaccessible, +like the curtain wall of an old fortification: here and there the upper +branches of some great cedar or tall pine just show above it. One or more +streets for a space run conterminous with it--the wall on one side, the +low cottage-houses on the other, and their chimneys are below the coping. +It does not really encircle the town, yet it seems everywhere, and is the +great fact of the place. + +If you wander about examining this wall, and wondering where it begins and +where it ends, and what is inside, you may perchance come upon a gateway +of noble proportions. It is open, but one hesitates to pass through, +despite the pleasant vista of trees and green sward beyond. There is a +watchman's wooden hut, and the aged sentinel is reading his newspaper in +the shadow, his breast decorated with medal and clasp, that tell of +honourable service. A scarlet-coated soldier may, too, be strolling +thereabout, and the castellated top of a barrack-like building near at +hand is suggestive of military force. You hesitate, but the warden invites +you to walk at your leisure under the old trees, and along the endless +glades. If you enter, you pass under the metal scrollwork of the iron +gates, and, above, the gilded circle of a coronet glistens in the +sunshine. These are the private demesnes of a prince and ruler of +Hodge--the very highest and most powerful of his masters in that part of +the country. The vast wall encloses his pleasure-grounds and mansion; the +broad iron gates give access to mile after mile of park and wood, and the +decorated warden or pensioner has but to open them for the free entry of +all Fleeceborough and her citizens. Of course the position of the barrack +is a mere accident, yet it gives an air of power and authority--the place +is really as open, the beautiful park as common and accessible as the +hill-top under the sky. A peer only at Westminster, here he is a prince, +whose dominions are almost co-extensive with the horizon; and this, the +capital city, is for the most part his. + +Far away stretches that little kingdom, with its minor towns of villages, +hamlets, and farms. Broad green meadows, where the cattle graze beside the +streams and in the plains; rolling uplands, ploughed and sown, where the +barley nourishes; deep rich wheatlands; high hills and shadowy woods; grey +church towers; new glaring schools; quiet wayside inns, and ancient +farmhouses tenanted for generations by the same families. + +Farmers have long since discovered that it is best to rent under a very +large owner, whether personal as in this case, or impersonal as a college +or corporation. A very large owner like this can be, and is, more liberal. +He puts up sheds, and he drains, and improves, and builds good cottages +for the labourers. Provided, of course, that no serious malpractice comes +to light, he, as represented by his steward, never interferes, and the +tenant is personally free. No one watches his goings out and comings in; +he has no sense of an eye for ever looking over the park wall. There is a +total absence of the grasping spirit sometimes shown. The farmer does not +feel that he will be worried to his last shilling. In case of unfavourable +seasons the landlord makes no difficulty in returning a portion of the +rent; he anticipates such an application. Such immense possessions can +support losses which would press most heavily upon comparatively small +properties. At one side of the estate the soil perchance is light and +porous, and is all the better for rain; on the other, half across the +county, or quite, the soil is deep and heavy and naturally well watered +and flourishes in dry summers. So that there is generally some one +prospering if another suffers, and thus a balance is maintained. + +A reserve of wealth has, too, slowly accumulated in the family coffers, +which, in exceptional years, tides the owner over with little or no +appreciable inconvenience. With an income like this, special allowances, +even generous allowances, can be and are made, and so the tenants cease to +feel that their landlord is living out of their labour. The agreements are +just; there is no rapacity. Very likely the original lease or arrangement +has expired half a century since; but no one troubles to renew it. It is +well understood that no change will be effected. The tenure is as steady +as if the tenant had an Act of Parliament at his back. + +When men have once settled, they and their descendants remain, generation +after generation. By degrees their sons and sons' descendants settle too, +and the same name occurs perhaps in a dozen adjacent places. It is this +fixed unchangeable character of the district which has enabled the mass of +the tenants not indeed to become wealthy, but to acquire a solid, +substantial standing. In farming affairs money can be got together only in +the slow passage of years; experience has proved that beyond a doubt. +These people have been stationary for a length of time, and the moss of +the proverb has grown around them. They walk sturdily, and look all men in +the face; their fathers put money in the purse. Times are hard here as +everywhere, but if they cannot, for the present season, put more in that +purse, its contents are not, at all events, much diminished, and enable +them to maintain the same straightforward manliness and independence. +By-and-by, they know there will come the chink of the coin again. + +When the tenant is stationary, the labourer is also. He stays in the same +cottage on the same farm all his life, his descendants remain and work for +the same tenant family. He can trace his descent in the locality for a +hundred years. From time immemorial both Hodge and his immediate employers +have looked towards Fleeceborough as their capital. Hodge goes in to the +market in charge of his master's sheep, his wife trudges in for household +necessaries. All the hamlet goes in to the annual fairs. Every cottager in +the hamlet knows somebody in the town; the girls go there to service, the +boys to get employment. The little village shops obtain their goods from +thence. All the produce--wheat, barley, oats, hay, cattle, and sheep--is +sent into the capital to the various markets held there. The very ideas +held in the villages by the inhabitants come from Fleeceborough; the local +papers published there are sold all round, and supply them with news, +arguments, and the politics of the little kingdom. The farmers look to +Fleeceborough just as much or more. It is a religious duty to be seen +there on market days. Not a man misses being there; if he is not visible, +his circle note it, and guess at various explanations. + +Each man has his own particular hostelry, where his father, and his +grandfather, put up before him, and where he is expected to dine in the +same old room, with the pictures of famous rams, that have fetched +fabulous prices, framed against the walls, and ram's horns of exceptional +size and peculiar curve fixed up above the mantelpiece. Men come in in +groups of two or three, as dinner time approaches, and chat about sheep +and wool, and wool and sheep; but no one finally settles himself at the +table till the chairman arrives. He is a stout, substantial farmer, who +has dined there every market day for the last thirty or forty years. + +Everybody has his own particular seat, which he is certain to find kept +for him. The dinner itself is simple enough, the waiters perhaps still +more simple, but the quality of the viands is beyond praise. The mutton is +juicy and delicious, as it should be where the sheep is the very idol of +all men's thoughts; the beef is short and tender of grain; the vegetables, +nothing can equal them, and they are all here, asparagus and all, in +profusion. The landlord grows his own vegetables--every householder in +Fleeceborough has an ample garden--and produces the fruit from his own +orchards for the tarts. Ever and anon a waiter walks round with a can of +ale and fills the glasses, whether asked or not. Beef and mutton, +vegetables and fruit tarts, and ale are simple and plain fare, but when +they are served in the best form, how will you surpass them? The real +English cheese, the fresh salads, the exquisite butter--everything on the +table is genuine, juicy, succulent, and rich. Could such a dinner be found +in London, how the folk would crowd thither! Finally, comes the waiter +with his two clean plates, the upper one to receive the money, the lower +to retain what is his. If you are a stranger, and remember what you have +been charged elsewhere in smoky cities for tough beef, stringy mutton, +waxy potatoes, and the very bread black with smuts, you select half a +sovereign and drop it on the upper plate. In the twinkling of an eye eight +shillings are returned to you; the charge is a florin only. + +They live well in Fleeceborough, as every fresh experience of the place +will prove; they have plentiful food, and of the best quality; poultry +abounds, for every resident having a great garden (many, too, have +paddocks) keeps fowls; fresh eggs are common; as for vegetables and fruit, +the abundance is not to be described. A veritable cornucopia--a horn of +plenty--seems to forever pour a shower of these good things into their +houses. And their ale! To the first sight it is not tempting. It is thick, +dark, a deep wine colour; a slight aroma rises from it like that which +dwells in bonded warehouses. The first taste is not pleasing; but it +induces a second, and a third. By-and-by the flavour grows upon the +palate; and now beware, for if a small quantity be thrown upon the fire it +will blaze up with a blue flame like pure alcohol. That dark +vinous-looking ale is full of the strength of malt and hops; it is the +brandy of the barley. The unwary find their heads curiously queer before +they have partaken, as it seems to them, of a couple of glasses. The very +spirit and character of Fleeceborough is embodied in the ale; rich, +strong, genuine. No one knows what English ale is till he has tried this. + +After the market dinner the guests sit still--they do not hurry away to +counter and desk; they rest awhile, and dwell as it were on the flavour of +their food. There is a hum of pleasant talk, for each man is a right boon +companion. The burden of that talk has been the same for generations--sheep +and wool, wool and sheep. Occasionally mysterious allusions are made to +'he,' what 'he' will do with a certain farm, whether 'he' will support +such and such a movement, or subscribe to some particular fund, what view +will 'he' take of the local question of the day? Perhaps some one has had +special information of the step 'he' is likely to take; then that favoured +man is an object of the deepest interest, and is cross-questioned all +round the table till his small item of authentic intelligence has been +thoroughly assimilated. 'He' is the resident within those vast and endless +walls, with the metal gates and the gilded coronet above--the prince of +this kingdom and its capital city. To rightly see the subjects loyally +hastening hither, let any one ascend the church tower on market day. + +It is remarkably high, and from thence the various roads converging on the +town are visible. The province lies stretched out beneath. There is the +gleam of water--the little river, with its ancient mills--that flows +beside the town; there are the meadows, with their pleasant footpaths. +Yonder the ploughed fields and woods, and yet more distant the open hills. +Along every road, and there are many, the folk are hastening to their +capital city, in gigs, on horseback, in dog-traps and four-wheels, or +sturdily trudging afoot. The breeze comes sweet and exhilarating from the +hills and over the broad acres and green woods; it strikes the chest as +you lean against the parapet, and the jackdaws suspend themselves in +mid-air with outstretched wings upheld by its force. For how many years, +how many centuries, has this little town and this district around it been +distinct and separate? In the days before the arrival of the Roman legions +it was the country of a distinct tribe, or nation, of the original +Britons. But if we speak of history we shall never have done, for the town +and its antique abbey (of which this tower is a mere remnant) have mingled +more or less in every change that has occurred, down from the earthwork +camp yonder on the hills to to-day--down to the last puff of the +locomotive there below, as its driver shuts off steam and runs in with +passengers and dealers for the market, with the papers, and the latest +novel from London. + +Something of the old local patriotism survives, and is vigorous in the +town here. Men marry in the place, find their children employment in the +place, and will not move, if they can help it. Their families--well-to-do +and humble alike--have been there for so many, many years. The very +carter, or the little tailor working in his shop-window, will tell you +(and prove to you by records) that his ancestor stood to the barricade +with pike or matchlock when the army of King or Parliament, as the case +may be, besieged the sturdy town two hundred years ago. He has a longer +pedigree than many a titled dweller in Belgravia. All these people believe +in Fleeceborough. When fate forces them to quit--when the young man seeks +his fortune in New Zealand or America--he writes home the fullest +information, and his letters published in the local print read curiously +to an outsider, so full are they of local inquiries, and answers to +friends who wished to know this or that. In the end he comes back--should +he succeed in getting the gold which tempted him away--to pass his latter +days gossiping round with the dear old folk, and to marry amongst them. +Yet, with all their deep local patriotism, they are not bigoted or +narrow-minded; there is too much literature abroad for that, and they have +the cosiest reading-room wherein to learn all that passes in the world. +They have a town council held now and then in an ancient wainscoted hall, +with painted panels and coats of arms, carved oaken seats black with age, +and narrow windows from which men once looked down into the street, +wearing trunk hose and rapier. + +But they have at least two other councils that meet much more often, and +that meet by night. When his books are balanced, when his shop is shut, +after he has strolled round his garden, and taken his supper, the +tradesman or shopkeeper walks down to his inn, and there finds his circle +assembled. They are all there, the rich and the moderately well-to-do, the +struggling, and the poor. Each delivers his opinion over the social glass, +or between the deliberate puffs of his cigar or pipe. The drinking is +extremely moderate, the smoking not quite so temperate; but neither the +glass nor the cigar are the real attractions. It is the common hall--the +informal place of meeting. + +It is here that, the real government of the town is planned--the mere +formal resolutions voted in the ancient council-room are the outcome of +the open talk, and the quiet whisper here. No matter what subject is to +the front, the question is always heard--What will 'he' do? What will 'he' +say to it? The Volunteers compete for prizes which 'he' offers. The +cottage hospital; the flower show; the cattle show, or agricultural +exhibition; the new market buildings arose through his subscriptions and +influence; the artesian well, sunk that the town might have the best of +water, was bored at his expense; and so on through the whole list of town +affairs. When 'he' takes the lead all the lesser gentry--many of whom, +perhaps, live in his manor houses--follow suit, and with such powerful +support to back it a movement is sure to succeed, yet 'he' is rarely seen; +his hand rarely felt; everything is done, but without obtrusiveness. At +these nightly councils at the chief hostelries the farmers of the district +are almost as numerous as the townsmen. They ride in to hear the news and +exchange their own small coin of gossip. They want to know what 'he' is +going to do, and little by little of course it leaks out. + +But the town is not all so loyal. There is a section which is all the more +vehemently rebellious because of the spectacle of its staid and +comfortable neighbours. This section is very small, but makes a +considerable noise. It holds meetings and utters treasonable speeches, and +denounces the 'despot' in fiery language. It protests against a free and +open park; it abhors artesian wells; it detests the throwing open of nut +woods that all may go forth a-nutting; it waxes righteously indignant at +every gift, be it prizes for the flower show or a new market site. It +scorns those mean-spirited citizens that cheer these kindly deeds. It asks +why? Why should we wait till the park gates are open? Why stay till the +nut woods are declared ready? Why be thankful for pure water? Why not take +our own? This one man has no right to these parks and woods and pleasure +grounds and vast walls; these square miles of ploughed fields, meadows and +hills. By right they should all be split up into little plots to grow our +potatoes. Away with gilded coronet and watchman, batter down these walls, +burn the ancient deeds and archives, put pick and lever to the tall church +tower; let us have the rights of man! These violent ebullitions make not +the least different. All the insults they can devise, all the petty +obstructions they can set up, the mud they can fling, does not alter the +calm course of the 'despot' one jot. The artesian well is bored, and they +can drink pure water or not, as pleases them. The prizes are offered, and +they can compete or stand aloof. Fleeceborough smiles when it meets at +night in its council-rooms, with its glass and pipe; Fleeceborough knows +that the traditional policy of the Hall will continue, and that policy is +acceptable to it. + +What manner of man is this 'despot' and prince behind his vast walls? +Verily his physique matters nothing; whether he be old or of middle age, +tall or short, infirm or strong. The policy of the house keeps the actual +head and owner rather in the background. His presence is never obtruded; +he is rarely seen; you may stay in his capital for months and never catch +a glimpse of him. He will not appear at meetings, that every man may be +free, nor hesitate to say his say, and abuse what he lists to abuse. The +policy is simply perfect freedom, with support and substantial assistance +to any and to every movement set on foot by the respectable men of +Fleeceborough, or by the tenant farmers round about. This has been going +on for generations; so that the personnel of the actual owner concerns +little. His predecessors did it, he does it, and the next to come will do +it. It is the tradition of the house. Nothing is left undone that a true +princely spirit could do to improve, to beautify, or to preserve. + +The antiquities of the old, old town are kept for it, and not permitted to +decay; the ancient tesselated pavements of Roman villas carefully +protected from the weather; the remnants of the enclosing walls which the +legions built for their defence saved from destruction; the coins of the +emperors and of our own early kings collected; the spurs, swords, +spearheads, all the fragments of past ages arranged for inspection and +study by every one who desires to ponder over them. Chipped flints and +arrowheads, the bones of animals long extinct, and the strange evidences +of yet more ancient creatures that swam in the seas of the prehistoric +world, these too are preserved at his cost and expense. Archaeologists, +geologists, and other men of science come from afar to see these things +and to carry away their lessons. The memories of the place are cherished. +There was a famous poet who sang in the woods about the park; his +hermitage remains, and nothing is lost that was his. Art-treasures there +are, too, heirlooms to be seen behind those vast walls by any who will be +at the trouble of asking. + +Such is the policy of Hodge's own prince, whose silent influence is felt +in every household for miles about, and felt, as all must admit, however +prejudiced against the system, in this case for good. His influence +reaches far beyond the bounds even of that immense property. The example +communicates itself to others, and half the county responds to that +pleasant impulse. It is a responsible position to hold; something, +perhaps, a little like that of the Medici at Florence in the olden times. +But here there is no gonfalon, no golden chain of office, no velvet +doublet, cloak, and rapier, no guards with arquebuss or polished crossbow. +An entire absence of state and ceremony marks this almost unseen but +powerful sway. The cycle of the seasons brings round times of trial here +as over the entire world, but the conditions under which the trial is +sustained could scarcely in our day, and under our complicated social and +political system, be much more favourable. + + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + + +THE SQUIRE'S 'ROUND ROBIN + + +A cock pheasant flies in frantic haste across the road, beating the air +with wide-stretched wings, and fast as he goes, puts on yet a faster spurt +as the shot comes rattling up through the boughs of the oak beneath him. +The ground is, however, unfavourable to the sportsman, and the bird +escapes. The fir copse from which the pheasant rose covers a rather sharp +descent on one side of the highway. On the level above are the ploughed +fields, but the slope itself is too abrupt for agricultural operations, +and the soil perhaps thin and worthless. It is therefore occupied by a +small plantation. On the opposite side of the road there grows a fine row +of oaks in a hedge, under whose shade the dust takes long to dry when once +damped by a shower. The sportsman who fired stands in the road; the +beaters are above, for they desire the game to fly in a certain direction; +and what with the narrow space between the firs and the oaks, the +spreading boughs, and the uncertainty of the spot where the pheasant would +break cover, it is not surprising that he missed. + +The shot, after tearing through the boughs, rises to some height in the +air, and, making a curve, falls of its own weight only, like pattering +hail--and as harmless--upon an aged woman, just then trudging slowly +round the corner. She is a cottager, and has been to fetch the weekly dole +of parish bread that helps to support herself and infirm husband. She +wears a long cloak that nearly sweeps the ground on account of her +much-bowed back, and carries a flag basket full of bread in one hand, and +a bulging umbrella, which answers as a walking stick, in the other. The +poor old body, much startled, but not in the least injured, scuttles back +round the corner, exclaiming, 'Lor! it be Filbard a-shooting: spose a'had +better bide a bit till he ha' done.' She has not long to wait. The young +gentleman standing in the road gets a shot at another cock; this time the +bird flies askew, instead of straight across, and so gives him a better +opportunity. The pheasant falls crash among the nettles and brambles +beside the road. Then a second and older gentleman emerges from the +plantation, and after a time a keeper, who picks up the game. + +The party then proceed along the road, and coming round the corner the +great black retriever runs up to the old woman with the most friendly +intentions, but to her intense confusion, for she is just in the act of +dropping a lowly curtsey when the dog rubs against her. The young +gentleman smiles at her alarm and calls the dog; the elder walks on +utterly indifferent. A little way up the road the party get over the gate +into the meadows on that side, and make for another outlying plantation. +Then, and not till then, does the old woman set out again, upon her slow +and laborious journey. 'Filbard be just like a gatepost,' she mutters; 'a' +don't take no notice of anybody.' Though she had dropped the squire so +lowly a curtsey, and in his presence would have behaved with profound +respect, behind his back and out of hearing she called him by his family +name without any prefix. The cottagers thereabout almost always did this +in speaking among themselves of their local magnate. They rarely said +'Mr.'; it was generally 'Filbard,' or, even more familiarly, 'Jim +Filbard.' Extremes meet. They hardly dared open their mouths when they saw +him, and yet spoke of him afterwards as if he sat with them at bacon and +cabbage time. + +Squire Filbard and one of his sons were walking round the outlying copses +that October day with the object of driving the pheasants in towards the +great Filbard wood, rather than of making a bag. The birds were inclined +to wander about, and the squire thought a little judicious shooting round +the outskirts would do good, and at the same time give his son some sport +without disturbing the head of game he kept up in the wood itself. The +squire was large made, tall, and well proportioned, and with a bearded, +manly countenance. His neck was, perhaps, a little thick and +apoplectic-looking, but burnt to a healthy brick-dust colour by exposure +to the sun. The passing years had drawn some crows'-feet round the eyes, +but his step was firm, his back straight, and he walked his ancestral +acres every inch the master. The defect of his features was the thinness +of the lips, and a want of character in a nose which did not accord with a +good forehead. His hands, too, were very large and puffy; his finger-nails +(scrupulously clean) were correspondingly large, and cut to a sharp point, +that seemed to project beyond the tip of the finger, and gave it a +scratchy appearance. + +The chimneys of Filbard Hall showed for some distance above the trees of +the park, for the house stood on high ground. It was of red brick, +somewhat square in style, and had little of the true Elizabethan +character--it was doubtless later in date, though not modern. The +chimneys, however, had a pleasing appearance over the trees; they were in +stacks, and rather larger, or broader apparently at the top than where +they rose from the roof. Such chimneys are not often seen on recent +buildings. A chimney seems a simple matter, and yet the aspect of a house +from a distance much depends upon its outline. The mansion was of large +size, and stood in an extensive park, through which carriage drives swept +up to the front from different lodge gates. Each of the drives passed +under avenues of trees--the park seemed to stretch on either hand without +enclosure or boundary--and the approach was not without a certain +stateliness. Within the apartments were commodious, and from several there +were really beautiful views. Some ancient furniture, handed down +generation after generation, gave a character to the rooms; the oak +staircase was much admired, and so was the wainscoating of one part. + +The usual family portraits hung on the walls, but the present squire had +rather pushed them aside in favour of his own peculiar hobby. He collected +antique Italian pictures--many on panels--in the pre-Raphaelite style. +Some of these he had picked up in London, others he had found and +purchased on the Continent. There were saints with glories or _nimbi_ +round their heads, Madonnas and kneeling Magi, the manger under a kind of +penthouse, and similar subjects--subjects the highest that could be +chosen. The gilding of the _nimbi_ seemed well done certainly, and was +still bright, but to the ordinary eye the stiffness of the figures, the +lack of grace, the absence of soul in the composition was distressingly +apparent. It was, however, the squire's hobby, and it must be admitted +that he had very high authority upon his side. Some sensitive persons +rather shrank from seeing him handle these painted panels with those +peculiar scratchy finger-nails; it set their teeth on edge. He gave +considerable sums of money for many of these paintings, the only +liberality he permitted himself, or was capable of. + +His own room or study was almost bare, and the solitary window looked on a +paved passage that led to the stables. There was nothing in it but a large +table, a bookcase, and two or three of the commonest horsehair chairs; the +carpet was worn bare. He had selected this room because there was a door +close by opening on the paved passage. Thus the bailiff of the Home Farm, +the steward, the gamekeeper, the policeman, or any one who wished to see +him on business, could come to the side door from the back and be shown in +to him without passing through the mansion. This certainly was a +convenient arrangement; yet one would have thought that he would have had +a second and more private study in which to follow his own natural bent of +mind. But the squire received the gardener and gave him directions about +the cucumbers--for he descended even to such minutiae as that--sitting at +the same table on which he had just written to an Italian art collector +respecting a picture, or to some great friend begging him to come and +inspect a fresh acquisition. The bookcase contained a few law books, a +manual for the direction of justices--the squire was on the commission--a +copy of Burke, and in one corner of a shelf a few musty papers referring +to family history. These were of some value, and the squire was proud of +showing them to those who took an interest in archaeology; yet he kept +them much as if they had been receipts for the footman's livery, or a +dozen bottles of stable medicine. He wrote with a quill pen, and as it +went up and down it scratched the paper as if it had been those sharp +projecting finger-nails. + +In this study he spent many hours when at home--he rose late, and after +breakfast repaired hither. The steward was usually in attendance. He was a +commonplace man, but little above the description of a labourer. He +received wages not much superior to those a labourer takes in summer time, +but as he lived at the Home Farm (which was in hand) there were of course +some perquisites. A slow, quiet man, of little or no education, he +pottered about and looked after things in general. One morning perhaps he +would come in to talk with the squire about the ash wood they were going +to cut in the ensuing winter, or about the oak bark which had not been +paid for. Or it might be the Alderney cow or the poultry at the Home Farm, +or a few fresh tiles on the roof of the pig-sty, which was decaying. A +cart wanted a new pair of wheels or a shaft. One of the tenants wanted a +new shed put up, but it did not seem necessary; the old one would do very +well if people were not so fidgety. The wife or daughter of one of the +cottage people was taking to drink and getting into bad ways. This or that +farmer had had some sheep die. Another farmer had bought some new +silver-mounted harness, and so on, through all the village gossip. + +Often it was the gamekeeper instead of the steward who came in or was sent +for. The squire kept a large head of pheasants for certain reasons, but he +was not over-anxious to pay for them. The keeper grumbled about his wages, +that he had no perquisites, and that the shooting season never brought him +any fees--unless the squire let the place; he only wished he let it every +year. This, of course, was said aside; to the squire he was hat in hand. +He had to produce his vouchers for food for the pheasants and dogs, and to +give particulars why a certain gate on the plantation wanted renewing. The +steward had seen it, and thought it might be repaired; why did the keeper +think it ought to be renewed altogether? And was there not plenty of larch +timber lying about, that had been thrown and not sold, that would make a +very good spar-gate, without purchasing one? Why couldn't old Hooker, the +hedge carpenter, knock it up cheap? + +Next came the coachman--the squire did not keep up anything of a stud, +just enough to work the carriage, and some ordinary riding horses and a +pony for the children. The coachman had to explain why a new lock was +wanted on the stable door; why the blacksmith's bill was so much for +shoes; after which there was a long gossip about the horses of a gentleman +who had come down and rented a place for the season. The gardener +sometimes had an interview about the quantity of apples that might be sold +from the orchard, and twenty other peddling details, in which the squire +delighted. As for the butler, time at last had brought him to bear with +patience the inquisition about the waste corks and the empty bottles. + +The squire would have had the cook in and discussed the stock-pot with her +for a full hour, but the cook set up her back. She wouldn't, no, that she +wouldn't; and the squire found that the cook was mistress of the +situation. She was the only personage who did not pass him with deference. +She tossed her head, and told her fellow-servants audibly that he was a +poor, mean-spirited man; and as for missis, she was a regular +Tartar--there! In this they thoroughly agreed. The coachman and footman, +when out with the carriage, and chancing to get a talk with other coachmen +and footmen, were full of it. He was the meanest master they had ever +known; yet they could not say that he paid less wages, or that they were +ill-fed--it was this meddling, peddling interference they resented. The +groom, when he rode into town for the letter-bag, always stopped to tell +Ills friends some fresh instance of it. All the shopkeepers and tradesmen, +and everybody else, had heard of it. But they were none the less +obsequious when the squire passed up the street. The servants were never +so glad as when young master came home with the liberal views imbibed in +modern centres of learning, and with a free, frank mode of speech. But +miss, the sole daughter, they simply hated; she seemed to have ten times +the meanness of her papa, and had been a tell-tale from childhood. The +kitchen said she saved her curl papers to sell as waste paper. + +The 'missis' was as haughty, as unapproachable, and disdainful as the +master was inquisitive; she never spoke to, looked at, nor acknowledged +any one--except the three largest tenants and their wives. To these, who +paid heavily, she was gracious. She dressed in the very extreme and front +of fashion--the squire himself quite plainly, without the least pretence +of dandyism. Hateful as the village folk thought her _hauteur_ and open +contempt for them, they said she was more the lady than the squire was the +gentleman. + +The squire's time, when at home, like everything else, was peddled away. +He rode into market one day of the week; he went to church on Sundays with +unfailing regularity, and he generally attended the petty sessional bench +on a third day. Upon the bench, from the long standing of his family, he +occupied a prominent position. His mind invariably seized the minutiae of +the evidence, and never seemed to see the point or the broad bearings of +the case. He would utterly confuse a truthful witness, for instance, who +chanced to say that he met the defendant in the road. 'But you said just +now that you and he were both going the same way; how, then, could you +meet him?' the squire would ask, frowning sternly. Whether the witness +overtook or met the defendant mattered nothing to the point at issue; but +the squire, having got a satisfactory explanation, turned aside, with an +aggravating air of cleverness. For the rest of the week the squire could +not account for his time. He sometimes, indeed, in the hunting season, +rode to the meet; but he rarely followed. He had none of the enthusiasm +that makes a hunter; besides, it made the horse in such a heat, and would +work him out too quick for economy. + +He went out shooting, but not in regular trim. He would carry his gun +across to the Home Farm, and knock over a rabbit on the way; then spend +two hours looking at the Alderney cow, the roof of the pig-sty, and the +poultry, and presently stroll across a corner of the wood, and shoot a +pheasant. The head of game was kept up for the purpose of letting the +mansion from time to time when the squire or his lady thought it desirable +to go on the Continent, that the daughter might acquire the graces of +travel. A visit to London in the season, a visit to the seaside, and then +home in the autumn to peddle about the estate, made up the year when they +did not go abroad. There was a broad park, noble trees, a great mansion, a +stately approach; but within it seemed all littleness of spirit. + +The squire's own private study--the morning-room of the owner of this fine +estate--was, as previously observed, next the passage that led to the +stables, and the one window looked out on a blank wall. It was in this +room that he conducted his business and pleasure, and his art researches. +It was here that he received the famous 'Round Robin' from his tenants. +The estate was not very large--something between 3,000 and 4,000 +acres--but much of it was good and fertile, though heavy land, and highly +rented. Had the squire received the whole of his rents for his own private +use he would have been well off as squires go. But there was a flaw or +hitch somewhere in the right, or title, or succession. No one knew the +precise circumstances, because, like so many similar family disputes, when +the lawyers were ready, and the case had come before the tribunal, a +compromise was arrived at, the terms of which were only known to the +tribunal and the parties directly concerned. + +But everybody knew that the squire had to pay heavy pensions to various +members of another branch of the family; and it was imagined that he did +not feel quite fixed in the tenure--that possibly the case might, under +certain circumstances, be heard of again--since it was noticed that he did +not plant trees, or make improvements, or in any way proceed to increase +the permanent attractions of the estate. It seemed as if he felt he was +only lodging there. He appeared to try and get all he could off the +place--without absolute damage--and to invest or spend nothing. After all +these payments had been made the squire's income was much reduced, and +thus, with all these broad acres, these extensive woods, and park, and +mansion, pleasure grounds, game, and so forth, he was really a poor man. +Not poor in the sense of actual want, but a man in his position had, of +course, a certain appearance to keep up. Horses, carriages--even +cooks--are not to be had for nothing, and are absolutely essential to +those who are compelled to maintain any kind of dignity. Sons with liberal +ideas are expensive; a daughter is expensive; a wife who insists on +dressing in the fashion is expensive. + +Now, taking all those things into consideration, and remembering, too, +that the squire as a good father (which he was admittedly) wished to make +provision for the future of his children, it may perhaps, after all, be +questioned whether he really was so mean and little of spirit as appeared. +Under the circumstances, if he wished to save, the only way open to him +was to be careful in little things. Even his hobby--the pre-Raphaelite +pictures--was not without its advantage in this sense; the collection was +certainly worth more than he gave for it, for he got it all by careful +bargaining, and it could be sold again at a profit. The careful +superintendence of the Alderney cow, the cucumber frames, and the rabbits, +might all be carried out for the very best of objects, the good of his +children. + +Now, the squire was, of course, very well aware of the troubles of +agriculture, the wetness of the seasons--which played havoc with the +game--the low prices, and the loud talk that was going on around him. But +he made no sign. He might have been deaf, dumb, and blind. He walked by +the wheat, but did not see the deficiency of the crop, nor the +extraordinary growth of weeds. There were voices in the air like the +mutterings of a coming storm, but he did not hear them. There were +paragraphs in the papers--how So-and-So had liberally reduced the rents or +returned a percentage; but he did not read them, or did not understand. +Rent days came and went, and no sign was made. His solicitor received the +rents, but nothing could be got out of him by the farmers. The little +farmers hardly liked to take the lead: some of them did not dare. The +three largest farmers looked at each other and wondered which would speak +first. They were awkwardly situated. The squire's wife acknowledged their +wives and daughters, and once now and then deigned to invite them to the +mansion. The squire himself presented them with specimens of a valuable +breed of poultry he was bringing up at the Home Farm. It was difficult to +begin unpleasant business. + +Meantime the solicitor gathered up the cheques, wished them good afternoon +and departed. Another rent day came round, and still no sign. The squire's +policy was, in fact, to ignore. He ignored the depression altogether--could +not see that it existed in that county at all. Recollect, it was the only +policy open to him. Whether the rents paid to him were large or small, his +expenses would be the same. There were the members of the other branch of +the family to be paid in full. There were the carriages, the servants, the +gamekeepers, and so on. He could reduce nothing; no wonder that he was +slow to acknowledge that he must be himself reduced. The fatal day--so +long dreaded--came at last. + +A large letter lay on the table in the study one morning, along with the +other letters. He did not recognise the handwriting, and naturally opened +it first. It was a 'Round Robin' from the tenants. All had signed a +memorial, setting forth the depression, and respectfully, even humbly, +asking that their case be taken into consideration, and that a percentage +be returned, or the rent reduced. Their heavy land, they pointed out, had +been peculiarly difficult to work in such seasons. They had suffered +exceptionally, and they trusted he would take no offence. But there was an +unmistakable hint that they were in earnest. All signed it--from the +ungrateful largest tenants, who had had presents of fancy poultry, and +whose wives had been smiled upon, down to the smallest working farmer, who +could hardly be distinguished from his own labourers. + +The squire read the names over twice, pointing to each with his sharp, +scratchy finger-nail. There were other letters from the members of the +other branch of the family whose pensions were just due in full. Suppose +he returned ten per cent. of the rents to the tenants, that would not be +like ten per cent. upon the entire rental, but perhaps twenty-five or +thirty per cent, upon that portion of the rental which actually went into +his own pocket. A man can hardly be expected to cheerfully tender other +people a third of his income. But sprawling and ill-written as many of the +signatures were to the 'Round Robin'--the pen held by heavy hands--yet +they were genuine, and constituted a very substantial fact, that must be +yielded to. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + + +AN AMBITIOUS SQUIRE + + +Perhaps the magistrate most regular in his attendance at a certain country +Petty Sessional Court is young Squire Marthorne. Those who have had +business to transact at such Courts know the difficulty that often arises +from the absence of a second magistrate, there being a numerous class of +cases with which one justice of the peace is not permitted to deal. There +must be two, and it sometimes happens that only one is forthcoming. The +procedure adopted varies much in different divisions, according to the +population and the percentage of charges brought up. Usually a particular +day is appointed when it is understood that a full bench will be present, +but it not unfrequently happens that another and less formal meeting has +to be held, at which the attendance is uncertain. The district in which +Mr. Marthorne resides chances to be somewhat populous, and to include one +or two turbulent places that furnish a steady supply of offenders. The +practice therefore is to hold two Courts a week; at one of these, on the +Saturday, the more important cases are arranged to be heard, when there +are always plenty of magistrates. At the other, on the Tuesday, remands +and smaller matters are taken, and there then used to be some delay. + +One justice thought his neighbour would go, another thought the same of +his neighbour, and the result was nobody went. Having tacitly bound +themselves to attend once a week, the justices, many of whom resided miles +away, did not care formally to pledge themselves to be invariably present +on a second day. Sometimes the business on that second day was next to +nothing, but occasionally serious affairs turned up, when messengers had +to be despatched to gather a quorum. + +But latterly this uncertainty has been put an end to through the regular +attendance of young Squire Marthorne, of Marthorne House. The Marthornes +are an old family, and one of the best connected in the county, though by +no means rich, and, whether it was the lack of great wealth or a want of +energy, they had until recently rather dropped out of the governing +circle. When, however, the young squire, soon after his accession to the +property, in the natural course of events, was nominated to the Commission +of the Peace, he began to exhibit qualities calculated to bring him to the +front. He developed an aptitude for business, and at the same time showed +a personal tact and judgment which seemed to promise a future very +different from the previous stagnation of his family. + +These qualities came first into play at the Petty Sessions, which, apart +from the criminal business, is practically an informal weekly Parliament +of local landowners. Marthorne, of course, was well known to the rest long +before his appearance among them as a colleague. He had gained some +reputation at college; but that had long since been forgotten in the +prestige he had attained as a brilliant foxhunter. Even in the days before +his accession, when his finances were notoriously low, he had somehow +contrived to ride a first-rate horse. Everybody likes a man who rides a +good horse. At the same time there was nothing horsey about him; he was +always the gentleman. Since his succession the young squire, as he was +familiarly described--most of the others being elderly---had selected his +horses with such skill that it was well known a very great man had noticed +them, so that when he came to the Bench, young as he was, Marthorne +escaped the unpleasant process of finding his level--_i.e._ being +thoroughly put down. + +If not received quite as an equal by that assemblage of elderly gentlemen, +he was made to feel that at all events they would listen to what he had to +say. That is a very great point gained. Marthorne used his advantage with +judgment. He displayed a modesty highly commendable in a young man. He +listened, and only spoke for the purpose of acquiring information. Nothing +is so pleasing as to find a man of intelligence willingly constituting +himself your pupil. They were all anxious to teach him the business of the +county, and the more he endeavoured to learn from them the cleverer they +thought him. + +Now, the business of the county was not very intricate; the details were +innumerable, but the general drift was easy to acquire. Much more +complicated to see through were all the little personal likings, +dislikings, petty spites, foibles, hobbies, secret understandings, family +jars, and so forth, which really decide a man's vote, or the scale into +which he throws his influence. There were scores of squires dotted over +the county, each of whom possessed local power more or less considerable, +and each of whom might perchance have private relations with men who held +high office in the State. Every family had its history and its archives +containing records of negotiations with other families. People who met +with all outward friendliness, and belonged to the same party, might have +grudges half a century old, but not yet forgotten. If you made friends +with one, you might mortally offend the other. The other would say +nothing, but another day a whisper to some great authority might destroy +the hopes of the aspirant. Those who would attain to power must study the +inner social life, and learn the secret motives that animate men. But to +get at the secret behind the speech, the private thought behind the vote, +would occupy one for years. + +Marthorne, of course, having been born and bred in the circle, knew the +main facts; but, when he came to really set himself to work, he quickly +felt that he was ignorant, and that at any moment he might irritate some +one's hidden prejudice. He looked round for an older man who knew all +about it, and could inform him. This man he found in the person of the +Vice-Chairman of the Petty Sessions. The nominal Chairman, like many other +unpaid officials, held the place because of old family greatness, not from +any personal ability--family greatness which was in reality a mere +tradition. The Vice-Chairman was the true centre and spirit of the circle. + +A man of vast aptitude for details, he liked county business for its own +sake, and understood every technicality. With little or no personal +ambition, he had assisted in every political and social movement in the +county for half a century, and knew the secret motives of every individual +landowner. With large wealth, nothing to do, and childless, he took a +liking to young Marthorne. The old man wished for nothing better than to +talk; the young squire listened attentively. The old man was delighted to +find some one who would sit with him through the long hours of Petty +Sessional business. Thus it was that the people who had to attend the +Local Board, whether it was a Saturday, the principal day, or whether it +was a Tuesday, that had previously been so trying, found their business +facilitated by the attendance of two magistrates. The Vice-Chairman was +always there, and Mr. Marthorne was always there. It sometimes happened +that while Hodge the lately intoxicated, or Hodge the recent pugilist, was +stolidly waiting for his sentence, the two justices in the retiring room +were convulsed with laughter; the one recounting, the other imbibing, some +curious racy anecdote concerning the family history of a local magnate. + +Meantime, the young squire was steadily gaining a reputation for solid +qualities, for work and application. Not only at the Bench, but at the +Board of Guardians and at other Boards where the justice of the peace is +_ex officio_ a member, he steadily worked at details, sat patiently upon +committees, audited endless accounts, read interminable reports, and was +never weary of work. The farmers began to talk about him, and to remark to +each other what a wonderful talent for business he possessed, and what a +pleasant-speaking young gentleman he was. The applause was well earned, +for probably there is no duller or more monotonous work than that of +attending Boards which never declare dividends. He next appeared at the +farmers' club, at first as a mere spectator, and next, though with evident +diffidence, as a speaker. + +Marthorne was no orator; he felt when he stood up to speak an odd +sensation in the throat, as if the glottis had contracted. He was, in +fact, very nervous, and for the first two or three sentences had not the +least idea what he had said. But he forced himself to say it--his will +overruled his physical weakness. When said it was not much--only a few +safe platitudes--but it was a distinct advance. He felt that next time he +should do better, and that his tongue would obey his mind. His remarks +appeared in the local print, and he had started as a speaker. He was +resolved to be a speaker, for it is evident to all that, without frequent +public speech, no one can now be a representative man. Marthorne, after +this, never lost an opportunity of speaking--if merely to second a +resolution, to propose a toast, he made the most of it. One rule he laid +down for himself, namely, never to say anything original. He was not +speaking to propound a new theory, a new creed, or view of life. His aim +was to become the mouthpiece of his party. Most probably the thought that +seemed to him so clever might, if publicly expressed, offend some +important people. He, therefore, carefully avoided anything original. High +authorities are now never silent; when Parliament closes they still +continue to address the public, and generally upon more or less stirring +questions of the time. + +In those addresses, delivered by the very leaders of his own party, +Marthorne found the material, and caught from their diligent perusal the +spirit in which to use it. In this way, without uttering a single original +idea of his own, and with very little originality of expression, the young +orator succeeded perfectly in his aim. First, he became recognised as a +speaker, and, therefore, extremely useful; secondly, he was recognised as +one of the soundest exponents of politics in the county. Marthorne was not +only clever, but 'safe.' His repute for the latter quality was of even +more service to him than for talent; to be 'safe' in such things is a very +great recommendation. Personal reputation is of slow growth, but it does +grow. The Vice-Chairman, Marthorne's friend and mentor, had connections +with very high people indeed. He mentioned Marthorne to the very high +people. These, in their turn, occasionally cast a glance at what Marthorne +was doing. Now and then they read a speech of his, and thought it +extremely good, solid, and well put. It was understood that a certain M.P. +would retire at the next election; and they asked themselves whom they had +to take his place? + +While this important question was exercising the minds of those in +authority, Marthorne was energetically at work gaining the social +suffrage. The young squire's lady--he had married in his minority for +beauty and intelligence, and not for money--was discovered to be a very +interesting young person. Her beauty and intelligence, and, let it be +added, her true devotion to her husband's cause, proved of fifty times +more value to him than a dowry of many manors. Her tact smoothed the way +everywhere; she made friends for him in all directions, especially perhaps +during the London season. Under the whirl and glitter of that fascinating +time there are latent possibilities of important business. Both Marthorne +and his lady had by birth and connections the _entrée_ into leading +circles; but many who have that _entrée_ never attain to more influence in +society than the furniture of the drawing-room. + +These two never for a moment lost sight of the country while they enjoyed +themselves in town. Everything they said or did was said and done with a +view to conciliate people who might have direct or indirect influence in +the country. In these matters, ladies of position still retain +considerable power in their hands. The young squire and his wife put +themselves to immense trouble to get the good-will of such persons, and +being of engaging manners they in time succeeded. This was not effected at +once, but three or four years are a very short time in which to develop +personal influence, and their success within so brief a period argues +considerable skill. + +At home again in the autumn the same efforts were diligently continued. +The mansion itself was but of moderate size and by no means convenient, +but the squire's lady transformed it from a gaunt, commonplace country +house into an elegant and charming residence. This she contrived without +great expense by the exercise of good taste and a gift of discriminating +between what was and what was not. The exterior she left alone--to alter +an exterior costs a heavy sum and often fails. But the interior she +gradually fitted in a novel fettle, almost entirely after her own design. +The gardens, too, under her supervision, became equally inviting. The +house got talked about, and was itself a social success. + +On his part, the squire paid as much attention to the estate. It was not +large, far from sufficient of itself, indeed, to support any social or +political pretensions without the most rigid economy. And the pair were +rigidly economical. The lady dressed in the height of the fashion, and +drove the most beautiful horses, and yet she never wasted a shilling upon +herself. Her own little private whims and fancies she resolutely refused +to gratify. Every coin was spent where it would produce effect. In like +manner, the squire literally never had half a sovereign in his pocket. He +selected the wines in his cellar with the greatest care, and paid for them +prices which the wine merchant, in these days of cheap wines, was +unaccustomed to receive from men of thrice his income. The squire paid for +the very best wine, and in private drank a cheap claret. But his guests, +many of them elderly gentlemen, when once they had dined with him never +forgot to come again. His bins became known throughout the county; very +influential people indeed spoke of them with affection. It was in this way +that the squire got a high value out of his by no means extensive rents. + +He also looked after the estate personally. Hodge, eating his luncheon +under the hedge in October, as he slowly munched his crust, watched the +squire strolling about the fields, with his gun under his arm, and +wondered why he did not try the turnips. The squire never went into the +turnip field, and seemed quite oblivious that he carried a gun, for when a +covey rose at his feet he did not fire, but simply marked them down. His +mind, in fact, was busy with more important matters, and, fond as he was +of shooting, he wanted the birds for some one else's delectation. After he +had had the place a little while, there was not a square inch of waste +ground to be found. When the tenants were callous to hints, the squire +gave them pretty clearly to understand that he meant his land to be +improved, and improved it was. He himself of his own free motive and +initiative ordered new buildings to be erected where he, by personal +inspection, saw that they would pay. He drained to some extent, but not +very largely, thinking that capital sunk in drains, except in particular +soils, did not return for many years. + +Anxious as he was to keep plenty of game, he killed off the rabbits, and +grubbed up many of the small covers at the corners and sides of arable +fields which the tenants believed injurious to crops. He repaired +labourers' cottages, and added offices to farmsteads. In short, he did +everything that could be done without too heavy an expenditure. To kill +off the rabbits, to grub the smaller coverts, to drain the marshy spots, +to thatch the cottages, put up cattle sheds, and so on, could be effected +without burdening the estate with a loan. But, small as these improvements +were in themselves, yet, taken together, they made an appreciable +difference. + +There was a distinct increase in the revenue of the estate after the first +two years. The increase arose in part from the diminished expenses, for it +has been found that a tumble-down place is more costly to maintain than +one in good repair. The tenants at first were rather alarmed, fearing lest +the change should end in a general rise of rents. It did not. The squire +only asked an increase when he had admittedly raised the value of the +land, and then only to a moderate amount. By degrees he acquired a +reputation as the most just of landlords. His tenantry were not only +satisfied, but proud of him; for they began to foresee what was going to +happen. + +Yet all these things had been done for his own interest--so true is it +that the interest of the landlord and the tenant are identical. The squire +had simply acted judiciously, and from personal inspection. He studied his +estate, and attended to it personally. Of course he could not have done +these things had he not succeeded to a place but little encumbered with +family settlements. He did them from interested motives, and not from mere +sentiment. But, nevertheless, credit of a high order was justly accorded +to him. So young a man might naturally have expended his income on +pleasure. So young a wife might have spent his rents in frivolity. They +worked towards an end, but it was a worthy end--for ambition, if not too +extravagant, is a virtue. Men with votes and influence compared this +squire in their minds with other squires, whose lives seemed spent in a +slumberous donothingness. + +Thus, by degrees, the young squire's mansion and estate added to his +reputation. The labour which all this represented was immense. Both the +squire and his wife worked harder than a merchant in his office. Attending +Boards and farmers' clubs, making speeches, carrying on correspondence, +looking after the estate, discharging social duties, filled up every +moment of his time. Superintending the house, the garden, corresponding, +and a hundred other labours, filled up every moment of hers. They were +never idle; to rise socially and politically requires as great or greater +work than for a poor man to achieve a fortune. + +Ultimately the desired result began to be apparent. There grew up a +general feeling that the squire was the best man for the place in +Parliament which, in the course of events, must ere long be vacant. There +was much heartburning and jealousy secretly felt among men twice his age, +who had waited and hoped for years for such an opening, till at last they +had rusted and become incapable of effort. But, cynical as they might be +in private, they were too wise to go openly against the stream. A few +friendly words spoken in season by a great man whose goodwill had been +gained decided the matter. At an informal meeting of the party--how much +more is effected at informal than at formal assemblies!--Marthorne was +introduced as the successor to the then representative. The young squire's +estate could not, of course, bear the heavy pecuniary strain which must +arise; but before those who had the control of these things finally +selected him they had ascertained that there would be no difficulty with +respect to money. Marthorne's old friend and mentor, the wealthy +Vice-Chairman of the Petty Sessions, who had inducted him into the county +business, announced that he should bear the larger part of the expense. He +was not a little proud of his _protégé_. + +The same old friend and mentor, wise with the knowledge and experience +which long observation of men had given him, advised the young squire what +to do when the depression first came upon agriculture. The old man said, +'Meet it; very likely it will not last two years. What is that in the life +of an estate?' So the young squire met it, and announced at once that he +should return a percentage of his rents. 'But not too high a percentage,' +said the old man; 'let us ascertain what the rest of the landowners think, +else by a too liberal reduction you may seem to cast a reflection upon +them.' The percentage was returned, and continued, and the young squire +has tided over the difficulty. + +His own tenantry and the farming interest generally are proud of him. +Hodge, who, slow as he is, likes a real man, says, 'He beant such a bad +sort of a veller, you; a' beant above speaking to we!' When the time comes +the young squire will certainly be returned. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + + +THE PARSON'S WIFE + +It is pleasant, on a sunny day to walk through a field of wheat when the +footpath is bordered on either side by the ripening crop, without the +intervention of hedge or fence. Such a footpath, narrow, but well kept, +leads from a certain country churchyard to the highway road, and passes on +the way a wicket gate in a thick evergreen shrubbery which surrounds the +vicarage lawn and gardens. This afternoon the wheat stands still and +upright, without a motion, in the burning sunshine, for the sun, though he +has sloped a little from his highest meridian altitude, pours an even +fiercer beam than at the exact hour of noon. The shadeless field is +exposed to the full glare of the brilliant light. There are no trees in +the field itself, the hedges are cut low and trimmed to the smallest +proportions, and are devoid of timber; and, as the ground is high and +close to the hills, all the trees in sight are beneath, and can be +overlooked. Whether in sunshine or storm there is no shelter--no medium; +the wind rushes over with its utmost fury, or the heat rests on it +undisturbed by the faintest current. Yet, sultry as it is, the footpath is +a pleasant one to follow. + +The wheat ears, all but ripe--to the ordinary eye they are ripe, but the +farmer is not quite satisfied--rise to the waist or higher, and tempt the +hand to pluck them. Butterflies flutter over the surface, now descending +to some flower hidden beneath, now resuming their joyous journey. There is +a rich ripe feeling in the very atmosphere, the earth is yielding her +wealth, and a delicate aroma rises from her generous gifts. Far as the eye +can see, the rolling plains and slopes present various tints of +yellow--wheat in different stages of ripeness, or of different kinds; oats +and barley--till the hedges and woods of the vale conceal the farther +landscape on the one hand and the ridge of the hills upon the other. + +Nothing conveys so strong an impression of substantial wealth as the view +of wheat-fields. A diamond ornament in a window may be ticketed as worth +so many hundreds of pounds; but the glittering gem, and the sum it +represents, seem rather abstract than real. But the wheat, the golden +wheat, is a great fact that seizes hold of the mind; the idea comes of +itself that it represents solid wealth. + +The tiles of the vicarage roof--all of the house visible above the +shrubbery--look so hot and dry in the glaring sunshine that it does not +seem possible for vegetation to exist upon them; yet they are tinted with +lichen. The shrubbery has an inviting coolness about it--the thick +evergreens, the hollies on which the berries are now green, the cedars and +ornamental trees planted so close together that the passer-by cannot see +through, must surely afford a grateful shade--a contrast with the heat of +the wheat-field and the dust of the highway below. Just without the wicket +gate a goat standing upon his hind legs, his fore legs placed against the +palings, is industriously nibbling the tenderest leaves of the shrubs and +trees which he can reach. Thus extended to his full length he can reach +considerably higher than might be supposed, and is capable of much +destruction. Doubtless he has got out of bounds. + +Inside the enclosure the reverend gentleman himself reclines in an +arm-chair of cane-work placed under the shade of the verandah, just +without the glass door or window opening from the drawing-room upon the +lawn. His head has fallen back and a little to one side, and an open book +lies on his knee; his soft felt hat is bent and crumpled; he has yielded +to the heat and is slumbering. The blinds are partly down the window, but +a glimpse can be obtained of a luxurious carpet, of tables in valuable +woods and inlaid, of a fine piano, of china, and the thousand and one +nicknacks of highly civilised life. The reverend gentleman's suit of +black, however, is not new; it is, on the contrary, decidedly rusty, and +the sole of one of his boots, which is visible, is much worn. Over his +head the roses twine round the pillars of the verandah, and there is a +_parterre_ of brilliant flowers not far from his feet. + +His wife sits, a few yards distant, under a weeping ash, whose +well-trained boughs make a perfect tent, and shield her from the sun. She +has a small table before her, and writing materials, and is making notes +with the utmost despatch from some paper or journal. She is no longer +young, and there are marks of much care and trouble on her forehead; but +she has still a pleasing expression upon her features, her hands are +exquisitely white, and her figure, once really good, retains some of the +outline that rendered it beautiful. Wherever you saw her you would say, +That is a lady. But her dress, tasteful though it be, is made of the +cheapest material, and looks, indeed, as if it had been carefully folded +away last summer, and was now brought out to do duty a second time. + +The slow rumble of waggon wheels goes down the road, close to the lawn, +but concealed by the trees, against whose boughs the sheaves of the load +rustle as they go past. Wealth rolling by upon the waggon, wealth in the +well-kept garden, in the smart lawn, in the roses, the bright flowers, the +substantial well-furnished house, the luxurious carpet, and the china; +wealth, too, all around in the vast expanse of ripening wheat. He has +nothing to do but to slumber in the cane chair and receive his tithe of +the harvest. She has nothing to do but to sit under the shadow of the +weeping ash and dream dreams, or write verses. Such, at least, might be +the first impression. + +The publication from which she is so earnestly making notes is occupied +with the management of bees, and she is so busy because the paper is only +borrowed, and has to be returned. Most of the papers and books that come +to the vicarage have to be hastily read for the same reason. Mrs. F---- is +doing her very best and hardest to increase the Rev. F----'s income--she +has tried to do so for some years, and despite repeated failures is +bravely, perhaps a little wearily, still trying. There is not much left +for her to experiment with. The goat surreptitiously nibbling the valuable +shrubs outside the palings is a member of a flock that once seemed to +promise fair. Goats at one time (she was persuaded) were the means of +ready wealth--they could live anywhere, on anything (the shrubs to wit), +and yielded such rich milk; it far surpassed that of the shorthorn; there +was the analysis to prove it! Such milk must of course be worth money, +beside which there were the kids, and the cheese and butter. + +Alas! the goats quickly obtained so evil a reputation, worse than that of +the rabbits for biting off the shooting vegetation, that no one would have +them on the land. The milk was all the analysis declared it, but in that +outlying village, which did not contain two houses above the quality of a +farmstead, there was no one to buy it. There was a prejudice against the +butter which could not be got over; and the cheese--well, the cheese +resembled a tablet of dark soap. Hodge would not eat it at a gift; he +smelt it, picked a morsel off on the tip of his clasp knife, and threw it +aside in contempt. One by one the goats were got rid of, and now but two +or three remained; she could not make up her mind to part with all, for +living creatures, however greatly they have disappointed, always enlist +the sympathies of women. + +Poultry was the next grand discovery--they ate their heads off, refused to +lay eggs, and, when by frequent purchase they became numerous and promised +to pay, quietly died by the score, seized with an epidemic. She learnt in +visiting the cottagers how profitable their allotment gardens were to +them, and naturally proceeded to argue that a larger piece of ground would +yield proportionately larger profit if cultivated on the same principle. +If the cottagers could pay a rent for an acre which, in the aggregate, was +three times that given by the ordinary farmer, and could even then make a +good thing of it, surely intelligence and skill might do the same on a +more extended scale. How very foolish the farmers were! they might raise +at least four times the produce they did, and they might pay three times +the rent. As the vicar had some hundred and fifty acres of glebe let at +the usual agricultural rent, if the tenants could be persuaded or +instructed to farm on the cottager's system, what an immense increase it +would be to his income! The tenants, however, did not see it. They +shrugged their shoulders, and made no movement The energetic lady resolved +to set an example, and to prove to them that they were wrong. + +She rented an acre of arable land (at the side of the field), giving the +tenant a fair price for it. First it had to be enclosed so as to be parted +off from the open field. The cost of the palings made the vicar wince; his +lady set it duly down to debit. She planted one-half potatoes, as they +paid thirty pounds per acre, and on the rest put in hundreds of currant +bushes, set a strawberry bed and an asparagus bed, on the principle that +luxuries of that kind fetch a high price and occupy no more space than +cabbages. As the acre was cultivated entirely by the spade, the cost of +the labour expended upon it ran up the figures on the debit side to an +amount which rather startled her. But the most dispiriting part of the +commencement was the length of time to wait before a crop came. According +to her calculations that represented so much idle capital sunk, instead of +being rapidly turned over. However, she consoled herself with the pig-sty, +in which were half a dozen animals, whose feeding she often personally +superintended. + +The potatoes failed, and did not pay for the digging; the currant bushes +were blighted; the strawberries were eaten by snails, and, of course, no +asparagus could be cut for three years; a little item, this last, quite +overlooked. The pigs returned exactly the sum spent upon them; there was +neither profit nor loss, and there did not appear any chance of making a +fortune out of pork. The lady had to abandon the experiment quite +disheartened, and found that, after all her care and energy, her books +showed a loss of fifteen pounds. It was wonderful it was not more; labour +was so expensive, and no doubt she was cheated right and left. + +She next tried to utilise her natural abilities, and to turn her +accomplishments to account. She painted; she illuminated texts; she +undertook difficult needlework of various kinds, in answer to +advertisements which promised ample remuneration for a few hours' labour. +Fifteen hours' hard work she found was worth just threepence, and the +materials cost one shilling: consequently she laboriously worked herself +poorer by ninepence. + +Finally, she was studying bees, which really seemed to hold out some +prospect of success. Yonder were the hills where they could find thyme in +abundance; the fields around supplied clover; and the meadows below were +full of flowers. So that hot summer day, under the weeping ash, she was +deep in the study of the 'Ligurian queen,' the 'super' system, the +mysteries of 'driving,' and making sketches of patent hives. Looking up +from her sketch she saw that her husband had fallen asleep, and stayed to +gaze at him thoughtfully. + +He looked worn, and older than he really was; as if rest or change would +do him good; as if he required luxuries and petting. She sighed, and +wondered whether the bees would enable her to buy him such things, for +though the house was well furnished and apparently surrounded with wealth, +they were extremely poor. Yet she did not care for money for their own +household use so much as to give him the weight in parish affairs he so +sadly needed. She felt that he was pushed aside, treated as a cipher, and +that he had little of the influence that properly belonged to him. Her two +daughters, their only children, were comfortably, though not grandly, +married and settled; there was no family anxiety. But the work, the +parish, the people, all seemed to have slipped out of her husband's hands. +She could not but acknowledge that he was too quiet and yielding, that he +lacked the brazen voice, the personal force that imposes upon men. But +surely his good intentions, his way of life, his gentle kindness should +carry sway. Instead of which the parish seemed to have quite left the +Church, and the parson was outside the real modern life of the village. No +matter what he did, even if popular, it soon seemed to pass out of his +hands. + +There was the school, for instance. He could indeed go across and visit +it, but he had no control, no more than the veriest stranger that strolled +along the road. He had always been anxious for a good school, and had done +the best he could with means so limited before the new Acts came into +operation. When they were passed he was the first to endeavour to carry +them out and to save the village the cost and the possible quarrelling of +a school board. He went through all the preliminary work, and reconciled, +as far as possible, the jarring interests that came into play. The two +largest landlords of the place were unfortunately not on good terms. +Whatever the one did the other was jealous of, so that when one promised +the necessary land for the school, and it was accepted, the other withdrew +his patronage, and declined to subscribe. With great efforts the vicar, +nevertheless, got the school erected, and to all appearance the difficulty +was surmounted. + +But when the Government inspection took place it was found that, though +not nearly filled with scholars, there was not sufficient cubic space to +include the children of a distant outlying hamlet, which the vicar had +hoped to manage by a dame school. These poor children, ill fed and young, +could hardly stand walking to and from the village school--a matter of +some five miles daily, and which in winter and wet weather was, in itself, +a day's work for their weary little limbs. As the vicar could not raise +money enough to pay a certificated teacher at the proposed branch or dame +school, the scheme had to be abandoned. Then, according to red tape, it +was necessary to enlarge the village school to accommodate these few +children, and this notwithstanding that the building was never full. The +enlargement necessitated a great additional expenditure The ratepayers +did, indeed, after much bickering and much persuasion, in the end pay off +the deficiency; but in the meantime, the village had been brought to the +verge of a school board. + +Religious differences came to the front--there was, in fact, a trial of +force between the denominations. Till then for many years these +differences had slumbered and been almost forgotten; they were now brought +into collision, and the social quiet of the place was upset. A council of +the chief farmers and some others was ultimately formed, and, as a matter +of fact, really did represent the inhabitants fairly well. But while it +represented the parish, it left the vicar quite outside. He had a voice, +but nothing more. He was not the centre--the controlling spirit. + +He bore it meekly enough, so far as he was personally concerned; but he +grieved about it in connection with his deep religious feelings and his +Church. The Church was not in the front of all, as it should be. It was +hard after all his labour; the rebuffs, the bitter remarks, the sneers of +those who had divergent views, and, perhaps worse than all, the cold +indifference and apathy of those who wished things to remain in the old +state, ignoring the fact that the law would not suffer it. There were many +other things besides the school, but they all went the same way. The +modern institution was introduced, championed by the Church, worked for by +the Church, but when at last it was successful, somehow or other it seemed +to have severed itself from the Church altogether. The vicar walked about +the village, and felt that, though nominally in it, he was really out of +it. + +His wife saw it too, still more clearly than he did. She saw that he had +none of the gift of getting money out of people. Some men seem only to +have to come in contact with others to at once receive the fruits of their +dormant benevolent feelings. The rich man writes his cheque for 100_l_., +the middle-class well-to-do sends his bank notes for 20_l_., the +comfortable middle-class man his sovereigns. A testimonial is got up, an +address engrossed on vellum, speeches are made, and a purse handed over +containing a draft for so many hundreds, 'in recognition, not in reward, +of your long continued and successful ministrations.' The art of causing +the purse-strings to open is an art that is not so well understood, +perhaps, among the orthodox as by the unorthodox. The Rev. F---- either +could not, or would not, or did not know how to ask, and he did not +receive. + +Just at present his finances were especially low. The tenants who farmed +the glebe land threatened to quit unless their rents were materially +reduced, and unless a considerable sum was expended upon improvements. To +some very rich men the reduction of rents has made a sensible difference; +to the Rev. F---- it meant serious privations. But he had no choice; he +had to be satisfied with that or nothing. Then the vicarage house, though +substantial and pleasant to look at, was not in a good state within. The +rain came through in more places than one, and the ancient woodwork of the +roof was rotten. He had already done considerable repairing, and knew that +he must soon do more. The nominal income of the living was but moderate; +but when the reductions were all made, nothing but a cheese-paring seemed +left. From this his subscriptions to certain ecclesiastical institutions +had to be deducted. + +Lastly, he had received a hint that a curate ought to be kept now that his +increasing age rendered him less active than before. There was less hope +now than ever of anything being done for him in the parish. The landowners +complained of rent reductions, of farms idle on their hands, and of +increasing expenses. The farmers grumbled about the inclement seasons, +their continual losses, and the falling markets. It was not a time when +the churlish are almost generous, having such overflowing pockets. There +was no testimonial, no address on vellum, no purse with banker's draft for +the enfeebled servant of the Church slumbering in the cane chair in the +verandah. + +Yet the house was exquisitely kept, marvellously kept considering the +class of servants they were obliged to put up with. The garden was bright +and beautiful with flowers, the lawn smooth; there was an air of +refinement everywhere. So the clergyman slept, and the wife turned again +to her sketch of the patent hive, hoping that the golden honey might at +last bring some metallic gold. The waggon rumbled down the road, and +Hodge, lying at full length on the top of the load, could just see over +the lowest part of the shrubbery, and thought to himself what a jolly life +that parson led, sleeping the hot hours away in the shade. + + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + + +A MODERN COUNTRY CURATE + + +'He can't stroddle thuck puddle, you: can a'?' + +'He be going to try: a' will leave his shoe in it.' + +Such were the remarks that passed between two agricultural women who from +behind the hedge were watching the approach of the curate along a deep +miry lane. Where they stood the meadow was high above the level of the +lane, which was enclosed by steep banks thickly overgrown with bramble, +briar, and thorn. The meadows each side naturally drained into the hollow, +which during a storm was filled with a rushing torrent, and even after a +period of dry weather was still moist, for the overhanging trees prevented +evaporation. A row of sarsen stones at irregular intervals were intended +to afford firm footing to the wayfarer, but they were nothing more than +traps for the unwary. Upon placing the foot on the smooth rounded surface +it immediately slipped, and descended at an angle into a watery hole. The +thick, stiff, yellow clay held the water like a basin; the ruts, quite two +feet deep, where waggon wheels had been drawn through by main force, were +full to the brim. In summer heats they might have dried, but in November, +though fine, they never would. + +Yet if the adventurous passenger, after gamely struggling, paused awhile +to take breath, and looked up from the mud, the view above was beautiful. +The sun shone, and lit up the oaks, whose every leaf was brown or buff; +the gnats played in thousands in the mild air under the branches. Through +the coloured leaves the blue sky was visible, and far ahead a faintly +bluish shadow fell athwart the hollow. There were still blackberries on +the bramble, beside which the brown fern filled the open spaces, and +behind upon the banks the mosses clothed the ground and the roots of the +trees with a deep green. Two or more fieldfares were watching in an elm +some distance down; the flock to which they belonged was feeding, partly +in the meadow and partly in the hedge. Every now and then the larks flew +over, uttering their call-note. Behind a bunch of rushes a young rabbit +crouched in the ditch on the earth thrown out from the hole hard by, +doubtful in his mind whether to stay there or to enter the burrow. + +It was so still and mild between the banks, where there was not the least +current of air, that the curate grew quite warm with the exertion. His +boots adhered to the clay, in which they sank at every step; they came out +with a 'sock, sock.' He now followed the marks of footsteps, planting his +step where the weight of some carter or shepherd had pressed the mud down +firm. Where these failed he was attracted by a narrow grass-grown ridge, a +few inches wide, between two sets of ruts. In a minute he felt the ridge +giving beneath him as the earth slipped into the watery ruts. Next he +crept along the very edge of the ditch, where the briars hooked in the +tail of his black frock-coat, and an unnoticed projecting bough quietly +lifted his shovel-hat off, but benevolently held it suspended, instead of +dropping it in the mud. Still he made progress, though slow; now with a +giant stride across an exceptionally doubtful spot, now zigzagging from +side to side. The lane was long, and he seemed to make but little advance. +But there was a spirit in him not to be stayed by mud, or clay, or any +other obstacle. It is pleasant to see an enthusiast, whether right or +wrong, in these cynical days. He was too young to have acquired much +worldly wisdom, but he was full of the high spirit which arises from +thorough conviction and the sense of personal consecration conferred by +the mission on the man. He pushed on steadily till brought to a stop by a +puddle, broad, deep, and impassable, which extended right across the lane, +and was some six or eight yards long. He tried to slip past at the side, +but the banks were thick with thorns, and the brambles overhung the water; +the outer bushes coated with adhesive mud. Then he sounded the puddle with +his stick as far as he could reach, and found it deep and the bottom soft, +so that the foot would sink into it. He considered, and looked up and down +the lane. + +The two women, of whose presence he was unconscious, watched him from the +high and dry level of the meadow, concealed behind the bushes and the +oaks. They wore a species of smock frock gathered in round the waist by a +band over their ordinary dress; these smock frocks had once been white, +but were now discoloured with dirt and the weather. They were both stout +and stolid-looking, hardy as the trees under which they stood. They were +acorn picking, searching for the dropped acorns in the long rank grass by +the hedge, under the brown leaves, on the banks, and in the furrows. The +boughs of the oak spread wide--the glory of the tree is its head--and the +acorns are found in a circle corresponding with the outer circumference of +the branches. Some are still farther afield, because in falling they +strike the boughs and glance aside. A long slender pole leaning against +the hedge was used to thrash the boughs within reach, and so to knock down +any that remained. + +A sack half filled was on the ground close to the trunk of the oak, and by +it was a heap of dead sticks, to be presently carried home to boil the +kettle. Two brown urchins assisted them, and went where the women could +not go, crawling under the thorns into the hedge, and creeping along the +side of the steep bank, gathering acorns that had fallen into the mouths +of the rabbit holes, or that were lying under the stoles. Out of sight +under the bushes they could do much as they liked, looking for fallen nuts +instead of acorns, or eating a stray blackberry, while their mothers +rooted about among the grass and leaves of the meadow. Such continual +stooping would be weary work for any one not accustomed to it. As they +worked from tree to tree they did not observe the colours of the leaves, +or the wood-pigeons, or the pheasant looking along the edge of the ditch +on the opposite side of the field. If they paused it was to gossip or to +abuse the boys for not bringing more acorns to the sack. + +But when the boys, hunting in the hedge, descried the curate in the +distance and came back with the news, the two women were suddenly +interested. The pheasants, the wood-pigeons, or the coloured leaves were +not worthy of a glance. To see a gentleman up to his ankles in mud was +quite an attraction. The one stood with her lap half-full of acorns; the +other with a basket on her arm. The two urchins lay down on the ground, +and peered from behind a thorn stole, their brown faces scarcely +distinguishable from the brown leaves, except for their twinkling eyes. +The puddle was too wide to step across, as the women had said, nor was +there any way round it. + +The curate looked all round twice, but he was not the man to go back. He +tucked up his troupers nearly to the knee--he wore them short always--and +stepped into the water. At this the urchins could barely suppress a shout +of delight--they did, however, suppress it--and craned forward to see him +splash. The curate waded slowly to the middle, getting deeper and deeper, +and then suddenly found firmer footing, and walked the rest of the way +with the water barely over his boots. After he was through he cleansed his +boots on a wisp of grass and set off at a good pace, for the ground past +the pool began to rise, and the lane was consequently drier. The women +turned again to their acorns, remarking, in a tone with something like +respect in it, 'He didn't stop for the mud, you: did a'?' + +Presently the curate reached the highway with its hard surface, and again +increased his pace. The hedges here were cut each side, and as he walked +rapidly, leaning forward, his shovel-hat and shoulders were visible above +them, and his coat tails floated in the breeze of his own progress. His +heavy boots--they were extremely thick and heavy, though without +nails--tramped, tramped, on the hard road. With a stout walking-stick in +one hand, and in the other a book, he strode forward, still more swiftly +as it seemed at every stride. A tall young man, his features seemed thin +and almost haggard; out of correspondence with a large frame, they looked +as if asceticism had drawn and sharpened them. There was earnestness and +eagerness--almost feverish eagerness--in the expression of his face. He +passed the meadows, the stubble fields, the green root crops, the men at +plough, who noticed his swift walk, contrasting with their own slow +motion; and as he went his way now and then consulted a little slip of +paper, upon which he had jotted memoranda of his engagements. Work, work, +work--ceaseless work. How came this? What could there be to do in a +sparely-populated agricultural district with, to appearance, hardly a +cottage to a mile? + +After nearly an hour's walking he entered the outskirts of a little +country town, slumbering outside the railway system, and, turning aside +from the street, stopped at the door of the ancient vicarage. The resident +within is the ecclesiastical head of two separate hamlets lying at some +miles' distance from his own parish. Each of these hamlets possesses a +church, though the population is of the very sparsest, and in each he +maintains a resident curate. A third curate assists him in the duties of +the home parish, which is a large one, that is, in extent. From one of +these distant hamlets the curate, who struggled so bravely through the +mire, has walked in to consult with his superior. He is shown into the +library, and sinks not unwillingly into a chair to wait for the vicar, who +is engaged with a district visitor, or lay sister. + +This part of the house is ancient, and dates from medieval times. Some +have conjectured that the present library and the adjoining rooms (the +partitions being modern) originally formed the refectory of a monastic +establishment. Others assign it to another use; but all agree that it is +monastic and antique. The black oak rafters of the roof, polished as it +were by age, meet overhead unconcealed by ceiling. Upon the wall in one +place a figure seems at the first glance to be in the act to glide forth +like a spectre from the solid stone. The effect is caused by the subdued +colouring, which is shadowy and indistinct. It was perhaps gaudy when +first painted; but when a painting has been hidden by a coat or two of +plaster, afterwards as carefully removed as it was carelessly laid on, the +tints lose their brilliancy. Some sainted woman in a flowing robe, with +upraised arm, stands ever in the act to bless. Only half one of the +windows of the original hall is in this apartment--the partition wall +divides it. There yet remain a few stained panes in the upper part; few as +they are and small, yet the coloured light that enters through them seems +to tone the room. + +The furniture, of oak, is plain and spare to the verge of a gaunt +severity, and there is not one single picture-frame on the wide expanse of +wall. On the table are a few books and some letters, with foreign +postmarks, and addressed in the crabbed handwriting of Continental +scholars. Over the table a brazen lamp hangs suspended by a slender chain. +In a corner are some fragments of stone mouldings and wood carvings like +the panel of an ancient pew. There are no shelves and no bookcase. Besides +those on the table, one volume lies on the floor, which is without carpet +or covering, but absolutely clean: and by the wall, not far from the +fireplace, is an open chest, ancient and ponderous, in which are the works +of the Fathers. The grate has been removed from the fireplace and the +hearth restored; for in that outlying district there is plenty of wood. +Though of modern make, the heavy brass fire-irons are of ancient shape. +The fire has gone out--the logs are white with the ash that forms upon +decaying embers; it is clear that the owner of this bare apartment, called +a library, but really a study, is not one who thinks of his own personal +comfort. If examined closely the floor yonder bears the marks of feet that +have walked monotonously to and fro in hours of thought. When the eye has +taken in these things, as the rustle of the brown leaves blown against the +pane without in the silence is plainly audible, the mind seems in an +instant to slip back four hundred years. + +The weary curate has closed his eyes, and starts as a servant enters +bringing him wine, for the vicar, utterly oblivious of his own comfort, is +ever on the watch for that of others. His predecessor, a portly man, happy +in his home alone, and, as report said, loving his ease and his palate, +before he was preferred to a richer living, called in the advice of +architects as to converting the ancient refectory to some use. In his time +it was a mere lumber-room, into which all the odds and ends of the house +were thrown. Plans were accordingly prepared for turning one part of it +into a cosy breakfast parlour, and the other into a conservatory. Before +any steps, however, were taken he received his preferment--good things +flow to the rich--and departed, leaving behind him a favourable memory. If +any inhabitant were asked what the old vicar did, or said, and what work +he accomplished, the reply invariably was, 'Oh! hum! he was a very good +sort of man: he never interfered with anybody or anything!' + +Accustomed to such an even tenour of things, all the _vis inertiae_ of the +parish revolted when the new vicar immediately evinced a determination to +do his work thoroughly. The restless energy of the man alone set the +stolid old folk at once against him. They could not 'a-bear to see he +a-flying all over the parish: why couldn't he bide at home?' No one is so +rigidly opposed to the least alteration in the conduct of the service as +the old farmer or farmer's wife, who for forty years and more has listened +to the same old hymn, the same sing-song response, the same style of +sermon. It is vain to say that the change is still no more than what +was--contemplated by the Book of Common Prayer. They naturally interpret +that book by what they have been accustomed to from childhood. The vicar's +innovations were really most inoffensive, and well within even a narrow +reading of the rubric. The fault lay in the fact that they were +innovations, so far as the practice of that parish was concerned. So the +old folk raised their voices in a chorus of horror, and when they met +gossiped over the awful downfall of the faith. All that the vicar had yet +done was to intone a part of the service, and at once many announced that +they should stay away. + +Next he introduced a choir. The sweet voices of the white-robed boys +rising along the vaulted roof of the old church melted the hearts of those +who, with excuses for their curiosity to their neighbours, ventured to go +and hear them. The vicar had a natural talent, almost a genius, for music. +There was a long struggle in his mind whether he might or might not permit +himself an organ in his library. He decided it against himself, mortifying +the spirit as well as the flesh, but in the service of the Church he felt +that he might yield to his inclination. By degrees he gathered round him +the best voices of the parish; the young of both sexes came gladly after +awhile to swell the volume of song. How powerful is the influence of holy +music upon such minds as are at all inclined to serious devotion! The +church filled more and more every Sunday, and people came from the +farthest corners of the parish, walking miles to listen. The young people +grew enthusiastic, and one by one the old folk yielded and followed them. + +At the same time the church itself seemed to change. It had been cold and +gloomy, and gaunt within, for so many generations, that no one noticed it. +A place of tombs, men hurried away from it as quickly as possible. Now, +little touches here and there gradually gave it the aspect of habitation. +The new curtains hung at the door of the vestry, and drawn, too, across +the main entrance when service began, the _fleur-de-lys_ on the crimson +ground gave an impression of warmth. The old tarnished brazen fittings of +the pews were burnished up, a new and larger stove (supplied at the +vicar's expense) diffused at least some little heat in winter. A curate +came, one who worked heart and soul with the vicar, and the service became +very nearly choral, the vicar now wearing the vestment which his degree +gave him the strict right to assume. There were brazen candlesticks behind +the altar, and beautiful flowers. Before, the interior was all black and +white. Now there was a sense of colour, of crimson curtains, of polished +brass, of flowers, and rich-toned altar cloth. The place was lit up with a +new light. After the first revolt of the old folk there was little +opposition, because the vicar, being a man who had studied human nature +and full of practical wisdom as well as learning, did all things +gradually. One thing as introduced at a time, and the transition--after +the first start--was effected imperceptibly. Nor was any extravagant +ritual thrust upon the congregation; nor any suspicious doctrine broached. + +In that outlying country place, where men had no knowledge of cathedrals, +half the offices of the Church had been forgotten. The vicar brought them +back again. He began early morning services; he had the church open all +day for private prayer. He reminded the folk of Lent and Eastertide, +which, except for the traditional pancakes, had almost passed out of their +lives. Festivals, saints' days, midnight service, and, above all, the +Communion, were insisted upon and brought home to them. As in many other +country districts, the Communion had nearly dropped into disuse. At first +he was alone, but by-and-by a group of willing lay helpers grew up around +him. The churchwardens began to work with him; then a few of the larger +tenant farmers. Of the two great landed proprietors, one was for him from +the first, the other made no active opposition, but stood aloof. When, in +the autumn, the family of the one that was for him came home, a fresh +impetus was given. The ladies of the mansion came forward to join in the +parish and Church work, and then other ladies, less exalted, but fairly +well-to-do, who had only been waiting for a leader, crowded after. + +For the first time in the memory of man the parish began to be 'visited.' +Lay sisters accepted the charge of districts; and thus there was not a +cottage, nor an old woman, but had the change brought home to her. +Confirmation, which had been almost forgotten, was revived, and it was +surprising what a number of girls came forward to be prepared. The Bishop, +who was not at all predisposed to view the 'movement' with favour, when he +saw the full church, the devotional congregation, and after he had visited +the vicarage and seen into what was going on personally, expressed openly +a guarded approval, and went away secretly well pleased. Rightly or +wrongly, there was a 'movement' in the parish and the outlying hamlets: +and thus it was that the curate, struggling through the mire, carried in +his face the expression of hard work. Work, work, work; the vicar, his +three curates and band of lay helpers, worked incessantly. + +Besides his strictly parochial duties, the vicar wrote a manual for use in +the schools, he attended the Chambers of Agriculture, and supported +certain social movements among the farmers; he attended meetings, and, +both socially and politically, by force of character, energy, and the gift +of speech, became a power in the country side. Still striving onwards, he +wrote in London periodicals, he published a book, he looked from the +silence of his gaunt study towards the great world, and sometimes dreamed +of what he might have done had he not been buried in the country, and of +what he might even yet accomplish. All who came in contact with him felt +the influence of his concentrated purpose: one and all, after they had +worked their hardest, thought they had still not done so much as he would +have done. + +The man's charm of manner was not to be resisted; he believed his office +far above monarchs, but there was no personal pretension. That gentle, +pleasing manner, with the sense of intellectual power behind it, quite +overcame the old folk. They all spoke with complacent pride of 'our +vicar'; and, what was more, opened their purses. The interior of the +church was restored, and a noble organ built. When its beautiful notes +rose and fell, when sweet voices swelled the wave of sound, then even the +vicar's restless spirit was soothed in the fulfilment of his hope. A large +proportion of the upper and middle class of the parish was, without a +doubt, now gathered around him; and there was much sympathy manifested +from adjacent parishes with his objects, sympathy which often took the +form of subscriptions from distant people. + +But what said Hodge to it all? Hodge said nothing. Some few young cottage +people who had good voices, and liked to use them, naturally now went to +church. So did the old women and old men, who had an eye to charity. But +the strong, sturdy men, the carters and shepherds, stood aloof; the bulk +and backbone of the agricultural labouring population were not in the +least affected. They viewed the movement with utter indifference. They +cleaned their boots on a Sunday morning while the bells were ringing, and +walked down to their allotments, and came home and ate their cabbage, and +were as oblivious of the vicar as the wind that blew. They had no present +quarrel with the Church; no complaint whatever; nor apparently any old +memory or grudge; yet there was a something, a blank space as it were, +between them and the Church. If anything, the 'movement' rather set them +against going. + +Agricultural cottagers have a strong bias towards Dissent in one form or +another; village chapels are always well filled. Dissent, of course, would +naturally rather dislike a movement of the kind. But there was no active +or even passive opposition. The cottage folk just ignored the Church; +nothing more and nothing less. No efforts were spared to obtain their +good-will and to draw them into the fold, but there was absolutely no +response. Not a labourer's family in that wide district was left +unvisited. The cottages were scattered far apart, dotted here and there, +one or two down in a narrow coombe surrounded on three sides by the green +wall of the hills. Others stood on the bleak plains, unsheltered by tree +or hedge, exposed to the keen winds that swept across the level, yet +elevated fields. A new cottage built in modern style, with glaring red +brick, was perched on the side of a hill, where it was visible miles away. +An old thatched one stood in a hollow quite alone, half a mile from the +highway, and so hidden by the oaks that an army might have ravaged the +country and never found it. How many, many miles of weary walking such +rounds as these required! + +Though they had, perhaps, never received a 'visitor' before, it was +wonderful with what skill the cottage women especially--the men being +often away at work--adapted themselves to the new _régime_. Each time they +told a more pitiful tale, set in such a realistic framing of hardship and +exposure that a stranger could not choose but believe. In the art of +encouraging attentions of this sort no one excels the cottage women; the +stories they will relate, with the smallest details inserted in the right +place, are something marvellous. At first you would exclaim with the +deepest commiseration, such a case of suffering and privation as this +cannot possibly be equalled by any in the parish; but calling at the next +cottage, you are presented with a yet more moving relation, till you find +the whole population are plunged in misery and afflicted with incredible +troubles. They cannot, surely, be the same folk that work so sturdily at +harvest. But when the curate has administered words of consolation and +dropped the small silver dole in the palm, when his shovel-hat and black +frock-coat tails have disappeared round the corner of the copse, then in a +single second he drops utterly out of mind. No one comes to church the +more. If inquiries are made why they did not come, a hundred excuses are +ready; the rain, a bad foot, illness of the infant, a cow taken ill and +requiring attention, and so on. + +After some months of such experience the curate's spirits gradually +decline; his belief in human nature is sadly shaken. Men who openly +oppose, who argue and deny, are comparatively easy to deal with; there is +the excitement of the battle with evil. But a population that listens, and +apparently accepts the message, that is so thankful for little charities, +and always civil, and yet turns away utterly indifferent, what is to be +done with it? Might not the message nearly as well be taken to the cow at +her crib, or the horse at his manger? They, too, would receive a wisp of +sweet hay willingly from the hand. + +But the more bitter the experience, the harder the trial, the more +conscientiously the curate proceeds upon his duty, struggling bravely +through the mire. He adds another mile to his daily journey: he denies +himself some further innocent recreation. The cottages in the open fields +are comparatively pleasant to visit, the sweet fresh air carries away +effluvia. Those that are so curiously crowded together in the village are +sinks of foul smell, and may be of worse--places where, if fever come, it +takes hold and quits not. His superior requests him earnestly to refrain +awhile and to take rest, to recruit himself with a holiday--even orders +him to desist from overmuch labour. The man's mind is in it, and he cannot +obey. What is the result? + +Some lovely autumn day, at a watering-place, you may perchance be +strolling by the sea, with crowds of well-dressed, happy people on the one +side, and on the other the calm sunlit plain where boats are passing to +and fro. A bath-chair approaches, and a young man clad in black gets out +of it, where some friendly iron railings afford him a support for his +hand. There, step by step, leaning heavily on the rails, he essays to walk +as a child. The sockets of his joints yield beneath him, the limbs are +loose, the ankle twists aside; each step is an enterprise, and to gain a +yard a task. Thus day by day the convalescent strives to accustom the +sinews to their work. It is a painful spectacle; how different, how +strangely altered, from the upright frame and the swift stride that +struggled through the miry lane, perhaps even then bearing the seeds of +disease imbibed in some foul village den, where duty called him! + +His wan, white face seems featureless; there is nothing but a pair of +deep-set eyes. But as you pass, and momentarily catch their glance, they +are bright and burning still with living faith. + + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + + +THE SOLICITOR + + +In glancing along the street of a country town, a house may sometimes be +observed of a different and superior description to the general row of +buildings. It is larger, rises higher, and altogether occupies more space. +The façade is stylish, in architectural fashion of half a century since. +To the modern eye it may not perhaps look so interesting as the true old +gabled roofs which seem so thoroughly English, nor, on the other hand, so +bright and cheerful as the modern suburban villa. But it is substantial +and roomy within. The weather has given the front a sombre hue, and the +windows are dingy, as if they rarely or never knew the care of a +housemaid. On the ground floor the windows that would otherwise look on to +the street are blocked to almost half their height with a wire blind so +closely woven that no one can see in, and it is not easy to see out. The +doorway is large, with stone steps and porch--the doorway of a gentleman's +house. There is business close at hand--shops and inns, and all the usual +offices of a town--but, though in the midst, this house wears an air of +separation from the rest of the street. + +When it was built--say fifty years ago, or more--it was, in fact, the +dwelling-house of an independent gentleman. Similar houses may be found in +other parts of the place, once inhabited by retired and wealthy people. +Such persons no longer live in towns of this kind--they build villas with +lawns and pleasure grounds outside in the environs, or, though still +retaining their pecuniary interest, reside at a distance. Like large +cities, country towns are now almost given over to offices, shops, +workshops, and hotels. Those who have made money get away from the streets +as quickly as possible. Upon approaching nearer to this particular +building the street door will be found to be wide open to the public, and, +if you venture still closer, a name may be seen painted in black letters +upon the side of the passage wall, after the manner of the brokers in the +courts off Throgmorton Street, or of the lawyers in the Temple. It is, in +fact, the office of a country solicitor--most emphatically one of Hodge's +many masters--and is admirably suited for his purpose, on account of its +roomy interior. + +The first door within opens on the clerks' room, and should you modestly +knock on the panels instead of at once turning the handle, a voice will +invite you to 'Come in.' Half of the room is partitioned off for the +clerks, who sit at a long high desk, with a low railing or screen in front +of them. Before the senior is a brass rail, along which he can, if he +chooses, draw a red curtain. He is too hard at work and intent upon some +manuscript to so much as raise his head as you enter. But the two younger +men, eager for a change, look over the screen, and very civilly offer to +attend to your business. When you have said that you wish to see the head +of the firm, you naturally imagine that your name will be at once shouted +up the tube, and that in a minute or two, at farthest, you will be ushered +into the presence of the principal. In that small country town there +cannot surely be much work for a lawyer, and a visitor must be quite an +event. Instead, however, of using the tube they turn to the elder clerk, +and a whispered conversation takes place, of which some broken sentences +may be caught--'He can't be disturbed,' 'It's no use,' 'Must wait.' Then +the elder clerk looks over his brass rail and says he is very sorry, but +the principal is engaged, the directors of a company are with him, and it +is quite impossible to say exactly when they will leave. It may be ten +minutes, or an hour. But if you like to wait (pointing with his quill to a +chair) your name shall be sent up directly the directors leave. + +You glance at the deck, and elect to wait. The older clerk nods his head, +and instantly resumes his writing. The chair is old and hard--the stuffing +compressed by a generation of weary suitors; there are two others at equal +distances along the wall. The only other furniture is a small but solid +table, upon which stands a brass copying-press. On the mantelpiece there +are scales for letter-weighing, paper clips full of papers, a county +Post-office directory, a railway time-table card nailed to the wall, and a +box of paper-fasteners. Over it is a map, dusty and dingy, of some estate +laid out for building purposes, with a winding stream running through it, +roads passing at right angles, and the points of the compass indicated in +an upper corner. + +On the other side of the room, by the window, a framed advertisement hangs +against the wall, like a picture, setting forth the capital and reserve +and the various advantages offered by an insurance company, for which the +firm are the local agents. Between the chairs are two boards fixed to the +wall with some kind of hook or nail for the suspension of posters and +printed bills. These boards are covered with such posters, announcing +sales by auction, farms to be let, houses to be had on lease, shares in a +local bank or gasworks for sale, and so on, for all of which properties +the firm are the legal representatives. Though the room is of fair size +the ceiling is low, as in often the case in old houses, and it has, in +consequence, become darkened by smoke and dust, therein, after awhile, +giving a gloomy, oppressive feeling to any one who has little else to gaze +at. The blind at the window rises far too high to allow of looking out, +and the ground glass above it was designed to prevent the clerks from +wasting their time watching the passers-by in the street. There is, +however, one place where the glass is worn and transparent, and every now +and then one of the two younger clerks mounts on his stool and takes a +peep through to report to his companion. + +The restraint arising from the presence of a stranger soon wears off; the +whisper rises to a buzz of talk; they laugh, and pelt each other with +pellets of paper. The older clerk takes not the least heed. He writes +steadily on, and never lifts his head from the paper--long hours of labour +have dimmed his sight, and he has to stoop close over the folio. He may be +preparing a brief, he may be copying a deposition, or perhaps making a +copy of a deed; but whatever it is, his whole mind is absorbed and +concentrated on his pen. There must be no blot, no erasure, no +interlineation. The hand of the clock moves slowly, and the half-heard +talk and jests of the junior clerks--one of whom you suspect of making a +pen-and-ink sketch of you--mingle with the ceaseless scrape of the +senior's pen, and the low buzz of two black flies that circle for ever +round and round just beneath the grimy ceiling. Occasionally noises of the +street penetrate; the rumble of loaded waggons, the tramp of nailed shoes, +or the sharp quick sound of a trotting horse's hoofs. Then the junior +jumps up and gazes through the peephole. The directors are a very long +time upstairs. What can their business be? Why are there directors at all +in little country towns? + +Presently there are heavy footsteps in the passage, the door slowly opens, +and an elderly labourer, hat in hand, peers in. No one takes the least +notice of him. He leans on his stick and blinks his eyes, looking all +round the room; then taps with the stick and clears his throat--'Be he in +yet?' he asks, with emphasis on the 'he.' 'No, he be not in,' replies a +junior, mocking the old man's accent and grammar. The senior looks up, +'Call at two o'clock, the deed is not ready,' and down goes his head +again. 'A main bit o' bother about this yer margidge' (mortgage), the +labourer remarks, as he turns to go out, not without a complacent smile on +his features for the law's delays seem to him grand, and he feels +important. He has a little property--a cottage and garden--upon which he +is raising a small sum for some purpose, and this 'margidge' is one of the +great events of his life. He talked about it for two or three years before +he ventured to begin it; he has been weeks making up his mind exactly what +to do after his first interview with the solicitor--he would have been +months had not the solicitor at last made it plain that he could waste no +more time--and when it is finally completed he will talk about it again to +the end of his days. He will be in and out asking for 'he' all day long at +intervals, and when the interview takes place it will be only for the +purpose of having everything already settled explained over to him for the +fiftieth time. His heavy shoes drag slowly down the passage--he will go to +the street corner and talk with the carters who come in, and the old +women, with their baskets, a-shopping, about 'this yer law job.' + +There is a swifter step on the lead-covered staircase, and a clerk +appears, coming from the upper rooms. He has a telegram and a letter in +one hand, and a bundle of papers in the other. He shows the telegram and +the letter to his fellow clerks--even the grave senior just glances at the +contents silently, elevates his eyebrows, and returns to his work. After a +few minutes' talk and a jest or two the clerk rushes upstairs again. + +Another caller comes. It is a stout, florid man, a young farmer or +farmer's son, riding-whip in hand, who produces a red-bound rate-book from +a pocket in his coat made on purpose to hold the unwieldy volume. He is a +rate-collector for his parish, and has called about some technicalities. +The grave senior clerk examines the book, but cannot solve the +difficulties pointed out by the collector, and, placing it on one side, +recommends the inquirer to call in two hours' time. Steps again on the +stairs, and another clerk comes down leisurely, and after him still +another. Their only business is to exchange a few words with their +friends, for pastime, and they go up again. + +As the morning draws on, the callers become more numerous, and it is easy +to tell the positions they occupy by the degree of attention they receive +from the clerks. A tradesman calls three or four times, with short +intervals between--he runs over from his shop; the two juniors do not +trouble to so much as look over the screen, and barely take the trouble to +answer the anxious inquiry if the principal is yet disengaged. They know, +perhaps, too much about his bills and the state of his credit. A builder +looks in--the juniors are tolerably civil and explain to him that it is no +use calling for yet another hour at least. The builder consults his watch, +and decides to see the chief clerk (who is himself an attorney, having +passed the examination), and is forthwith conducted upstairs. A burly +farmer appears, and the grave senior puts his head up to answer, and +expresses his sorrow that the principal is so occupied. The burly farmer, +however, who is evidently a man of substance, thinks that the chief clerk +can also do what he wants, and he, too, is ushered upstairs. Another +farmer enters--a rather rougher-looking man--and, without saying a word, +turns to the advertisement boards on which the posters of farms to be let, +&c., are displayed. These he examines with the greatest care, pointing +with his forefinger as he slowly reads, and muttering to himself. +Presently he moves to go. 'Anything to suit you, sir?' asks the senior +clerk. 'Aw, no; I knows they be too much money,' he replies, and walks +out. + +A gentleman next enters, and immediately the juniors sink out of sight, +and scribble away with eager application; the senior puts down his pen and +comes out from his desk. It is a squire and magistrate. The senior +respectfully apologises for his employer being so occupied. The gentleman +seems a little impatient. The clerk rubs his hands together deprecatingly, +and makes a desperate venture. He goes upstairs, and in a few minutes +returns; the papers are not ready, but shall be sent over that evening in +any case. With this even the squire must fain be satisfied and depart. The +burly farmer and the builder come downstairs together amicably chatting, +and after them the chief clerk himself. Though young, he has already an +expression of decision upon his features, an air of business about him; in +fact, were he not thoroughly up to his work he would not remain in that +office long. To hold that place is a guarantee of ability. He has a bundle +of cheques, drafts, &c., in his hand, and after a few words with the grave +senior at the desk, strolls across to the bank. + +No sooner has the door closed behind him than a shoal of clerks come +tripping down on tip-toe, and others appear from the back of the house. +They make use of the opportunity for a little gossip. Voices are heard in +the passage, and an aged and infirm labouring man is helped in by a woman +and a younger man. The clerks take no notice, and the poor old follow +props himself against the wall, not daring to take a chair. He is a +witness. He can neither read nor write, but he can recollect 'thuck ould +tree,' and can depose to a fact worth perhaps hundreds of pounds. He has +come in to be examined; he will be driven in a week or two's time from the +village to the railway station in a fly, and will talk about it and his +visit to London till the lamp of life dies out. + +A footman calls with a note, a groom brings another, the letters are +carelessly cast aside, till one of the juniors, who has been watching from +the peephole, reports that the chief clerk is coming, and everybody +scuttles back to his place. Callers come still more thickly; another +solicitor, well-to-do, and treated with the utmost deference; more +tradesmen; farmers; two or three auctioneers, in quick succession; the +well-brushed editor of a local paper; a second attorney, none too well +dressed, with scrubby chin and face suspiciously cloudy, with an odour of +spirits and water and tobacco clinging to his rusty coat. He belongs to a +disappearing type of country lawyer, and is the wreck, perhaps, of high +hopes and good opportunities. Yet, wreck as he is, when he gets up at the +Petty Sessions to defend some labourer, the bench of magistrates listen to +his maundering argument as deferentially as if he were a Q.C. They pity +him, and they respect his cloth. The scrubby attorney whistles a tune, and +utters an oath when he learns the principal is engaged. Then he marches +out, with his hat on one side of his head, to take another 'refresher.' + +Two telegrams arrive, and are thrown aside; then a gentleman appears, whom +the senior goes out to meet with an air of deference, and whom he actually +conducts himself upstairs to the principal's room. It is a local banker, +who is thus admitted to the directors' consultation. The slow hand of the +clock goes round, and, sitting wearily on the hard chair, you wonder if +ever it will be possible to see this much-sought man. By-and-by a door +opens above, there is a great sound of voices and chatting, and half a +dozen gentlemen--mostly landed proprietors from their appearance--come +downstairs. They are the directors, and the consultation is over. The +senior clerk immediately goes to the principal, and shortly afterwards +reappears and asks you to come up. + +As you mount the lead-covered stairs you glance down and observe the +anxious tradesman, the ancient labourer, and several others who have +crowded in, all eyeing you with jealous glances. But the senior is holding +the door open--you enter, and it closes noiselessly behind you. A hand +with a pen in it points to a chair, with a muttered 'Pardon--half a +moment' and while the solicitor just jots down his notes you can glance +round the apartment. Shelves of calf-bound law books; piles of japanned +deed-boxes, some marked in white letters 'Trustees of,' or 'Executors of' +and pigeon-holes full of papers seem to quite hide the walls. The floor is +covered with some material noiseless to walk on (the door, too, is double, +to exclude noise and draught); the furniture is solid and valuable; the +arm-chair you occupy capacious and luxurious. On the wall hangs a section +of the Ordnance map of the district. But the large table, which almost +fills the centre of the room, quickly draws the attention from everything +else. + +It is on that table that all the business is done; all the energies of the +place are controlled and directed from thence. At the first glance it +appears to support a more chaotic mass of papers. They completely conceal +it, except just at the edge. Bundles of letters tied with thin red tape, +letters loose, letters unopened; parchment deeds with the seals and +signature just visible; deeds with the top and the words, 'This +indenture,' alone glowing out from the confusion; deeds neatly folded; +broad manuscript briefs; papers fastened with brass fasteners; papers +hastily pinned together; old newspapers marked and underlined in red ink; +a large sectional map, half unrolled and hanging over the edge; a small +deed-box, the lid open, and full of blue paper in oblong strips; a tall +porcupine-quill pen sticking up like a spire; pocket-books; books open; +books with half a dozen papers in them for markers; altogether an utter +chaos. But the confusion is only apparent; the master mind knows the exact +position of every document, and can lay his hand on it the moment it is +wanted. + +The business is such that even the master mind can barely keep pace with +it. This great house can hardly contain it; all the clerks we saw rushing +about cannot get through the work, and much of the mechanical copying or +engrossing goes to London to be done. The entire round of country life +comes here. The rolling hills where the shepherd watches his flock, the +broad plains where the ploughman guides the share, the pleasant meadows +where the roan cattle chew the cud, the extensive parks, the shady woods, +sweet streams, and hedges overgrown with honeysuckle, all have their +written counterpart in those japanned deed-boxes. Solid as is the land +over which Hodge walks stolid and slow, these mere written words on +parchment are the masters of it all. The squire comes here about intricate +concerns of family settlements which in their sphere are as hard to +arrange as the diplomatic transactions of Governments. He comes about his +tenants and his rent; he comes to get new tenants. + +The tenants resort to the solicitor for farms, for improvements, +reductions, leases, to negotiate advances, to insure for the various +affairs of life. The clergyman comes on questions that arise out of his +benefice, the churchyard, ecclesiastical privileges, the schools, and +about his own private property. The labourer comes about his cottage and +garden--an estate as important to him as his three thousand acres to the +squire--or as a witness. The tradesman, the builder, the banker come for +financial as well as legal objects. As the town develops, and plots are +needed for houses and streets, the resort to the solicitor increases +tenfold. Companies are formed and require his advice. Local government +needs his assistance. He may sit in an official position in the County +Court, or at the bench of the Petty Sessions. Law suits--locally great-- +are carried through in the upper Courts of the metropolis; the counsel's +name appears in the papers, but it is the country solicitor who has +prepared everything for him, and who has marshalled that regiment of +witnesses from remote hamlets of the earth. His widening circle of +landlord clients have each their attendant circles of tenants, who feel +confidence in their leader's legal adviser. Parochial officers come to +him; overseer, rate-collector, church warden, tithing-man. The +all-important work of registering voters fills up the space between one +election and another. At the election his offices are like the +head-quarters of an army. He may represent some ancient college, or +corporation with lands of vast extent. Ladies with a little capital go +home content when he has invested their money in mortgage of real +property. Still the work goes on increasing; additional clerks have to be +employed; a fresh wing has to be built to the old house. He has, too, his +social duties; he is, perhaps, the head or mainspring of a church +movement--this is not for profit, but from conviction. His lady is carried +to and fro in the brougham, making social visits. He promotes athletic +clubs, reading-rooms, shows, exhibitions. He is eagerly seized upon by +promoters of all kinds, because he possesses the gift of organisation. It +becomes a labour merely to catalogue his engagements like this. Let the +rain rain, or the sun shine, the pen never stays work. + +Personally he is the very antithesis is of what might be predicated of the +slow, comfortable, old-fashioned lawyer. He is in the prime of life, +physically full of vigour, mentally persevering with untiring +perseverance, the embodiment of energy, ever anxious to act, to do rather +than to delay. As you talk with him you find his leading idea seems to be +to arrange your own half-formed views for you; in short, to show you what +you really do want, to put your desire into shape. He interprets you. Many +of the clients who come to him are the most impracticable men in the +world. A farmer, for instance, with a little money, is in search of a +farm. Find him twenty farms just the size for his capital, he will visit +them all and discover a fault in each, and waver and waver till the proper +season for entering on possession is past. The great problem with country +people is how to bring them to the point. You may think you have got all +your witnesses ready for the train for London, and, as the bell rings, +find that one has slipped away half a mile to talk with the blacksmith +about the shoeing of his mare. Even the squire is trying when, he talks of +this or that settlement. Of course, as he is educated, no lengthy and +oft-repeated explanations are needed; but the squire forgets that time is +valuable, and lingers merely to chat. He has so much time to spare, he is +apt to overlook that the solicitor has none. The clergyman will talk, +talk, talk in rounded periods, and nothing will stop him; very often he +drives his wife in with him from the village, and the wife must have her +say. As for Hodge and his mortgage, ten years would not suffice for his +business, were he allowed to wander on. The problem is to bring these +impracticable people to the point with perfect courtesy. As you talk with +him yourself, you feel tempted to prolong the interview--so lucid an +intellect exercises an indefinable charm. + +Keen and shrewd as he is, the solicitor has a kindly reputation. Men say +that he is slow to press them, that he makes allowances for circumstances; +that if the tenant is honestly willing to discharge his obligation he need +fear no arbitrary selling up. But he is equally reputed swift of +punishment upon those who would take shelter behind more shallow pretence, +or attempt downright deceit. Let a man only be straightforward, and the +solicitor will wait rather than put the law in force. Therefore, he is +popular, and people have faith in him. But the labour, the incessant +supervision, the jotting down of notes, the ceaseless interviews, the +arguments, the correspondence, the work that is never finished when night +comes, tell even upon that physical vigour and mental elasticity. Hodge +sleeps sound and sees the days go by with calm complacency. The man who +holds that solid earth, as it were, in the japanned boxes finds a nervous +feeling growing upon him despite his strength of will. Presently nature +will have her way; and, weary and hungry for fresh air, he rushes off for +awhile to distant trout-stream, moor, or stubble. + + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + + +'COUNTY-COURT DAY' + + +The monthly sitting of the County Court in a country market town is an +event of much interest in all the villages around, so many of the causes +concerning agricultural people. 'County-Court Day' is looked upon as a +date in the calendar by which to recollect when a thing happened, or to +arrange for the future. + +As the visitor enters the doorway of the Court, at a distance the scene +appears imposing. Brass railings and red curtains partition off about a +third of the hall, and immediately in the rear of this the Judge sits high +above the rest on a raised and carpeted dais. The elevation and isolation +of the central figure adds a solemn dignity to his office. His features +set, as it were, in the wig, stand out in sharp relief--they are of a +keenly intellectual cast, and have something of the precise clearness of +an antique cameo. The expression is that of a mind in continuous +exercise--of a mind accustomed not to slow but to quick deliberation, and +to instant decision. The definition of the face gives the eyes the aspect +of penetration, as if they saw at once beneath the surface of things. + +If the visitor looks only at the Judge he will realise the dignity of the +law; the law which is the outcome and result of so many centuries of +thought. But if he glances aside from the central figure the impression is +weakened by the miserable, hollow, and dingy framing. The carpet upon the +daïs and the red curtains before it ill conceal the paltry substructure. +It is composed of several large tables, heavy and shapeless as benches, +placed side by side to form a platform. The curtains are dingy and +threadbare the walls dingy; the ceiling, though lofty, dingy; the boxes on +either side for Plaintiff and Defendant are scratched and defaced by the +innumerable witnesses who have blundered into them, kicking their shoes +against the woodwork. The entire apparatus is movable, and can be taken to +pieces in ten minutes, or part of it employed for meetings of any +description. There is nothing appropriate or convenient; it is a +makeshift, and altogether unequal to the pretensions of a Court now +perhaps the most useful and most resorted to of any that sit in the +country. + +Quarter sessions and assizes come only at long intervals, are held only in +particular time-honoured places, and take cognisance only of very serious +offences which happily are not numerous. The County Court at the present +day has had its jurisdiction so enlarged that it is really, in country +districts, the leading tribunal, and the one best adapted to modern wants, +because its procedure is to a great extent free from obsolete forms and +technicalities. The Plaintiff and the Defendant literally face their +Judge, practically converse with him, and can tell their story in their +own simple and natural way. It is a fact that the importance and +usefulness of the country County Court has in most places far outgrown the +arrangements made for it. The Judges may with reason complain that while +their duties have been enormously added to, their convenience has not been +equally studied, nor their salaries correspondingly increased. + +In front, and below the Judge's desk, just outside the red curtain, is a +long and broad table, at which the High Bailiff sits facing the hall. By +his side the Registrar's clerk from time to time makes notes in a +ponderous volume which contains a minute and exact record of every claim. +Opposite, and at each end, the lawyers have their chairs and strew the +table with their papers. + +As a rule a higher class of lawyers appear in the County Court than before +the Petty Sessional Bench. A local solicitor of ability no sooner gets a +'conveyancing' practice than he finds his time too valuable to be spent +arguing in cases of assault or petty larceny. He ceases to attend the +Petty Sessions, unless his private clients are interested or some +exceptional circumstances induce him. In the County Court cases often +arise which concern property, houses and lands, and the fulfilment of +contracts. Some of the very best lawyers of the district may consequently +be seen at that table, and frequently a barrister or two of standing +specially retained is among them. + +A low wooden partition, crossing the entire width of the hall, separates +the 'bar' from the general public, Plaintiff and Defendant being admitted +through a gangway. As the hall is not carpeted, nor covered with any +material, a new-comer must walk on tip-toe to avoid raising the echo of +hollow boards, or run the risk of a reproof from the Judge, anxiously +endeavouring to catch the accents of a mumbling witness. Groups of people +stand near the windows whispering, and occasionally forgetting, in the +eagerness of the argument, that talking is prohibited. The room is already +full, but will be crowded when the 'horse case' comes on again. Nothing is +of so much interest as a 'horse case.' The issues raised concern almost +every countryman, and the parties are generally well known. All the idlers +of the town are here, and among them many a rascal who has been, through +the processes, and comes again to listen and possibly learn a dodge by +which to delay the execution of judgment. Some few of the more favoured +and respectable persons have obtained entrance to the space allotted to +the solicitors, and have planted themselves in a solid circle round the +fire, effectually preventing the heat from benefiting anyone else. Another +fire, carefully tended by a bailiff, burns in the grate behind the Judge, +but, as his seat is so far from it, without adding much to his comfort. A +chilly draught sweeps along the floor, and yet at the same time there is a +close and somewhat fetid atmosphere at the height at which men breathe. +The place is ill warmed and worse ventilated; altogether without +convenience, and comfortless. + +To-day the Judge, to suit the convenience of the solicitors engaged in the +'horse case,' who have requested permission to consult in private, has +asked for a short defended cause to fill up the interval till they are +ready to resume. The High Bailiff calls 'Brown _v_. Jones,' claim 8_s_. +for goods supplied. No one at first answers, but after several calls a +woman in the body of the Court comes forward. She is partly deaf, and +until nudged by her neighbours did not hear her husband's name. The +Plaintiff is a small village dealer in tobacco, snuff, coarse groceries, +candles, and so on. His wife looks after the little shop and he works with +horse and cart, hauling and doing odd jobs for the farmers. Instead of +attending himself he has sent his wife to conduct the case. The Defendant +is a labourer living in the same village, who, like so many of his class, +has got into debt. He, too, has sent his wife to represent him. This is +the usual course of the cottagers, and of agricultural people who are +better off than cottagers. The men shirk out of difficulties of this kind +by going off in the morning early to their work with the parting remark, +'Aw, you'd better see about it; I don't knaw nothing about such jobs.' + +The High Bailiff has no easy task to swear the Plaintiff's representative. +First, she takes the book and kisses it before the formula prescribed has +been repeated. Then she waits till the sentence is finished and lifts the +book with the left hand instead of the right. The Registrar's clerk has to +go across to the box and shout an explanation into her ear. 'Tell the +truth,' says the old lady, with alacrity; 'why, that's what I be come +for.' The Judge asks her what it is she claims, and she replies that that +man, the Registrar's clerk, has got it all written down in his book. She +then turns to the Defendant's wife, who stands in the box opposite, and +shouts to her, 'You knows you ain't paid it.' + +It is in vain that the Judge endeavours to question her, in vain that the +High Bailiff tries to calm her, in vain that the clerk lays his hand on +her arm--she is bent on telling the Defendant a bit of her mind. The Court +is perforce compelled to wait till it is over, when the Judge, seeing that +talking is of no avail, goes at once to the root of the matter and asks to +see her books. A dirty account-book, such as may be purchased for +threepence, is handed up to him; the binding is broken, and some of the +leaves are loose. It is neither a day-book, a ledger, nor anything +else--there is no system whatever, and indeed the Plaintiff admits that +she only put down about half of it, and trusted to memory for the rest. +Here is a date, and after it some figures, but no articles mentioned, +neither tea nor candles. Next come some groceries, and the price, but no +one's name, so that it is impossible to tell who had the goods. Then there +are pages with mysterious dots and strokes and half-strokes, which +ultimately turn out to mean ounces and half-ounces of tobacco. These have +neither name nor value attached. From end to end nothing is crossed off, +so that whether an account be paid or not cannot be ascertained. + +While the Judge laboriously examines every page, trying by the light of +former experience to arrive at some idea of the meaning, the Defendant's +wife takes up her parable. She chatters in return at the Plaintiff, then +she addresses the High Bailiff, who orders her to remain quiet, and, +finally, turns round and speaks to the crowd. The Judge, absorbed in the +attempt to master the account-book, does not for the moment notice this, +till, as he comes to the conclusion that the book is utterly valueless, he +looks up and finds the Defendant with her back turned gesticulating and +describing her wrongs to the audience. Even his command of silence is with +reluctance obeyed, and she continues to mutter to herself. When order is +restored the Judge asks for her defence, when the woman immediately +produces a receipt, purporting to be for this very eight shillings' worth. +At the sight of this torn and dirty piece of paper the Plaintiff works +herself into a fury, and speaks so fast and so loud (as deaf people will) +that no one else can be heard. Till she is made to understand that she +will be sent out of Court she does not desist. The Judge looks at the +receipt, and finds it correct; but still the Plaintiff positively declares +that she has never had the money. Yet she admits that the receipt is in +her handwriting. The Judge asks the Defendant who paid over the cash, and +she replies that it was her husband. The account-book contains no +memorandum of any payment at all. With difficulty the Judge again obtains +silence, and once more endeavours to understand a page of the account-book +to which the Plaintiff persists in pointing. His idea is now to identify +the various articles mentioned in the receipt with the articles put down +on that particular page. + +After at least three-quarters of an hour, during which the book is handed +to and fro by the clerk from Judge to Plaintiff, that she may explain the +meaning of the hieroglyphics, some light at last begins to dawn. By dint +of patiently separating the mixed entries the Judge presently arrives at a +partial comprehension of what the Plaintiff has been trying to convey. The +amount of the receipted bill and the amount of the entries in the page of +the account-book are the same; but the articles entered in the book and +those admitted to be paid for are not. The receipt mentions candles; the +account-book has no candles. Clearly they are two different debts, which +chanced to come to the same figure. The receipt, however, is not dated, +and whether it is the Defendant who is wilfully misrepresenting, or +whether the Plaintiff is under a mistaken notion, the Judge for the time +cannot decide. The Defendant declares that she does not know the date and +cannot fix it--it was a 'main bit ago,' and that is all she can say. + +For the third time the Judge, patient to the last degree, wades through +the account-book. Meanwhile the hands of the clock have moved on. Instead +of being a short case, this apparently simple matter has proved a long +one, and already as the afternoon advances the light of the dull winter's +day declines. The solicitors engaged in the 'horse case,' who retired to +consult, hoping to come to a settlement, returned into Court fully an hour +ago, and have since been sitting at the table waiting to resume. Besides +these some four or five other lawyers of equal standing are anxiously +looking for a chance of commencing their business. All their clients are +waiting, and the witnesses; they have all crowded into the Court, the +close atmosphere of which is almost intolerable. + +But having begun the case the Judge gives it his full and undivided +attention. Solicitors, clients, witnesses, cases that interest the public, +causes that concern valuable property, or important contracts must all be +put aside till this trifling matter is settled. He is as anxious as any, +or more so, to get on, because delay causes business to accumulate--the +adjourned causes, of course, having to be heard at next Court, and thus +swelling the list to an inordinate length. But, impatient as he may be, +especially as he is convinced that one or other of the parties is keeping +back a part of the truth, he is determined that the subject shall be +searched to the bottom. The petty village shopkeeper and the humble +cottager obtain as full or fuller attention than the well-to-do Plaintiffs +and Defendants who can bring down barristers from London. + +'What have you there?' the Registrar's clerk demands of the Plaintiff +presently. She has been searching in her pocket for a snuff-box wherewith +to refresh herself, and, unable to immediately discover it, has emptied +the contents of the pocket on the ledge of the witness-box. Among the rest +is another little account-book. + +'Let me see that,' demands the Judge, rather sharply, and no wonder. 'Why +did you not produce it before?' + +'Aw, he be last year's un; some of it be two years ago,' is the reply. + +Another long pause. The Judge silently examines every page of the +account-book two years old. Suddenly he looks up. 'This receipt,' he says, +'was given for an account rendered eighteen months ago. Here in this older +book are the entries corresponding with it. The present claim is for a +second series of articles which happened to come to the same amount, and +the Defendant, finding that the receipt was not dated, has endeavoured to +make it do duty for the two.' + +'I tould you so,' interrupts the Plaintiff. 'I tould you so, but you +wouldn't listen to I.' + +The Judge continues that he is not sure he ought not to commit the +Defendant, and then, with a gesture of weary disgust, throws down his pen +and breaks off in the middle of his sentence to ask the High Bailiff if +there are any other judgments out against the Defendant. So many years' +experience of the drifts, subterfuges, paltry misrepresentations and +suppressions--all the mean and despicable side of poor humanity--have +indeed wearied him, but, at the same time, taught forbearance. He +hesitates to be angry, and delays to punish. The people are poor, +exceedingly poor. The Defendant's wife says she has eight children; they +are ignorant, and, in short, cannot be, in equity, judged as others in +better circumstances. There are two other judgments against the Defendant, +who is earning about 12s. a week, and the verdict is 1s. a month, first +payment that day three weeks. + +Then the solicitor for the Plaintiff in the 'horse case' rises and informs +the Judge that the parties cannot settle it, and the case must proceed. +The Plaintiff and Defendant take their places, and some thirty witnesses +file through the gangway to the witness-room to be out of Court. The +bailiffs light the gas as the gloom deepens, and the solicitor begins his +opening speech. The Judge has leant back in his chair, closed his eyes, +and composed himself to listen. By the time two witnesses have been +examined the hour has arrived when the Judge can sit no longer. He must +leave, because on the morrow he has to hold a Court in another part of the +county. The important 'horse case' and the other causes must wait a +month.. He sits to the very last moment, then hastily stuffs deeds, +documents, papers of all descriptions into a portmanteau already +overflowing, and rushes to his carriage. + +He will go through much the same work to-morrow; combating the irritating +misrepresentations, exposing suppressors, discovering the truth under a +mountain of crass stupidity and wilful deceit. Next day he will be again +at work; and the same process will go on the following week. In the month +there are perhaps about five days--exclusive of Sundays--upon which he +does not sit. But those days are not holidays. They are spent in patiently +reading a mass of deeds, indentures, contracts, vouchers, affidavits, +evidence of every description and of the most voluminous character. These +have been put in by solicitors, as part of their cases, and require the +most careful attention. Besides causes that are actually argued out in +open Court, there are others which, by consent of both parties, are placed +in his hands as arbitrator. Many involve nice points of law, and require a +written judgment in well-chosen words. + +The work of the County Court Judge at the present day is simply enormous; +it is ceaseless and never finished, and it demands a patience which +nothing can ruffle. No matter how much falsehood may annoy him, a Judge +with arbitrary power entrusted to him must not permit indignation alone to +govern his decision. He must make allowances for all. + +For the County Court in country districts has become a tribunal whose +decisions enter, as it were, into the very life of the people. It is not +concerned with a few important cases only; it has to arrange and finally +settle what are really household affairs. Take any village, and make +inquiries how many householders there are who have not at one time or +other come under the jurisdiction of the County Court? Either as +Plaintiff, or Defendant, or as witness, almost every one has had such +experience, and those who have not have been threatened with it. Beside +those defended cases that come before the Judge, there are hundreds upon +hundreds of petty claims, to which no defence is offered, and which are +adjudicated upon by the Registrar at the same time that the Judge hears +the defended causes. + +The labourer, like so many farmers in a different way, lives on credit and +is perpetually in debt. He purchases his weekly goods on the security of +hoeing, harvest, or piece work, and his wages are continually absorbed in +payment of instalments, just as the tenant-farmer's income is too often +absorbed in the payment of interest and instalments of his loans. No one +seems ever to pay without at least a threat of the County Court, which +thus occupies a position like a firm appointed to perpetually liquidate a +vast estate. It is for ever collecting shillings and half-crowns. + + +This is one aspect of the County Court; the other is its position with +respect to property. It is the great arbitrator of property--of houses and +land, and deeds and contracts. Of recent years the number of the owners of +land has immensely increased--that is, of small pieces--and the litigation +has correspondingly grown. There is enough work for a man of high legal +ability in settling causes of this character alone, without any 'horse +case' with thirty witnesses, or any dispute that involves the conflict of +personal testimony. + + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + + +THE BANK. THE OLD NEWSPAPER + + +The most imposing building in a certain country market town is the old +Bank, so called familiarly to distinguish it from the new one. The +premises of the old Bank would be quite unapproached in grandeur, locally, +were it not for the enterprise of the new establishment. Nothing could be +finer than the façade of the old Bank, which stands out clear and elegant +in its fresh paint among the somewhat dingy houses and shops of the main +street. It is rather larger in size, more lofty, and has the advantage of +being a few yards nearer to the railway station. But the rival institution +runs it very close. It occupies a corner on the very verge of the +market-place--its door facing the farmer as he concludes his deal--and it +is within a minute of the best hotels, where much business is done. It is +equally white and clean with fresh paint, and equally elegant in design. + +A stranger, upon a nice consideration of the circumstances, might find a +difficulty in deciding on which to bestow his patronage; and perhaps the +chief recommendation of the old establishment lies in the fact that it is +the older of the two. The value of antiquity was never better understood +than in these modern days. Shrewd men of business have observed that the +quality of being ancient is the foundation of credit. Men believe in that +which has been long established. Their fathers dealt there, they deal +themselves, and if a new-comer takes up his residence he is advised to do +likewise. + +A visitor desirous of looking on the outside, at least of country banking, +would naturally be conducted to the old Bank. If it were an ordinary day, +_i.e._ not a market or fair, he might stand on the pavement in front +sunning himself without the least inconvenience from the passenger +traffic. He would see, on glancing Up and down the street, one or two aged +cottage women going in or out of the grocer's, a postman strolling round, +and a distant policeman at the farthest corner. A sprinkling of boys +playing marbles at the side of the pavement, and two men loading a waggon +with sacks of flour from a warehouse, complete the scene as far as human +life is concerned. There are dogs basking on doorsteps, larger dogs +rambling with idleness in the slow sway of their tails, and overhead black +swifts (whose nests are in the roofs of the higher houses) dash to and +fro, uttering their shrill screech. + +The outer door of the bank is wide open--fastened back--ostentatiously +open, and up the passage another mahogany door, closed, bears a polished +brazen plate with the word 'Manager' engraved upon it. Everything within +is large and massive. The swing door itself yields with the slow motion of +solidity, and unless you are agile as it closes in the rear, thrusts you +forward like a strong gale. The apartment is large and lofty: there is +room for a crowd, but at present there is no one at the counter. It is +long enough and broad enough for the business of twenty customers at once; +so broad that the clerks on the other side are beyond arm's reach. But +they have shovels with which to push the gold towards you, and in a small +glass stand is a sponge kept constantly damp, across which the cashier +draws his finger as he counts the silver, the slight moisture enabling him +to sort the coin more swiftly. + +The fittings are perfect, as perfect as in a London bank, and there is an +air of extreme precision. Yonder open drawers are full of pass-books; upon +the desks and on the broad mantelpiece are piles of cheques, not scattered +in disorder but arranged in exact heaps. The very inkstands are heavy and +vast, and you just catch a glimpse round the edge of the semi-sentry box +which guards the desk of the chief cashier, of a ledger so huge that the +mind can hardly realise the extent of the business which requires such +ponderous volumes to record it. Then beyond these a glass door, half open, +apparently leads to the manager's room, for within it is a table strewn +with papers, and you can see the green-painted iron wall of a safe. + +The clerks, like the place, are somewhat imposing; they are in no hurry, +they allow you time to look round you and imbibe the sense of awe which +the magnificent mahogany counter and the brazen fittings, all the +evidences of wealth, are so calculated to inspire. The hollow sound of +your footstep on the floor does not seem heard; the slight 'Ahem!' you +utter after you have waited a few moments attracts no attention, nor the +rustling of your papers. The junior clerks are adding up column after +column of figures, and are totally absorbed; the chief cashier is +pondering deeply over a letter and annotating it. By-and-by he puts it +down, and slowly approaches. But after you have gone through the +preliminary ceremony of waiting, which is an institution of the place, the +treatment quite changes. Your business is accomplished with practised +ease, any information you may require is forthcoming on the instant, and +deft fingers pass you the coin. In brief, the whole machinery of banking +is here as complete as in Lombard Street. The complicated ramifications of +commercial transactions are as well understood and as closely studied as +in the 'City.' No matter what your wishes, provided, of course, that your +credentials are unimpeachable, they will be conducted for you +satisfactorily and without delay. + +Yet the green meadows are within an arrow shot, and standing on the +threshold and looking down a cross street you can see the elms of the +hedgerows closing in the prospect. It is really wonderful that such +conveniences should he found in so apparently insignificant a place. The +intelligence and courtesy of the officials is most marked. It is clear, +upon reflection, that such intelligence, such manners, and knowledge not +only of business but of men (for a banker and a banker's agent has often +to judge at a moment's notice whether a man be a rogue or honest), cannot +be had for nothing. They must be paid for, and, in so far at least as the +heads are concerned, paid liberally. It is known that the old Bank has +often paid twenty and twenty-five per cent, to its shareholders. Where +does all this money come from? From Hodge, toiling in the field and +earning his livelihood in the sweat of his brow? One would hardly think so +at first, and yet there are no great businesses or manufactories here. +Somehow or other the money that pays for this courtesy and commercial +knowledge, for these magnificent premises and furniture, that pays the +shareholders twenty-five per cent., must be drawn from the green meadows, +the cornfields, and the hills where the sheep feed. + +On an ordinary day the customers that come to the bank's counter may be +reckoned on the fingers. Early in the morning the Post-Office people come +for their cash and change; next, some of the landlords of the principal +inns with their takings; afterwards, such of the tradesmen as have cheques +to pay in. Later on the lawyers' clerks, or the solicitors themselves drop +in; in the latter case for a chat with the manager. A farmer or two may +call, especially on a Friday, for the cash to pay the labourers next day, +and so the morning passes. In the afternoon one or more of the local +gentry or clergy may drive up or may not--it is a chance either way--and +as the hour draws near for closing some of the tradesmen come hurrying in +again. Then the day, so far as the public are concerned, is over. +To-morrow sees the same event repeated. + +On a market-day there is a great bustle; men hustle in and out, with a +bluff disregard of conventional politeness, but with no intention of +rudeness. Through the open doors comes the lowing of cattle, and the +baaing of sheep; the farmers and dealers that crowd in and out bring with +them an odour of animals that exhales from their garments. The clerks are +now none too many, the long broad counter none too large; the resources of +the establishment are taxed to the utmost. The manager is there in person, +attending to the more important customers. + +In the crush are many ladies who would find their business facilitated by +coming on a different day. But market-day is a tradition with all classes; +even the gentry appear in greater numbers. If you go forth into the +Market-place you will find it thronged with farmers. If you go into the +Corn Hall or Exchange, where the corndealers have their stands, and where +business in cereals and seeds is transacted; if you walk across to the +auction yard for cattle, or to the horse depository, where an auction of +horses is proceeding; everywhere you have to push your way through groups +of agriculturists. The hotels are full of them (the stable-yards full of +their various conveyances), and the restaurant, the latest innovation in +country towns, is equally filled with farmers taking a chop, and the inner +rooms with ladies discussing coffee and light refreshments. + +Now every farmer of all this crowd has his cheque-book in the breast +pocket of his coat. Let his business be what it may, the purchase of +cattle, sheep, horses, or implements, seed, or any other necessary, no +coin passes. The parties, if the transaction be private, adjourn to their +favourite inn, and out comes the cheque-book. If a purchase be effected at +either of the auctions proceeding it is paid for by cheque, and, on the +other hand, should the farmer be the vendor, his money comes to him in the +shape of a cheque. With the exception of his dinner and the ostler, the +farmer who comes to market carries on all his transactions with paper. The +landlord of the hotel takes cash for the dinner, and the ostler takes his +shilling. For the rest, it is all cheques cheques, cheques; so that the +whole business of agriculture, from the purchase of the seed to the sale +of the crop, passes through the bank. + +The toll taken by the bank upon such transactions as simple buying and +selling is practically _nil_; its profit is indirect. But besides the +indirect profit there is the direct speculation of making advances at high +interest, discounting bills, and similar business. It might almost be said +that the crops are really the property of the local banks, so large in the +aggregate are the advances made upon them. The bank has, in fact, to study +the seasons, the weather, the probable market prices, the import of grain +and cattle, and to keep an eye upon the agriculture of the world. The +harvest and the prices concern it quite as much as the actual farmer who +tills the soil. In good seasons, with a crop above the average, the +business of the bank expands in corresponding ratio. The manager and +directors feel that they can advance with confidence; the farmer has the +means to pay. In bad seasons and with short crops the farmer is more +anxious than ever to borrow; but the bank is obliged to contract its +sphere of operations. + +It usually happens that one or more of the directors of a country bank are +themselves farmers in a large way--gentlemen farmers, but with practical +knowledge. They are men whose entire lives have been spent in the +locality, and who have a very wide circle of acquaintances and friends +among agriculturists. Their forefathers were stationed there before them, +and thus there has been an accumulation of local knowledge. They not only +thoroughly understand the soil of the neighbourhood, and can forecast the +effect of particular seasons with certainty, but they possess an intimate +knowledge of family history, what farmer is in a bad way, who is doubtful, +or who has always had a sterling reputation. An old-established country +bank has almost always one or more such confidential advisers. Their +assistance is invaluable. + +Since agriculture became in this way, through the adoption of banking, so +intimately connected with commerce, it has responded, like other +businesses, to the fluctuations of trade. The value of money in +Threadneedle Street affects the farmer in an obscure hamlet a hundred +miles away, whose fathers knew nothing of money except as a coin, a token +of value, and understood nothing of the export or import of gold. The +farmer's business is conducted through the bank, but, on the other hand, +the bank cannot restrict its operations to the mere countryside. It is +bound up in every possible manner with the vast institutions of the +metropolis. Its private profits depend upon the rate of discount and the +tone of the money market exactly in the same way as with those vast +institutions. A difficulty, a crisis there is immediately felt by the +country bank, whose dealings with its farmer customers are in turn +affected. + +Thus commerce acts upon agriculture. _Per contra_, the tradesmen of the +town who go to the bank every morning would tell you with doleful faces +that the condition of agriculture acts upon trade in a most practical +manner. Neither the farmer, nor the farmer's wife and family expend nearly +so much as they did at their shops, and consequently the sums they carry +over to the bank are much diminished in amount. The local country +tradesman probably feels the depression of agriculture all but as much as +the farmer himself. The tradesman is perhaps supported by the bank; if he +cannot meet his liabilities the bank is compelled to withdraw that +support. + +Much of this country banking seems to have grown up in very recent times. +Any elderly farmer out yonder in the noisy market would tell you that in +his young days when he first did business he had to carry coin with him, +especially if at a distance from home. It was then the custom to attend +markets and fairs a long way off, such markets being centres where the +dealers and drovers brought cattle. The dealers would accept nothing but +cash; they would not have looked at a cheque had such a thing been +proffered them. This old Bank prides itself upon the reputation it +enjoyed, even in those days. It had the power of issuing notes, and these +notes were accepted by such men, even at a great distance, the bank having +so good a name. They were even preferred to the notes of the Bank of +England, which at one time, in outlying country places, were looked on +with distrust, a state of things which seems almost incredible to the +present generation. + +In those days men had no confidence. That mutual business understanding, +the credit which is the basis of all commerce of the present time, did not +exist. Of course this only applies to the country and to country trading; +the business men of cities were years in advance of the agriculturists in +this respect. But so good was the reputation of the old Bank, even in +those times, that its notes were readily accepted. It is, indeed, +surprising what a reputation some of the best of the country banks have +achieved. Their names are scarcely seen in the money articles of the daily +press. But they do a solid business of great extent, and their names in +agricultural circles are names of power. So the old Bank here, though +within an arrow shot of the green meadows, though on ordinary days a +single clerk might attend to its customers, has really a valuable +_clientèle._ + +Of late years shrewd men of business discovered that the ranks of the +British farmer offered a wonderful opportunity for legitimate banking. The +farmer, though he may not be rich, must of necessity be the manager, if +not the actual owner, of considerable capital. A man who farms, if only a +hundred acres, must have some capital. It may not be his own--it may be +borrowed; still he has the use of it. Here, then, a wide field opened +itself to banking enterprise. Certainly there has been a remarkable +extension of banking institutions in the country. Every market town has +its bank, and in most cases two--branches of course, but banks to all +intents and purposes. Branches are started everywhere. + +The new Bank in this particular little town is not really new. It is +simply a branch set up by a well-established bank whose original centre +may perhaps be in another county. It is every whit as respectable as the +other, and as well conducted. Its branch as yet lacks local antiquity, but +that is the only difference. The competition for the farmer's business +between these branches, scattered all over the length and breadth of the +country, must of necessity be close. When the branch, or new Bank, came +here, it was started in grand premises specially erected for it, in the +most convenient situation that could be secured. + +Till then the business of the old Bank had been carried on in a small and +dingy basement. The room was narrow, badly lit, and still worse +ventilated, so that on busy days both the clerks and the customers +complained of the stuffy atmosphere. The ancient fittings had become worn +and defaced; the ceiling was grimy; the conveniences in every way +defective. When it was known that a new branch was to be opened the +directors of the old Bank resolved that the building, which had so long +been found inadequate, should be entirely renovated. They pulled it down, +and the present magnificent structure took its place. + +Thus this little country town now possesses two banks, whose façades could +hardly be surpassed in a city. There is perhaps a little rivalry between +the managers of the two institutions, in social as well as in business +matters. Being so long established there the old Bank numbers among its +customers some of the largest landed proprietors, the leading clergy, and +solicitors. The manager coming into contact with these, and being himself +a man of intelligence, naturally occupies a certain position. If any +public movement is set on foot, the banks strive as to which shall be most +to the fore, and, aided by its antiquity, the old Bank, perhaps, secures a +social precedence. Both managers belong to the 'carriage people' of the +town. + +Hodge comes into the place, walking slowly behind cattle or sheep, or +jolting in on a waggon. His wife comes, too, on foot, through the roughest +weather, to fetch her household goods. His daughter comes into the hiring +fair, and stands waiting for employment on the pavement in the same spot +used for the purpose from time immemorial, within sight of the stately +façades of the banks. He himself has stood in the market-place with +reaping hook or hoe looking for a master. Humble as he may be, it is clear +that the wealth in those cellars--the notes and the gold pushed over the +counters in shovels--must somehow come from the labour which he and his +immediate employer--the farmer--go through in the field. + +It is becoming more and more the practice for the carter, or shepherd, who +desires a new situation, to advertise. Instead of waiting for the chance +of the hiring fair, he trudges into the market town and calls at the +office of the oldest established local paper. There his wishes are reduced +to writing for him, he pays his money, and his advertisement appears. If +there is an farmer advertising for a man, as is often the case, he at the +same time takes the address, and goes over to offer his services. The +farmer and the labourer alike look to the advertisement columns as the +medium between them. + +The vitality and influence of the old-fashioned local newspaper is indeed +a remarkable feature of country life. It would be thought that in these +days of cheap literature, these papers, charging twopence, threepence, and +even fourpence per copy, could not possibly continue to exist. But, +contrary to all expectation, they have taken quite a fresh start, and +possess a stronger hold than ever upon the agricultural population. They +enter into the old homesteads, and every member of the farmer's family +carefully scans them, certain of finding a reference to this or that +subject or person in whom he takes an interest. + +Some such papers practically defy competition. In the outlying towns, +where no factories have introduced a new element, it is vain for the most +enterprising to start another. The squire, the clergyman, the lawyer, the +tenant-farmer, the wayside innkeeper stick to the old weekly paper, and +nothing can shake it. It is one of the institutions of agriculture. + +The office is, perhaps, in a side street of the quiet market-town, and +there is no display to catch the casual purchaser. No mystery surrounds +the editor's sanctum; the visitor has but to knock, and is at once +admitted to his presence. An office could scarcely be more plainly +furnished. A common table, which has, however, one great virtue--it does +not shake when written on--occupies the centre. Upon one side is a large +desk or bureau; the account-books lying open show that the editor, besides +his literary labour, has to spend much time in double entry. Two chairs +are so completely hidden under 'exchanges' that no one can sit upon them. +Several of these 'exchanges' are from the United States or Australia, for +the colonists are often more interested and concerned about local affairs +in the old country than they are with the doings in the metropolis. +Against the wall, too, hangs a picture of a fine steamer careering under +sail and steam, and near it a coloured sectional map of some new township +marked out in squares. These are the advertisements of an Atlantic or +Australian line, or of both; and the editor is their agent. When the young +ploughman resolves to quit the hamlet for the backwoods of America or the +sheepwalks of Australia, he comes here to engage his berth. When the young +farmer wearies of waiting for dead men's shoes--in no other way can he +hope to occupy an English farm--he calls here and pays his passage-money, +and his broad shoulders and willing hands are shipped to a land that will +welcome him. A single shelf supports a few books, all for reference, such +as the 'Clergy List,' for the Church is studied, and the slightest change +that concerns the district carefully recorded. + +Beneath this, the ponderous volumes that contain the file of the paper for +the last forty years are piled, their weight too great for a shelf resting +on the floor. The series constitutes a complete and authentic local +history. People often come from a distance to consult it, for it is the +only register that affords more than the simple entry of birth and death. + +There is a life in the villages and hamlets around, in the little places +that are not even hamlets, which to the folk who dwell in them is fully as +important as that of the greatest city. Farmhouses are not like the villas +of cities and city suburbs. The villa has hardly any individuality; it is +but one of many, each resembling the other, and scarcely separated. To-day +one family occupies it, tomorrow another, next year perhaps a third, and +neither of these has any real connection with the place. They are +sojourners, not inhabitants, drawn thither by business or pleasure; they +come and go, and leave no mark behind. But the farmhouse has a history. +The same family have lived in it for, perhaps, a hundred years: they have +married and intermarried, and become identified with the locality. To them +all the petty events of village life have a meaning and importance: the +slow changes that take place and are chronicled in the old newspaper have +a sad significance, for they mark that flux of time which is carrying +them, too, onwards to their rest. + +These columns of the file, therefore, that to a stranger seem a blank, to +the old folk and their descendants are like a mirror, in which they can +see the faces of the loved ones who passed away a generation since. They +are the archives of the hamlets round about: a farmer can find from them +when his grandfather quitted the old farm, and read an account of the +sale. Men who left the village in their youth for the distant city or the +still more distant colonies, as they grow in years often feel an +irresistible desire to revisit the old, old place. The home they so fondly +recollect is in other hands, and yet in itself but little changed. A few +lines in the plainest language found in the file here tell to such a +greybeard a story that fills his eyes with tears. But even a stranger who +took the trouble to turn over the folios would now and then find matter to +interest him: such as curious notes of archaeological discovery, accounts +of local customs now fallen into disuse, and traditions of the past. Many +of these are worthy of collection in more accessible form. + +There is hardly anything else in the room except the waste basket under +the table. As the visitor enters, a lad goes out with a roll of manuscript +in his hand, and the editor looks up from his monotonous task of +proof-reading, for he has that duty also to perform. Whatever he is doing, +some one is certain to call and break off the thread of his thought. The +bailiff or farm-steward of a neighbouring estate comes in to insert an +advertisement of timber for sale, or of the auction of the ash-poles +annually felled. A gamekeeper calls with a notice not to sport or trespass +on certain lands. The editor has to write out the advertisement for these +people, and for many of the farmers who come, for countrymen have the +greatest dislike to literary effort of any kind, and can hardly be +persuaded to write a letter. Even when they have written the letter they +get the daughter to address the envelope, lest the Post Office should +smile at their rude penmanship. The business of preparing the +advertisement is not quickly concluded, for just as it is put down to +their fancy, they recollect another item which has to be added. Then they +stand and gossip about the family at the mansion and the affairs of the +parish generally, totally oblivious of the valuable time they are wasting. +Farmers look in to advertise a cottage or a house in the village to let, +and stay to explain the state of the crops, and the why and the wherefore +of So-and-so leaving his tenancy. + +The largest advertisers invariably put off their orders till the morning +of the paper going to press, from sheer inattention. On that busy morning, +auctioneers' clerks rush in with columns of auction sales of cattle, +sheep, horses, hay, or standing crops (according to the season of the +year), and every species of farm produce. After them come the solicitors' +clerks, with equally important and lengthy notices of legal matters +concerning the effects of farmers who have fallen into difficulties, of +parochial or turnpike affairs, or 'Pursuant to an Act intitled "An Act to +further amend the Law and to Relieve Trustees."' These notices have been +lying on their desks for days, but are perversely sent down at the last +moment, and upset the entire make-up of the paper. + +Just as the editor has arranged for these, and is in the act to rush up +into the press-room, a timid knock announces a poor cottage girl, who has +walked in from a hamlet six or seven miles away to inquire the address of +a lady who wants a servant. This advertisement appeared at least three +weeks since, for country folk could in no wise make up their minds to +apply under three weeks, and necessitates a search back through the file, +and a reference to divers papers. He cannot in common courtesy leave the +poor girl to wait his convenience, and meantime the steam is up and the +machine waiting. When the address is discovered, the girl thinks she +cannot remember it, and so he has to write it down on a piece of paper for +her. + +He has no highly organised staff to carry on the routine work; he has to +look after every department as well as the purely editorial part. Almost +every one who has a scrap of news or gossip looks in at the office to chat +about it with him. Farmers, who have driven in to the town from distant +villages, call to tell him of the trouble they are having over the new +schools, and the conflict in the parish as to whether they shall or shall +not have a school board. Clergymen from outlying vicarages come to mention +that a cottage flower show, a penny reading, a confirmation, or some such +event, is impending, and to suggest the propriety of a full and special +account. Occasionally a leading landed proprietor is closeted with him, +for at least an hour, discussing local politics, and ascertaining from him +the tone of feeling in the district. + +Modern agricultural society insists upon publicity. The smallest village +event must be chronicled, or some one will feel dissatisfied, and inquire +why it was not put in the paper. This continual looking towards the paper +for everything causes it to exercise a very considerable amount of +influence. Perhaps the clergy and gentry are in some things less powerful +than the local newspaper, for, from a variety of causes, agricultural +society has become extremely sensitive to public opinion. The temperate +and thoughtful arguments put forward by a paper in which they have +confidence directly affect the tenant-farmers. On the other hand, as +expressing the views of the tenant-farmers, the paper materially +influences the course taken by the landed proprietors. + +In country districts the mere numerical circulation of a weekly +publication is no measure of its importance. The position of the +subscribers is the true test. These old-established papers, in fact, +represent property. They are the organs of all who possess lands, houses, +stock, produce; in short, of the middle class. This is evident from the +advertising columns. The lawyer, the auctioneer, the land agent, the +farmer, all who have any substance, publish their business in this medium. +Official county advertisements appear in it. The carter and the shepherd +look down the column of situations vacant as they call at the village inn +for a glass of ale, or, if they cannot read, ask some one to read for +them. But they do not purchase this kind of newspaper. The cottager spells +over prints advocating the disestablishment of the Church, the division of +great estates, and the general subversion of the present order of things. +Yet when the labourer advertises, he goes to the paper subscribed to by +his master. The disappearance of such an obsolete and expensive paper is +frequently announced as imminent; but the obsolete and expensive print, +instead of disappearing, nourishes with renewed vitality. Solid matter, +temperate argument, and genuine work, in the long ran, pay the best. An +editor who thus conducts his paper is highly appreciated by the local +chiefs of his party, and may even help to contribute to the success of an +Administration. + +The personal labour involved in such editing must be great from the +absence of trained assistance, and because the materials must be furnished +by incompetent hands. Local news must be forwarded by local people, +perhaps by a village tailor with literary tastes. Such correspondents +often indulge in insinuations, or fulsome flattery, which must be +carefully eliminated. From another village an account of some event comes +from the schoolmaster--quite an important person nowadays!--who writes in +a fair, round hand and uses the finest language and the longest words. He +invariably puts 'hebdomadal' for 'weekly.' A lawyer's clerk writes a +narrative of some case, on blue foolscap, and, after the manner of legal +documents, without a single stop from beginning to end. + +Once a year comes the labour of preparing the sheet almanac. This useful +publication is much valued by the tenants of the district, and may be +found pinned against the wall for ready reference in most farmhouses. +Besides the calendar it contains a list of county and other officials, +dates of quarter sessions and assizes, fair days and markets, records of +the prices obtained at the annual sales of rams or shorthorns on leading +farms, and similar agricultural information. + +The editor has very likely been born in the district, and has thus grown +up to understand the wants and the spirit of the farming class. He is +acquainted with the family history of the neighbourhood, a knowledge which +is of much advantage in enabling him to avoid unnecessarily irritating +personal susceptibilities. His private library is not without interest. It +mainly consists of old books picked up at the farmhouse sales of thirty +years. At such disposals of household effects volumes sometimes come to +light that have been buried for generations among lumber. Many of these +books are valuable and all worth examination. A man of simple and retiring +habits, his garden is perhaps his greatest solace, and next to that a +drive or stroll through the green meadows around. Incessant mental labour +has forced him to wear glasses before his time, and it is a relief and +pleasure to the eyes to dwell on green sward and leaf. Such a man performs +a worthy part in country life, and possesses the esteem of the country +side. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + + +THE VILLAGE FACTORY. VILLAGE VISITORS. WILLOW-WORK + + +In the daytime the centre of a certain village may be said to be the shop +of the agricultural machinist. The majority of the cottagers are away in +the fields at work, and the place is elsewhere almost quiet. A column of +smoke and a distant din guide the visitor to the spot where the hammers +are clattering on the anvils. + +Twisted iron, rusty from exposure, lies in confusion on the blackened +ground before the shed. Coal-dust and the carbon deposited from volumes of +thick smoke have darkened the earth, and coated everything with a black +crust. The windows of the shed are broken, probably by the accidental +contact of long rods of iron carelessly cast aside, and some of the slates +of the roof appear gone just above the furnace, as if removed for +ventilation and the escape of the intense heat. There is a creaking of +stiff leather as the bellows rise and fall, and the roar of the blast as +it is forced up through the glowing coals. + +A ceaseless hum of wheels in motion comes from the rear, and the peculiar +crackling sound of a band in rapid revolution round the drum of the engine +and the shaft. Then the grinding scrape of sharp steel on iron as the edge +of the tool cuts shavings from the solid metal rotating swiftly in the +lathe. As blow follows blow the red-hot 'scale,' driven from the surface +of the iron on the anvil by the heavy sledge, flies rattling against the +window in a spray of fire. The ring of metal, the clatter, the roaring, +and hissing of steam, fill the air, and through it rises now and then the +shrill quick calls of men in command. + +Outside, and as it seems but a stone's throw distant, stands the old grey +church, and about it the still, silent, green-grown mounds over those who +once followed the quiet plough. + +Bound the corner of the village street comes a man with a grimy red flag, +and over the roofs of the cottages rises a cloud of smoke, and behind it +yet another. Two steam ploughing engines are returning from their work to +their place beside the shed to wait fresh orders. The broad wheels of the +engines block up the entire width of the street, and but just escape +overthrowing the feeble palings in front of the cottage doors. Within +those palings the children at play scarcely turn to look; the very infants +that can hardly toddle are so accustomed to the ponderous wonder that they +calmly gnaw the crusts that keep them contented. It requires a full hour +to get the unwieldy engines up the incline and round the sharp turns on to +the open space by the workshop. The driver has to 'back,' and go-a-head, +and 'back' again, a dozen times before he can reach the place, for that +narrow bye-way was not planned out for such traffic. A mere path leading +to some cottages in the rear, it was rarely used even by carts before the +machinist came, and it is a feat of skill to get the engines in without, +like a conqueror, entering by a breach battered in the walls. When, at +last, they have been piloted into position, the steam is blown off, and +the rushing hiss sounds all over the village. The white vapour covers the +ground like a cloud, and the noise re-echoes against the old grey church, +but the jackdaws do not even rise from the battlements. + +These engines and their corresponding tackle are the chief stock-in-trade +of the village machinist. He lets them out to the farmers of the district, +which is principally arable; that is, he contracts to do their ploughing +and scarifying at so much per acre. In the ploughing seasons the engines +are for ever on the road, and with their tackle dragging behind them take +up the highway like a train. One day you may hear the hum and noise from a +distant field on the left; in a day or two it comes from another on the +right; next week it has shifted again, and is heard farther off +northwards, and so all round the compass. + +The visitor, driving about the neighbourhood, cannot but notice the huge +and cumbrous-looking plough left awhile on the sward by the roadside. +One-half of the shares stand up high in the air, the other half touch the +ground, and it is so nicely balanced that boys sometimes play at see-saw +on it. He will meet the iron monster which draws this plough by the bridge +over the brook, pausing while its insatiable thirst is stayed from the +stream. He will see it patiently waiting, with a slight curl of steam over +the boiler, by the wayside inn while its attendants take their lunch. + +It sometimes happens in wet weather that the engines cannot be moved from +the field where they have been ploughing. The soil becomes so soft from +absorbing so much water that it will not bear up the heavy weight. Logs +and poles are laid down to form a temporary way, but the great wheels sink +too deeply, and the engines have to be left covered with tarpaulins. They +have been known to remain till the fresh green leaves of spring on the +hedges and trees almost hid them from sight. + +The machinist has another and lighter traction engine which does not +plough, but travels from farm to farm with a threshing machine. In autumn +it is in full work threshing, and in winter drives chaff-cutters for the +larger farmers. Occasionally it draws a load of coal in waggons or trucks +built for the purpose. Hodge's forefathers knew no rival at plough time; +after the harvest they threshed the corn all the winter with the flail. +Now the iron horse works faster and harder than he. + +Some of the great tenant-farmers have sets of ploughing-engines and tackle +of their own, and these are frequently at the machinist's for repairs. The +reaping, mowing, threshing, haymaking, hoeing, raking, and other machines +and implements also often require mending. Once now and then a bicyclist +calls to have his machine attended to, something having given way while on +a tour. Thus the village factory is in constant work, but has to encounter +immense competition. + +Country towns of any size usually possess at least one manufactory of +agricultural implements, and some of these factories have acquired a +reputation which reaches over sea. The visitor to such a foundry is shown +medals that have been granted for excellence of work exhibited in Vienna, +and may see machines in process of construction which will be used upon +the Continent; so that the village machinist, though apparently isolated, +with nothing but fields around him, has in reality competitors upon every +side. + +Ploughing engines, again, travel great distances, and there are firms that +send their tackle across a county or two. Still the village factory, being +on the spot, has plenty of local work, and the clatter of hammers, the +roar of the blast, and the hum of wheels never cease at the shed. Busy +workmen pass to and fro, lithe men, quick of step and motion, who come +from Leeds, or some similar manufacturing town, and whose very step +distinguishes them in a moment from the agricultural labourer. + +A sturdy ploughboy comes up with a piece of iron on his shoulder; it does +not look large, but it is as much as he can carry. One edge of it is +polished by the friction of the earth through which it has been forced; it +has to be straightened, or repaired, and the ploughboy waits while it is +done. He sits down outside the shed on a broken and rusty iron wheel, +choosing a spot where the sun shines and the building keeps off the wind. +There, among the twisted iron, ruins and fragments of machines, he takes +out his hunch of bread and cheese, and great clasp knife, and quietly +enjoys his luncheon. He is utterly indifferent to the noise of the +revolving wheels, the creak of the bellows, the hiss of steam; he makes no +inquiry about this or that, and shows no desire to understand the wonders +of mechanics. Something in his attitude--in the immobility, the almost +animal repose of limb; something in the expression of his features, the +self-contained oblivion, so to say, suggests an Oriental absence of +aspiration. Only by negatives and side-lights, as it were, can any idea be +conveyed of his contented indifference. He munches his crust; and, when he +has done, carefully, and with vast deliberation, relaces his heavy shoe. +The sunshine illumines the old grey church before him, and falls on the +low green mounds, almost level with the sward, which cover his ancestors. + +These modern inventions, this steam, and electric telegraph, and even the +printing-press have but just skimmed the surface of village life. If they +were removed--if the pressure from without, from the world around, ceased, +in how few years the village and the hamlet would revert to their original +condition! + +On summer afternoons, towards five or six o'clock, a four-wheel +carriage--useful, but not pretentious--comes slowly up the hill leading to +the village. The single occupant is an elderly man, the somewhat wearied +expression of whose features is caused by a continuous application to +business. The horse, too well fed for work, takes his own time up the +hill, and when at the summit the reins are gently shaken, makes but an +idle pretence to move faster, for he knows that his master is too +good-natured and forbearing to use the whip, except to fondly stroke his +back. The reins are scarcely needed to guide the horse along the familiar +road to a large farmhouse on the outskirts of the village, where at the +gate two or more children are waiting to welcome 'papa.' + +Though a farmhouse, the garden is laid out in the style so often seen +around detached villas, with a lawn for tennis and croquet, parterres +bright with summer flowers, and seats under the pleasant shade of the +trees. Within it is furnished in villa fashion, and is in fact let to a +well-to-do tradesman of the market town a few miles distant. He has wisely +sent his family for the summer months to inhale the clear air of the +hills, as exhilarating as that of the sea. There they can ride the pony +and donkeys over the open sward, and romp and play at gipsying. Every +evening he drives out to join them, and every morning returns to his +office. The house belongs to some large tenant-farmer, who has a little +freehold property, and thus makes a profit from it. + +This practice of hiring a village home for the summer has become common of +recent years among the leading tradesmen of country towns. Such visitors +are welcome to the cottage folk. They require the service of a labourer +now and then; they want fresh eggs, and vegetables from the allotment +gardens. The women have the family washing to do, and a girl is often +needed to assist indoors, or a boy to clean the knives and shoes. Many +perquisites fall to the cottage people--cast aside dresses, and so on; +besides which there are little gifts and kindnesses from the lady and her +children. + +Towards November, again, the congregation in the old church one Sunday +morning find subject for speculation concerning a stranger who enters a +certain well-appointed pew appropriated to The Chestnuts. He is clearly +the new tenant who has taken it for the hunting season. The Chestnuts is a +mansion built in modern style for a former landowner. As it is outside the +great hunting centres it is let at a low rental compared with its +accommodation. The labourers are glad to see that the place is let again, +for although the half-pay officer--the new occupant--who has retired, +wounded and decorated, from the service of a grateful country, has +probably not a third the income of the tradesman, and five times the +social appearance to maintain, still there will be profit to be got from +him. + +What chance has such a gentleman in bargaining with the cottagers? How +should he know the village value of a cabbage? How should he understand +the farmyard value of a fowl? It may possibly strike him as odd that +vegetables should be so dear when, as he rides about, he sees whole fields +green with them. He sees plenty of fowls, and geese, and turkeys, gobbling +and cackling about the farmyards, and can perhaps after awhile faintly +perceive that they are the perquisites of the ladies of the tenants' +households, who drive him a very hard bargain. He, too, has cast aside +suits, shoes, hats, and so forth, really but little worn, to give away to +the poor. If married, his family require some help from the cottage women; +and there are odd jobs, well paid for, on the place for the men. Thus the +cottagers are glad of the arrival of their new masters, the one in the +summer, the other in the winter months. + +The 'chapel-folk' of the place have so increased in numbers and affluence +that they have erected a large and commodious building in the village. +Besides the cottagers, many farmers go to the chapel, driving in from the +ends of the parish. It is a curious circumstance that many of the largest +dealers in agricultural produce, such as cheese, bacon, and corn, and the +owners of the busiest wharves where coal and timber, slate, and similar +materials are stored, belong to the Dissenting community. There are some +agricultural districts where this class of business is quite absorbed by +Dissenters--almost as much as money-changing and banking business is said +to be the exclusive property of Jews in some Continental countries. Such +dealers are often substantial and, for the country, even wealthy men. Then +there are the Dissenting tradesmen of the market town. All these together +form a species of guild. The large chapel in the village was built by +their united subscriptions. They support each other in a marked manner in +times of difficulty, so that it is rare for a tenant-farmer of the +persuasion to lose his position unless by wilful misconduct. This mutual +support is so very marked as to be quite a characteristic fact. + +The cottagers and their families go to chapel with these masters. But +sometimes the cottager, as he approaches the chapel door, finds upon it +(as in the church porch) a small printed notice affixed there by the +overseers. If the labourer is now recognised as a person whose opinion is +to be consulted, on the other hand he finds that he is not without +responsibilities. The rate-collector knocks at the cottage door as well as +at the farmer's. By gradual degrees village rates are becoming a serious +burden, and though their chief incidence may be upon the landlord and the +tenant, indirectly they begin to come home to the labourer. The school +rate is voluntary, but it is none the less a rate; the cemetery, the +ancient churchyard being no more available, has had to be paid for, and, +as usual, probably cost twice what was anticipated. The highways, the +sanitary authority, not to speak of poor relief, all demand a share. Each +in itself may be only a straw, but accumulated straws in time fill a +waggon. + +One side of the stable of the village inn, which faces the road, presents +a broad surface for the country bill-sticker. He comes out from the market +town, and travels on foot for a whole day together, from hamlet to hamlet. +posting up the contents of his bag in the most outlying and lonely +districts. Every villager as he passes by reads the announcements on the +wall: the circus coming to the market town, some jeweller's marvellous +watches, the selling off of spring or summer goods by the drapers at an +immense reduction, once now and then a proclamation headed V.R., and the +sales of farm stock (the tenants leaving) and of large freehold +properties. + +These latter are much discussed by the callers at the inn. A carter comes +along perhaps with a loaded waggon from some distance, and as he stays to +drink his quart talks of the changes that are proceeding or imminent in +his locality. Thus the fact that changes are contemplated is often widely +known before the actual advertisement is issued. The labourers who hear +the carter's story tell it again to their own employer next time they see +him, and the farmer meeting another farmer gossips over it again. + +There has grown up a general feeling in the villages and agricultural +districts that the landed estates around them are no longer stable and +enduring. A feeling of uncertainty is abroad, and no one is surprised to +hear that some other place, or person, is going. It is rumoured that this +great landlord is about to sell as many farms as the family settlements +will let him. Another is only waiting for the majority of his son to +accomplish the same object. Others, it is said, are proceeding abroad to +retrench. Properties are coming into the market in unexpected directions, +and others are only kept back because the price of land has fallen, and +there is a difficulty in selling a large estate. If divided into a number +of lots, each of small size, land still fetches its value, and can be +readily sold; but that is not always convenient, and purchasers hesitate +to invest in extensive estates. But though kept back, efforts are being +made to retrench, and, it is said, old mansions that have never been let +before can now be hired for the season. Not only the tenant-farmers, but +the landowners are pacing through a period of depression, and their tenure +too is uncertain. Such is the talk of the country side as it comes to the +village inn. + +Once a week the discordant note of a horn or bugle, loudly blown by a man +who does not understand his instrument, is heard at intervals. It is the +newspaper vendor, who, like the bill-sticker, starts from the market town +on foot, and goes through the village with a terrible din. He stops at the +garden gate in the palings before the thatched cottage, delivers his print +to the old woman or the child sent out with the copper, and starts again +with a flourish of his trumpet. His business is chiefly with the +cottagers, and his print is very likely full of abuse of the landed +proprietors as a body. He is a product of modern days, almost the latest, +and as he goes from cottage door to cottage door, the discordant uproar of +his trumpet is a sign of the times. + +In some districts the osier plantations give employment to a considerable +number of persons. The tall poles are made into posts and rails; the +trunks of the pollard trees when thrown are cut into small timber that +serves many minor purposes; the brushwood or tops that are cut every now +and then make thatching sticks and faggots; sometimes hedges are made of a +kind of willow wicker-work for enclosing gardens. It is, however, the +plantations of withy or osier that are most important. The willow grows so +often in or near to water that in common opinion the association cannot be +too complete. But in the arrangement of an osier-bed water is utilised, +indeed, but kept in its place--i.e. at the roots, and not over the stoles. +The osier should not stand in water, or rise, as it were, out of a +lake--the water should be in the soil underneath, and the level of the +ground higher than the surface of the adjacent stream. + +Before planting, the land has to be dug or ploughed, and cleared; the +weeds collected in the same way as on an arable field. The sticks are then +set in rows eighteen inches apart, each stick (that afterwards becomes a +stole) a foot from its neighbours of the same row. At first the weeds +require keeping down, but after awhile the crop itself kills them a good +deal. Several willows spring from each planted stick, and at the end of +twelve months the first crop is ready for cutting. Next year the stick or +stole will send up still more shoots, and give a larger yield. + +The sorts generally planted are called Black Spanish and Walnut Leaf. The +first has a darker bark, and is a tough wood; the other has a light yellow +bark, and grows smoother and without knots, which is better for working up +into the manufactured article. Either will grow to nine feet high--the +average height is six or seven feet. The usual time for cutting is about +Good Friday--that is, just before the leaf appears. After cutting, the +rods are stacked upright in water, in long trenches six inches deep +prepared for the purpose, and there they remain till the leaf comes out. +The power of growth displayed by the willow is wonderful--a bough has only +to be stuck in the earth, or the end of a pole placed in the brook, for +the sap to rise and shoots to push forth. + +When the leaf shows the willows are carried to the 'brakes,' and the work +of stripping off the bark commences. A 'brake' somewhat resembles a pair +of very blunt scissors permanently fixed open at a certain angle, and +rigidly supported at a convenient height from the ground. The operator +stands behind it, and selecting a long wand from the heap beside him +places it in the 'brake,' and pulls it through, slightly pressing it +downwards. As he draws it towards him, the edges of the iron tear the bark +and peel it along the whole length of the stick. There is a knack in the +operation, of course, but when it is acquired the wand is peeled in a +moment by a dexterous turn of the wrist, the bark falls to the ground on +the other side of the brake, and the now white stick is thrown to the +right, where a pile soon accumulates. The peel is handy for tying up, and +when dried makes a capital material for lighting fires. This stripping of +the osiers is a most busy time in the neighbourhood of the large +plantations--almost like hop-picking--for men, women, and children can all +help. It does not require so much strength as skill and patience. + +After the peeling the sticks have to be dried by exposure to the sun; they +are then sorted into lengths, and sold in bundles. If it is desired to +keep them any time they must be thoroughly dried, or they will 'heat' and +rot and become useless. This willow harvest is looked forward to by the +cottagers who live along the rivers as an opportunity for earning extra +money. The quantity of osier thus treated seems immense, and yet the +demand is said to be steady, and as the year advances the price of the +willow rises. It is manufactured into all kinds of baskets--on farms, +especially arable farms, numbers of baskets are used. Clothes baskets, +market baskets, chaff baskets, bassinettes or cradles, &c., are some few +of the articles manufactured from it. Large quantities of willow, too, are +worked up unpeeled into hampers of all kinds. The number of hampers used +in these days is beyond computation, and as they are constantly wearing +out, fresh ones have to be made. An advantage of the willow is that it +enables the farmer to derive a profit from land that would otherwise be +comparatively valueless. Good land, indeed, is hardly fitted for osier; it +would grow rank with much pith in the centre, and therefore liable to +break. On common land, on the contrary, it grows just right, and not too +coarse. Almost any scrap or corner does for willow, and if properly tended +it speedily pays for the labour. + +The digging and preparation of the ground gives employment, and afterwards +the weeding and the work required to clean the channels that conduct water +round and through the beds. Then there is the cutting and the peeling, and +finally the basket-making; and thus the willow, though so common as to be +little regarded, finds work for many hands. + + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + + +HODGE'S FIELDS + + +The labourer working all the year round in the open air cannot but note to +some degree those changes in tree and plant which coincide with the +variations of his daily employment. Early in March, as he walks along the +southern side of the hedge, where the dead oak leaves still cumber the +trailing ivy, he can scarcely avoid seeing that pointed tongues of green +are pushing up. Some have widened into black-spotted leaves; some are +notched like the many-barbed bone harpoons of savage races. The hardy +docks are showing, and the young nettles have risen up. Slowly the dark +and grey hues of winter are yielding to the lively tints of spring. The +blackthorn has white buds on its lesser branches, and the warm rays of the +sun have drawn forth the buds on one favoured hawthorn in a sheltered +nook, so that the green of the coming leaf is visible. Bramble bushes +still retain their forlorn, shrivelled foliage; the hardy all but +evergreen leaves can stand cold, but when biting winds from the north and +east blow for weeks together even these curl at the edge and die. + +The remarkable power of wind upon leaves is sometimes seen in May, when a +strong gale, even from the west, will so beat and batter the tender +horse-chestnut sprays that they bruise and blacken. The slow plough +traverses the earth, and the white dust rises from the road and drifts +into the field. In winter the distant copse seemed black; now it appears +of a dull reddish brown from the innumerable catkins and buds. The +delicate sprays of the birch are fringed with them, the aspen has a load +of brown, there are green catkins on the bare hazel boughs, and the +willows have white 'pussy-cats.' The horse-chestnut buds--the hue of dark +varnish--have enlarged, and stick to the finger if touched; some are so +swollen as to nearly burst and let the green appear. Already it is +becoming more difficult to look right through the copse. In winter the +light could be seen on the other side; now catkin, bud, and opening leaf +have thickened and check the view. The same effect was produced not long +since by the rime on the branches in the frosty mornings; while each +smallest twig was thus lined with crystal it was not possible to see +through. Tangled weeds float down the brook, catching against projecting +branches that dip into the stream, or slowly rotating and carried +apparently up the current by the eddy and back-water behind the bridge. In +the pond the frogs have congregated in great numbers; their constant +'croo-croo' is audible at some distance. + +The meadows, so long bound by frost and covered with snow, are slowly +losing their wan aspect, and assuming a warmer green as the young blades +of grass come upwards. Where the plough or harrow has passed over the +clods they quickly change from the rich brown of fresh-turned soil to a +whiter colour, the dryness of the atmosphere immediately dissipating the +moisture in the earth. So, examine what you will, from the clod to the +tiniest branch, the hedge, the mound, the water--everywhere a step forward +has been taken. The difference in a particular case may be minute; but it +is there, and together these faint indications show how closely spring is +approaching. + +As the sun rises the chaffinch utters his bold challenge on the tree; the +notes are so rapid that they seem to come all at once. Welcome, indeed, is +the song of the first finch. Sparrows are busy in the garden--the hens are +by far the most numerous now, half a dozen together perch on the bushes. +One suddenly darts forth and seizes a black insect as it flies in the +sunshine. The bee, too, is abroad, and once now and then a yellow +butterfly. From the copse on the warmer days comes occasionally the deep +hollow bass of the wood pigeon. On the very topmost branch of an elm a +magpie has perched; now he looks this way, and then turns that, bowing in +the oddest manner, and jerking his long tail up and down. Then two of them +flutter across the field--feebly, as if they had barely strength to reach +the trees in the opposite hedge. Extending their wings they float slowly, +and every now and then the body undulates along its entire length. Rooks +are building--they fly and feed now in pairs; the rookery is alive with +them. To the steeple the jackdaws have returned and fly round and round; +now one holds his wings rigid and slides down at an angle of sixty degrees +at a breakneck pace, as if about to dash himself in fragments on the +garden beneath. + +Sometimes there come a few days which are like summer. There is an almost +cloudless sky, a gentle warm breeze, and a bright sun filling the fields +with a glow of light. The air, though soft and genial, is dry, and perhaps +it is this quality which gives so peculiar a definition to hedge, tree, +and hill. A firm, almost hard, outline brings copse and wood into clear +relief; the distance across the broadest fields appears sensibly +diminished. Such freedom from moisture has a deliciously exhilarating +effect on those who breathe so pure an atmosphere. The winds of March +differ, indeed, in a remarkable manner from, the gales of the early year, +which, even when they blow from a mild quarter, compel one to keep in +constant movement because of the aqueous vapour they carry. But the true +March wind, though too boisterous to be exactly genial, causes a joyous +sense of freshness, as if the very blood in the veins were refined and +quickened upon inhaling it. There is a difference in its roar--the note is +distinct from the harsh sound of the chilly winter blast. On the lonely +highway at night, when other noises are silent, the March breeze rushes +through the tall elms in a wild cadence. The white clouds hasten over, +illuminated from behind by a moon approaching the full; every now and then +a break shows a clear blue sky and a star shining. Now a loud roar +resounds along the hedgerow like the deafening boom of the surge; it +moderates, dies away, then an elm close by bends and sounds as the blast +comes again. In another moment the note is caught up and repeated by a +distant tree, and so one after another joins the song till the chorus +reaches its highest pitch. Then it sinks again, and so continues with +pauses and deep inspirations, for March is like a strong man drawing his +breath full and long as he starts to run a race. + +The sky, too, like the earth, whose hedges, trees, and meadows are +acquiring fresher colours, has now a more lovely aspect. At noon-day, if +the clouds be absent, it is a rich azure; after sunset a ruddy glow +appears almost all round the horizon, while the thrushes sing in the wood +till the twilight declines. At night, when the moon does not rise till +late, the heavens are brilliant with stars. In the east Arcturus is up; +the Great Bear, the Lesser Bear, and Cassiopeia are ranged about the Pole. +Procyon goes before the Dog; the noble constellation of Orion stretches +broad across the sky; almost overhead lucent Capella looks down. Aries +droops towards the west; the Bull follows with the red Aldebaran, and the +Pleiades. Behind these, Castor and Pollux, and next the cloudlike, +nebulous Cancer. Largest of all, great Sirius is flaming in the south, +quivering with the ebb and flow of his light, sometimes with an emerald +scintillation like a dewdrop on which a sunbeam glances. + +The busy summer, with its haymaking, reaping, and continuous succession of +harvest work, passes too swiftly for reflection both for masters and men. +But in the calm of autumn there is time again to look round. Then white +columns of smoke rise up slowly into the tranquil atmosphere, till they +overtop the tallest elms, and the odour of the burning couch is carried +across the meadows from the lately-ploughed stubble, where the weeds have +been collected in heaps and fired. The stubble itself, short and in +regular lines, affords less and less cover every year. As the seed is now +drilled in, and the plants grow in mathematically straight lines, of +course when the crop is reaped, if you stand at one side of the field you +can see right across between the short stubbs, so that a mouse could +hardly find shelter. Then quickly come the noisy steam ploughing engines, +after them the couch collectors, and finally the heaps are burnt, and the +strong scent of smoke hangs over the ground. Against these interruptions +of their haunts and quiet ways what are the partridges to do? Even at +night the place is scarcely their own, for every now and then as the +breeze comes along, the smouldering fires are fanned into bright flame, +enough to alarm the boldest bird. + +In another broad arable field, where the teams have been dragging the +plough, but have only just opened a few furrows and gone home, a flock of +sheep are feeding, or rather picking up a little, having been, turned in, +that nothing might be lost. There is a sense of quietness--of repose; the +trees of the copse close by are still, and the dying leaf as it drops +falls straight to the ground. A faint haze clings to the distant woods at +the foot of the hills; it is afternoon, the best part of an autumn day, +and sufficiently warm to make the stile a pleasant resting-place. A dark +cloud, whose edges rise curve upon curve, hangs in the sky, fringed with +bright white light, for the sun is behind it, and long, narrow streamers +of light radiate from the upper part like the pointed rays of an antique +crown. Across an interval of blue to the eastward a second massive cloud, +white and shining as if beaten out of solid silver, fronts the sun, and +reflects the beams passing horizontally through the upper ether downwards +on the earth like a mirror. + +The sparrows in the stubble rise in a flock and settle down again. Yonder +a solitary lark is singing. Then the sun emerges, and the yellow autumn +beams flood the pale stubble and the dark red earth of the furrow. On the +bushes in the hedge hang the vines of the bryony, bearing thick masses of +red berries. The hawthorn leaves in places have turned pale, and are +touched, too, towards the stalk with a deep brown hue. The contrast of the +two tints causes an accidental colour resembling that of bronze, which +catches the eye at the first glance, but disappears on looking closer. +Spots of yellow on the elms seem the more brilliant from the background of +dull green. The drooping foliage of the birch exhibits a paler yellow; the +nut-tree bushes shed brown leaves upon the ground. Perhaps the beech +leaves are the most beautiful; two or three tints are blended on the +topmost boughs. There is a ruddy orange hue, a tawny brown, and a bright +green; the sunlight comes and mingles these together. The same leaf will +sometimes show two at least of these colours--green shading into brown, or +into a ruddy gold. Later on, the oaks, in a monochrome of buff, will rival +the beeches. Now and then an acorn drops from the tree overhead, with a +smart tap on the hard earth, and rebounds some inches high. Some of these +that fall are already dark--almost black--but if opened they will be found +bored by a grub. They are not yet ripe as a crop; the rooks are a good +guide in that respect, and they have not yet set steadily to work upon +this their favourite autumn food. Others that have fallen and been knocked +out of the cup are a light yellow at the base and green towards the middle +and the point; the yellow part is that which has been covered by the cup. +In the sward there is a small hole from out of which creeps a wasp at +intervals; it is a nest, and some few of them are still at work. But their +motions are slow and lack vivacity; before long, numbers must die, and +already many have succumbed after crawling miserably on the ground which +they spurned a short while since, when with a brisk buzz they flew from +apple to plum. + +In the quiet woodland lane a covey of partridges are running to and fro on +the short sward at the side, and near them two or three pheasants are +searching for food. The geometrical spiders--some of them look almost as +big as a nut--hang their webs spun to a regular pattern on the bushes. The +fungi flourish; there is a huge specimen on the elm there, but the flowers +are nearly gone. + +A few steps down the lane, upon looking over a gate into a large arable +field where the harrow has broken up the clods, a faint bluish tinge may +be noticed on the dull earth in the more distant parts. A second glance +shows that it is caused by a great flock of woodpigeons. Some more come +down out of the elms and join their companions; there must be a hundred +and fifty or two hundred of them. The woodpigeon on the ground at a +distance is difficult to distinguish, or rather to define individually--the +pale blue tint seems to confuse the eye with a kind of haze. Though the +flock take little notice now--knowing themselves to be far out of +gunshot--yet they would be quickly on the alert if an attempt were made to +approach them. + +Already some of the elms are becoming bare--there are gaps in the foliage +where the winds have carried away the leaves. On the bramble bushes the +blackberries cluster thickly, unseen and ungathered in this wild spot. The +happy hearts that go a-blackberrying think little of the past: yet there +is a deep, a mournful significance attached to that joyous time. For how +many centuries have the blackberries tempted men, women, and children out +into the fields, laughing at scratched hands and nettles, and clinging +burrs, all merrily endured for the sake of so simple a treasure-trove. +Under the relics of the ancient pile-dwellings of Switzerland, disinterred +from the peat and other deposits, have been found quantities of blackberry +seeds, together with traces of crabs and sloes; so that by the dwellers in +those primeval villages in the midst of the lakes the wild fruits of +autumn were sought for much as we seek them now; the old instincts are +strong in us still. + +The fieldfares will soon be here now, and the redwings, coming as they +have done for generations about the time of the sowing of the corn. +Without an almanack they know the dates; so the old sportsmen used to +declare that their pointers and setters were perfectly aware when +September was approaching, and showed it by unusual restlessness. By the +brook the meadows are green and the grass long still; the flags, too, are +green, though numbers of dead leaves float down on the current. There is +green again where the root crops are flourishing; but the brown tints are +striving hard, and must soon gain the mastery of colour. From the barn +comes the clatter of the winnowing machine, and the floor is covered with +heaps of grain. + +After the sun has gone down and the shadows are deepening, it is lighter +in the open stubbles than in the enclosed meadows--the short white stubbs +seem to reflect what little light there is. The partridges call to each +other, and after each call run a few yards swiftly, till they assemble at +the well-known spot where they roost. Then comes a hare stealing by +without a sound. Suddenly he perceives that he is watched, and goes off at +a rapid pace, lost in the brooding shadow across the field. Yonder a row +of conical-roofed wheat-ricks stand out boldly against the sky, and above +them a planet shines. + +Still later, in November, the morning mist lingers over gorse and heath, +and on the upper surfaces of the long dank grass blades, bowed by their +own weight, are white beads of dew. Wherever the eye seeks an object to +dwell on, there the cloud-like mist seems to thicken as though to hide it. +The bushes and thickets are swathed in the vapour; yonder, in the hollow, +it clusters about the oaks and hangs upon the hedge looming in the +distance. There it no sky--a motionless, colourless something spreads +above; it is, of course, the same mist, but looking upwards it apparently +recedes and becomes indefinite. The glance finds no point to rest on--as +on the edges of clouds--it is a mere opaque expanse. But the air is dry, +the moisture does not deposit itself, it remains suspended, and waits but +the wind to rise and depart. The stillness is utter: not a bird calls or +insect buzzes by. In passing beneath the oaks the very leaves have +forgotten to fall. Only those already on the sward, touched by the frost, +crumble under the footstep. When green they would have yielded to the +weight, but now stiffened they resist it and are crushed, breaking in +pieces. + +A creaking and metallic rattle, as of chains, comes across the arable +field--a steady gaze reveals the dim outline of a team of horses slowly +dragging the plough, their shapes indistinctly seen against the hedge. A +bent figure follows, and by-and-by another distinct creak and rattle, and +yet a third in another direction, show that there are more teams at work, +plodding to and fro. Watching their shadowy forms, suddenly the eye +catches a change in the light somewhere. Over the meadow yonder the mist +is illuminated; it is not sunshine, but a white light, only visible by +contrast with the darker mist around. It lasts a few moments, and then +moves, and appears a second time by the copse. Though hidden here, the +disk of the sun must be partly visible there, and as the white light does +not remain long in one place, it is evident that there is motion now in +the vast mass of vapour. Looking upwards there is the faintest suspicion +of the palest blue, dull and dimmed by mist, so faint that its position +cannot be fixed, and the next instant it is gone again. + +But the teams at plough are growing momentarily distinct--a breath of air +touches the cheek, then a leaf breaks away from the bough and starts forth +as if bent on a journey, but loses the impetus and sinks to the ground. +Soon afterwards the beams of the sun light up a distant oak that glows in +the hedge--a rich deep buff--and it stands out, clear, distinct, and +beautiful, the chosen and selected one, the first to receive the ray. +Rapidly the mist vanishes--disappearing rather than floating away; a +circle of blue sky opens overhead, and, finally, travelling slowly, comes +the sunshine over the furrows. There is a perceptible sense of warmth--the +colours that start into life add to the feeling. The bare birch has no +leaf to reflect it, but its white bark shines, and beyond it two great +elms, the one a pale green and the other a pale yellow, stand side by +side. The brake fern is dead and withered; the tip of each frond curled +over downwards by the frost, but it forms a brown background to the dull +green furze which is alight here and there with scattered blossom, by +contrast so brilliantly yellow as to seem like flame. Polished holly +leaves glisten, and a bunch of tawny fungus rears itself above the grass. + +On the sheltered sunny bank lie the maple leaves fallen from the bushes, +which form a bulwark against the north wind; they have simply dropped upon +the ivy which almost covers the bank. Standing here with the oaks overhead +and the thick bushes on the northern side it is quite warm and genial; so +much so that if is hard to realise that winter is at hand. But even in the +shortest days, could we only get rid of the clouds and wind, we should +find the sunshine sufficiently powerful to make the noontide pleasant. It +is not that the sun is weak or low down, nor because of the sharp frosts, +that winter with us is dreary and chill. The real cause is the prevalence +of cloud, through which only a dull light can penetrate, and of +moisture-laden winds. + +If our winter sun had fair play we should find the climate very different. +Even as it is, now and then comes a break in the masses of vapour +streaming across the sky, and if you are only sheltered from the wind (or +stand at a southern window), the temperature immediately rises. For this +reason the temperatures registered by thermometers are often far from +being a correct record of the real weather we have had. A bitter frost +early in the morning sends the mercury below zero, but perhaps, by eleven +o'clock the day is warm, the sky being clear and the wind still. The last +register instituted--that of the duration of sunshine, if taken in +connection with the state of the wind--is the best record of the +temperature that we have actually felt. These thoughts naturally arise +under the oaks here as the bright sunlight streams down from a sky the +more deeply blue from contrast with the brown, and buff, and yellow leaves +of the trees. + +Hark! There comes a joyous music over the fields--first one hound's, note, +then two, then three, and then a chorus; they are opening up a strong +scent. It rises and falls--now it is coming nearer, in a moment I shall +see them break through the hedge on the ridge--surely that was a shout! +Just in the very moment of expectation the loud tongues cease; I wait, +listening breathlessly, but presently a straggling cry or two shows that +the pack has turned and are spread wide trying to recover. By degrees the +sounds die away; and I stroll onwards. + +A thick border of dark green firs bounds the copse--the brown leaves that +have fallen from the oaks have lodged on the foliage of the firs and are +there supported. In the sheltered corner some of the bracken has partly +escaped the frost, one frond has two colours. On one side of the rib it is +green and on the other yellow. The grass is strewn with the leaves of the +aspen, which have turned quite black. Under the great elms there seems a +sudden increase of light--it is caused by the leaves which still remain on +the branches; they are all of the palest yellow, and, as you pass under, +give the impression of the tree having been lit up--illuminated with its +own colour. From the bushes hang the red berries of the night shade, and +the fruit on the briars glistens in the sun. Inside the copse stand +innumerable thistles shoulder high, dead and gaunt; and a grey border +running round the field at the bottom of the hedge shows where the tall, +strong weeds of summer have withered up. A bird flutters round the topmost +boughs of the elm yonder and disappears with a flash of blue--it is a jay. +Here the grass of the meadow has an undertone of grey; then an arable +field succeeds, where six strong horses are drawing the heavy drill, and +great bags of the precious seed are lying on the furrows. + +Another meadow, where note a broken bough of elder, the leaves on which +have turned black, while still on its living branches they are green, and +then a clump of beeches. The trunks are full of knot-holes, after a dead +bough has fallen off and the stump has rotted away, the bark curls over +the orifice and seemingly heals the wound more smoothly and completely +than with other trees. But the mischief is proceeding all the same, +despite that flattering appearance; outwardly the bark looks smooth and +healthy, but probe the hole and the rottenness is working inwards. A +sudden gap in the clump attracts the glance, and there--with one great +beech trunk on this side and another on that--is a view opening down on +the distant valley far below. The wood beneath looks dwarfed, and the +uneven tops of the trees, some green, some tinted, are apparently so close +together as to hide aught else, and the shadows of the clouds move over it +as over a sea. A haze upon the horizon brings plain and sky together +there; on one side, in the far distance a huge block, a rude vastness +stands out dusky and dimly defined--it is a spur of the rolling hills. + +Out in the plain, many a mile away, the sharp, needle-like point of a +steeple rises white above the trees, which there shade and mingle into a +dark mass--so brilliantly white as to seem hardly real. Sweeping the view +round, there is a strange and total absence of houses or signs of +habitation, other than the steeple, and now that, too, is gone. It has +utterly vanished--where, but a few moments before it glowed with +whiteness, is absolutely nothing. The disappearance is almost weird in the +broad daylight, as if solid stone could sink into the earth. Searching for +it suddenly a village appears some way on the right--the white walls stand +out bright and clear, one of the houses is evidently of large size, and +placed on a slight elevation is a prominent object. But as we look it +fades, grows blurred and indistinct, and in another moment is gone. The +whole village has vanished--in its place is nothing; so swift is the +change that the mind scarcely credits the senses. + +A deep shadow creeping towards us explains it. Where the sunlight falls, +there steeple or house glows and shines; when it has passed, the haze that +is really there, though itself invisible, instantly blots out the picture. +The thing may be seen over and over again in the course of a few minutes; +it would be difficult for an artist to catch so fleeting an effect. The +shadow of the cloud is not black--it lacks several shades of that--there +is in it a faint and yet decided tint of blue. This tone of blue is not +the same everywhere--here it is almost distinct, there it fades; it is an +aerial colour which rather hints itself than shows. Commencing the descent +the view is at once lost, but we pass a beech whose beauty is not easily +conveyed. The winds have scarcely rifled it; being in a sheltered spot on +the slope, the leaves are nearly perfect. All those on the outer boughs +are a rich brown--some, perhaps, almost orange. But there is an inner mass +of branches of lesser size which droop downwards, something after the +manner of a weeping willow; and the leaves on these are still green and +show through. Upon the whole tree a flood of sunshine pours, and over it +is the azure sky. The mingling, shading, and contrast of these colours +give a lovely result--the tree is aglow, its foliage ripe with colour. + +Farther down comes the steady sound of deliberate blows, and the upper +branches of the hedge falls beneath the steel. A sturdy labourer, with a +bill on a pole, strikes slow and strong and cuts down the hedge to an even +height. A dreadful weapon that simple tool must have been in the old days +before the advent of the arquebus. For with the exception of the spike, +which is not needed for hedge work, it is almost an exact copy of the +brown bill of ancient warfare; it is brown still, except where sharpened. +Wielded by a sinewy arm, what, gaping gashes it must have slit through +helm and mail and severed bone! Watch the man there--he slices off the +tough thorn as though it were straw. He notes not the beauty of the beech +above him, nor the sun, nor the sky; but on the other hand, when the sky +is hidden, the sun gone, and the beautiful beech torn by the raving winds +neither does he heed that. Rain and tempest affect him not; the glaring +heat of summer, the bitter frost of winter are alike to him. He is built +up like an oak. Believe it, the man that from his boyhood has stood +ankle-deep in the chill water of the ditch, patiently labouring with axe +and bill; who has trudged across the furrow, hand on plough, facing sleet +and mist; who has swung the sickle under the summer sun--this is the man +for the trenches. This is the man whom neither the snows of the North nor +the sun of the South can vanquish; who will dig and delve, and carry +traverse and covered way forward in the face of the fortress, who will lie +on the bare ground in the night. For they who go up to battle must fight +the hard earth and the tempest, as well as face bayonet and ball. As of +yore with the brown bill, so now with the rifle--the muscles that have +been trained about the hedges and fields will not fail England in the hour +of danger. + +Hark!--a distant whoop--another, a blast of a horn, and then a burst of +chiding that makes the woods ring. Down drops the bill, and together, +heedless of any social difference in the common joy, we scramble to the +highest mound, and see the pack sweep in full cry across the furrows. +Crash--it is the bushes breaking, as the first foam-flecked, wearied horse +hardly rises to his leap, and yet crushes safely through, opening a way, +which is quickly widened by the straggling troop behind. Ha! down the lane +from the hill dashes another squadron that has eroded the chord of the arc +and comes in fresher. Ay, and a third is entering at the bottom there, one +by one, over the brook. Woods, field, and paths, but just before an empty +solitude, are alive with men and horses. Up yonder, along the ridge, +gallops another troop in single file, well defined against the sky, going +parallel to the hounds. What a view they must have of the scene below! Two +ladies who ride up with torn skirts cannot lift their panting horses at +the double mound. Well, let us defy 'wilful damage' for once. The gate, +jealously padlocked, is swiftly hoisted off its hinges, and away they go +with hearty thanks. We slip the gate on again just as some one hails to us +across the field to wait a minute, but seeing it is only a man we calmly +replace the timber and let him take his chance. He is excited, but we +smile stolidly. In another minute the wave of life is gone; it has swept +over and disappeared as swiftly as it came. The wood, the field, and lane +seem painfully--positively painfully--empty. Slowly the hedger and ditcher +goes back to his work, where in the shade under the bushes even now the +dew lingers. + +So there are days to be enjoyed out of doors even in much-abused November. +And when the wind rises and the storm is near, if you get under the lee of +a good thick copse there is a wild pleasure in the frenzy that passes +over. With a rush the leaves stream outwards, thickening the air, whirling +round and round; the tree-tops bend and sigh, the blast strikes them, and +in an instant they are stripped and bare. A spectral rustling, as the +darkness falls and the black cloud approaches, is the fallen leaves in the +copse, lifted up from their repose and dashed against the underwood. Then +a howl of wrath descends and fills the sense of hearing, so that for the +moment it is hard to tell what is happening. A rushing hiss follows, and +the rain hurtles through the branches, driving so horizontally as to pass +overhead. The sheltering thorn-thicket stirs, and a long, deep, moaning +roar rises from the fir-trees. Another howl that seems to stun--to so fill +the ears with sound that they cannot hear--the aerial host charges the +tree-ranks, and the shock makes them tremble to the root. Still another +and another; twigs and broken boughs fly before it and strew the sward; +larger branches that have long been dead fall crashing downwards; leaves +are forced right through the thorn-thicket, and strike against the face. +Fortunately, so fierce a fury cannot last; presently the billows of wind +that strike the wood come at longer intervals and with less vigour; then +the rain increases, and yet a little while and the storm has swept on. The +very fury--the utter _abandon_--of its rage is its charm; the spirit rises +to meet it, and revels in the roar and buffeting. By-and-by they who have +faced it have their reward. The wind sinks, the rain ceases, a pale blue +sky shows above, and then yonder appears a majesty of cloud--a Himalaya of +vapour. Crag on crag rises the vast pile--such jagged and pointed rocks as +never man found on earth, or, if he found, could climb--topped with a peak +that towers to the heavens, and leans--visibly leans--and threatens to +fall and overwhelm the weak world at its feet. A gleam as of snow glitters +on the upper rocks, the passes are gloomy and dark, the faces of the +precipice are lit up with a golden gleam from the rapidly-sinking sun. So +the magic structure stands and sees the great round disk go down. The +night gathers around those giant mounts and dark space receives them. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + + +A WINTER'S MORNING + + +The pale beams of the waning moon still cast a shadow of the cottage, +when the labourer rises from his heavy sleep on a winter's morning. +Often he huddles on his things and slips his feet into his thick +'water-tights'--which are stiff and hard, having been wet over night--by +no other light than this. If the household is comparatively well managed, +however, he strikes a match, and his 'dip' shows at the window. But he +generally prefers to save a candle, and clatters down the narrow steep +stairs in the semi-darkness, takes a piece of bread and cheese, and steps +forth into the sharp air. The cabbages in the garden he notes are covered +with white frost, so is the grass in the fields, and the footpath is hard +under foot. In the furrows is a little ice--white because the water has +shrunk from beneath it, leaving it hollow--and on the stile is a crust of +rime, cold to the touch, which he brushes off in getting over. Overhead +the sky is clear--cloudless but pale--and the stars, though not yet fading, +have lost the brilliant glitter of midnight. Then, in all their glory, the +idea of their globular shape is easily accepted; but in the morning, just +as the dawn is breaking, the absence of glitter comes the impression of +flatness--circular rather than globular. But yonder, over the elms, above +the cowpens, the great morning star has risen, shining far brighter, in +proportion, than the moon; an intensely clear metallic light--like +incandescent silver. + +The shadows of the trees on the frosted ground are dull. As the footpath +winds by the hedge the noise of his footstep startles the blackbird +roosting in the bushes, and he bustles out and flies across the field. +There is more rime on the posts and rails around the rickyard, and the +thatch on the haystack is white with it in places. He draws out the broad +hay-knife--a vast blade, wide at the handle, the edge gradually curving to +a point--and then searches for the rubber or whetstone, stuck somewhere in +the side of the rick. At the first sound of the stone upon the steel the +cattle in the adjoining yard and sheds utter a few low 'moos,' and there +is a stir among them. Mounting the ladder he forces the knife with both +hands into the hay, making a square cut which bends outwards, opening from +the main mass till it appears on the point of parting and letting him fall +with it to the ground. But long practice has taught him how to balance +himself half on the ladder, half on the hay. Presently, with a truss +unbound and loose on his head, he enters the yard, and passes from crib to +crib, leaving a little here and a little there, for if he fills one first, +there will be quarrelling among the cows, and besides, if the crib is too +liberally filled, they will pull it out and tread it under foot. The +cattle that are in the sheds fattening for Christmas have cake as well, +and this must be supplied in just proportion. + +The hour of milking, which used to be pretty general everywhere, varies +now in different places, to suit the necessities of the milk trade. The +milk has, perhaps, to travel three or four miles to the railway station; +near great towns, where some of the farmers deliver milk themselves from +house to house, the cows are milked soon after noonday. What would their +grandfathers have said to that? But where the old customs have not much +altered, the milker sits down in the morning to his cow with the stars +still visible overhead, punching his hat well into her side--a hat well +battered and thickly coated with grease, for the skin of the cow exudes an +unctuous substance. This hat he keeps for the purpose. A couple of milking +pails--they are of large size--form a heavy load when filled. The milker, +as he walks back to the farmhouse, bends his head under the yoke--whence +so many men are round-shouldered--and steps slowly with a peculiar swaying +motion of the body, which slight swing prevents it from spilling. + +Another man who has to be up while the moon casts a shadow is the carter, +who must begin to feed his team very early in order to get them to eat +sufficient. If the manger be over-filled they spill and waste it, and at +the same time will not eat so much. This is tedious work. Then the lads +come and polish up the harness, and so soon as it is well light get out to +plough. The custom with the horses is to begin to work as early as +possible, but to strike off in the afternoon some time before the other +men, the lads riding home astride. The strength of the carthorse has to be +husbanded carefully, and the labour performed must be adjusted to it and +to the food, i.e. fuel, consumed. To manage a large team of horses, so as +to keep them in good condition, with glossy coats and willing step, and +yet to get the maximum of work out of them, requires long experience and +constant attention. The carter, therefore, is a man of much importance on +a farm. If he is up to his duties he is a most valuable servant; if he +neglects them he is a costly nuisance, not so much from his pay, but +because of the hindrance and disorganisation of the whole farm-work which +such neglect entails. + +Foggers and milkers, if their cottages are near at hand, having finished +the first part of the day's work, can often go back home to breakfast, +and, if they have a good woman in the cottage, find a fire and hot tea +ready. The carter can rarely leave his horses for that, and, therefore, +eats his breakfast in the stable; but then he has the advantage that up to +the time of starting forth he is under cover. The fogger and milker, on +the other hand, are often exposed to the most violent tempests. A gale of +wind, accompanied with heavy rain, often readies its climax just about the +dawn. They find the soil saturated, and the step sinks into it--the +furrows are full of water; the cow-yard, though drained, is a pool, no +drain being capable of carrying it off quick enough. The thatch of the +sheds drips continually; the haystack drips; the thatch of the stack, +which has to be pulled off before the hay-knife can be used, is wet; the +old decaying wood of the rails and gates is wet. They sit on the +three-legged milking-stool (whose rude workmanship has taken a dull polish +from use) in a puddle; the hair of the cow, against which the head is +placed, is wet; the wind blows the rain into the nape of the neck behind, +the position being stooping. Staggering under the heavy yoke homewards, +the boots sink deep into the slush and mire in the gateways, the weight +carried sinking them well in. The teams do not usually work in very wet +weather, and most of the out-door work waits; but the cattle must be +attended to, Sundays and holidays included. Even in summer it often +happens that a thunderstorm bursts about that time of the morning. But in +winter, when the rain is driven by a furious wind, when the lantern is +blown out, and the fogger stumbles in pitchy darkness through mud and +water, it would be difficult to imagine a condition of things which +concentrates more discomfort. + +If, as often happens, the man is far from home--perhaps he has walked a +mile or two to work--of course he cannot change his clothes, or get near a +fire, unless in the farmer's kitchen. In some places the kitchen is open +to the men, and on Sundays, at all events, they get a breakfast free. But +the kindly old habits are dying out before the hard-and-fast money system +and the abiding effects of Unionism, which, even when not prominently +displayed, causes a silent, sullen estrangement. + +Shepherds, too, sometimes visit the fold very early in the morning, and in +the lambing season may be said to be about both day and night. They come, +however, under a different category to the rest of the men, because they +have no regular hours, but are guided solely by the season and the work. A +shepherd often takes his ease when other men are busily labouring. On the +other hand, he is frequently anxiously engaged when they are sleeping. His +sheep rule his life, and he has little to do with the artificial divisions +of time. + +Hedgers and ditchers often work by the piece, and so take their own time +for meals; the ash woods, which are cut in the winter, are also usually +thrown by the piece. Hedging and ditching, if done properly, is hard work, +especially if there is any grubbing. Though the arms get warm from +swinging the grub-axe or billhook, or cleaning out the ditch and +plastering and smoothing the side of the mound with the spade, yet feet +and ankles are chilled by the water in the ditch. This is often dammed up +and so kept back partially, but it generally forces its way through. The +ditcher has a board to stand on; there is a hole through it, and a +projecting stick attached, with which to drag it into position. But the +soft soil allows the board to sink, and he often throws it aside as more +encumbrance than use. He has some small perquisites: he is allowed to +carry home a bundle of wood or a log every night, and may gather up the +remnants after the faggoting is finished. On the other hand, he cannot +work in bad weather. + +Other men come to the farm buildings to commence work about the time the +carter has got his horses fed, groomed, and harnessed, and after the +fogger and milker have completed their early duties. If it is a frosty +morning and the ground firm, so as to bear up a cart without poaching the +soil too much, the manure is carried out into the fields. This is plain, +straightforward labour, and cannot be looked upon as hard work. If the +cattle want no further attention, the foggers and milkers turn their hands +after breakfast to whatever may be going on. Some considerable time is +taken up in slicing roots with the machine, or chaff-cutting--monotonous +work of a simple character, and chiefly consisting in turning a handle. + +The general hands--those who come on when the carter is ready, and who are +usually young men, not yet settled down to any particular branch--seem to +get the best end of the stick. They do not begin so early in the morning +by some time as the fogger, milker, carter, or shepherd; consequently, if +the cottage arrangements are tolerable, they can get a comfortable +breakfast first. They have no anxieties or trouble whatever; the work may +be hard in itself, but there is no particular hurry (in their estimation) +and they do not distress themselves. They receive nearly the same wages as +the others who have the care of valuable flocks, herds, and horses; the +difference is but a shilling or two, and, to make up for that, they do not +work on Sundays. Now, the fogger must feed his cows, the carter his horse, +the shepherd look to his sheep every day; consequently their extra wages +are thoroughly well earned. The young labourer--who is simply a labourer, +and professes no special branch--is, therefore, in a certain sense, the +best off. He is rarely hired by the year--he prefers to be free, so that +when harvest comes he may go where wages chance to be highest. He is an +independent person, and full of youth, strength, and with little +experience of life, is apt to be rough in his manners and not overcivil. +His wages too often go in liquor, but if such a young man keeps steady +(and there are a few that do keep steady) he does very well indeed, having +no family to maintain. + +A set of men who work very hard are those who go with the steam-ploughing +tackle. Their pay is so arranged as to depend in a measure on the number +of acres they plough. They get the steam up as early as possible in the +morning, and continue as late as they can at night. Just after the +harvest, when the days are long, and, indeed, it is still summer, they +work for extremely long hours. Their great difficulty lies in getting +water. This must be continually fetched in carts, and, of course, requires +a horse and man. These are not always forthcoming in the early morning, +but they begin as soon as they can get water for the boiler, and do not +stop till the field be finished or it is dark. + +The women do not find much work in the fields during the winter. Now and +then comes a day's employment with the threshing-machine when the farmer +wants a rick of corn threshed out. In pasture or dairy districts some of +them go out into the meadows and spread the manure. They wear gaiters, and +sometimes a kind of hood for the head. If done carefully, it is hard work +for the arms--knocking the manure into small pieces by striking it with a +fork swung to and fro smartly. + +In the spring, when the great heaps of roots are opened--having been +protected all the winter by a layer of straw and earth--it is necessary to +trim them before they are used. This is often done by a woman. She has a +stool or log of wood to sit on, and arranges a couple of sacks or +something of the kind, so as to form a screen and keep off the bitter +winds which are then so common--colder than those of the winter proper. +With a screen one side, the heap of roots the other, and the hedge on the +third, she is in some sense sheltered, and, taking her food with her, may +stay there the whole day long, quite alone in the solitude of the broad, +open, arable fields. + +From a variety of causes, the number of women working in the fields is +much less than was formerly the case; thus presenting precisely the +reverse state of things to that complained of in towns, where the clerks, +&c., say that they are undersold by female labour. The contrast is rather +curious. The price of women's labour has, too, risen; and there does not +appear to be any repugnance on their part to field-work. Whether the +conclusion is to be accepted that there has been a diminution in the +actual number of women living in rural places, it is impossible to decide +with any accuracy. But there are signs that female labour has drifted to +the towns quite as much as male--especially the younger girls. In some +places it seems rare to see a young girl working in the field (meaning in +winter)--those that are to be found are generally women well advanced in +life. Spring and summer work brings forth more, but not nearly so many as +used to be the case. + +Although the work of the farm begins so soon in the morning, it is, on the +other hand, in the cold months, over early. 'The night cometh when no man +can work' was, one would think, originally meant in reference to +agricultural labour. It grows dusk before half-past four on a dull +winter's day, and by five is almost, if not quite, dark. Lanterns may be +moving in the cowyards and stables; but elsewhere all is quiet--the +hedger and ditcher cannot see to strike his blow, the ploughs have ceased +to move for some time, the labourer's workshop--the field--is not lighted +by gas as the rooms of cities. + +The shortness of the winter day is one of the primary reasons why, in +accordance with ancient custom, wages are lowered at that time. In summer, +on the contrary, the hours are long, and the pay high--which more than +makes up for the winter reduction. A labourer who has any prudence can, in +fact, do very well by putting by a portion of his extra summer wages for +the winter; if he does not choose to exercise common sense, he cannot +expect the farmer (or any manufacturer) to pay the same price for a little +work and short time as for much work and long hours. Reviewing the work +the labourer actually does in winter, it seems fair and just to state that +the foggers, or milkers, i.e. the men who attend on cattle, the carters, +and the shepherds, work hard, continuously, and often in the face of the +most inclement weather. The mere labourers, who, as previously remarked, +are usually younger and single men, do not work so hard, nor so long. And +when they are at it--whether turning the handle of a winnowing machine in +a barn, cutting a hedge, spreading manure, or digging--it must be said +that they do not put the energy into it of which their brawny arms are +capable. + +'The least work and the most money,' however, is a maxim not confined to +the agricultural labourer. Recently I had occasion to pass through a busy +London street in the West-end where the macadam of the roadway was being +picked up by some score of men, and, being full of the subject of labour, +I watched the process. Using the right hand as a fulcrum and keeping it +stationary, each navvy slowly lifted his pick with the left half-way up, +about on a level with his waistcoat, when the point of the pick was barely +two feet above the ground. He then let it fall--simply by its own +weight--producing a tiny indentation such as might be caused by the kick +of one's heel It required about three such strokes, if they could so +called strokes, to detach one single small stone. After that exhausting +labor the man stood at ease for a few minutes, so that there were often +three or four at once staring about them, while several others lounged +against the wooden railing placed to keep vehicles back. + +A more irritating spectacle it would be hard to imagine. Idle as much +agricultural labour is, it is rarely so lazy as that. How contractors get +their work done, if that is a sample, it is a puzzle to understand. The +complaint of the poor character of the work performed by the agricultural +labourer seems also true of other departments, where labour--pure and +simple labour of thews and sinews--is concerned. The rich city merchant, +who goes to his office daily, positively works harder, in spite of all his +money. So do the shopmen and assistants behind their counters; so do the +girls in drapers' shops, standing the whole day and far into the evening +when, as just observed, the fields have been dark for hours; so, indeed, +do most men and women who earn their bread by any other means than mere +bodily strength. + +But the cattle-men, carters, and shepherds, men with families and settled, +often seem to take an interest in their charges, in the cows, horses, or +sheep; some of them are really industrious, deserving men. The worst +feature of unionism is the lumping of all together, for where one man is +hardly worth his salt, another is a good workman. It is strange that such +men as this should choose to throw in their lot with so many who are +idle--whom they must know to be idle--thus jeopardising their own position +for the sake of those who are not worth one-fifth the sacrifice the +agricultural cottager must be called upon to make in a strike. The +hard-working carter or cattle-man, according to the union theory, is to +lose his pay, his cottage, his garden, and get into bad odour with his +employer, who previously trusted him, and was willing to give him +assistance, in order that the day labourer who has no responsibilities +either of his own or his master's, and who has already the best end of the +stick, should enjoy still further opportunities for idleness. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + + +THE LABOURER'S CHILDREN. COTTAGE GIRLS + + +In the coldest weather one or more of the labourer's children are sure to +be found in the farmyard somewhere. After the mother has dressed her boy +(who may be about three or four years old) in the morning, he is at once +turned out of doors to take care of himself, and if, as is often the case, +the cottage is within a short distance of the farmyard, thither he toddles +directly. He stands about the stable door, watching the harnessing of the +great carthorses, which are, from the very first, the object of his +intense admiration. But he has already learnt to keep out of the way, +knowing that his presence would not otherwise be tolerated a moment, and +occupies a position which enables him to dart quickly behind a tree, or a +rick. + +When the horses are gone he visits the outhouse, where the steam-engine is +driving the chaff-cutter, or peers in at the huge doors of the barn, where +with wide wooden shovel the grain is being moved. Or he may be met with +round the hay-ricks, dragging a log of wood by a piece of tar cord, the +log representing a plough. As you come upon him suddenly he draws up to +the rick as if the hay was his natural protector, and looks up at you with +half-frightened, half-curious gaze, and mouth open. His hat is an old one +of his father's, a mile too big, coming down over his ears to his +shoulders, well greased from ancient use--a thing not without its +advantage, since it makes it impervious to rain. He wears what was a white +jacket, but is now the colour of the prevailing soil of the place; a belt; +and a pair of stumping boots, the very picture in miniature of his +father's, heeled and tipped with iron. His naked legs are red with the +cold, but thick and strong; his cheeks are plump and firm, his round blue +eyes bright, his hair almost white, like bleached straw. + +An hour or two ago his skin was clean enough, for he was sent out well +washed, but it is now pretty well grimed, for he has been making himself +happy in the dirt, as a boy should do if he be a boy. For one thing it is +clean dirt, nothing but pure mother earth, and not the nasty unctuous +filth of city courts and back lanes. If you speak to him he answers you +sturdily--if you can catch the meaning of his words, doubly difficult from +accent and imperfect knowledge of construction. But he means well, and if +you send him on an errand will run off to find 'measter' as fast as his +short stature will allow. He will potter about the farmyard the whole +morning, perhaps turning up at home for a lunch of a slice of bread well +larded. His little sister, not so old as himself, is there, already +beginning her education in the cares of maternity, looking after the +helpless baby that crawls over the wooden threshold of the door with bare +head, despite the bitter cold. Once during the day he may perhaps steal +round the farmhouse, and peer wistfully from behind the tubs or buckets +into the kitchen, when, if the mistress chances to be about, he is pretty +certain to pick up some trifle in the edible line. + +How those prosperous parents who dwell in highly-rented suburban villas, +and send out their children for a walk with a couple of nurses, and a +'bow-wow' to run beside the perambulator, would be eaten up with anxiety +did their well-dressed boys or girls play where this young son of toil +finds his amusement! Under the very hoofs of the carthorses--he will go +out to them when they are loose in the field, three or four in a group, +under a tree, when it looks as if the slightest movement on their part +must crush him; down to the side of the deep broad brook to swim sticks in +it for boats, where a slip on the treacherous mud would plunge him in, and +where the chance of rescue--everybody being half a mile away at +work--would be absolutely _nil_. The cows come trampling through the yard; +the bull bellows in the meadow; great, grunting sows, savage when they +have young, go by, thrusting their noses into and turning up the earth for +food; steam ploughing engines pant and rumble about; carts are continually +coming and going; and he is all day in the midst of it without guardian of +any kind whatsoever. The fog, and frost, and cutting winter winds make him +snivel and cry with the cold, and yet there he is out in it--in the +draughts that blow round the ricks, and through the hedge bare of leaves. +The rain rushes down pitilessly--he creeps inside the barn or shed, and +with a stick splashes the puddles. The long glaring days of summer see him +exposed to the scorching heat in the hay, or the still hotter harvest +field. Through it all he grows stout and strong, and seems happy enough. + +He is, perhaps, more fortunate than his sister, who has to take part in +the household work from very early age. But the village school claims them +both after awhile; and the greater number of such schools are well filled, +taking into consideration the long distances the children have to come and +the frequent bad state of the roads and lanes. Both the employers and the +children's own parents get them to school as much as possible; the former +put on a mild compulsion, the latter for the most part are really anxious +for the schooling, and have even an exaggerated idea of the value of +education. In some cases it would seem as if the parents actually educated +themselves in some degree from their own children, questioning them as to +what they have been told. But, on the other hand, the labourer objects to +paying for the teaching, and thinks the few coppers he is charged a +terrible extortion. + +The lads, as they grow older and leave school, can almost always find +immediate employment with their father on the same farm, or on one close +by. Though they do not now go out to work so soon, yet, on the other hand, +when they do commence they receive higher weekly wages. The price paid for +boys' labour now is such that it becomes a very important addition to the +aggregate income of the cottager. When a man has got a couple of boys out, +bringing home so much per week, his own money, of course, goes very much +farther. + +The girls go less and less into the field. If at home, they assist their +parents at harvest time when work is done by the acre, and the more a man +can cut the better he is off; but their aim is domestic service, and they +prefer to be engaged in the towns. They shirk the work of a farmhouse, +especially if it is a dairy, and so it has come to be quite a complaint +among farmers' wives, in many places, that servants are not to be +obtained. Those that are available are mere children, whose mothers like +them to go out anywhere at first, just to obtain an insight into the +duties of a servant. The farmer's wife has the trouble and annoyance of +teaching these girls the rudiments of household work, and then, the moment +they are beginning to be useful, they leave, and almost invariably go to +the towns. Those that remain are the slow-witted, or those who are tied in +a measure by family difficulties--as a bedridden mother to attend to; or, +perhaps, an illegitimate child of her own may fetter the cottage girl. +Then she goes out in the daytime to work at the farmhouse, and returns to +sleep at home. + +Cottage girls have taken to themselves no small airs of recent years--they +dress, so far as their means will go, as flashily as servants in cities, +and stand upon their dignity. This foolishness has, perhaps, one good +effect--it tends to diminish the illegitimate births. The girls are +learning more self-respect--if they could only achieve that and eschew the +other follies it would be a clear gain. It may be questioned whether +purely agricultural marriages are as common as formerly. The girl who +leaves her home for service in the towns sees a class of men--grooms, +footmen, artisans, and workmen generally--not only receiving higher wages +than the labourers in her native parish, but possessing a certain amount +of comparative refinement. It is not surprising that she prefers, if +possible, to marry among these. + +On the other hand, the young labourer, who knows that he can get good +wages wherever he likes to go, has become somewhat of a wanderer. He roams +about, not only from village to village, but from county to county; +perhaps works for a time as a navvy on some distant railway, and thus +associates with a different class of men, and picks up a sort of coarse +cynicism. He does not care to marry and settle and tie himself down to a +routine of labour--he despises home pleasures, preferring to spend his +entire earnings upon himself. The roaming habits of the rising generation +of labourers is an important consideration, and it has an effect in many +ways. Statistics are not available; but the impression left on the mind is +that purely rural marriages are not so frequent, notwithstanding that +wages at large have risen. When a young man does marry, he and his wife +not uncommonly live for a length of time with his parents, occupying a +part of the cottage. + +Had any one gone into a cottage some few years back and inquired about the +family, most probably the head of the house could have pointed out all his +sons and daughters engaged in or near the parish. Most likely his own +father was at work almost within hail. Uncles, cousins, various relations, +were all near by. He could tell where everybody was. To-day if a similar +inquiry wore made, the answer would often be very different. The old +people might be about still, but the younger would be found scattered over +the earth. One, perhaps, went to the United States or Canada in the height +of the labourers' agitation some years ago, when agents were busy +enlisting recruits for the Far West. Since then another has departed for +Australia, taking with him his wife. Others have migrated northwards, or +to some other point of the compass--they are still in the old country, but +the exact whereabouts is not known. The girls are in service a hundred +miles away--some married in the manufacturing districts. To the +middle-aged, steady, stay-at-home labourer, the place does not seem a bit +like it used to. Even the young boys are restless, and talking of going +somewhere. This may not be the case with every single individual cottage +family, but it is so with a great number. The stolid phalanx of +agricultural labour is slowly disintegrating. + +If there yet remains anything idyllic in the surroundings of rural cottage +life, it may be found where the unmarried but grown-up sons--supposing +these, of course, to be steady--remain at home with their parents. The +father and head of the house, having been employed upon one farm for the +last thirty years or more, though nominally carter, is really a kind of +bailiff. The two young men work on at the same place, and lodge at home, +paying a small weekly sum for board and lodging. Their sister is probably +away in service; their mother manages the cottage. She occasionally bears +a hand in indoor work at the farmhouse, and in the harvest time aids a +little in the field, but otherwise does not labour. What is the result? +Plenty to eat, good beds, fairly good furniture, sufficient fuel, and some +provision for contingencies, through the benefit club. As the wages are +not consumed in drink, they have always a little ready money, and, in +short, are as independent as it is possible for working men to be, +especially if, as is often the case, the cottage and garden is their own, +or is held on a small quit-rent. If either of the sons in time desires to +marry, he does not start utterly unprovided. His father's influence with +the farmer is pretty sure to procure him a cottage; he has some small +savings himself, and his parents in the course of years have accumulated +some extra furniture, which is given to him. + +If a cottage, where the occupants are steady like this, be visited in the +evening, say towards seven o'clock, when dinner is on the table (labourers +dining or supping after the conclusion of the day's work), the fare will +often be found of a substantial character. There may be a piece of +mutton--not, of course, the prime cut, but wholesome meat--cabbages, +parsnips, carrots (labourers like a profusion of vegetables), all laid out +in a decent manner. The food is plain, but solid and plentiful. If the +sister out in service wishes to change her situation, she has a home to go +to meanwhile. Should any dispute occur with the employer the cottage is +still there, and affords a shelter till the difficulty is settled or other +work obtained. In towns the workman who has been earning six or even ten +shillings a day, and paying a high rent (carefully collected every week), +no sooner gets his discharge than he receives notice to quit his lodgings, +because the owner knows he will not be paid. But when the agricultural +labourer has a quit-rent cottage, or one of his own, he has a permanent +resource, and can look round for another engagement. + +The cooking in the best cottages would not commend itself to the student +of that art: in those where the woman is shiftless it would be deemed +simply intolerable. Evidence of this is only too apparent on approaching +cottages, especially towards the evening. Coming from the fresh air of the +fields, perhaps from the sweet scent of clover or of new-mown grass, the +odour which arises from the cottages is peculiarly offensive. It is not +that they are dirty inside--the floor may be scrubbed, the walls brushed, +the chairs clean, and the beds tidy; it is from outside that all the +noisome exhalations taint the breeze. The refuse vegetables, the washings, +the liquid and solid rubbish generally is cast out into the ditch, often +open to the highway road, and there festers till the first storm sweeps it +away. The cleanest woman indoors thinks nothing disgusting out of doors, +and hardly goes a step from her threshold to cast away indescribable +filth. Now, a good deal of this refuse is the remains of imperfect +cooking--masses of soddened cabbage, part of which only is eaten, and the +rest stored for the pig or thrown into the ditch. The place smells of +soaking, saturated cabbage for yards and yards round about. + +But it is much easier to condemn the cottage cook than to show her how to +do better. It is even doubtful whether professed scientific cooks could +tell her what to do. The difficulty arises from the rough, coarse taste of +the labourer, and the fact, which it is useless to ignore, that he must +have something solid, and indeed, bulky. Thin clear soups--though proved +to abound with nourishment and of delicious flavour--are utterly beside +his wants. Give him the finest soup; give him _pâtés_, or even more meaty +_entrées_, and his remark will be that it is very nice, but he wants +'summat to eat.' His teeth are large, his jaws strong, his digestive +powers such as would astonish a city man; he likes solid food, bacon, +butcher's meat, cheese, or something that gives him a sense of fulness, +like a mass of vegetables. This is the natural result of his training and +work in the fields. The materials used by the cottage cook are often quite +capable of being made into agreeable dishes, but then those dishes would +not suit the man. All the soups and kickshaws--though excellent in +themselves--in the world are not, for his purpose, equal to a round of +beef or a side of bacon. Let any one go and labour daily in the field, and +they will come quickly to the same opinion. Yet something might certainly +be done in the way of preventing waste. The real secret lies in the +education of the women when young--that is, for the future. But, taking +the present day, looking at things as they actually exist, it is no use +abusing or lecturing the cottage cook. She might, perhaps, be persuaded to +adopt a systematic plan of disposing of the refuse. + +The Saturday half-holiday is scarcely so closely observed in rural labour +as in urban. The work closes earlier, that is, so far as the day labourer +is concerned, for he gets the best of this as of other things. But, +half-holiday or not, cows have to be fed and milked, sheep must be looked +after, and the stable attended to, so that the regular men do not get off +much sooner. In winter, the days being short, they get little advantage +from the short time; in summer they do. Compensation is, however, as much +as possible afforded to the settled men who have gardens, by giving them a +half-day now and then when work is slack to attend to them. + +On Sunday morning the labourer cleans and polishes his boots (after +digging the potatoes for dinner), puts on a black or dark coat, put his +hands in his pockets--a marked feature this--and rambles down to his +garden or the allotment. There, if it be spring or summer, he is sure to +find some acquaintances likewise 'looking round.' This seems to be one of +the greatest pleasures of the labourer, noting the growth of a cabbage +here, and the promise of potatoes yonder; he does not work, but strolls to +and fro, discussing the vegetable prospect. Then back home in time for +dinner--the great event of Sunday, being often the only day in the week +that he can get a hot dinner in the middle of the day. It is his day at +home, and though he may ramble out he never goes far. + +Ladies residing in the country are accustomed to receive periodical +appeals from friends in town asking their assistance in procuring +servants. So frequent are such appeals that there would seem to be a +popular belief that the supply is inexhaustible. The villages are supposed +to be full of girls, all ready to enter service, and, though a little +uncouth in manner, possessed nevertheless of sterling good qualities. The +letter is usually couched in something like the following terms:--'Do you +happen to know of a really good girl that would suit us? You are aware of +the scale on which our household is conducted, and how very modest our +requirements are. All we want is a strong, healthy, honest girl, ready and +willing to work and to learn, and who will take an interest in the place, +and who will not ask too extravagant a price. She can have a good home +with us as long as ever she likes to stay. My dear, you really cannot tell +what a difficulty we experience in getting servants who are not "uppish," +and who are trustworthy and do not mind working, and if you can find us +one in those pretty villages round you, we shall be so much obliged,' &c. + +The fact that a servant from the country is supposed, in the nature of +things, to be honest and willing, hardworking, strong, and healthy, and +almost everything else, speaks well for the general character of the girls +brought up in agricultural cottages. It is, however, quite a mistake to +suppose the supply to be limitless; it is just the reverse; the really +good servants from any particular district are quickly exhausted, and +then, if the friends in town will insist upon a girl from the country, +they cannot complain if they do not get precisely what they want. The +migration, indeed, of servants from the villages to the towns has, for the +time being, rather overdone itself. The best of those who responded to the +first demand were picked out some time since; many of those now to be had +are not of the first class, and the young are not yet grown up. After +awhile, as education progresses--bringing with it better manners--there +may be a fresh supply; meantime, really good country girls are difficult +to obtain. But the demand is as great as ever. From the squire's lady down +to the wife of the small tenant-farmer, one and all receive the same +requests from friends in town. The character of the true country servant +stands as high as ever. + +Let us hope that the polish of progress may not too much overlay the solid +if humble virtues which procured that character for her class. Some +efforts are being made here and there to direct the course of young girls +after leaving the village schools--to put them in the right way and give +them the benefit of example. As yet such efforts are confined to +individuals. The object is certainly worth the formation of local +organisations, for, too often, on quitting the school, the young village +girl comes in contact with anything but elevating influences, and, +unfortunately, her own mother is not always the best guide. The position +of a servant in town is well known, the antecedents of a girl before she +reaches town perhaps not so thoroughly, while the lives of those who +remain in the villages drop out of sight of the great world. + +As a child, the cottage girl 'roughs' it in the road and in the fields. In +winter she learns to slide, and to endure the cold and rain, till she +often becomes what, to any one accustomed to a more delicate life, seems +positively impervious to weather. The servants in old-fashioned farmhouses +really did not seem to know what it was to feel cold. Even nowadays, a +servant fresh from an outlying hamlet, where her parents probably could +procure but little fuel beyond what was necessary for cooking, at first +cares not an atom whether there be a fire in the kitchen or not. Such +girls are as hardy as the men of their native place. After a time, hot +rooms and a profusion of meat and good living generally saps and +undermines this natural strength. Then they shiver like town-bred people. + +The cottage child is often locked out by her parents, who go to work and +leave her in charge of her still smaller brothers and sisters. They play +about the hedges and ditches, and very rarely come to any harm. In autumn +their little fingers are employed picking up the acorns fallen from the +oaks, for which the formers pay so much per bushel. In spring is their +happiest time. The joy of life--the warm sunshine and pleasant breeze of +spring--is not wholly lost upon them, despite their hard fare, and the not +very affectionate treatment they receive at home. Such a girl may then be +seen sitting under a willow beside the brook, with her charges around +her--the little brother that can just toddle, the baby that can but crawl +and crow in the green fresh grass. Between them lies a whole pile of +flowers--dandelion stems made into rings, and the rings joined together so +as to form a chain, rushes plaited, blue-bells, cowslips tied up in balls, +and cowslips loose, their yellow petals scattered over the sward. + +The brook flows murmuring by, with an occasional splash, as a water-rat +dives from the bank or a fish rises to an insect. The children weave their +flowers and chant some old doggrel rhymes with little or no meaning. Long +afterwards that girl will retain an unconscious memory of the scene, when, +wheeling her employer's children out on some suburban road, she seeks a +green meadow and makes a cowslip ball for the delighted infants. In summer +they go down to the hay-field, but dare not meddle with the hay, which the +bailiff does not like to see disturbed; they remain under the shadow of +the hedge. In autumn they search for the berries, like the birds, nibbling +the hips and haws, tasting crabs and sloes, or feasting on the fruit of a +hazel-bush. + +Be it spring or summer, autumn or winter, wherever the child may be, her +eyes are ever on the watch to find a dead stick or a broken branch, too +heavy to lift, but which may be dragged behind, in order to feed the +cottage fire at night. That is her first duty as a child; if she remains +in the hamlet that will be her duty through life, and to the last, as an +aged woman. So in London, round the purlieus of buildings in the course of +erection--even in the central thoroughfares, in busy Fleet +Street--children hang about the temporary hoardings, and pick up the chips +and splinters of deal. But the latter have not the pleasure of the +blue-bells and cowslips, nor even of the hips and haws, nor does the fresh +pure breeze play upon their foreheads. + +Rough though it be, the childhood of the cottage girl is not without its +recompenses, the most valuable of which is sturdy health. Now that good +schools are open to every village, so soon as the children are old enough +to walk the distance, often considerable, they are sent off every morning. +At all events, if it does nothing else, it causes the mothers to give them +a daily tidying up, which is in itself an advantage. They travel under the +charge of the girl; often two or three such small parties join company, +coming from as many cottages. In the warmer months, the lanes and fields +they cross form a long playground for them, and picking flowers and +searching for birds'-nests pass away the time. In winter they have to face +the mire and rain. + +When the girl leaves school she is hardly old enough to enter service, and +too often in the year or so that elapses before she 'goes out' much +mischief is done. She is then at an age when the mind is peculiarly +receptive, and the ways of the young labourers with whom she is thrown +into contact are not very refined. Her first essay at 'service' is often +as day-nursemaid at some adjacent farmhouse, taking care of the younger +children in the day, and returning home to sleep. She then wanders with +the children about the same fields she visited long before. This system +used to be common enough, but latterly it has not worked well, because the +parents expect the girl to progress so rapidly. She must be a woman and +receive a woman's wages almost before she has ceased to be a girl. If she +does not disdain to enter a farmhouse as kitchen-maid her wages will +probably be about six pounds a year at first. Of course the exact sum +varies very much in different localities and in different cases. It is but +a small sum of money, yet it is often all she is worth. + +The cottage is a poor preparation even for the humblest middle-class home. +Those ladies in towns who have engaged country servants are well aware of +the amount of teaching they require before they can go through the +simplest duties in a satisfactory manner. But most of these girls have +already been out several times before reaching town. What a difficulty, +then, the first farmer's wife must have had in drilling the rudiments of +civilised life into them! Indeed, the vexations and annoyances connected +with servants are no light weight upon the patience of the tenant-farmer. +His wife is perpetually preparing servant girls for the service of other +people. + +She is a kind of unpaid teacher, for ever shaping the rough material +which, so soon as it is worth higher wages than a tenant-farmer can +usually pay, is off, and the business has to be begun over again. No one +who had not seen it would believe how clumsy and unthinking such girls are +on first 'going out.' It is, too, the flightiest and giddiest period of +their existence--before the girl sobers down into the woman. In the houses +of the majority of tenant-farmers the mistress herself has to be a good +deal in the kitchen, and therefore comes into close personal contact with +the servants, and feels these things acutely. Except in the case of +gentleman-farmers it may, perhaps, be said that almost all the wives of +farmers have had experience of this kind. + +The girls are not nearly so tractable as formerly--they are fully aware of +their own value and put it extremely high; a word is sufficient, and if +not pleased they leave immediately. Wages rise yearly to about the limit +of twelve pounds. In mentioning that sum it is not set down as an exact +figure, for circumstances of course vary in every case. But it is seldom +that servants in farmhouses of the middle class receive more than that. +Until recently few obtained so much. Most of them that are worth anything +never rest till they reach the towns, and take service in the villas of +the wealthy suburban residents. Some few, however, remain in the country +from preference, feeling a strong affection for their native place, for +their parents and friends. Notwithstanding the general tendency to roam, +this love of home is by no means extinct, but shows itself very decidedly +in some of the village girls. + +The fogger, or milker, who comes to the farmhouse door in the morning may +not present a very attractive appearance in the eyes of those accustomed +to see well-dressed people; but it may be quite different with the young +girl whose early associations have made her oblivious of dirt. She does +not notice the bits of hay clinging to the smockfrock, the greasy hat and +begrimed face, or the clumsy boots thickly coated with mud. A kiss may be +quite as sweet, despite these mere outside accidents. In her way she is +full of imagination and fancy--what her mistress would call 'giddy.' +Within doors an eye may be on her, so she slips out to the wood-stack in +the yard, ostensibly to fetch a log for the fire, and indulges in a few +moments of flirtation behind the shelter of the faggots. In the summer she +works doubly hard in the morning, and gets everything forward, so that she +may go out to the field haymaking in the afternoon, when she may meet her +particular friend, and also, perhaps, his rival. + +On Sundays she gladly walks two or more miles across the fields to church, +knowing full well that some one will be lounging about a certain stile, or +lying on the sward by a gate waiting for her. The practice of coquetry is +as delightful in the country lane as in the saloons of wealth, though the +ways in which it exhibits itself may be rude in comparison. So that love +is sometimes the detaining force which keeps the girl in the country. Some +of the young labourers are almost heirs to property in their eyes. One is +perhaps the son of the carrier, who owns a couple of cottages let out to +tenants; or the son of the blacksmith, at whom several caps are set, and +about whom no little jealousy rages. On the whole, servants in the +country, at least at farmhouses, have much more liberty than they could +possibly get in town. + +The work is hard in the morning, but generally much less for the rest of +the day; in the evening there is often scarcely anything to do. So that +the farmhouse servant has much time to herself, and is not too strictly +confined indoors when not at work. There is a good deal of 'company,' too; +men coming to the door, men in the rick-yards and cattle-yards, men in the +barn, labourers passing to their work, and so on. It is not so dull a life +as might appear. Indeed, a farmhouse servant probably sees twice as many +of her own class in the course of a week as a servant in town. + +Vanity, of course, is not to be shut out even from so simple an existence: +the girl must have a 'fashionable' bonnet, and a pair of thin tight boots, +let the lanes be never so dirty or the fields never so wet. In point of +education they have much improved of late, and most can now read and +write. But when they write home the letter is often read to the mother by +some friend; the girl's parents being nearly or quite illiterate. +Tenant-farmers' wives are often asked to act as notaries in such cases by +cottage women on the receipt of letters from their children. + +When such a girl marries in the village she usually finds the work of the +cottage harder than that of the farmhouse. It is more continuous, and when +children arrive the trouble of nursing has to be added to the other +duties, and to occasional work in the fields. The agricultural labourer's +wife, indeed, has a harder lot than her husband. His toil is for the most +part over when he leaves the field, but the woman's is never finished. +When the man reaches home he does not care, or will not turn his hand to +anything, except, perhaps, to fetch a pail of water, and he is not well +pleased if asked to do that. The want of conveniences like an accessible +water supply is severely felt by the women in many villages and hamlets; +whilst in others there is a quantity running to waste. Many of the men +obtain a more than liberal amount of beer, while the women scarcely get +any at all. While working in the field they are allowed a small quantity +by some farmers; at home they have none. + +Very few cottage women are inclined to drink, and they are seldom seen at +'public' or intoxicated. On Saturdays most of them walk into the nearest +town, perhaps five or more miles distant, in order to buy household stuff. +Often a whole bevy of neighbours then meet and return home together, and +that is about the only time when they call at the roadside inn. Laden with +heavy parcels, with a long walk yet before them, and after a hard week's +work, it is not surprising that they should want some refreshment, but the +quantity of ale then purchased is very small. When there are a number of +young children, and the parents endeavour to keep them decent, the woman +works very hard indeed. Many farmers' wives take much interest in such +families, where there is an evident endeavour to go straight, and assist +the women in various ways, as with cast-off clothing for the children. A +basketful of apples even from the farmer's orchard is a treat to the +children, for, though better fed than formerly, their diet is necessarily +monotonous, and such fruit as may be grown in the cottage garden is, of +course, sold. + +With the exception of vegetables the cottager now buys almost everything +and produces nothing for home use; no home-spun clothing--not even a +home-baked loaf. Instances have been observed where cottagers have gone to +much expense (for them) to build ovens, and after baking a few batches +abandoned the project. Besides the cheap outfitters in the towns, the +pack-drapers come round visiting every cottage. Such drapers have no +shop-window, and make no display, but employ several men carrying packs, +who work through the villages on foot and range over a wide stretch of +country. + +Agricultural women, other than those belonging to the families of +tenant-farmers, may be summed up as employed in the following manner. +Bailiff's wives and daughters: these are not supposed, on extensive farms, +to work in the field. The wife frequently has charge of the small home +dairy, and the daughter assists at the house. Sometimes they also attend +to the poultry, now occasionally kept in large numbers. A bailiff's +daughter sometimes becomes housekeeper to a farmer. Dairymaids of the +ordinary class--not competent to make special cheese--are becoming rarer, +on account of the demand for their services decreasing--the milk trade and +cheap foreign cheese having rendered common sorts of cheese unprofitable. +They are usually cottagers. Of the married labouring women and the indoor +servants something has already been said. In most villages a seamstress or +two may be found, and has plenty of work to do for the farmers' families. +The better class of housekeepers, and those professional dairymaids who +superintend the making of superior cheese, are generally more or less +nearly related to the families of tenant-farmers. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + + +THE LOW 'PUBLIC' IDLERS + + +The wise old saw that good wine needs no bush does not hold true in the +case of the labourer; it would require a very large bush indeed to attract +him to the best of beer offered for sale under legitimate conditions. In +fact, he cares not a rap about good beer--that is, intrinsically good, a +genuine product of malt and hops. He would rather grumble at it, unless, +perchance, it was a gift; and even then would criticise it behind the +donor's back, holding the quart cup aslant so as to see the bottom in one +place, and get a better view of the liquor. The great breweries whose +names are household words in cities, and whose interest it is to maintain +a high standard of quality for the delectation of their million consumers, +do not exalt their garish painted advertisements in gilded letters as tall +as Tom Thumb over the doors of village alehouses. You might call for Bass +at Cairo, Bombay, Sydney, or San Francisco, and Bass would be forthcoming. +But if you knocked the trestle-table with the bottom of a tankard (the +correct way) in a rural public, as a signal to the cellar you might call +for Bass in vain. + +When the agricultural labourer drops in on his way home from his work of a +winter evening--heralding his approach by casting down a couple of logs or +bundle of wood which he has been carrying with a thud outside the door--he +does not demand liquor of that character. When in harvest time, after +sundown--when the shadows forbid farther cutting with the fagging hook at +the tall wheat--he sits on the form without, under the elm tree, and feels +a whole pocketful of silver, flush of money like a gold-digger at a +fortunate rush, he does not indulge in Allsopp or Guinness. He hoarsely +orders a 'pot' of some local brewer's manufacture--a man who knows exactly +what he likes, and arranges to meet the hardy digestion of the mower and +the reaper. He prefers a rather dark beer with a certain twang faintly +suggestive of liquorice and tobacco, with a sense of 'body,' a thickness +in it, and which is no sooner swallowed than a clammy palate demands a +second gulp to wash away the relics of the first. Ugh! The second requires +a third swig, and still a fourth, and appetite increasing with that it +feeds on, the stream rushes down the brazen throat that burns for more. + +Like the Northern demi-god who drank unwittingly at the ocean from a horn +and could not empty it, but nevertheless caused the ebb of the sea, so our +toper, if he cannot contain the cask, will bring it down to the third hoop +if time and credit will but serve. It would require a ganger's staff to +measure his capacity--in fact, the limit of the labourer's liquor-power, +especially in summer, has never yet been reached. A man will lie on his +back in the harvest field, under a hedge sweet with the June roses that +smile upon the hay, and never move or take his lips away till a gallon has +entered into his being, for it can hardly be said to be swallowed. Two +gallons a day is not an uncommon consumption with men who swing the scythe +or reaping-hook. + +This of course is small beer; but the stuff called for at the low public +in the village, or by the road just outside, though indescribably nauseous +to a non-vitiated palate, is not 'small.' It is a heady liquid, which if +anyone drinks, not being accustomed to it, will leave its effects upon him +for hours afterwards. But this is what the labourer likes. He prefers +something that he can feel; something that, if sufficiently indulged in, +will make even his thick head spin and his temples ache next morning. Then +he has had the value of his money. So that really good ale would require a +very large bush indeed before it attracted his custom. + +It is a marked feature of labouring life that the respectable inn of the +village at which the travelling farmer, or even persons higher in rank, +occasionally call, which has a decent stable, and whose liquors are of a +genuine character, is almost deserted by the men who seek the reeking tap +of the ill-favoured public which forms the clubhouse of all the vice of +the village. While the farmer or passing stranger, calling at the decent +house really for refreshment, drinks but a glass or two and departs, the +frequenters of the low place never quit their seats till the law compels +them, so that for sixpence spent in the one by men with cheque-books in +their pockets, five shillings are spent in the other by men who have not +got a loaf of bread at home for their half-starving children and pinched +wife. To an unprincipled landlord clearly this sort of custom is decidedly +preferable, and thus it is that these places are a real hardship to the +licensed victualler whose effort it is to keep an orderly house. + +The influence of the low public upon the agricultural labourer's life is +incalculable--it is his club, almost his home. There he becomes +brutalised; there he spends his all; and if he awakes to the wretched +state of his own family at last, instead of remembering that it is his own +act, he turns round, accuses the farmer of starvation wages, shouts for +what is really Communism, and perhaps even in his sullen rage descends to +crime. Let us go with him into such a rural den. + +Beware that you do not knock your head against the smoke-blackened beams +of the low ceiling, and do not put your elbow carelessly on the deal +table, stained with spilled ale, left uncleaned from last night, together +with little heaps of ashes, tapped out from pipes, and spots of grease +from the tallow candles. The old-fashioned settles which gave so cosy an +air in the olden time to the inn room, and which still linger in some of +the houses, are not here--merely forms and cheap chairs. A great pot hangs +over the fire, for the family cooking is done in the public apartment; but +do not ask to join in the meal, for though the food may be more savoury +than is dreamed of in your philosophy, the two-grained forks have not been +cleaned these many a day. Neither is the butcher's wooden skewer, just +extracted from the meat, an elegant toothpick if you are fastidious. + +But these things are trifles when the dish is a plump pheasant, jugged +hare, brown partridges, or trout--perhaps not exactly in season--as the +chance may be; or a couple of boiled fowls, or a turkey, or some similar +toothsome morsel. Perhaps it is the gamey taste thus induced that enables +them to enjoy joints from the butcher which are downright tainted, for it +is characteristic of the place and people on the one hand to dine on the +very best, as above, and yet to higgle over a halfpenny a pound at the +shop. Nowhere else in all the parish, from the polished mahogany at the +squire's mansion to the ancient solid oaken table at the substantial +old-fashioned farmer's, can there be found such a constant supply of food +usually considered as almost the privilege of the rich. Bacon, it is true, +they eat of the coarsest kind; but with it eggs new laid and delicious. In +brief, it is the strangest hodge-podge of pheasant and bread and cheese, +asparagus and cabbage. But somehow, whatever is good, whatever is held in +estimation, makes its appearance in that grimy little back room on that +ragged, dirty table-cloth. + +Who pays for these things? Are they paid for at all? There is no licensed +dealer in game in the village nor within many miles, and it seems passing +strange. But there are other things almost as curious. The wood pile in +the back yard is ever high and bulky; let the fire burn never so clear in +the frosty days there is always a regular supply of firewood. It is the +same with coal. Yet there is no copse attached to the place, nor is the +landlord ever seen chopping for himself, nor are the farmers in the habit +of receiving large orders for logs and faggots. By the power of some magic +spell all things drift hitherward. A magnet which will draw logs of timber +and faggots half across the parish, which will pull pheasants off their +perch, extract trout from the deep, and stay the swift hare in midst of +her career, is a power indeed to be envied. Had any enchanter of mediaeval +days so potent a charm? + +Perhaps it is the engaging and attractive character of the landlord +himself. He is a tall, lanky man, usually seen in slippers, and trousers +too short for his limbs; he 'sloppets' about in his waistcoat and +shirt-sleeves, hands in pockets, and shoulders forward almost in a hump. +He hangs about the place, now bringing in a log, now carrying a bucket, +now spinning a mop, now slouching down the garden to feed the numerous +fowls that scratch around the stumps of cabbages. Anything, in short, but +work. Sometimes, however, he takes the trap and horse, and is supposed to +be gone on a dealing expedition. Sometimes it is only to carry a jar of +beer up to the men in the field, and to mouch a good armful of fresh-cut +clover for provender from the swathe. He sips gin the live-long day--weak +gin always--every hour from morn till a cruel Legislature compels the +closing of the shutters. He is never intoxicated--it is simply a habit, a +sort of fuel to feed the low cunning in which his soul delights. So far +from intoxication is he, that there is a fable of some hard knocks and ill +usage, and even of a thick head being beaten against the harder stones of +the courtyard behind, when the said thick head was helpless from much ale. +Such matters are hushed up in the dark places of the earth. So far from +intoxication is he, that he has the keenest eye to business. + +There is a lone rick-yard up in the fields yonder to which the carters +come from the farm far away to fetch hay, and straw, and so forth. They +halt at the public, and are noticed to enjoy good living there, nor are +they asked for their score. A few trusses of hay, or bundles of straw, a +bushel of corn, or some such trifle is left behind merely out of +good-fellowship. Waggons come up laden with tons of coal for the farms +miles above, far from a railway station; three or four teams, perhaps, one +after the other. Just a knob or two can scarcely be missed, and a little +of the small in a sack-bag. The bundles of wood thrown down at the door by +the labourers as they enter are rarely picked up again; they disappear, +and the hearth at home is cold. The foxes are blamed for the geese and the +chickens, and the hunt execrated for not killing enough cubs, but Reynard +is not always guilty. Eggs and poultry vanish. The shepherds have ample +opportunities for disposing of a few spare lambs to a general dealer whose +trap is handy. Certainly, continuous gin does not chill the faculties. + +If a can of ale is left in the outhouse at the back and happens to be +found by a few choice spirits at the hour when the vicar is just +commencing his sermon in church on Sunday, it is by the purest accident. +The turnip and swede greens left at the door, picked wholesale from the +farmers' fields; the potatoes produced from coat pockets by fingers which +have been sorting heaps at the farmstead; the apples which would have been +crushed under foot if the labourers had not considerately picked them +up--all these and scores of other matters scarce worth naming find their +way over that threshold. Perhaps the man is genial, his manners enticing, +his stories amusing, his jokes witty? Not at all. He is a silent fellow, +scarce opening his mouth except to curse the poor scrub of a maid servant, +or to abuse a man who has not paid his score. He slinks in and lights his +pipe, smokes it silently, and slinks out again. He is the octopus of the +hamlet, fastening on the cottage homes and sucking the life-blood from +them. He misses nothing, and nothing comes amiss to him. + +His wife, perhaps, then, may be the centre of attraction? She is a short, +stout woman, whose cheeks as she walks wobble with fat, whose face is ever +dirty, and dress (at home) slatternly. But mayhap her heart is in the +right place, and when Hodge is missed from his accustomed seat by the fire +of an evening, when it is bruited abroad that he is down with illness, +hurriedly slips on her bonnet, and saying nothing, carries a basket of +good things to cheer the inner man? Or, when his wife is confined, perhaps +she brings some little delicacies, a breast of pheasant, a bottle of port +wine, and strengthens her with motherly counsel in the hour of her +travail. Is this so? Hodge's wife could tell you that the cottage door has +never been darkened by her presence: that she indeed would not acknowledge +her if passed by chance on the road. For the landlady sails forth to the +adjacent town in all the glory of those fine feathers that proverbially +make the fine bird. + +It is a goodly spectacle to see her in rustling ample silk, in costly +sealskin, in a bonnet 'loud' but rich, shading a countenance that glows +ruddy red as a furnace. A gold chain encircles her portly neck, with a +gold watch thereto attached; gold rings upon her fingers, in one of which +sparkles a brilliant diamond; gold earrings, gold brooch, kid gloves +bursting from the fatness of the fingers they encase. The dingy trap and +limping rawboned hack which carry her to the outskirts of the town +scarcely harmonise with so much glory. But at the outskirts she alights, +and enters the street in full dignity. By some potent alchemy the sweat of +Hodge's brow has become condensed into that sparkling diamond, which is +disclosed when the glove is drawn off in the shops, to the admiration of +all beholders. + +Or, if not the wife, perhaps it may be the daughter who is the magnet that +draws the very timber across the parish? She is not ill-looking, and might +pass muster in her best dress were it not for a squareness of build, like +the set of a man rather than the full curves associated with woman. She is +rarely seen in the house at all, and neither talks to the men nor the +women who enter. She sallies forth at night, and her friends are the +scampish among the sons of the lower class of tenant-farmers. + +This is the family. How strange and yet how undeniable is it that such a +house should attract the men whose self-interest, one would imagine, would +lead them to shun it, and if they must spend their hard-won earnings, at +least to get a good article for their money! It proves that an appeal to +reason is not always the way to manage the working man. Such a low house +is always a nest of agitation: there the idle, drunken, and +ill-conditioned have their rendezvous, there evil is hatched, and from +there men take their first step on the road that leads to the gaol. The +place is often crowded at night--there is scarcely room to sit or stand, +the atmosphere is thick with smoke, and a hoarse roar of jarring voices +fills it, above which rises the stave of a song shouted in one unvarying +key from some corner. Money pours in apace--the draughts are deep, and +long, and frequent, the mugs are large, the thirst insatiate. The takings, +compared with the size and situation of the house, must be high, and yet, +with all this custom and profit, the landlord and his family still grovel. +And grovel they will in dirt, vice, low cunning, and iniquity--as the +serpent went on his belly in the dust--to the end of their days. + +Why do these places exist? Because in England justice is ever tempered +with mercy; sometimes with too much mercy. The resident squire and +magistrate knows the extent of the evil only too well. He sees it with his +own eyes in the village; he sees it brought before him on the bench; the +clergyman tells him of it, so do the gamekeeper and the policeman. His +tenants complain of it. He is perpetually reminded of it, and of what it +may ultimately mean as these places become the centres of communistic +propagandas. But though perfectly aware of the evil, to suppress it is +quite another matter. + +First, you must find the power, and then, having the power, the question +arises, is it wise to exercise it? Though the men who frequent such dens +are often of the lowest type, or on their way to that condition, they are +not all of that character. Men of a hard-working and honest stamp go there +as well. All have their rights alike--rights and liberties which must be +held sacred even at some disadvantage. In short, the reprobate nature of +the place may be established, but while it is the chosen resort of the +people, or of a section of them, unless some great and manifest harm +arises it cannot be touched. The magistrate will willingly control it as +far as lies in his province, but unless directly instructed by the +Legislature he cannot go farther. The truth is, it lies with the labourer +himself. He is not obliged to visit there. A respectable inn may be found +in every village if he desires that wholesome conviviality which, when it +does not overstep certain bounds, forms a bond between man and man. Were +such low houses suddenly put down, what an outcry would be raised of +favouritism, tyranny, and so on! When the labourer turns against them +himself, he will speedily find powerful friends to assist in attaining the +object. + +If ever a man deserved a good glass of beer it is the agricultural +labourer upon the conclusion of his day's work, exposed as he is to the +wear and tear of the elements. After following the slow plough along the +furrows through the mist; after tending the sheep on the hills where the +rain beats with furious energy; after grubbing up the tough roots of +trees, and splitting them with axe and wedge and mallet, a man may +naturally ask for refreshment. And it is equally natural that he should +desire to take it in the society of his fellows, with whom he can +associate freely and speak his mind unchecked. The glass of ale would not +hurt him; it is the insidious temptation proffered in certain quarters to +do evil for an extra quart. Nothing forms so strong a temptation as the +knowledge that a safe receiver is near at hand. + +He must not be harshly judged because of the mere quantity he can take, +for a quart of ale to him is really no more than a glass of wine to the +'City' gentleman who lives delicately. He is to be pitied rather than +condemned, and aided out of the blunder rather than chastised. Punishment, +indeed, waits upon him only too doggedly, and overtakes him too quickly in +the shape of sorrows and privations at home. The evil lies not in the ale, +but in the character of the man that sold him the ale, and who is, at the +same time, the worst enemy of the legitimately-trading innkeeper. No one, +indeed, has better cause than the labourer to exclaim, 'Save me from my +friends!' To do the bulk of the labourers bare justice it must be stated +that there is a certain bluff honesty and frankness among them, a rude +candour, which entitles them to considerable respect as a body. There are +also men here and there whose strength of character would certainty have +obtained favourable acknowledgment had their lot been cast in a higher +rank of life. But, at the same time, the labourer is not always so +innocent and free from guile--so lamblike as it suits the purpose of some +to proclaim, in order that his rural simplicity may secure sympathy. There +are very queer black sheep in the flock, and it rather unfortunately +happens that these, in more ways than one, force themselves, sometimes +most unpleasantly, upon the notice of the tenant-farmer and the landlord. + +A specimen or two may easily be selected from that circle of choice +manhood whose head-quarters are at the low 'public.' A tall, well-built +man stands forward, and at the first glance a stranger might take him for +a favourable example. He holds himself more upright than most of his +class, he is not ill-looking, and a marked air of deference towards those +who address him conveys rather a pleasing impression. He can read fairly +well and sign his name. This man, who is still young, began life as +carter's lad, in which occupation he had not been long engaged before the +horse-hair carefully accumulated as a perquisite disappeared. Whipcord and +similar small articles next vanished, and finally a handsome new whip. +This last, not being so easily disposed of, was traced to his possession +and procured him a sound thrashing. Some short time afterwards a carthorse +was found in the fields stabbed in several places, though, fortunately, +not severely. Having already the bad name that hangs the dog, he was +strongly suspected of this dastardly act in revenge for the thrashing from +the carter, and threat of dismissal from the employer. No evidence, +however, could be procured, and though he was sent about his business he +escaped punishment. As he grew older he fell in with a tribe of +semi-gipsies, and wandered in their company for a year or two, learning +their petty pilfering tricks. He then returned to agriculture labour, and, +notwithstanding the ill-flavour that clung about his doings, found no +difficulty in obtaining employment. + +It is rare in agriculture for a man to be asked much about his character, +unless he is to be put into a position of some trust. In trades and +factories--on railways, too--an applicant for employment is not only +questioned, but has to produce evidence as to his immediate antecedents at +least. But the custom in farming prescribes no such checks; if the farmer +requires a man, the applicant is put on to work at once, if he looks at +all likely. This is especially the case in times of pressure, as when +there is a great deal of hoeing to be done, in harvest, and when extra +hands are wanted to assist in feeding the threshing machine. Then the +first that comes along the road is received, and scarcely a question +asked. The custom operates well enough in one way, since a man is nearly +sure of procuring employment, and encounters no obstacles; on the other +hand, there is less encouragement to preserve a good character. So the +fellow mentioned quickly got work when he applied for it, and went on +pretty steadily for a period. He then married, and speedily discovered the +true use of women--i.e. to work for idle men. The moment he learnt that he +could subsist upon her labour he ceased to make any effort, and passed his +time lounging about. + +The wife, though neither handsome nor clever, was a hard-working person, +and supported herself and idle husband by taking in washing. Indignation +has often been expressed at the moral code of savages, which permits the +man to lie in his hammock while the woman cultivates the maize; but, +excepting the difference in the colour of the skin, the substitution of +dirty white for coppery redness, there is really no distinction. Probably +washing is of the two harder work than hoeing maize. The fellow 'hung +about,' and doubtless occasionally put in practice the tricks he had +acquired from his nomad friends. + +The only time he worked was in the height of the harvest, when high wages +are paid. But then his money went in drink, and drink often caused him to +neglect the labour he had undertaken, at an important juncture when time +was of consequence. On one such occasion the employer lost his temper and +gave him a piece of his mind, ending by a threat of proceedings for breach +of contract. A night or two afterwards the farmer's rick-yard was ablaze, +and a few months later the incendiary found himself commencing a term of +penal servitude. There he was obliged to work, began to walk upright, and +acquired that peculiarly marked air of deference which at first contrasts +rather pleasantly with the somewhat gruff address of most labourers. +During his absence the wife almost prospered, having plenty of employment +and many kind friends. He signalised his return by administering a +thrashing--just to re-assert his authority--which, however, the poor woman +received with equanimity, remarking that it was only his way. He +recommenced his lounging life, working occasionally when money was to be +easily earned--for the convict stain does not prevent a man getting +agricultural employment--and spending the money in liquor. When tolerably +sober he is, in a sense, harmless; if intoxicated, his companions give him +the road to himself. + +Now there is nothing exceptionally characteristic of the agricultural +labourer in the career of such a man. Members of other classes of the +working community are often sent to penal servitude, and sometimes men of +education and social position. But it is characteristic of agricultural +life that a man with the stigma of penal servitude can return and +encounter no overpowering prejudice against him. There are work and wages, +for him if he likes to take them. No one throws his former guilt in his +face. He may not be offered a place of confidence, nor be trusted with +money, as the upper labourers--carters for instance--sometimes are. But +the means of subsistence are open to him, and he will not be driven by the +memory of one crime to commit another. + +There is no school of crime in the country. Children are not brought up +from the earliest age to beg and steal, to utter loquacious falsehood, or +entrap the benevolent with sham suffering. Hoary thieves do not keep +academies for the instruction of little fingers in the art of theft. The +science of burglary is unstudied. Though farmhouses are often situate in +the most lonely places a case of burglary rarely occurs, and if it does, +is still more rarely traced to a local resident. In such houses there is +sometimes a good deal of old silver plate, accumulated in the course of +generations--a fact that must be perfectly well known to the labouring +class, through the women indoor-servants. Yet such attempts are quite +exceptional. So, too, are robberies from the person with violence. Serious +crime is, indeed, comparatively scarce. The cases that come before the +Petty Sessions are, for the most part, drunkenness, quarreling, neglect or +absenteeism from work, affiliation, petty theft, and so on. + +The fact speaks well for the rural population; it speaks very badly for +such characters as the one that has been described. If he will not turn +into the path of honest labour, that is his own fault. The injury he does +is this, that he encourages others to be idle. Labouring men quit the +field under the influence of temporary thirst, or that desire for a few +minutes' change which is not in itself blameworthy. They enter the low +'public,' call for their quart, and intend to leave again immediately. But +the lazy fellow in the corner opens conversation, is asked to drink, more +is called for, there is a toss-up to decide who shall pay, in which the +idle adept, of course, escapes, and so the thing goes on. Such a man +becomes a cause of idleness, and a nuisance to the farmers. + +Another individual is a huge, raw-boned, double-jointed giant of a man, +whose muscular strength must be enormous, but whose weakness is beer. He +is a good workman, and of a civil, obliging disposition. He will commence, +for instance, making drains for a farmer with the greatest energy, and in +the best of tempers. A drain requires some little skill. The farmer visits +the work day by day, and notes with approval that it is being done well. +But about the third or fourth day the clever workman, whose immense +strength makes the employment mere child's play to him, civilly asks for a +small advance of money. Now the farmer has no objection to that, but hands +it to him with some misgiving. Next morning no labourer is to be seen. The +day passes, and the next. Then a lad brings the intelligence that his +parent is just recovering from a heavy drinking bout and will be back +soon. There is the history of forty years! + +The same incident is repeated once or twice a month all the year round. +Now it is a drain, now hedge-cutting, now hoeing, now haymaking, and now +reaping. Three or four days' work excellently performed; then a bed in a +ditch and empty pockets. The man's really vast strength carries him +through the prostration, and the knocks and bangs and tumbles received in +a helpless state. But what a life! The worst of it is the man is not a +reprobate--not a hang-dog, lounging rascal, but perfectly honest, willing +to oblige, harmless and inoffensive even when intoxicated, and skilful at +his labour. What is to be done with him? What is the farmer to do who has +only such men to rely on--perhaps in many cases--without this fellow's +honesty and good temper--qualities which constantly give him a lift? It is +simply an epitome of the difficulties too commonly met with in the +field--bright sunshine, good weather, ripe crops, and men half +unconscious, or quite, snoring under a hedge! There is no encouragement to +the tenant to pay high wages in experiences like this. + +A third example is a rakish-looking lad just rising into manhood. Such +young men are very much in demand and he would not have the slightest +difficulty in obtaining employment, yet he is constantly out of work. When +a boy he began by summoning the carter where he was engaged for cuffing +him, charging the man with an assault. It turned out to be a trumpery +case, and the Bench advised his parents to make him return and fulfil his +contract. His parents thought differently of it. They had become imbued +with an inordinate sense of their own importance. They had a high idea of +the rights of labour; Jack, in short, was a good deal better than his +master, and must be treated with distinguished respect. The doctrines of +the Union countenanced the deduction; so the boy did not return. Another +place was found for him. + +In the course of a few months he came again before the Bench. The +complaint was now one of wrongful dismissal, and a claim for a one pound +bonus, which by the agreement was to have been paid at the end of the year +if his conduct proved satisfactory. It was shown that his conduct had been +the reverse of satisfactory; that he refused to obey orders, that he +'cheeked' the carters, that he ran away home for a day or two, and was +encouraged in these goings on by the father. The magistrates, always on +the side of peace, endeavoured to procure a reconciliation, the farmer +even paid down the bonus, but it was of no use. The lad did not return. + +With little variations the same game has continued ever since. Now it is +he that complains, now it is his new master; but any way there is always a +summons, and his face is as familiar in the court as that of the chairman. +His case is typical. What is a farmer to do who has to deal with a rising +generation full of this spirit? + +Then there are the regular workhouse families, who are perpetually +applying for parochial relief. From the eldest down to the youngest member +they seem to have no stamina; they fall ill when all others are well, as +if afflicted with a species of paralysis that affects body, mind, and +moral sense at once. If the phrase may be used without irreverence, there +is no health in them. The slightest difficulty is sufficient to send an +apparently strong, hale man whining to the workhouse. He localises his +complaint in his foot, or his arm, or his shoulder; but, in truth, he does +not know himself what is the matter with him. The real illness is weakness +of calibre--a looseness of fibre. Many a labourer has an aching limb from +rheumatism, and goes to plough all the same; many a poor cottage woman +suffers from that prevalent agony, and bravely gets through her task, and +keeps her cottage tidy. But these people cannot do it--they positively +cannot. The summer brings them pain, the winter brings pain, their whole +life is one long appeal _ad misericordiam_. + +The disease seems to spread with the multiplication of the family: the +sons have it, and the sons' sons after them, so much so that even to bear +the name is sufficient to stamp the owner as a miserable helpless being. +All human wretchedness is, of course, to be deeply commiserated, and yet +it is exasperating to see one man still doing his best under real trouble, +and another eating contentedly the bread of idleness when there seems +nothing wrong except a total lack of energy. The old men go to the +workhouse, the young men go, the women and the children; if they are out +one month the next sees their return. These again are but broken reeds to +rely upon. The golden harvest might rot upon the ground for all their +gathering, the grass wither and die as it stands, without the touch of the +scythe, the very waggons and carts fall to pieces in the sheds. There is +no work to be got out of them. + +The village, too, has its rookery, though not quite in the same sense as +the city. Traced to its beginning, it is generally found to have +originated upon a waste piece of ground, where some squatters settled and +built their cabins. These, by the growth of better houses around, and the +rise of property, have now become of some value, not so much for the +materials as the site. To the original hovels additions have been made by +degrees, and fresh huts squeezed in till every inch of space is as closely +occupied as in a back court of the metropolis. Within the cottages are low +pitched, dirty, narrow, and contracted, without proper conveniences, or +even a yard or court. + +The social condition of the inhabitants is unpleasant to contemplate. The +young men, as they grow up, arrive at an exaggerated idea of the value of +their parents' property--the cottage of three rooms--and bitter +animosities arise between them. One is accused of having had his share out +in money; another has got into trouble and had his fine paid for him; the +eldest was probably born before wedlock; so there are plenty of materials +for recrimination. Then one, or even two of them bring home a wife, or at +least a woman, and three families live beneath a single roof--with results +it is easy to imagine, both as regards bickering and immorality. They have +no wish to quit the place and enter cottages with better accommodation: +they might rent others of the farmers, but they prefer to be independent, +and, besides, will not move lest they should lose their rights. Very +likely a few lodgers are taken in to add to the confusion. As regularly as +clockwork cross summonses are taken out before the Bench, and then the +women on either side reveal an unequalled power of abuse and loquacity, +leaving a decided impression that it is six to one and half a dozen to the +other. + +These rookeries do not furnish forth burglars and accomplished +pickpockets, like those of cities, but they do send out a gang of lazy, +scamping fellows and coarse women, who are almost useless. If their +employer does not please them--if he points out that a waste of time has +taken place, or that something has been neglected--off they go, for, +having a hole to creep into, they do not care an atom whether they lose a +job or not. The available hands, therefore, upon whom the farmers can +count are always very much below the sum total of the able-bodied +population. There must be deducted the idle men and women, the drunkards, +the never satisfied, as the lad who sued every master; the workhouse +families, the rookery families, and those who every harvest leave the +place, and wander a great distance in search of exceptionally high wages. +When all these are subtracted, the residue remaining is often insufficient +to do the work of the farms in a proper manner. It is got through somehow +by scratch-packs, so to say--men picked up from the roads, aged men who +cannot do much, but whose energy puts the younger fellows to shame, lads +paid far beyond the value of the work they actually accomplish. + +Work done in this way is, of course, incomplete and unsatisfactory, and +the fact supplies one of the reasons why farmers seem disinclined to pay +high wages. It is not because they object to pay well for hard work, but +because they cannot get the hard work. There is consequently a growing +reliance upon floating labour--upon the men and women who tramp round +every season--rather than on the resident population. Even in the absence +of any outward agitation--of a strike or open movement in that +direction--the farmer has considerable difficulties to contend with in +procuring labour. He has still further difficulties in managing it when he +has got it. Most labourers have their own peculiar way of finishing a job; +and however much that style of doing it may run counter to the farmer's +idea of the matter in hand, he has to let the man proceed after his own +fashion. If he corrected, or showed the man what he wanted, he would run +the risk of not getting it done at all. There is no one so thoroughly +obstinate as an ignorant labourer full of his own consequence. Giving, +then, full credit to those men whose honest endeavours to fulfil their +duty have already been acknowledged, it is a complete delusion to suppose +that all are equally manly. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + + +THE COTTAGE CHARTER. FOUR-ACRE FARMERS + + +The songs sung by the labourer at the alehouse or the harvest home are not +of his own composing. The tunes whistled by the ploughboy as he goes down +the road to his work in the dawn were not written for him. Green meads and +rolling lands of wheat--true fields of the cloth of gold--have never yet +inspired those who dwell upon them with songs uprising from the soil. The +solitude of the hills over whose tops the summer sun seems to linger so +long has not filled the shepherd's heart with a wistful yearning that must +be expressed in verse or music. Neither he nor the ploughman in the vale +have heard or seen aught that stirs them in Nature. The shepherd has never +surprised an Immortal reclining on the thyme under the shade of a hawthorn +bush at sunny noontide; nor has the ploughman seen the shadowy outline of +a divine huntress through the mist that clings to the wood across the +field. + +These people have no myths; no heroes. They look back on no Heroic Age, no +Achilles, no Agamemnon, and no Homer. The past is vacant. The have not +even a 'Wacht am Rhein' or 'Marseillaise' to chaunt in chorus with +quickened step and flashing eye. No; nor even a ballad of the hearth, +handed down from father to son, to be sung at home festivals, as a +treasured silver tankard is brought out to drink the health of a honoured +guest. Ballads there are in old books--ballads of days when the yew bow +was in every man's hands, and war and the chase gave life a colour; but +they are dead. A cart comes slowly down the road, and the labourer with it +sings as he jogs along; but, if you listen, it tells you nothing of wheat, +or hay, or flocks and herds, nothing of the old gods and heroes. It is a +street ditty such as you may hear the gutter arabs yelling in London, and +coming from a music hall. + +So, too, in material things--in the affairs of life, in politics, and +social hopes--the labourer has no well-defined creed of race. He has no +genuine programme of the future; that which is put forward in his name is +not from him. Some years ago, talking with an aged labourer in a district +where at that time no 'agitation' had taken place, I endeavoured to get +from him something like a definition of the wants of his class. He had +lived many years, and worked all the while in the field; what was his +experience of their secret wishes? what was the Cottage Charter? It took +some time to get him to understand what was required; he had been ready +enough previously to grumble about this or that detail, but when it came +to principles he was vague. The grumbles, the complaints, and so forth, +had never been codified. However, by degrees I got at it, and very simple +it was:--Point 1, Better wages; (2) more cottages; (3) good-sized gardens; +(4) 'larning' for the children. That was the sum of the cottager's +creed--his own genuine aspirations. + +Since then every one of these points has been obtained, or substantial +progress made towards it. Though wages are perhaps slightly lower or +rather stationary at the present moment, yet they are much higher than +used to be the case. At the same time vast importations of foreign food +keep the necessaries of life at a lower figure. The number of cottages +available has been greatly increased--hardly a landlord but could produce +accounts of sums of money spent in this direction. To almost all of these +large gardens are now attached. Learning for the children is provided by +the schools erected in every single parish, for the most part by the +exertions of the owners and occupiers of land. + +Practically, therefore, the four points of the real Cottage Charter have +been attained, or as nearly as is possible. Why, then, is it that +dissatisfaction is still expressed? The reply is, because a new programme +has been introduced to the labourer from without. It originated in no +labourer's mind, it is not the outcome of a genuine feeling widespread +among the masses, nor is it the heartbroken call for deliverance issuing +from the lips of the poet-leader of a downtrodden people. It is totally +foreign to the cottage proper--something new, strange, and as yet scarcely +understood in its full meaning by those who nominally support it. + +The points of the new Cottage Charter are--(1) The confiscation of large +estates; (2) the subdivision of land; (3) the abolition of the laws of +settlement of land; (4) the administration of the land by the authorities +of State; (5) the confiscation of glebe lands for division and +distribution; (6) the abolition of Church tithes; (7) extension of the +county franchise; (8) education gratis, free of fees, or payment of any +kind; (9) high wages, winter and summer alike, irrespective of season, +prosperity, or adversity. No. 6 is thrown in chiefly for the purpose of an +appearance of identity of interest between the labourer and the tenant +against the Church. Of late it has rather been the cue of the leaders of +the agitation to promote, or seem to promote, a coalition between the +labourer and the dissatisfied tenant, thereby giving the movement a more +colourable pretence in the eyes of the public. Few tenants, however +dissatisfied, have been deceived by the shallow device. + +This programme emanated from no carter or shepherd, ploughman or fogger. +It was not thought out under the hedge when the June roses decked the +bushes; nor painfully written down on the deal table in the cottage while +the winter rain pattered against the window, and, coming down the wide +chimney, hissed upon the embers. It was brought to the cottage door from a +distance; it has been iterated and reiterated till at last some begin to +think they really do want all these things. But with the majority even now +the propaganda falls flat. They do not enter into the spirit of it. No. 9 +they do understand; that appeals direct, and men may be excused if, with a +view which as yet extends so short a space around, they have not grasped +the fact that wages cannot by any artificial combination whatever be kept +at a high level. The idea of high wages brings a mass of labourers +together; they vote for what they are instructed to vote, and are thus +nominally pledged to the other eight points of the new charter Such a +conception as the confiscation and subdivision of estates never occurred +to the genuine labourers. + +An aged man was listening to a graphic account of what the new state of +things would be like. There would be no squire, no parson, no woods or +preserves--all grubbed for cabbage gardens--no parks, no farmers. 'No +farmers,' said the old fellow, 'then who's to pay I my wages?' There he +hit the blot, no doubt. If the first four points of the new charter were +carried into effect, agricultural wages would no longer exist. But if such +a consummation depends upon the action of the cottager it will be a long +time coming. The idea did not originate with him--he cares nothing for +it--and can only be got to support it under the guise of an agitation for +wages. Except by persistent stirring from without he cannot be got to move +even then. The labourer, in fact, is not by any means such a fool as his +own leaders endeavour to make him out. He is perfectly well aware that the +farmer, or any person who stands in the position of the farmer, cannot pay +the same money in winter as in summer. + +Two new cottages of a very superior character were erected in the corner +of an arable field, abutting on the highway. As left by the builders a +more uninviting spot could scarcely be imagined. The cottages themselves +were well designed and well built, but the surroundings were like a +wilderness. Heaps of rubbish here, broken bricks there, the ground +trampled hard as the road itself. No partition from the ploughed field +behind beyond a mere shallow trench enclosing what was supposed to be the +garden. Everything bleak, unpromising, cold, and unpleasant. Two families +went into these cottages, the men working on the adjoining farm. The +aspect of the place immediately began to change. The rubbish was removed, +the best of it going to improve the paths and approaches; a quick-set +hedge was planted round the enclosure. Evening after evening, be the +weather what it might, these two men were in that garden at work--after a +long day in the fields. In the dinner hour even they sometimes snatched a +few minutes to trim something. Their spades turned over the whole of the +soil, and planting commenced. Plots were laid out for cabbage, plots for +potatoes, onions, parsnips. + +Then having provided necessaries for the immediate future they set about +preparing for extras. Fruit trees--apple, plum, and damson--were planted; +also some roses. Next beehives appeared and were elevated on stands and +duly protected from the rain. The last work was the building of +pigsties--rude indeed and made of a few slabs--but sufficient to answer +the purpose. Flowers in pots appeared in the windows, flowers appeared +beside the garden paths. The change was so complete and so quickly +effected I could hardly realise that so short a time since there had been +nothing there but a blank open space. Persons travelling along the road +could not choose but look on and admire the transformation. + +I had often been struck with the flourishing appearance of cottage +gardens, but then those gardens were of old date and had reached that +perfection in course of years. But here the thing seemed to grow up under +one's eyes. All was effected by sheer energy. Instead of spending their +evenings wastefully at 'public,' these men went out into their gardens and +made what was a desert literally bloom. Nor did they seem conscious of +doing anything extraordinary, but worked away in the most matter-of-fact +manner, calling no one's attention to their progress. It would be hard to +say which garden of the two showed the better result. Their wives are +tidy, their children clean, their cottages grow more cosy and homelike day +by day; yet they work in the fields that come up to their very doors, and +receive nothing but the ordinary agricultural wages of the district. + +This proves what can be done when the agricultural labourer really wants +to do it. And in a very large number of cases it must further be admitted +that he does want to do it, and succeeds. If any one when passing through +a rural district will look closely at the cottages and gardens he will +frequently find evidence of similar energy, and not unfrequently of +something approaching very nearly to taste. For why does the labourer +train honeysuckle up his porch, and the out-of-door grape up the southern +end of his house? Why does he let the houseleek remain on the roof; why +trim and encourage the thick growth of ivy that clothes the chimney? +Certainly not for utility, nor pecuniary profit. It is because he has some +amount of appreciation of the beauty of flowers, of vine leaf, and green +ivy. Men like these are the real backbone of our peasantry. They are not +the agitators; it is the idle hang-dogs who form the disturbing element in +the village. + +The settled agricultural labourer, of all others, has the least inducement +to strike or leave his work. The longer he can stay in one place the +better for him in many ways. His fruit-trees, which he planted years ago, +are coming to perfection, and bear sufficient fruit in favourable years +not only to give him some variety of diet, but to bring in a sum in hard +cash with which to purchase extras. The soil of the garden, long manured +and dug, is twice as fertile as when he first disturbed the earth. The +hedges have grown high, and keep off the bitter winds. In short, the place +is home, and he sits under his own vine and fig-tree. It is not to his +advantage to leave this and go miles away. It is different with the +mechanic who lives in a back court devoid of sunshine, hardly visited by +the fresh breeze, without a tree, without a yard of earth to which to +become attached. The factory closes, the bell is silent, the hands are +discharged; provided he can get fresh employment it matters little. He +leaves the back court without regret, and enters another in a distant +town. But an agricultural labourer who has planted his own place feels an +affection for it. The young men wander and are restless; the middle-aged +men who have once anchored do not like to quit. They have got the four +points of their own genuine charter; those who would infuse further vague +hopes are not doing them any other service than to divert them from the +substance to the shadow. + +Past those two new cottages which have been mentioned there runs a road +which is a main thoroughfare. Along this road during the year this change +was worked there walked a mournful procession--men and women on tramp. +Some of these were doubtless rogues and vagabonds by nature and choice; +but many, very many, were poor fellows who had really lost employment, and +were gradually becoming degraded to the company of the professional +beggar. The closing of collieries, mines, workshops, iron furnaces, &c., +had thrown hundreds on the mercy of chance charity, and compelled them to +wander to and fro. How men like these on tramp must have envied the +comfortable cottages, the well-stocked gardens, the pigsties, the +beehives, and the roses of the labourers! + +If the labourer has never gone up on the floodtide of prosperity to the +champagne wages of the miner, neither has he descended to the woe which +fell on South Wales when children searched the dust-heaps for food, nor to +that suffering which forces those whose instinct is independence to the +soup-kitchen. He has had, and still has, steady employment at a rate of +wages sufficient, as is shown by the appearance of his cottage itself, to +maintain him in comparative comfort. The furnace may be blown out, and +strong men may ask themselves, What shall we do next? But still the plough +turns up the earth morning after morning. The colliery may close, but +still the corn ripens, and extra wages are paid to the harvest men. + +This continuous employment without even a fear of cessation is an +advantage, the value of which it is difficult to estimate. His wages are +not only sufficient to maintain him, he can even save a little. The +benefit clubs in so many villages are a proof of it--each member +subscribes so much. Whether conducted on a 'sound financial basis' or not, +the fact of the subscriptions cannot be denied, nor that assistance is +derived from them. The Union itself is supported in the same way; proving +that the wages, however complained of, are sufficient, at any rate, to +permit of subscriptions. + +It is held out to the labourer, as an inducement to agitate briskly, that, +in time, a state of things will be brought about when every man will have +a small farm of four or five acres upon which to live comfortably, +independent of a master. Occasional instances, however, of labourers +endeavouring to exist upon a few acres have already been observed, and +illustrate the practical working of the scheme. In one case a labourer +occupied a piece of ground, about three acres in extent, at a low rental +paid to the lord of the manor, the spot having originally been waste, +though the soil was fairly good. He started under favourable conditions, +because he possessed a cottage and garden and a pair of horses with which +he did a considerable amount of hauling. + +He now set up as a farmer, ploughed and sowed, dug and weeded, kept his +own hours, and went into the market and walked about as independent as any +one. After a while the three acres began to absorb nearly all his time, so +that the hauling, which was the really profitable part of the business, +had to be neglected. Then, the ready money not coming in so fast, the +horses had to go without corn, and pick up what they could along the +roadside, on the sward, and out of the hedges. They had, of course, to be +looked after while thus feeding, which occupied two of the children, so +that these could neither go to school nor earn anything by working on the +adjacent farms. The horses meantime grew poor in condition; the winter +tried them greatly from want of proper fodder; and when called upon to do +hauling they were not equal to the task. In the country, at a distance +from towns, there is not always a good market for vegetables, even when +grown. The residents mostly supply themselves, and what is raised for +export has to be sold at wholesale prices. + +The produce of the three acres consequently did not come up to the +tenant's expectation, particularly as potatoes, on account of the disease, +could not be relied on. Meantime he had no weekly money coming in +regularly, and his wife and family had often to assist him, diminishing +their own earnings at the same time; while he was in the dilemma that if +he did hauling he must employ and pay a man to work on the 'farm,' and if +he worked himself he could not go out with his team. In harvest time, when +the smaller farmers would have hired his horses, waggon, and himself and +family to assist them, he had to get in his own harvest, and so lost the +hard cash. + +He now discovered that there was one thing he had omitted, and which was +doubtless the cause why he did not flourish as he should have done +according to his calculations. All the agriculturists around kept live +stock--he had none. Here was the grand secret--it was stock that paid: he +must have a cow. So he set to work industriously enough, and put up a +shed. Then, partly by his own small savings, partly by the assistance of +the members of the sect to which he belonged, he purchased the desired +animal and sold her milk. In summer this really answered fairly well while +there was green food for nothing in plenty by the side of little-frequented +roads, whither the cow was daily led. But so soon as the winter approached +the same difficulty as with the horses arose, i.e., scarcity of fodder. +The cow soon got miserably poor, while the horses fell off yet further, if +that were possible. The calf that arrived died; next, one of the horses. +The 'hat' was sent round again, and a fresh horse bought; the spring came +on, and there seemed another chance. What with milking and attending to +the cow, and working on the 'farm,' scarcely an hour remained in which to +earn money with the horses. No provision could be laid by for the winter. +The live stock--the cow and horses--devoured part of the produce of the +three acres, so that there was less to sell. + +Another winter finished it. The cow had to be sold, but a third time the +'hat' was sent round and saved the horses. Grown wiser now, the 'farmer' +stuck to his hauling, and only worked his plot at odd times. In this way, +by hauling and letting out his team in harvest, and working himself and +family at the same time for wages, he earned a good deal of money, and +kept afloat very comfortably. He made no further attempt to live out of +the 'farm,' which was now sown with one or two crops only in the same +rotation as a field, and no longer cultivated on the garden system. Had it +not been for the subscriptions he must have given it up entirely long +before. Bitter experience demonstrated how false the calculations had been +which seemed to show--on the basis of the produce of a small +allotment--that a man might live on three or four acres. + +He is not the only example of an extravagant estimate being put upon the +possible product of land: it is a fallacy that has been fondly believed in +by more logical minds than the poor cottager. That more may be got out of +the soil than is the case at present is perfectly true; the mistake lies +in the proposed method of doing it. + +There was a piece of land between thirty and forty acres in extent, +chiefly arable, which chanced to come into the possession of a gentleman, +who made no pretence to a knowledge of agriculture, but was naturally +desirous of receiving the highest rental. Up to that time it had been +occupied by a farmer at thirty shillings per acre, which was thought the +full value. He did not particularly want it, as it lay separated from the +farm proper, and gave it up with the greatest alacrity when asked to do so +in favour of a new tenant. This man turned out to be a villager--a +blustering, ignorant fellow--who had, however, saved a small sum by +hauling, which had been increased by the receipt of a little legacy. He +was confident that he could show the farmers how to do it--he had worked +at plough, had reaped, and tended cattle, and had horses of his own, and +was quite sure that farming was a profitable business, and that the +tenants had their land dirt cheap. He 'knowed' all about it. + +He offered three pounds an acre for the piece at once, which was accepted, +notwithstanding a warning conveyed to the owner that his new tenant had +scarcely sufficient money to pay a year's rent at that rate. But so rapid +a rise in the value of his land quite dazzled the proprietor, and the +labourer--for he was really nothing better, though fortunate enough to +have a little money--entered on his farm. When this was known, it was +triumphantly remarked that if a man could actually pay double the former +rent, what an enormous profit the tenant-farmers must have been making! +Yet they wanted to reduce the poor man's wages. On the other hand, there +were not wanting hints that the man's secret idea was to exhaust the land +and then leave it. But this was not the case--he was honestly in earnest, +only he had got an exaggerated notion of the profits of farming. It is +scarcely necessary to say that the rent for the third half year was not +forthcoming, and the poor fellow lost his all. The land then went begging +at the old price, for it had become so dirty--full of weeds from want of +proper cleaning--that it was some time before any one would take it. + +In a third case the attempt of a labouring man to live upon a small plot +of land was successful--at least for some time. But it happened in this +way. The land he occupied, about six acres, was situated on the outskirts +of a populous town. It was moderately rented and of fairly good quality. +His method of procedure was to cultivate a small portion--as much as he +could conveniently manage without having to pay too much for +assistance--as a market garden. Being close to his customers, and with a +steady demand at good prices all the season, this paid very well indeed. +The remainder was ploughed and cropped precisely the same as the fields of +larger farms. For these crops he could always get a decent price. The +wealthy owners of the villas scattered about, some keeping as many horses +as a gentleman with a country seat, were glad to obtain fresh fodder for +their stables, and often bought the crops standing, which to him was +especially profitable, because he could not well afford the cost of the +labour he must employ to harvest them. + +In addition, he kept several pigs, which were also profitable, because the +larger part of their food cost him nothing but the trouble of fetching it. +The occupants of the houses in the town were glad to get rid of the refuse +vegetables, &c.; of these he had a constant supply. The pigs, too, helped +him with manure. Next he emptied ash-pits in the town, and sifted the +cinders; the better part went on his own fire, the other on his land. As +he understood gardening, he undertook the care of several small gardens, +which brought in a little money. All the rubbish, leaves, trimmings, &c., +which he swept from the gardens he burnt, and spread the ashes abroad to +fertilise his miniature farm. + +In spring he beat carpets, and so made more shillings; he had also a small +shed, or workshop, and did rough carpentering. His horse did his own work, +and occasionally that of others; so that in half a dozen different ways he +made money independent of the produce of his land. That produce, too, paid +well, because of the adjacent town, and he was able to engage assistance +now and then. Yet, even with all these things, it was hard work, and +required economical management to eke it out. Still it was done, and under +the same conditions doubtless might be done by others. But then everything +lies in those conditions. The town at hand, the knowledge of gardening, +carpentering, and so on, made just all the difference. + +If the land were subdivided in the manner the labourer is instructed would +be so advantageous, comparatively few of the plots would be near towns. +Some of the new 'farmers' would find themselves in the centre of Salisbury +Plain, with the stern trilithons of Stonehenge looking down upon their +efforts. The occupier of a plot of four acres in such a position--many +miles from the nearest town--would experience a hard lot indeed if he +attempted to live by it. If he grew vegetables for sale, the cost of +carriage would diminish their value; if for food, he could scarcely +subsist upon cabbage and onions all the year round. To thoroughly work +four acres would occupy his whole time, nor would the farmers care for the +assistance of a man who could only come now and then in an irregular +manner. There would be no villa gardens to attend to, no ash-pits to +empty, no tubs of refuse for the pig, no carpets to beat, no one who +wanted rough carpentering done. He could not pay any one to assist him in +the cultivation of the plot. + +And then, how about his clothes, boots and shoes, and so forth? Suppose +him with a family, where would their boots and shoes come from? Without +any wages--that is, hard cash received weekly--it would be next to +impossible to purchase these things. A man could hardly be condemned to a +more miserable existence. In the case of the tenant of a few acres who +made a fair living near a large town, it must be remembered that he +understood two trades, gardening and carpentering, and found constant +employment at these, which in all probability would indeed have maintained +him without any land at all. But it is not every man who possesses +technical knowledge of this kind, or who can turn his hand to several +things. Imagine a town surrounded by two or three thousand such small +occupiers, let them be never so clever; where would the extra employment +come from; where would be the ashpits to empty? Where one could do well, a +dozen could do nothing. If the argument be carried still further, and we +imagine the whole country so cut up and settled, the difficulty only +increases, because every man living (or starving) on his own plot would be +totally unable to pay another to help him, or to get employment himself. +No better method could be contrived to cause a fall in the value of +labour. + +The examples of France and China are continually quoted in support of +subdivision. In the case of France, let us ask whether any of our stalwart +labourers would for a single week consent to live as the French peasant +does? Would they forego their white, wheaten bread, and eat rye bread in +its place? Would they take kindly to bread which contained a large +proportion of meal ground from the edible chestnut? Would they feel merry +over vegetable soups? Verily the nature of the man must change first; and +we have read something about the leopard and his spots. You cannot raise +beef and mutton upon four acres and feed yourself at the same time; if you +raise bacon you must sell it in order to buy clothes. + +The French peasant saves by stinting, and puts aside a franc by pinching +both belly and back. He works extremely hard, and for long hours. Our +labourers can work as hard as he, but it must be in a different way; they +must have plenty to eat and drink, and they do not understand little +economies. + +China, we are told, however, supports the largest population in the world +in this manner. Not a particle is wasted, not a square foot of land but +bears something edible. The sewage of towns is utilised, and causes crops +to spring forth; every scrap of refuse manures a garden. The Chinese have +attained that ideal agriculture which puts the greatest amount into the +soil, takes the greatest amount out of it, and absolutely wastes nothing. +The picture is certainly charming. + +There are, however, a few considerations on the other side. The question +arises whether our labourers would enjoy a plump rat for supper? The +question also arises why the Six Companies are engaged in transhipping +Chinese labour from China to America? In California the Chinese work at a +rate of wages absolutely impossible to the white man--hence the Chinese +difficulty there. In Queensland a similar thing is going on. Crowds of +Chinese enter, or have entered, the country eager for work. If the +agriculture of China is so perfect; if the sewage is utilised; if every +man has his plot; if the population cannot possibly become too great, why +on earth are the Chinese labourers so anxious to get to America or +Australia, and to take the white man's wages? And is that system of +agriculture so perfect? It is not long since the Chinese Ambassador +formally conveyed the thanks of his countrymen for the generous assistance +forwarded from England during the late fearful famine in China. The +starvation of multitudes of wretched human beings is a ghastly comment +upon this ideal agriculture. The Chinese yellow spectre has even +threatened England; hints have been heard of importing Chinese into this +country to take that silver and gold which our own men disdained. Those +who desire to destroy our land system should look round them for a more +palatable illustration than is afforded by the great Chinese problem. + +The truth in the matter seems to be this. A labourer does very well with a +garden; he can do very well, too, if he has an allotment in addition, +provided it be not too far from home. Up to a quarter of an acre--in some +cases half an acre--it answers, because he can cultivate it at odd times, +and so receive his weekly wages without interruption. But when the plot +exceeds what he can cultivate in this way--when he has to give whole weeks +to it--then, of course, he forfeits the cash every Saturday night, and +soon begins to lose ground. The original garden of moderate size yielded +very highly in proportion to its extent, because of the amount of labour +expended on it, and because it was well manured. But three or four acres, +to yield in like degree, require an amount of manure which it is quite out +of a labourer's power to purchase; and he cannot keep live stock to +produce it. Neither can he pay men to work for him consequently, instead +of being more highly cultivated than the large farms, such plots would not +be kept so clean and free from weeds, or be so well manured and deeply +ploughed as the fields of the regular agriculturist. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + + +LANDLORDS' DIFFICULTIES. THE LABOURER AS A POWER. MODERN CLERGY + + +The altered tone of the labouring population has caused the position of +the landlord, especially if resident, to be one of considerable +difficulty. Something like diplomatic tact is necessary in dealing with +the social and political problems which now press themselves upon the +country gentleman. Forces are at work which are constantly endeavouring to +upset the village equilibrium, and it is quite in vain to ignore their +existence. However honestly he may desire peace and goodwill to reign, it +is impossible for a man to escape the influence of his own wealth and +property. These compel him to be a sort of centre around which everything +revolves. His duties extend far beyond the set, formal lines--the easy +groove of old times--and are concerned with matters which were once +thought the exclusive domain of the statesman or the philosopher. + +The growth of a public opinion among the rural population is a great fact +which cannot be overlooked. Some analogy may be traced between the awaking +of a large class, hitherto almost silent, and the strange new developments +which occur in the freshly-settled territories of the United States. +There, all kinds of social experiments are pushed to the extreme +characteristic of American energy. A Salt Lake City and civilised +polygamy, and a variety of small communities endeavouring to work out new +theories of property and government, attest a frame of mind escaped from +the control of tradition, and groping its way to the future. Nothing so +extravagant, of course, distinguishes the movement among the agricultural +labourers of this country. There have been strikes; indignation meetings +held expressly for the purpose of exciting public opinion; an attempt to +experimentalise by a kind of joint-stock farming, labourers holding +shares; and a preaching of doctrines which savour much of Communism. There +have been marches to London, and annual gatherings on hill tops. These are +all within the pale of law, and outrage no social customs. But they +proclaim a state of mind restless and unsatisfied, striving for something +new, and not exactly knowing what. + +Without a vote for the most part, without an all-embracing +organisation--for the Union is somewhat limited in extent--with few +newspapers expressing their views, with still fewer champions in the upper +ranks, the agricultural labourers have become in a sense a power in the +land. It is a power that is felt rather individually than collectively--it +affects isolated places, but these in the aggregate reach importance. This +power presses on the landlord--the resident country gentleman--upon one +side; upon the other, the dissatisfied tenant-farmers present a rugged +front. + +As a body the tenant-farmers are loyal to their landlords--in some cases +enthusiastically loyal. It cannot, however, be denied that this is not +universal. There are men who, though unable to put forth a substantial +grievance, are ceaselessly agitating. The landlord, in view of +unfavourable seasons, remits a percentage of rent. He relaxes certain +clauses in leases, he reduces the ground game, he shows a disposition +to meet reasonable, and even unreasonable, demands. It is useless. +There exists a class of tenant-farmers who are not to be satisfied +with the removal of grievances in detail. They are animated by a +principle--something far beyond such trifles. Unconsciously, no doubt, +in many cases that principle approximates very nearly to the doctrine +proclaimed in so many words by the communistic circles of cities. It +amounts to a total abolition of the present system of land tenure. The +dissatisfied tenant does not go so far as minute subdivisions of land +into plots of a few acres. He pauses at the moderate and middle way which +would make the tenant of three or four hundred acres the owner of the soil. +In short, he would step into the landlord's place. + +Of course, many do not go so far as this; still there is a class of +farmers who are for ever writing to the papers, making speeches, +protesting, and so on, till the landlord feels that, do what he may, he +will be severely criticised. Even if personally insulted he must betray no +irritation, or desire to part with the tenant, lest he be accused of +stifling opinion. Probably no man in England is so systematically +browbeaten all round as the country gentleman. Here are two main +divisions--one on each side--ever pressing upon him, and, besides these, +there are other forces at work. A village, in fact, at the present day, is +often a perfect battle-ground of struggling parties. + +When the smouldering labour difficulty comes to a point in any particular +district the representatives of the labourers lose no time in illustrating +the cottager's case by contrast with the landlord's position. He owns so +many thousand acres, producing an income of so many thousand pounds. +Hodge, who has just received notice of a reduction of a shilling per week, +survives on bacon and cabbage. Most mansions have a small home farm +attached, where, of course, some few men are employed in the direct +service of the landlord. This home farm becomes the bone of contention. +Here, they say, is a man with many thousands a year, who, in the midst of +bitter wintry weather, has struck a shilling a week off the wages of his +poor labourers. But the fact is that the landlord's representative--his +steward--has been forced to this step by the action and opinion of the +tenant-farmers. + +The argument is very cogent and clear. They say, 'We pay a rent which is +almost as much as the land will bear; we suffer by foreign competition, +bad seasons and so on, the market is falling, and we are compelled to +reduce our labour expenditure. But then our workmen say that at the home +farm the wages paid are a shilling or two higher, and therefore they will +not accept a reduction. Now you must reduce your wages or your tenants +must suffer.' It is like a tradesman with a large independent income +giving his workmen high wages out of that independent income, whilst other +tradesmen, who have only their business to rely on, are compelled by this +example to pay more than they can afford. This is obviously an unjust and +even cruel thing. Consequently though a landlord may possess an income of +many thousands, he cannot, without downright injustice to his tenants, pay +his immediate _employés_ more than those tenants find it possible to pay. + +Such is the simple explanation of what has been described as a piece of +terrible tyranny. The very reduction of rent made by the landlord to the +tenant is seized as a proof by the labourer that the farmer, having less +now to pay, can afford to give him more money. Thus the last move of the +labour party has been to urge the tenant-farmer to endeavour to become his +own landlord. On the one hand, certain dissatisfied tenants have made use +of the labour agitation to bring pressure upon the landlord to reduce +rent, and grant this and that privilege. They have done their best, and in +great part succeeded, in getting up a cry that rent must come down, that +the landlord's position must be altered, and so forth. On the other hand, +the labour party try to use the dissatisfied tenant as a fulcrum by means +of which to bring their lever to bear upon the landlord. Both together, by +every possible method, endeavour to enlist popular sympathy against him. + +There exists a party in cities who are animated by the most extraordinary +rancour against landlords without exception--good, bad, and +indifferent--just because they are landlords. This party welcomes the +agitating labourer and the discontented tenant with open arms, and the +chorus swells still louder. Now the landlords, as a body, are quite aware +of the difficulties under which farming has been conducted of late, and +exhibit a decided inclination to meet and assist the tenant. But it by no +means suits the agitator to admit this; he would of the two rather the +landlord showed an impracticable disposition, in order that there might be +grounds for violent declamation. + +Fortunately there is a solid substratum of tenants whose sound common +sense prevents them from listening to the rather enchanting cry, 'Every +man his own landlord.' They may desire and obtain a reduction of rent, but +they treat it as a purely business transaction, and there lies all the +difference. They do not make the shilling an acre less the groundwork of a +revolution; because ten per cent, is remitted at the audit they do not cry +for confiscation. But it is characteristic of common sense to remain +silent, as it is of extravagance to make a noise. Thus the opinion of the +majority of tenants is not heard; but the restless minority write and +speak; the agitating labourer, through his agent, writes and speaks, and +the anti-landlord party in cities write and speak. A pleasant position for +the landlord this! Anxious to meet reasonable wishes he is confronted with +unreasonable demands, and abused all round. + +Besides the labour difficulty, which has been so blazed abroad as to +obscure the rest, there are really many other questions agitating the +village. The school erected under the Education Act, whilst it is doing +good work, is at the same time in many cases a scene of conflict. The +landlord can hardly remain aloof, try how he will, because his larger +tenants are so closely interested. He has probably given the land and +subscribed heavily--a school board has been avoided; but, of course, there +is a committee of management, which is composed of members of every party +and religious denomination. That is fair enough, and the actual work +accomplished is really very good. But, if outwardly peace, it is inwardly +contention. First, the agitating labourer is strongly of opinion that, +besides giving the land and subscribing, and paying a large voluntary +rate, the landlord ought to defray the annual expenses and save him the +weekly pence. The sectarian bodies, though neutralised by their own +divisions, are ill-affected behind their mask, and would throw it off if +they got the opportunity. The one thing, and the one thing only, that +keeps them quiet is the question of expense. Suppose by a united +effort--and probably on a poll of the parish the chapel-goers in mere +numbers would exceed the church people--they shake off the landlord and +his party, and proceed to a school board as provided by the Act? Well, +then they must find the annual expenses, and these must be raised by a +rate. + +Now at present the cottager loudly grumbles because he is asked to +contribute a few coppers; but suppose he were called upon to pay a heavy +rate? Possibly he might in such a case turn round against his present +leaders, and throw them overboard in disgust. Seeing this possibility all +too clearly, the sectarian bodies remain quiescent. They have no real +grievance, because their prejudices are carefully respected; but it is not +the nature of men to prefer being governed, even to their good, to +governing. Consequently, though no battle royal takes place, it is a +mistake to suppose that because 'education' is now tolerably quiet there +is universal satisfaction. Just the reverse is true, and under the surface +there is a constant undermining process proceeding. Without any downright +collision there is a distinct division into opposing ranks. + +Another matter which looms larger as time goes on arises out of the +gradual--in some cases the rapid--filling up of the village churchyards. +It is melancholy to think that so solemn a subject should threaten to +become a ground for bitter controversy; but that much animosity of feeling +has already appeared is well known. Already many village graveyards are +overcrowded, and it is becoming difficult to arrange for the future. From +a practical point of view there is really but little difficulty, because +the landlords in almost every instance are willing to give the necessary +ground. The contention arises in another form, which it would be out of +place to enter upon here. It will be sufficient to recall the fact that +such a question is approaching. + +Rural sanitation, again, comes to the front day by day. The prevention of +overcrowding in cottages, the disposal of sewage, the supply of +water--these and similar matters press upon the attention of the +authorities. Out of consideration for the pockets of the ratepayers--many +of whom are of the poorest class--these things are perhaps rather shelved +than pushed forward; but it is impossible to avoid them altogether. Every +now and then something has to be done. Whatever takes place, of course the +landlord, as the central person, comes in for the chief share of the +burden. If the rates increase, on the one hand, the labourers complain +that their wages are not sufficient to pay them; and, on the other, the +tenants state that the pressure on the agriculturist is already as much as +he can sustain. The labourer expects the landlord to relieve him; the +tenant grumbles if he also is not relieved. Outside and beyond the +landlord's power as the owner of the soil, as magistrate and _ex-officio_ +guardian, and so on, he cannot divest himself of a personal--a +family--influence, which at once gives him a leading position, and causes +everything to be expected of him. He must arbitrate here, persuade there, +compel yonder, conciliate everybody, and subscribe all round. + +This was, perhaps, easy enough years ago, but it is now a very different +matter. No little diplomatic skill is needful to balance parties, and +preserve at least an outward peace in the parish. He has to note the +variations of public opinion, and avoid giving offence. In his official +capacity as magistrate the same difficulty arises. One of the most +delicate tasks that the magistracy have had set them of recent years has +been arbitrating between tenant and man--between, in effect, capital and +labour. That is not, of course, the legal, but it is the true, definition. +It is a most invidious position, and it speaks highly for the scrupulous +justice with which the law has been administered that a watchful and +jealous--a bitterly inimical party--ever ready, above all things, to +attempt a sensation--have not been able to detect a magistrate giving a +partial decision. + +In cases which involve a question of wages or non-fulfilment of contract +it has often happened that a purely personal element has been introduced. +The labourer asserts that he has been unfairly treated, that implied +promises have been broken, perquisites withheld, and abuse lavished upon +him. On the opposite side, the master alleges that he has been made a +convenience--the man staying with him in winter, when his services were of +little use, and leaving in summer; that his neglect has caused injury to +accrue to cattle; that he has used bad language. Here is a conflict of +class against class--feeling against feeling. The point in dispute has, of +course, to be decided by evidence, but whichever way evidence leads the +magistrates to pronounce their verdict, it is distasteful. If the labourer +is victorious, he and his friends 'crow' over the farmers; and the farmer +himself grumbles that the landlords are afraid of the men, and will never +pronounce against them. If the reverse, the labourers cry out upon the +partiality of the magistrates, who favour each other's tenants. In both +cases the decision has been given according to law. But the knowledge that +this kind of feeling exists--that he is in reality arbitrating between +capital and labour--renders the resident landlord doubly careful what +steps he takes at home in his private capacity. He hardly knows which way +to turn when a question crops up, desiring, above all things, to preserve +peace. + +It has been said that of late there has come into existence in the +political world 'a power behind Parliament.' Somewhat in the same sense it +may be said that the labourer has become a power behind the apparent +authorities of the rural community. Whether directly, or through the +discontented tenant, or by aid of the circles in cities who hold advanced +views, the labourer brings a pressure to bear upon almost every aspect of +country life. That pressure is not sufficient to break in pieces the +existing order of things; but it is sufficient to cause an unpleasant +tension. Should it increase, much of the peculiar attraction of country +life will be destroyed. Even hunting, which it would have been thought +every individual son of the soil would stand up for, is not allowed to +continue unchallenged. Displays of a most disagreeable spirit must be +fresh in the memories of all; and such instances have shown a disposition +to multiply. Besides the more public difficulties, there are also social +ones which beset the landowner. It is true that all of these do not +originate with the labourer, or even concern him, but he it dragged into +them to suit the convenience of others. 'Coquetting with a vote' is an art +tolerably well understood in these days; the labourer has not got a +nominal vote, yet he is the 'power behind,' and may be utilised. + +There is another feature of modern rural life too marked to be ignored, +and that is the increased activity of the resident clergy. This energy is +exhibited by all alike, irrespective of opinion upon ecclesiastical +questions, and concerns an inquiry into the position, of the labourer, +because for the most part it is directed towards practical objects. It +shows itself in matters that have no direct bearing upon the Church, but +are connected with the everyday life of the people. It finds work to do +outside the precincts of the Church--beyond the walls of the building. +This work is of a nature that continually increases, and as it extends +becomes more laborious. + +The parsonage is often an almost ideal presentment of peace and repose. +Trees cluster about it that in summer cast a pleasant shade, and in winter +the thick evergreen shrubberies shut out the noisy winds. Upon the one +side the green meadows go down to the brook, upon the other the cornfields +stretch away to the hills. Footpaths lead out into the wheat and beside +the hedge, where the wild flowers bloom--flowers to be lovingly studied, +food for many a day-dream. The village is out of sight in the hollow--all +is quiet and still, save for the song of the lark that drops from the sky. +The house is old, very old; the tiles dull coloured, the walls grey, the +calm dignity of age clings to it. + +A place surely this for reverie--the abode of thought. But the man within +is busy--full of action. The edge of the great questions of the day has +reached the village, and he must be up and doing. He does not, indeed, +lift the latch of the cottage or the farmhouse door indiscreetly--not +unless aware that his presence will not be resented. He is anxious to +avoid irritating individual susceptibilities. But wherever people are +gathered together, be it for sport or be it in earnest, wherever a man may +go in open day, thither he goes, and with a set purpose beforehand makes +it felt that he is there. He does not remain a passive spectator in the +background, but comes as prominently to the front as is compatible with +due courtesy. + +When the cloth is cleared at the ordinary in the market town, and the +farmers proceed to the business of their club, or chamber, he appears in +the doorway, and quietly takes a seat not far from the chair. If the +discussion be purely technical he says nothing; if it touch, as it +frequently does, upon social topics, such as those that arise out of +education, of the labour question, of the position of the farmer apart +from the mere ploughing and sowing, then he delivers his opinion. When the +local agricultural exhibition is proceeding and the annual dinner is held +he sits at the social board, and presently makes his speech. The village +benefit club holds its fête--he is there too, perhaps presiding at the +dinner, and addresses the assembled men. He takes part in the organisation +of the cottage flower show; exerts himself earnestly about the allotments +and the winter coal club, and endeavours to provide the younger people +with amusements that do not lead to evil--supporting cricket and such +games as may be played apart from gambling and liquor. + +This is but the barest catalogue of his work; there is nothing that +arises, no part of the life of the village and the country side, to which +he does not set his hand. All this is apart from abstract theology. +Religion, of course, is in his heart; but he does not carry a list of +dogmas in his hand, rather keeping his own peculiar office in the +background, knowing that many of those with whom he mingles are members of +various sects. He is simply preaching the practical Christianity of +brotherhood and goodwill. It is a work that can never be finished, and +that is ever extending. His leading idea is not to check the inevitable +motion of the age, but to lone it. + +He is not permitted to pursue this course unmolested; there are parties in +the village that silently oppose his every footstep. If the battle were +open it would be easier to win it, but it is concealed. The Church is not +often denounced from the housetop, but it is certainly denounced under the +roof. The poor and ignorant are instructed that the Church is their +greatest enemy, the upholder of tyranny, the instrument of their +subjection, synonymous with lowered wages and privation, more iniquitous +than the landowner. The clergyman is a Protestant Jesuit--a man of deepest +guile. The coal club, the cricket, the flower show, the allotments, the +village _fête_, everything in which he has a hand is simply an effort to +win the good will of the populace, to keep them quiet, lest they arise and +overthrow the property of the Church. The poor man has but a few shillings +a week, and the clergyman is the friend of the farmer, who reduces his +wages--the Church owns millions and millions sterling. How self-evident, +therefore, that the Church is the cottager's enemy! + +See, too, how he is beautifying that church, restoring it, making it light +and pleasant to those who resort to it; see how he causes sweeter music +and singing, and puts new life into the service. This a lesson learnt from +the City of the Seven Hills--this is the mark of the Beast. But the +ultimate aim may be traced to the same base motive--the preservation of +that enormous property. + +Another party is for pure secularism. This is not so numerously +represented, but has increased of recent years. From political motives +both of these silently oppose him. Nor are the poor and ignorant alone +among the ranks of his foes. There are some tenant-farmers among them, but +their attitude is not so coarsely antagonistic. They take no action +against, but they do not assist, him. So that, although, as he goes about +the parish, he is not greeted with hisses, the clergyman is full well +aware that his activity is a thorn in the side of many. They once +reproached him with a too prolonged reverie in the seclusion of the +parsonage; now they would gladly thrust him back again. + +It may be urged, too, that all his efforts have not produced much visible +effect. The pews are no more crowded than formerly; in some cases the +absence of visible effect is said to be extremely disheartening. But the +fact is that it is yet early to expect much; neither must it be expected +in that direction. It is almost the first principle of science that +reaction is equal to action; it may be safely assumed, then, that after +awhile these labours will bear fruit. The tone of the rising generation +must perforce be softened and modified by them. + +There exists at the present day a class that is morally apathetic. In +every village, in every hamlet, every detached group of cottages, there +are numbers of labouring men who are simply indifferent to church and to +chapel alike. They neither deny nor affirm the primary truths taught in +all places of worship; they are simply indifferent. Sunday comes and sees +them lounging about the cottage door. They do not drink to excess, they +are not more given to swearing than others, they are equally honest, and +are not of ill-repute. But the moral sense seems extinct--the very idea of +anything beyond gross earthly advantages never occurs to them. The days go +past, the wages are paid, the food is eaten, and there is all. + +Looking at it from the purely philosophic point of view there is something +sad in this dull apathy. The most pronounced materialist has a faith in +some form of beauty--matter itself is capable of ideal shapes in his +conception. These people know no ideal. It seems impossible to reach them, +because there is no chord that will respond to the most skilful touch. +This class is very numerous now--a disheartening fact. Yet perhaps the +activity and energy of the clergyman may be ultimately destined to find +its reaction, to produce its effect among these very people. They may +slowly learn to appreciate tangible, practical work, though utterly +insensible to direct moral teaching and the finest eloquence of the +pulpit. Finding by degrees that he is really endeavouring to improve their +material existence, they may in time awake to a sense of something higher. + +What is wanted is a perception of the truth that progress and civilisation +ought not to end with mere material--mechanical--comfort or wealth. A +cottager ought to learn that when the highest wages of the best paid +artisan are readied it is _not_ the greatest privilege of the man to throw +mutton chops to dogs and make piles of empty champagne bottles. It might +almost be said that one cause of the former extravagance and the recent +distress and turbulence of the working classes is the absence of an ideal +from their minds. + +Besides this moral apathy, the cottager too often assumes an attitude +distinctly antagonistic to every species of authority, and particularly to +that _prestige_ hitherto attached to property. Each man is a law to +himself, and does that which seems good in his own eyes. He does not pause +to ask himself, What will my neighbour think of this? He simply thinks of +no one but himself, takes counsel of no one, and cares not what the result +may be. It is the same in little things as great. Respect for authority is +extinct. The modern progressive cottager is perfectly certain that he +knows as much as his immediate employer, the squire, and the parson put +together with the experience of the world at their back. He is now the +judge--the infallible authority himself. He is wiser far than all the +learned and the thoughtful, wiser than the prophets themselves. Priest, +politician, and philosopher must bow their heads and listen to the dictum +of the ploughman. + +This feeling shows itself most strikingly in the disregard of property. +There used to be a certain tacit agreement among all men that those who +possessed capital, rank, or reputation should be treated with courtesy. +That courtesy did not imply that the landowner, the capitalist, or the +minister of religion, was necessarily in himself superior. But it did +imply that those who administered property really represented the general +order in which all were interested. So in a court of justice, all who +enter remove their hats, not out of servile adulation of the person in +authority, but from respect for the majesty of the law, which it is every +individual's interest to uphold. But now, metaphorically speaking, the +labourer removes his hat for no man. Whether in the case of a manufacturer +or of a tenant of a thousand-acre farm the thing is the same. The cottager +can scarcely nod his employer a common greeting in the morning. Courtesy +is no longer practised. The idea in the man's mind appears to be to +express contempt for big employer's property. It is an unpleasant symptom. + +At present it is not, however, an active, but a passive force; a moral +_vis inertiae_. Here again the clergyman meets with a cold rebuff. No +eloquence, persuasion, personal influence even, can produce more than a +passing impression. But here again, perhaps, his practical activity may +bring about its reaction. In time the cottager will be compelled to admit +that, at least, coal club, benefit society, cricket, allotment, &c., have +done him no harm. In time he may even see that property and authority are +not always entirely selfish--that they may do good, and be worthy, at all +events, of courteous acknowledgment. + +These two characteristics, moral apathy and contempt of property--i.e., of +social order--are probably exercising considerable influence in shaping +the labourer's future. Free of mental restraint, his own will must work +its way for good or evil. It is true that the rise or fall of wages may +check or hasten the development of that future. In either case it is not, +however, probable that he will return to the old grooves; indeed, the +grooves themselves are gone, and the logic of events must force him to +move onwards. That motion, in its turn, must affect the rest of the +community. Let the mind's eye glance for a moment over the country at +large. The villages among the hills, the villages on the plains, in the +valleys, and beside the streams represent in the aggregate an enormous +power. Separately such hamlets seem small and feeble--unable to impress +their will upon the world. But together they contain a vast crowd, which, +united, may shoulder itself an irresistible course, pushing aside all +obstacles by mere physical weight. + +The effect of education has been, and seems likely to be, to supply a +certain unity of thought, if not of action, among these people. The solid +common sense--the law-abiding character of the majority--is sufficient +security against any violent movement. But how important it becomes that +that common sense should be strengthened against the assaults of an +insidious Socialism! A man's education does not come to an end when he +leaves school. He then just begins to form his opinions, and in nine cases +out of ten thinks what he hears and what he reads. Here, in the +agricultural labourer class, are many hundred thousand young men exactly +in this stage, educating themselves in moral, social, and political +opinion. + +In short, the future literature of the labourer becomes a serious +question. He will think what he reads; and what he reads at the present +moment is of anything but an elevating character. He will think, too, what +he hears; and he hears much of an enticing but subversive political creed, +and little of any other. There are busy tongues earnestly teaching him to +despise property and social order, to suggest the overthrow of existing +institutions; there is scarcely any one to instruct him in the true lesson +of history. Who calls together an audience of agricultural labourers to +explain to and interest them in the story of their own country? There are +many who are only too anxious to use the agricultural labourer as the +means to effect ends which he scarcely understands. But there are few, +indeed, who are anxious to instruct him in science or literature for his +own sake. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + + +A WHEAT COUNTRY + + +The aspect of a corn-growing district in the colder months is perhaps more +dreary than that of any other country scene. It is winter made visible. +The very houses at the edge of the village stand out harsh and angular, +especially if modern and slated, for the old thatched cottages are not +without a curve in the line of the eaves. No trees or bushes shelter them +from the bitter wind that rushes across the plain, and, because of the +absence of trees round the outskirts, the village may be seen from a great +distance. + +The wayfarer, as he approaches along the interminable road, that now rises +over a hill and now descends into a valley, observes it from afar, his +view uninterrupted by wood, but the vastness of the plain seems to shorten +his step, so that he barely gains on the receding roofs. The hedges by the +road are cropped--cut down mercilessly--and do not afford the slightest +protection against wind, or rain, or sleet. If he would pause awhile to +rest his weary limbs no friendly bush keeps off the chilling blast. +Yonder, half a mile in front, a waggon creeps up the hill, always just so +much ahead, never overtaken, or seeming to alter its position, whether he +walks slow or fast. The only apparent inhabitants of the solitude are the +larks that every now and then cross the road in small flocks. Above, the +sky is dull and gloomy; beneath, the earth, except, where some snow +lingers, is of a still darker tint. On the northern side the low mounds +are white with snow here and there. Mile after mile the open level fields +extend on either hand; now brown from the late passage of the plough, now +a pale yellow where the short stubble yet remains, divided by black lines; +the low-cropped hedges bare of leaves. A few small fir copses are +scattered about, the only relief to the eye; all else is level, dull, +monotonous. + +When the village is reached at last, it is found to be of considerable +size. The population is much greater than might have been anticipated from +the desert-like solitude surrounding the place. In actual numbers, of +course, it will not bear comparison with manufacturing districts, but for +its situation, it is quite a little town. Compared with the villages +situate in the midst of great pastures--where grass is the all-important +crop--it is really populous. Almost all the inhabitants find employment in +the fields around, helping to produce wheat and barley, oats and roots. It +is a little city of the staff of life--a metropolis of the plough. + +Every single house, from that of the landowner, through the rent; that of +the clergyman, through the tithe--down to the humblest cottage, is +directly interested in the crop of corn. The very children playing about +the gaps in the hedges are interested in it, for can they not go gleaning? +If the heralds had given the place a coat of arms it should bear a sheaf +of wheat. And the reason of its comparative populousness is to be found in +the wheat also. For the stubborn earth will not yield its riches without +severe and sustained labour. Instead of tickling it with a hoe, and +watching the golden harvest leap forth, scarifier and plough, harrow and +drill in almost ceaseless succession, compel the clods by sheer force of +iron to deliver up their treasure. In another form it is almost like the +quartz-crushing at the gold mines--the ore ground out from the solid rock. +And here, in addition, the ore has to be put into the rock first in the +shape of manure. + +All this labour requires hands to do it, and so--the supply for some time, +at all events, answering the demand--the village teemed with men. In the +autumn comes the ploughing, the couch-picking and burning, often second +ploughing, the sowing by drill or hand, the threshing, &c. In the spring +will come more ploughing, sowing, harrowing, hoeing. Modern agriculture +has increased the labour done in the fields. Crops are arranged to succeed +crops, and each of these necessitates labour, and labour a second and a +third time. The work on arable land is never finished. A slackness there +is in the dead of winter; but even then there is still something +doing--some draining, some trimming of hedges, carting manure for open +field work. But beyond this there are the sheep in the pens to be attended +to as the important time of lambing approaches, and there are the horned +cattle in the stalls still fattening, and leaving, as they reach maturity, +for the butcher. + +The arable agriculturist, indeed, has a double weight upon his mind. He +has money invested in the soil itself, seed lying awaiting the genial warm +rain that shall cause it to germinate, capital in every furrow traced by +the plough. He has money, on the other hand, in his stock, sheep, and +cattle. A double anxiety is his; first that his crops may prosper, next +that his stock may flourish. He requires men to labour in the field, men +to attend to the sheep, men to feed the bullocks; a crowd of labourers are +supported by him, with their wives and families. In addition to these he +needs other labour--the inanimate assistance of the steam-engine, and the +semi-intelligent co-operation of the horse. These, again, must be directed +by men. Thus it is that the corn village has become populous. + +The original idea was that the introduction of machinery would reduce all +this labour. In point of fact, it has, if anything, increased it. The +steam-plough will not work itself; each of the two engines requires two +men to attend to it; one, and often two, ride on the plough itself; +another goes with the water-cart to feed the boiler: others with the +waggon for coal. The drill must have men--and experienced men--with it, +besides horses to draw it, and these again want men The threshing-machine +employs quite a little troop to feed it; and, turning to the stock in the +stalls, roots will not pulp or slice themselves, nor will water pump +itself up into the troughs, nor chaff cut itself. The chaff-cutter and +pump, and so on, all depend on human hands to keep them going. Such is but +a very brief outline of the innumerable ways in which arable agriculture +gives employment. So the labourer and the labourer's family flourish +exceedingly in the corn tillage. Wages rise; he waxes fat and strong and +masterful, thinking that he holds the farmer and the golden grain in the +hollow of his hand. + +But now a cloud arises and casts its shadow over the cottage. If the +farmer depends upon his men, so do the men in equal degree depend upon the +farmer. This they overlooked, but are now learning again. The farmer, too, +is not independent and self-sustained, but is at the mercy of many +masters. The weather and the seasons are one master; the foreign producer +is another; the markets, which are further influenced by the condition of +trade at large, form a third master. He is, indeed, very much more in the +position of a servant than his labourer. Of late almost all these masters +have combined against the corn-growing farmer. Wheat is not only low but +seems likely to remain so. Foreign meat also competes with the dearly-made +meat of the stalls. The markets are dull and trade depressed everywhere. +Finally a fresh master starts up in the shape of the labourer himself, and +demands higher wages. + +For some length of time the corn-grower puts a courageous face on the +difficulties which beset him, and struggles on, hoping for better days. +After awhile, however, seeing that his capital is diminishing, because he +has been, as it were, eating it, seeing that there is no prospect of +immediate relief, whatever may happen in the future, he is driven to one +of two courses. He must quit the occupation or he must reduce his +expenditure. He must not only ask the labourer to accept a reduction, but +he must, wherever practicable, avoid employing labour at all. + +Now comes the pressure on the corn village. Much but not all of that +pressure the inhabitants have brought upon themselves through endeavouring +to squeeze the farmer too closely. If there had been no labour +organisation whatever when the arable agriculturist began to suffer, as he +undoubtedly has been suffering, the labourer must have felt it in his +turn. He has himself to blame if he has made the pain more acute. He finds +it in this way. Throughout the corn-producing district there has been +proceeding a gradual shrinkage, as it were, of speculative investment. +Where an agriculturist would have ploughed deeper, and placed extra +quantities of manure in the soil, with a view to an extra crop, he has, +instead, only just ploughed and cleaned and manured enough to keep things +going. Where he would have enlarged his flock of sheep, or added to the +cattle in the stalls, and carried as much stock as he possibly could, he +has barely filled the stalls, and bought but just enough cake and foods. +Just enough, indeed, of late has been his watchword all through--just +enough labour and no more. + +This cutting down, stinting, and economy everywhere has told upon the +population of the village. The difference in the expenditure upon a +solitary farm may be but a trifle--a few pounds; but when some score or +more farms are taken, in the aggregate the decrease in the cash +transferred from the pocket of the agriculturist to that of the labourer +becomes something considerable. The same percentage on a hundred farms +would amount to a large sum. In this manner the fact of the corn-producing +farmer being out of spirits with his profession reacts upon the corn +village. There is no positive distress, but there is just a sense that +there are more hands about than necessary. Yet at the same moment there +are not hands enough; a paradox which may be explained in a measure by the +introduction of machinery. + +As already stated, machinery in the field does not reduce the number of +men employed. But they are employed in a different way. The work all comes +now in rushes. By the aid of the reaping machine acres are levelled in a +day, and the cut corn demands the services of a crowd of men and women all +at once, to tie it up in sheaves. Should the self-binders come into +general use, and tie the wheat with wire or string at the moment of +cutting it, the matter of labour will be left much in the same stage. A +crowd of workpeople will be required all at once to pick up the sheaves, +or to cart them to the rick; and the difference will lie in this, that +while now the crowd are employed, say twelve hours, then they will be +employed only nine. Just the same number--perhaps more--but for less time. +Under the old system, a dozen men worked all the winter through, hammering +away with their flails in the barns. Now the threshing-machine arrives, +and the ricks are threshed in a few days. As many men are wanted (and at +double the wages) to feed the machine, to tend the 'elevator' carrying up +the straw to make the straw rick, to fetch water and coal for the engine, +to drive it, &c. But instead of working for so many months, this rush +lasts as many days. + +Much the same thing happens all throughout arable agriculture--from the +hoeing to the threshing--a troop are wanted one day, scarcely anybody the +next. There is, of course, a steady undercurrent of continuous work for a +certain fixed number of hands; but over and above this are the periodical +calls for extra labour, which of recent years, from the high wages paid, +have been so profitable to the labourers. But when the agriculturist draws +in his investments, when he retrenches his expenditure, and endeavours, as +far as practicable, to confine it to his regular men, then the +intermittent character of the extra work puts a strain upon the rest. They +do not find so much to do, the pay is insensibly decreasing, and they +obtain, less casual employment meantime. + +In the olden times a succession of bad harvests caused sufferings +throughout the whole of England. Somewhat in like manner, though in a +greatly modified degree, the difficulties of the arable agriculturist at +the present day press upon the corn villages. In a time when the +inhabitants saw the farmers, as they believed, flourishing and even +treading on the heels of the squire, the corn villagers, thinking that the +farmer was absolutely dependent upon them, led the van of the agitation +for high wages. Now, when the force of circumstances has compressed wages +again, they are both to submit. But discovering by slow degrees that no +organisation can compel, or create a demand for labour at any price, there +are now signs on the one hand of acquiescence, and on the other of partial +emigration. + +Thus the comparative density of the population in arable districts is at +once a blessing and a trouble. It is not the 'pranks' of the farmers that +have caused emigration, or threats of it. The farmer is unable to pay high +wages, the men will not accept a moderate reduction, and the idle crowd, +in effect, tread on each other's heels. Pressure of that kind, and to that +extent, is limited to a few localities only. The majority have sufficient +common sense to see their error. But it is in arable districts that +agitation takes its extreme form. The very number of the population gives +any movement a vigour and emphasis that is wanting where there may be as +much discontent but fewer to exhibit it. That populousness has been in the +past of the greatest assistance to the agriculturist, and there is no +reason why it should not be so in the future, for it does not by any means +follow that because agriculture is at present depressed it will always be +so. + +Let the months roll by and then approach the same village along the same +road under the summer sun. The hedges, though low, are green, and bear the +beautiful flowers of the wild convolvulus. Trees that were scarcely +observed before, because bare of leaves, now appear, and crowds of birds, +finches and sparrows, fly up from the corn. The black swifts wheel +overhead, and the white-breasted swallows float in the azure. Over the +broad plain extends a still broader roof of the purest blue--the landscape +is so open that the sky seems as broad again as in the enclosed +countries--wide, limitless, very much as it does at sea. On the rising +ground pause a moment and look round. Wheat and barley and oats stretch +mile after mile on either hand. Here the red wheat tinges the view, there +the whiter barley; but the prevailing hue is a light gold. Yonder green is +the swede, or turnip, or mangold; but frequent as are the fields of roots, +the golden tint overpowers the green. A golden sun looks down upon the +golden wheat--the winds are still and the heat broods over the corn. It is +pleasant to get under the scanty shadow of the stunted ash. Think what +wealth all that glorious beauty represents. Wealth to the rich man, wealth +to the poor. + +Come again in a few weeks' time and look down upon it. The swarthy reapers +are at work. They bend to their labour till the tall corn overtops their +heads. Every now and then they rise up, and stand breast high among the +wheat. Every field is full of them, men and women, young lads and girls, +busy as they may be. Yonder the reaping-machine, with its strange-looking +arms revolving like the vast claws of an unearthly monster beating down +the grain, goes rapidly round and round in an ever-narrowing circle till +the last ears fall. A crowd has pounced upon the cut corn. Behind +them--behind the reapers--everywhere abroad on the great plain rises an +army, regiment behind regiment, the sheaves stacked in regular ranks down +the fields. Yet a little while, and over that immense expanse not one +single, solitary straw will be left standing. Then the green roots show +more strongly, and tint the landscape. Next come the waggons, and after +that the children searching for stray ears of wheat, for not one must be +left behind. After that, in the ploughing time, while yet the sun shines +warm, it is a sight to watch the teams from under the same ash tree, +returning from their labour in the afternoon. Six horses here, eight +horses there, twelve yonder, four far away; all in single file, slowly +walking home, and needing no order or touch of whip to direct their steps +to the well-known stables. + +If any wish to see the work of farming in its full flush and vigour, let +them visit a corn district at the harvest time. Down in the village there +scarcely any one is left at home; every man, woman, and child is out in +the field. It is the day of prosperity, of continuous work for all, of +high wages. It is, then, easy to understand why corn villages are +populous. One cannot but feel the strongest sympathy with these men. The +scene altogether seems so thoroughly, so intensely English. The spirit of +it enters into the spectator, and he feels that he, too, must try his hand +at the reaping, and then slake his thirst from the same cup with these +bronzed sons of toil. + +Yet what a difficult problem lies underneath all this! While the reaper +yonder slashes at the straw, huge ships are on the ocean rushing through +the foam to bring grain to the great cities to whom--and to all--cheap +bread is so inestimable a blessing. Very likely, when he pauses in his +work, and takes his luncheon, the crust he eats is made of flour ground +out of grain that grew in far distant Minnesota, or some vast Western +State. Perhaps at the same moment the farmer himself sits at his desk and +adds up figure after figure, calculating the cost of production, the +expenditure on labour, the price of manure put into the soil, the capital +invested in the steam-plough, and the cost of feeding the bullocks that +are already intended for the next Christmas. Against these he places the +market price of that wheat he can see being reaped from his window, and +the price he receives for his fattened bullock. Then a vision rises before +him of green meads and broad pastures slowly supplanting the corn; the +plough put away, and the scythe brought out and sharpened. If so, where +then will be the crowd of men and women yonder working in the wheat? Is +not this a great problem, one to be pondered over and not hastily +dismissed? + +Logical conclusions do not always come to pass in practice; even yet there +is plenty of time for a change which shall retain these stalwart reapers +amongst us, the strength and pride of the land. But if so, it is certain +that it must be preceded by some earnest on their part of a desire to +remove that last straw from the farmer's back--the last straw of +extravagant labour demands--which have slowly been dragging him down. They +have been doing their very best to bring about the substitution of grass +for corn. And the farmer, too, perhaps, must look at home, and be content +to live in simpler fashion. To do so will certainly require no little +moral courage, for a prevalent social custom, like that of living fully up +to the income (not solely characteristic of farmers), is with difficulty +faced and overcome. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + + +GRASS COUNTRIES + + +On the ground beside the bramble bushes that project into the field the +grass is white with hoar frost at noon-day, when the rest of the meadow +has resumed its dull green winter tint. Behind the copse, too, there is a +broad belt of white--every place, indeed, that would be in the shadow were +the sun to shine forth is of that colour. + +The eager hunter frowns with impatience, knowing that though the eaves of +the house may drip in the middle of the day, yet, while those white +patches show in the shelter of the bramble bushes the earth will be hard +and unyielding. His horse may clear the hedge, but how about the landing +on that iron-like surface? Every old hoof-mark in the sward, cut out sharp +and clear as if with a steel die, is so firm that the heaviest roller +would not produce the smallest effect upon it. At the gateways where the +passage of cattle has trodden away the turf, the mud, once almost +impassable, is now hardened, and every cloven hoof that pressed it has +left its mark as if cast in metal. Along the furrows the ice has fallen +in, and lies on the slope white and broken, the shallow water having dried +away beneath it. Dark hedges, dark trees--in the distance they look almost +black--nearer at hand the smallest branches devoid of leaves are clearly +defined against the sky. + +As the northerly wind drifts the clouds before it the sun shines down, and +the dead, dry grass and the innumerable tufts of the 'leaze' which the +cattle have not eaten, take a dull grey hue. Sheltered from the blast +behind the thick, high hawthorn hedge and double mound, which is like a +rampart reared against Boreas, it is pleasant even now to stroll to and +fro in the sunshine. The longtailed titmice come along in parties of six +or eight, calling to each other as in turn they visit every tree. Turning +from watching these--see, a redbreast has perched on a branch barely two +yards distant, for, wherever you may be, there the robin comes and watches +you. Whether looking in summer at the roses in the garden, or waiting in +winter for the pheasant to break cover or the fox to steal forth, go where +you will, in a minute or two, a redbreast appears intent on your +proceedings. + +Now comes a discordant squeaking of iron axles that have not been greased, +and the jolting sound of wheels passing over ruts whose edges are hard and +frost-bound. From the lane two manure carts enter the meadow in slow +procession, and, stopping at regular intervals, the men in charge take +long poles with hooks at the end and drag down a certain quantity of the +fertilising material. The sharp frost is so far an advantage to the tenant +of meadow land that he can cart manure without cutting and poaching the +turf, and even without changing the ordinary for the extra set of +broad-wheels on the cart. In the next meadow the hedge-cutters are busy, +their hands fenced with thick gloves to turn aside the thorns. + +Near by are the hay-ricks and cow-pen where a metallic rattling sound +rises every now and then--the bull in the shed moving his neck and +dragging his chain through the ring. More than one of the hay-ricks have +been already half cut away, for the severe winter makes the cows hungry, +and if their yield of milk is to be kept up they must be well fed, so that +the foggers have plenty to do. If the dairy, as is most probably the case, +sends the milk to London, they have still more, because then a regular +supply has to be maintained, and for that a certain proportion of other +food has to be prepared in addition to the old-fashioned hay. The new +system, indeed, has led to the employment of more labour out-of-doors, if +less within. An extra fogger has to be put on, not only because of the +food, but because the milking has to be done in less time--with a +despatch, indeed, that would have seemed unnatural to the old folk. +Besides which the milk carts to and fro the railway station require +drivers, whose time--as they have to go some miles twice a day--is pretty +nearly occupied with their horses and milk tins. So much is this the case +that even in summer they can scarcely be spared to do a few hours +haymaking. + +The new system, therefore, of selling the milk instead of making butter +and cheese is advantageous to the labourer by affording more employment in +grass districts. It is steady work, too, lasting the entire year round, +and well paid. The stock of cows in such cases is kept up to the very +highest that the land will carry, which, again, gives more work. Although +the closing of the cheese lofts and the superannuation of the churn has +reduced the number of female servants in the house, yet that is more than +balanced by the extra work without. The cottage families, it is true, lose +the buttermilk which some farmers used to allow them; but wages are +certainly better. + +There has been, in fact, a general stir and movement in dairy districts +since the milk selling commenced, which has been favourable to labour. A +renewed life and energy has been visible on farms where for generations +things had gone on in the same sleepy manner. Efforts have been made to +extend the area available for feeding by grubbing hedges and cultivating +pieces of ground hitherto given over to thistles, rushes, and rough +grasses. Drains have been put in so that the stagnant water in the soil +might not cause the growth of those grasses which cattle will not touch. +Fresh seed has been sown, and 'rattles' and similar plants destructive to +the hay crop have been carefully eradicated. New gales, new carts, and +traps, all exhibit the same movement. + +The cowyards in many districts were formerly in a very dilapidated +condition. The thatch of the sheds was all worn away, mossgrown, and bored +by the sparrows. Those in which the cows were placed at calving time were +mere dark holes. The floor of the yard was often soft, so that the hoofs +of the cattle trod deep into it--a perfect slough in wet weather. The cows +themselves were of a poor character, and in truth as poorly treated, for +the hay was made badly--carelessly harvested, and the grass itself not of +good quality--nor were the men always very humane, thinking little of +knocking the animals about. + +Quite a change has come over all this. The cows now kept are much too +valuable to be treated roughly, being selected from shorthorn strains that +yield large quantities of milk. No farmer now would allow any such +knocking about. The hay itself is better, because the grass has been +improved, and it is also harvested carefully. Rickcloths prevent rain from +spoiling the rising rick, mowing machines, haymaking machines, and horse +rakes enable a spell of good weather to be taken advantage of, and the hay +got in quickly, instead of lying about till the rain returns. As for the +manure, it is recognised to be gold in another shape, and instead of being +trodden under foot by the cattle and washed away by the rain, it is +utilised. The yard is drained and stoned so as to be dry--a change that +effects a saving in litter, the value of which has greatly risen. Sheds +have been new thatched, and generally renovated, and even new roads laid +down across the farms, and properly macadamised, in order that the milk +carts might reach the highway without the straining and difficulty +consequent upon wheels sinking half up to the axles in winter. + +In short, dairy farms have been swept and garnished, and even something +like science introduced upon them. The thermometer in summer is in +constant use to determine if the milk is sufficiently cooled to proceed +upon its journey. That cooling of the milk alone is a process that +requires more labour to carry it out. Artificial manures are spread abroad +on the pastures. The dairy farmer has to a considerable extent awakened to +the times, and, like the arable agriculturist, is endeavouring to bring +modern appliances to bear upon his business. To those who recollect the +old style of dairy farmer the change seems marvellous indeed. Nowhere was +the farmer more backward, more rude and primitive, than on the small dairy +farms. He was barely to be distinguished from the labourers, amongst whom +he worked shoulder to shoulder; he spoke with their broad accent, and his +ideas and theirs were nearly identical. + +In ten years' time--just a short ten years only--what an alteration has +taken place! It is needless to say that this could not go on without the +spending of money, and the spending of money means the benefit of the +labouring class. New cottages have been erected, of course on modern +plans, so that many of the men are much better lodged than they were, and +live nearer to their work--a great consideration where cows are the main +object of attention. The men have to be on the farm very early in the +morning, and if they have a long walk it is a heavy drag upon them. +Perhaps the constant intercourse with the towns and stations resulting +from the double daily visit of the milk carts has quickened the minds of +the labourers thus employed. Whatever may be the cause, it is certain that +they do exhibit an improvement, and are much 'smarter' than they used to +be. It would be untrue to say that no troubles with the labourers have +arisen in meadow districts. There has been some friction about wages, but +not nearly approaching the agitation elsewhere. And when a recent +reduction of wages commenced, many of the men themselves admitted that it +was inevitable. But the average earnings throughout the year still +continue, and are likely to continue far above the old rate of payment. +Where special kinds of cheese are made the position of the labourer has +also improved. + +Coming to the same district in summer time, the meadows have a beauty all +their own. The hedges are populous with birds, the trees lovely, the brook +green with flags, the luxuriantly-growing grass decked with flowers. Nor +has haymaking lost all its ancient charm. Though the old-fashioned sound +of the mower sharpening his scythe is less often heard, being superseded +by the continuous rattle of the mowing machine, yet the hay smells as +sweetly as ever. While the mowing machine, the haymaking machine, and +horse rake give the farmer the power of using the sunshine, when it comes, +to the best purpose, they are not without an effect upon the labouring +population. + +Just as in corn districts, machinery has not reduced the actual number of +hands employed, but has made the work come in spells or rushes; so in the +meadows the haymaking is shortened. The farmer waits till good weather is +assured for a few days. Then on goes his mowing machine and levels the +crop of an entire field in no time. Immediately a whole crowd of labourers +are required for making the hay and getting it when ready on the waggons. +Under the old system the mowers usually got drunk about the third day of +sunshine, and the work came to a standstill. When it began to rain they +recovered themselves, and slashed away vigorously--when it was not wanted. +The effect of machinery has been much the same as on corn lands, with the +addition that fewer women are now employed in haymaking. Those that are +employed are much better paid. + +The hamlets of grass districts are not, as a rule, at all populous. There +really are fewer people, and at the same time the impression is increased +by the scattered position of the dwellings. Instead of a great central +village there are three or four small hamlets a mile or two apart, and +solitary groups of cottages near farmhouses. One result of this is, that +allotment gardens are not so common, for the sufficient reason that, if a +field were set apart for the purpose, the tenants of the plots would have +to walk so far to the place that it would scarcely pay them. Gardens are +consequently attached to most cottages, and answer the same purpose; some +have small orchards as well. + +The cottagers have also more firewood than is the case in some arable +districts on account of the immense quantity of wood annually cut in +copses and double-mound hedges. The rougher part becomes the labourers' +perquisite, and they can also purchase wood at a nominal rate from their +employers. This more than compensates for the absence of gleaning. In +addition, quantities of wood are collected from hedges and ditches and +under the trees--dead boughs that have fallen or been broken off by a +gale. + +The aspect of a grazing district presents a general resemblance to that of +a dairy one, with the difference that in the grazing everything seems on a +larger scale. Instead of small meadows shut in with hedges and trees, the +grazing farms often comprise fields of immense extent; sometimes a single +pasture is as large as a small dairy farm. The herds of cattle are also +more numerous; of course they are of a different class, but, in mere +numbers, a grazier often has three times as many bullocks as a dairy +farmer has cows. The mounds are quite as thickly timbered as in dairy +districts, but as they are much farther apart, the landscape appears more +open. + +To a spectator looking down upon mile after mile of such pasture land in +summer from an elevation it resembles a park of illimitable extent. Great +fields after great fields roll away to the horizon--groups of trees and +small copses dot the slopes--roan and black cattle stand in the sheltering +shadows. A dreamy haze hangs over the distant woods--all is large, open, +noble. It suggests a life of freedom--the gun and the saddle--and, indeed, +it is here that hunting is enjoyed in its full perfection. The labourer +falls almost out of sight in these vast pastures. The population is sparse +and scattered, the hamlets are few and far apart; even many of the +farmhouses being only occupied by bailiffs. In comparison with a dairy +farm there is little work to do. Cows have to be milked as well as +foddered, and the milk when obtained gives employment to many hands in the +various processes it goes through. Here the bullocks have simply to be fed +and watched, the sheep in like manner have to be tended. Except in the +haymaking season, therefore, there is scarcely ever a press for labour. +Those who are employed have steady, continuous work the year through, and +are for the most part men of experience in attending upon cattle, as +indeed they need be, seeing the value of the herds under their charge. + +Although little direct agitation has taken place in pasture countries, yet +wages have equally risen. Pasture districts almost drop out of the labour +dispute. On the one hand the men are few, on the other the rise of a +shilling or so scarcely affects the farmer (so far as his grass land is +concerned, if he has much corn as well it is different), because of the +small number of labourers he wants. + +The great utility of pasture is, of course, the comparatively cheap +production of meat, which goes to feed the population in cities. Numbers +of bullocks are fattened on corn land in stalls, but of late it has been +stated that the cost of feeding under such conditions is so high that +scarcely any profit can be obtained. The pasture farmer has by no means +escaped without encountering difficulties; but still, with tolerably +favourable seasons, he can produce meat much more cheaply than the arable +agriculturist. Yet it is one of the avowed objects of the labour +organisation to prevent the increase of pasture land, to stop the laying +down of grass, and even to plough up some of the old pastures. The reason +given is that corn land supports so many more agricultural labourers, +which is so far true; but if corn farming cannot be carried on profitably +without great reduction of the labour expenses the argument is not worth +much, while the narrowness of the view is at once evident. The proportion +of pasture to arable land must settle itself, and be governed entirely by +the same conditions that affect other trades--i.e.. profit and loss. + +It has already been pointed out that the labourer finds it possible to +support the Union with small payments, and also to subscribe to +benefit-clubs. The fact suggests the idea that, if facilities were +afforded, the labourer would become a considerable depositor of pennies. +The Post-office Savings Banks have done much good, the drawback is that +the offices are often too distant from the labourer. There is an office in +the village, but not half the population live in the village. There are +far-away hamlets and things, besides lonely groups of three or four +farmhouses, to which a collective name can hardly be given, but which +employ a number of men. A rural parish is 'all abroad'--the people are +scattered. To go into the Post-office in the village may involve a walk of +several miles, and it is closed, too, on Saturday night when the men are +flush of money. + +The great difficulty with penny banks on the other hand is the +receiver--who is to be responsible for the money? The clergyman would be +only too glad, but many will have nothing to do with anything under his +influence simply because he is the clergyman. The estrangement that has +been promoted between the labourer and the tenant farmer effectually shuts +the latter out. The landlord's agent cannot reside in fifty places at +once. The sums are too small to pay for a bank agent to reside in the +village and go round. There remain the men themselves; and why should not +they be trusted with the money? Men of their own class collect the Union +subscriptions, and faithfully pay them in. + +Take the case of a little hamlet two, three, perhaps more miles from a +Post-office Savings Bank, where some thirty labourers work on the farms. +Why should not these thirty elect one of their own number to receive their +savings over Saturday--to be paid in by him at the Post-office? There are +men among them who might be safely trusted with ten times the money, and +if the Post-office cannot be opened on Saturday evenings for him to +deposit it, it is quite certain that his employer would permit of his +absence, on one day, sufficiently long to go to the office and back. If +the men wish to be absolutely independent in the matter, all they have to +do is to work an extra hour for their agent's employer, and so compensate +for his temporary absence. If the men had it in their own hands like this +they would enter into it with far greater interest, and it would take root +among them. All that is required is the consent of the Post-office to +receive moneys so deposited, and some one to broach the idea to the men in +the various localities. The great recommendation of the Post-office is +that the labouring classes everywhere have come to feel implicit faith in +the safety of deposits made in it. They have a confidence in it that can +never be attained by a private enterprise, however benevolent, and it +should therefore be utilised to the utmost. + +To gentlemen accustomed to receive a regular income, a small lump sum like +ten or twenty pounds appears a totally inadequate provision against old +age. They institute elaborate calculations by professed accountants, to +discover whether by any mode of investment a small subscription +proportionate to the labourer's wages can be made to provide him with an +annuity. The result is scarcely satisfactory. But, in fact, though an +annuity would be, of course, preferable, even so small a sum as ten or +twenty pounds is of the very highest value to an aged agricultural +labourer, especially when he has a cottage, if not his own property, yet +in which he has a right to reside. The neighbouring farmers, who have +known him from their own boyhood, are always ready to give him light jobs +whenever practicable. So that in tolerable weather he still earns +something. His own children do a little for him. In the dead of the winter +come a few weeks when he can do nothing, and feels the lack of small +comforts. It is just then that a couple of sovereigns out of a hoard of +twenty pounds will tide him over the interval. + +It is difficult to convey an idea of the value of these two extra +sovereigns to a man of such frugal habits and in that position. None but +those who have mixed with the agricultural poor can understand it. Now the +wages that will hardly, by the most careful management, allow of the +gradual purchase of an annuity, will readily permit such savings as these. +It is simply a question of the money-box. When the child's money-box is at +hand the penny is dropped in, and the amount accumulates; if there is no +box handy it is spent in sweets. The same holds true of young and old +alike. If, then, the annuity cannot be arranged, let the money-box, at all +events, be brought nearer. And the money-box in which the poor man all +over the country has the most faith is the Post-office. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + + +HODGE'S LAST MASTERS. CONCLUSION + + +After all the ploughing and the sowing, the hoeing and the harvest, comes +the miserable end. Strong as the labourer may be, thick-set and capable of +immense endurance; by slow degrees that strength must wear away. The limbs +totter, the back is bowed, the dimmed sight can no longer guide the plough +in a straight furrow, nor the weak hands wield the reaping-hook, Hodge, +who, Atlas-like, supported upon his shoulders the agricultural world, +comes in his old age under the dominion of his last masters at the +workhouse. There, indeed, he finds almost the whole array of his rulers +assembled. Tenant farmers sit as the guardians of the poor for their +respective parishes; the clergyman and the squire by virtue of their +office as magistrates; and the tradesman as guardian for the market town. +Here are representatives of almost all his masters, and it may seem to him +a little strange that it should require so many to govern such feeble +folk. + +The board-room at the workhouse is a large and apparently comfortable +apartment. The fire is piled with glowing coals, the red light from which +gleams on the polished fender. A vast table occupies the centre, and +around it are arranged seats, for each of the guardians. The chairman is, +perhaps, a clergyman (and magistrate), who for years has maintained +something like peace between discordant elements. For the board-room is +often a battle-field where political or sectarian animosities exhibit +themselves in a rugged way. The clergyman, by force of character, has at +all events succeeded in moderating the personal asperity of the contending +parties. Many of the stout, elderly farmers who sit round the table have +been elected year after year, no one disputing with them that tedious and +thankless office. The clerk, always a solicitor, is also present, and his +opinion is continually required. Knotty points of law are for ever arising +over what seems so simple a matter as the grant of a dole of bread. + +The business, indeed, of relieving the agricultural poor is no light +one--a dozen or fifteen gentlemen often sit here the whole day. The +routine of examining the relieving officers' books and receiving their +reports takes up at least two hours. Agricultural unions often include a +wide space of country, and getting from one village to another consumes as +much time as would be needed for the actual relief of a much denser +population. As a consequence, more relieving officers are employed than +would seem at first glance necessary. Each of these has his records to +present, and his accounts to be practically audited, a process naturally +interspersed with inquiries respecting cottagers known to the guardians +present. + +Personal applications for out-door relief are then heard. A group of +intending applicants has been waiting in the porch for admission for some +time. Women come for their daughters; daughters for their mothers; some +want assistance during an approaching confinement, others ask for a small +loan, to be repaid by instalments, with which to tide over their +difficulties. One cottage woman is occasionally deputed by several of her +neighbours as their representative. The labourer or his wife stands before +the Board and makes a statement, supplemented by explanation from the +relieving officer of the district. Another hour thus passes. Incidentally +there arise cases of 'settlement' in distant parishes, when persons have +become chargeable whose place of residence was recently, perhaps, half +across the country. They have no parochial rights here and must be +returned thither, after due inquiries made by the clerk and the exchange +of considerable correspondence. + +The master of the workhouse is now called in and delivers his weekly +report of the conduct of the inmates, and any events that have happened. +One inmate, an ancient labourer, died that morning in the infirmary, not +many hours before the meeting of the Board. The announcement is received +with regretful exclamations, and there is a cessation of business for a +few minutes. Some of the old farmers who knew the deceased recount their +connection with him, how he worked for them, and how his family has lived +in the parish as cottagers from time immemorial. A reminiscence of a grim +joke that fell out forty years before, and of which the deceased was the +butt, causes a grave smile, and then to business again. The master +possibly asks permission to punish a refractory inmate; punishment is now +very sparingly given in the house. A good many cases, however, come up +from the Board to the magisterial Bench--charges of tearing up clothing, +fighting, damaging property, or of neglecting to maintain, or to repay +relief advanced on loan. These cases are, of course, conducted by the +clerk. + +There is sometimes a report, to be read by one of the doctors who receive +salaries from the Board and attend to the various districts, and +occasionally some nuisance to be considered and order taken for its +compulsory removal on sanitary grounds. The question of sanitation is +becoming rather a difficult one in agricultural unions. + +After this the various committees of the Board have to give in the result +of their deliberations, and the representative of the ladies' boarding-out +committee presents a record of the work accomplished. These various +committees at times are burdened with the most onerous labours, for upon +them falls the duty of verifying all the petty details of management. +Every pound of soap, or candles, scrubbing-brushes, and similar domestic +items, pass under their inspection, not only the payments for them, but +the actual articles, or samples of them, being examined. Tenders for +grocery, bread, wines and spirits for cases of illness, meat, coals, and +so forth are opened and compared, vouchers, bills, receipts, invoices, and +so forth checked and audited. + +The amount of detail thus attended to is something immense, and the +accuracy required occupies hour after hour. There are whole libraries of +account-books, ledgers, red-bound relief-books, stowed away, pile upon +pile, in the house; archives going back to the opening of the +establishment, and from which any trifling relief given or expenditure +inclined years ago can be extracted. Such another carefully-administered +institution it would be hard to find; nor is any proposed innovation or +change adopted without the fullest discussion--it may be the suggested +erection of additional premises, or the introduction of some fresh feature +of the system, or some novel instructions sent down by the Local +Government Board. + +When such matters or principles are to be discussed there is certain to be +a full gathering of the guardians and a trial of strength between the +parties. Those who habitually neglect to attend, leaving the hard labour +of administration to be borne by their colleagues, now appear in numbers, +and the board-room is crowded, many squires otherwise seldom seen coming +in to give their votes. It is as much as the chairman can do to assuage +the storm and to maintain an approach to personal politeness. Quiet as the +country appears to the casual observer, there are, nevertheless, strong +feelings under the surface, and at such gatherings the long-cherished +animosities burst forth. + +Nothing at all events is done in a corner; everything is openly discussed +and investigated. Every week the visiting committee go round the house, +and enter every ward and store-room. They taste and test the provisions, +and the least shortcoming is certain to be severely brought home to those +who are fulfilling the contracts. They pass through the dormitories, and +see that everything is clean; woe betide those responsible if a spot of +dirt be visible! There is the further check of casual and unexpected +visits from the guardians or magistrates. It is probable that not one +crumb of bread consumed is otherwise than good, and that not one single +crumb is wasted. The waste is in the system--and a gigantic waste it is, +whether inevitable as some contend, or capable of being superseded by a +different plan. + +Of every hundred pounds paid by the ratepayers how much is absorbed in the +maintenance of the institution and its ramifications, and how very little +reaches poor deserving Hodge! The undeserving and mean-spirited, of whom +there are plenty in every village, who endeavour to live upon the parish, +receive relief thrice as long and to thrice the amount as the +hard-working, honest labourer, who keeps out to the very last moment. It +is not the fault of the guardians, but of the rigidity of the law. Surely +a larger amount of discretionary power might be vested in them with +advantage! Some exceptional consideration is the just due of men who have +worked from the morn to the very eve of life. + +The labourer whose decease was reported to the Board upon their assembling +was born some seventy-eight or seventy-nine years ago. The exact date is +uncertain; many of the old men can only fix their age by events that +happened when they were growing from boys into manhood. That it must have +been nearer eighty than seventy years since is known, however, to the +elderly farmers, who recollect him as a man with a family when they were +young. The thatched cottage stood beside the road at one end of a long, +narrow garden, enclosed from the highway by a hedge of elder. At the back +there was a ditch and mound with elm-trees, and green meadows beyond. A +few poles used to lean against the thatch, their tops rising above the +ridge, and close by was a stack of thorn faggots. In the garden three or +four aged and mossgrown apple-trees stood among the little plots of +potatoes, and as many plum-trees in the elder hedge. One tall pear-tree +with scored bark grew near the end of the cottage; it bore a large crop of +pears, which were often admired by the people who came along the road, but +were really hard and woody. As a child he played in the ditch and hedge, +or crept through into the meadow and searched in the spring for violets to +offer to the passers-by; or he swung on the gate in the lane and held it +open for the farmers in their gigs, in hope of a halfpenny. + +As a lad he went forth with his father to work in the fields, and came +home to the cabbage boiled for the evening meal. It was not a very roomy +or commodious home to return to after so many hours in the field, exposed +to rain and wind, to snow, or summer sun. The stones of the floor were +uneven, and did not fit at the edges. There was a beam across the low +ceiling, to avoid which, as he grew older, he had to bow his head when +crossing the apartment. A wooden ladder, or steps, not a staircase proper, +behind the whitewashed partition, led to the bedroom. The steps were +worm-eaten and worn. In the sitting-room the narrow panes of the small +window were so overgrown with woodbine as to admit but little light. But +in summer the door was wide open, and the light and the soft air came in. +The thick walls and thatch kept it warm and cosy in winter, when they +gathered round the fire. Every day in his manhood he went out to the +field; every item, as it were, of life centred in that little cottage. In +time he came to occupy it with his own wife, and his children in their +turn crept through the hedge, or swung upon the gate. They grew up, and +one by one went away, till at last he was left alone. + +He had not taken much conscious note of the changing aspect of the scene +around him. The violets flowered year after year; still he went to plough. +The May bloomed and scented the hedges; still he went to his work. The +green summer foliage became brown and the acorns fell from the oaks; still +he laboured on, and saw the ice and snow, and heard the wind roar in the +old familiar trees without much thought of it. But those old familiar +trees, the particular hedges he had worked among so many years, the very +turf of the meadows over which he had walked so many times, the view down +the road from the garden gate, the distant sign-post and the red-bricked +farmhouse--all these things had become part of his life. There was no hope +nor joy left to him, but he wanted to stay on among them to the end. He +liked to ridge up his little plot of potatoes; he liked to creep up his +ladder and mend the thatch of his cottage; he liked to cut himself a +cabbage, and to gather the one small basketful of apples. There was a kind +of dull pleasure in cropping the elder hedge, and even in collecting the +dead branches scattered under the trees. To be about the hedges, in the +meadows, and along the brooks was necessary to him, and he liked to be at +work. + +Three score and ten did not seem the limit of his working days; he still +could and would hoe--a bowed back is no impediment, but perhaps rather an +advantage, at that occupation. He could use a prong in the haymaking; he +could reap a little, and do good service tying up the cut corn. There were +many little jobs on the farm that required experience, combined with the +plodding patience of age, and these he could do better than a stronger +man. The years went round again, and yet he worked. Indeed, the farther +back a man's birth dates in the beginning of the present century the more +he seems determined to labour. He worked on till every member of his +family had gone, most to their last home, and still went out at times when +the weather was not too severe. He worked on, and pottered round the +garden, and watched the young green plums swelling on his trees, and did a +bit of gleaning, and thought the wheat would weigh bad when it was +threshed out. + +Presently people began to bestir themselves, and to ask whether there was +no one to take care of the old man, who might die from age and none near. +Where were his own friends and relations? One strong son had enlisted and +gone to India, and though his time had expired long ago, nothing had ever +been heard of him. Another son had emigrated to Australia, and once sent +back a present of money, and a message, written for him by a friend, that +he was doing well. But of late, he, too, had dropped out of sight. Of +three daughters who grew up, two were known to be dead, and the third was +believed to be in New Zealand. The old man was quite alone. He had no hope +and no joy, yet he was almost happy in a slow unfeeling way wandering +about the garden and the cottage. But in the winter his half-frozen blood +refused to circulate, his sinews would not move his willing limbs, and he +could not work. + +His case came before the Board of Guardians. Those who knew all about him +wished to give him substantial relief in his own cottage, and to appoint +some aged woman as nurse--a thing that is occasionally done, and most +humanely. But there were technical difficulties in the way; the cottage +was either his own or partly his own, and relief could not be given to any +one possessed of 'property' Just then, too, there was a great movement +against, out-door relief; official circulars came round warning Boards to +curtail it, and much fuss was made. In the result the old man was driven +into the workhouse; muttering and grumbling, he had to be bodily carried +to the trap, and thus by physical force was dragged from his home. In the +workhouse there is of necessity a dead level of monotony--there are many +persons but no individuals. The dining-hall is crossed with forms and +narrow tables, somewhat resembling those formerly used in schools. On +these at dinner-time are placed a tin mug and a tin soup-plate for each +person; every mug and every plate exactly alike. When the unfortunates +have taken their places, the master pronounces grace from an elevated desk +at the end of the hall. + +Plain as is the fare, it was better than the old man had existed on for +years; but though better it was not his dinner. He was not sitting in his +old chair, at his own old table, round which his children had once +gathered. He had not planted the cabbage, and tended it while it grew, and +cut it himself. So it was, all through the workhouse life. The dormitories +were clean, but the ward was not his old bedroom up the worm-eaten steps, +with the slanting ceiling, where as he woke in the morning he could hear +the sparrows chirping, the chaffinch calling, and the lark singing aloft. +There was a garden attached to the workhouse, where he could do a little +if he liked, but it was not his garden. He missed his plum-trees and +apples, and the tall pear, and the lowly elder hedge. He looked round +raising his head with difficulty, and he could not see the sign-post, nor +the familiar red-bricked farmhouse. He knew all the rain that had fallen +must have come through the thatch of the old cottage in at least one +place, and he would have liked to have gone and rethatched it with +trembling hand. At home he could lift the latch of the garden gate and go +down the road when he wished. Here he could not go outside the +boundary--it was against the regulations. Everything to appearance had +been monotonous in the cottage--but there he did not feel it monotonous. + +At the workhouse the monotony weighed upon him. He used to think as he lay +awake in bed that when the spring came nothing should keep him in this +place. He would take his discharge and go out, and borrow a hoe from +somebody, and go and do a bit of work again, and be about in the fields. +That was his one hope all through his first winter. Nothing else enlivened +it, except an occasional little present of tobacco from the guardians who +knew him. The spring came, but the rain was ceaseless. No work of the kind +he could do was possible in such weather. Still there was the summer, but +the summer was no improvement; in the autumn he felt weak, and was not +able to walk far. The chance for which he had waited had gone. Again the +winter came, and he now rapidly grew more feeble. + +When once an aged man gives up, it seems strange at first that he should +be so utterly helpless. In the infirmary the real benefit of the workhouse +reached him. The food, the little luxuries, the attention were far +superior to anything he could possibly have had at home. But still it was +not home. The windows did not permit him from his bed to see the leafless +trees or the dark woods and distant hills. Left to himself, it is certain +that of choice he would have crawled under a rick, or into a hedge, if he +could not have reached his cottage. + +The end came very slowly; he ceased to exist by imperceptible degrees, +like an oak-tree. He remained for days in a semi-unconscious state, +neither moving nor speaking. It happened at last. In the grey of the +winter dawn, as the stars paled and the whitened grass was stiff with hoar +frost, and the rime coated every branch of the tall elms, as the milker +came from the pen and the young ploughboy whistled down the road to his +work, the spirit of the aged man departed. + +What amount of production did that old man's life of labour represent? +What value must be put upon the service of the son that fought in India; +of the son that worked in Australia; of the daughter in New Zealand, whose +children will help to build up a new nation? These things surely have +their value. Hodge died, and the very grave-digger grumbled as he delved +through the earth hard-bound in the iron frost, for it jarred his hand and +might break his spade. The low mound will soon be level, and the place of +his burial shall not be known. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HODGE AND HIS MASTERS*** + + +******* This file should be named 11874-8.txt or 11874-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/8/7/11874 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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