CHAPTER IX

PATRIOTIC PROPOSALS—1791-92

Illness—Correspondence with Washington—The King’s gift of a

ram—Anecdotes—Revising MSS.—Patriotic proposals—Death of the

Earl of Orford—Agricultural schemes—Correspondence.

The year opened with a continuation of that severe illness which had

confined me for some months. The following notes are from a journal

I kept at that time:—

This year my daughter Elizabeth married the Rev. Samuel Hoole, son

of the celebrated John Hoole, translator of Tasso and Ariosto. He is

a very sensible, moral man of strict integrity, and always behaved

to my daughter with much tenderness.

This same year my correspondence[139] opened with General

Washington. Having been applied to to procure some implements for

his husbandry, I wrote to him offering to procure any article in

that line which he might have occasion for, and accordingly

afterwards sent him many, amongst others the plan of a barn, which

he executed, and is represented by a plate in the ‘Annals of

Agriculture.’

This year his Majesty had the goodness to make me a present of a

Spanish Merino ram, a portrait of which I inserted in the ‘Annals.’

How many millions of men are there that would smile if I were to

mention the Sovereign of a great Empire giving a ram to a farmer as

an event that merited the attention of mankind! The world is full of

those who consider military glory as the proper object of the

ambition of monarchs; who measure regal merit by the millions that

are slaughtered; by the public robbery and plunder that are

dignified by the titles of dignity and conquest, and who look down

on every exertion of peace and tranquillity as unbecoming those who

aim at the epithet _great_, and unworthy the aim of men that are

born the masters of the globe.

My ideas are cast in a very different mould, and I believe the

period is advancing with accelerated pace that shall exhibit

characters in a light totally new, and shall rather brand than exalt

the virtues hitherto admired; that shall place in full blaze of

meridian lustre actions lost on the mass of mankind; that shall pay

more homage to the memory of a Prince that gave a ram to a farmer

than for wielding the sceptre obeyed alike on the Ganges and on the

Thames.

I shall presume to offer but one other general observation. When we

see his Majesty practising husbandry with that warmth that marks a

favourite pursuit, and taking such steps to diffuse a foreign breed

of sheep well calculated to improve those of his kingdoms; when we

see the Royal pursuits take such a direction, we may safely conclude

that the public measures which, in certain instances, have been so

hostile to the agriculture of this country, have nothing in common

with the opinions of our gracious Sovereign; such measures are the

work of men, who never felt for husbandry; who never practised it;

who never loved it; it is not such men that give rams to farmers.

_October 21._—A letter to-day from General Washington—Gracious! from

the representative of the Majesty of America, all written with his

own hand. Also one from the Marquis de la Fayette desiring my

assistance to get him a bailiff that understands English ornamental

gardening; for both he gives fifty louis[140] a year—this is a

French idea to unite what never was united, and, when gained, reward

it with wages little better than a common labourer.

_October 24._—Dined yesterday at Sir Thomas Gage’s to meet the Miss

Fergus’s and Dr. and Mrs. Onslow. This Dr. was the youngest son of

the late General Onslow, brother of my godfather, the Speaker, in

whose family my dear mother was for many years upon the most

intimate footing of private friendship.

When a boy I was frequently at his house, and well remember having

this Arthur, a child, on my knee. Mrs. Onslow mentioned how much she

had heard Mr. Boswell talk of my works. I fancy Boswell, from some

things I heard of him, and it seems confirmed by various passages in

his ‘Life of Johnson,’ has a sort of rage for knowing all sorts of

public men, good, bad, and indifferent, all one if a man renders

himself known he likes to be acquainted with him. Mrs. Onslow

reported to me the following conversation which took place at the

Prince’s table:—

The Prince of Wales, with a large company dining with him, said,

‘The three greatest coxcombs in England are in this room. Here is my

friend Hanger,[141] the Duke of Queensberry must come in for the

second;’ he made a pause, enough for the company to stare for the

third, and added, ‘for the third, it is certainly myself.’

When Sir W. Courtenay asked Lord Bute for a peerage, he carried his

pedigree with him. Lord Bute examined and pretended to be a good

judge of those things. He told Mr. Symonds that nothing could be

clearer or more unquestionable than his descent lineally from Louis

le Gros of France, the relationship with the House of Bourbon which

occasions the mourning of a day in the Court of France for the death

of a Courtenay.[142] Lord Bute told him his demand of a barony was

too modest, and that he should be a Viscount, which he was

accordingly.

_October 26._—In preparing my Travels [in France] for the press, I

experience strongly the importance of an author’s having composed so

much more than he means to print as to be able to strike out

largely.

My agreement with Richardson was to have six shillings a volume for

all sold of one guinea quarto volumes, but when Rackham’s compositor

came to cast off the MS. he found enough for two large quarto

volumes, since which discovery I had to strike out just half of what

I had written; and the advantage will be very great to the work. I

read the books as they are wanted for the press again and again,

reducing the quantity every time till I get it tolerably to my mind,

but yet not to the amount of half. The work is certainly improved by

this means, and I am strongly of opinion if nine-tenths of other

writers were to do the same thing their performances would be so

much the better; for one reads very few quartos that would not be

improved by reducing to octavo volumes.

_November 23._—I was five days last week at the Duke of Grafton’s,

Admiral, Mrs., and two Miss Pigots were there—she [Mrs. P.] is

sister to the Duchess, the Admiral is a very worthy man—Mr.

Stonehewer there also, and old Vary. I spent two days in taking the

level of the Duke’s river for four miles, in order to see how much

land he might water, and the improvement his estate is capable of is

very great indeed. The character of this Duke is original; he is

uncommonly sensible, there is no stuff in him; he is cold, silent,

reserved, and even at times sullen, and he is removed from all that

ease and suavity which render people agreeable; yet there is such a

solid understanding, and so much learning and knowledge on certain

topics, that one must value him in spite of our feelings.

Very little of the conversation interesting enough to be worth

recording. I was also at a new club which Ruggles[143] has

instituted at Melford, which might have been an agreeable thing had

there been half a dozen only.

The following are [among] the letters preserved this year:—

From Dr. Burney, congratulations, pleasant anecdotes, and an account

of a large auction of books, &c.:—

‘Chelsea College: Jan. 7, 1791.

‘My dear Arthur,—The precipice on which you have so long been

scrambling for life seems to be more dangerous than any one of

those which I had to encounter from Sarzana to Genoa or Genoa to

Final. In the first of these scrambles during three days and three

nights on a mule without bridle (except that of Jack Ketch) or

saddle, I had a torrent called the Magra roaring in my ears at a

perpendicular distance of eight hundred or a thousand feet, and,

in the second, the Mediterranean, during a storm which no vessel

could weather. In the darkest night I ever _saw_, with the

artificial lights of our lanterns extinguished by the violence of

the wind, at every twenty or thirty yards the _pedino_ (a man on

foot to guide the mule) cried out, “Alla montagna! alla montagna,

Signore!” which was an admonition to alight and crawl on all fours

over broken roads on the ridge of a precipice.

‘Now let _me_ play the _pedino’s_ part to your worship, and

admonish you to be very careful how you travel in the perilous way

to health which you have still to pass, after your escape from the

great precipice; for which escape, as an Italian would say, “_io

me ne congratulo non meno con me medesimo che con voi_.”

‘But besides congratulating you on your amendment, I have for some

time wished to tell you that in the Paitoni catalogue of Italian

books now selling by auction at Robson’s room, there are many on

Natural History and Agriculture. Now as you have dipped into

Italian literature and farming, it struck me on seeing the

catalogue that there may be several works that you would wish to

purchase, particularly as the Italian books of Science have

hitherto sold at this auction for almost nothing. I purchased

nearly fifty volumes of poetry and miscellanies, and my bill did

not amount to five pounds. The books are in exceeding good

condition, and most of them such as have never appeared before in

the Osburn, Payne, or Robson catalogues. I am inclined to think

that this sale will enrich future catalogues in our country for

many years to come. Indeed I was so tired of eternally meeting

with the same book over and over again that I had no longer

patience to read them.

‘If you see any you wish I will get them purchased, but as neither

your Bibliomania nor mine has ever raged to such a degree as to

wish to buy in at any price, it will be necessary to say that we

mean not to vie with those who being more curious in _books_ than

_authors_ procure them at any price to look at and not to read. A

rich acquaintance of mine, and a customer of old Tom Payne, has

often bought books in languages of which he knew not a single

word, merely because they were beautifully bound or very scarce.’

From another letter:—

‘I have not time nor space to lengthen my letter, or I should tell

you of a long conversation I had last Sunday at Lady Lucan’s

blue-stocking conversazione with Lord Macartney about you. He has

just come from Ireland and wanted to know whether you were

recovered—whether you come to London this winter, as he wished to

communicate some memorandums he made in perusing your “Irish Tour”

while he was in Ireland. He is a charming man, to my mind.

‘Poor Fanny[144] has been very ill indeed, and we have been in

expectation of her coming to nurse, but she will risk the dying at

her Majesty’s feet to show her zeal before she can be spared, I

suppose.

‘I have had the great Haydn here, and think him as _good_ a

creature as _great_ Musician. As to operas, the Pantheon

advertises to open as a theatre; it is the most elegant in Europe,

Pacchierotti says, but it has great enemies. The Haymarket folks

have not yet obtained a licence, at which they affect surprise,

though they were told so before their building was a foot high.

Old Mingotti is come over with her scholar Madame Lobo, the

intended first woman of the Haymarket. It will be a busy and

memorable season in the history of tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee

quarrels.

‘Adieu!

‘Believe me,

‘Yours very affectionately,

‘CHARLES BURNEY.’

‘Chelsea College: Sept. 21, 1791.

‘My dear Friend,—I am quite ashamed of not answering your kind and

hearty letter of invitation sooner. But a listless and irresolute

disposition has made my mind for some time past as flimsy as a

dish-clout, and I must _confess_ that I have invariably "left

undone those things which I _ought_ to have done"—“for there was

no health in me,” indeed, not enough to enable me “to do many

things which I _ought not_ to have done.” Original sin and

depravity just enabled me to _read_ when I should have _written_,

and to lie in bed when I should have got up, &c. I wished to

commit other _guess_ crimes than those, to have rambled over a

great part of the kingdom and revelled with distant friends. But

prudence, in the shape of rheumatism, and in many other hideous

shapes, prevented me. Yet, in spite of all these admonitions, I

had a month’s mind to accept of your hospitable offer. But we have

guests at our apartments now, my two aged sisters, and, when they

depart, winter will begin to show his sour face and chain me to my

chimney corner till after Christmas, when I shall be unfettered,

merely to be dragged into the hurry and din of London, which are

every year more and more insupportable. I have long ceased to like

the country, except in long days and fine weather, and, in winter,

prefer London with all its horrors and fatigues to rural

amusements. Indeed, autumn with all its golden glow and variegated

charms for landscape painters is to me a constant _memento mori_,

with its withered leaves tumbling about my ears; and all my most

severe attacks of rheumatism have been during the equinoctial

winds and rains; so that I am afraid of trusting myself far from

home at this season of the year, as one can be sick and cross

nowhere so _comfortably_ as at home.

‘Having scribbled my apology, I must now hasten to congratulate

you and Mrs. Young on the marriage of our dear and worthy girl

Bessy.[145] The match, indeed, is not splendid for either in point

of circumstances; but they are quite as likely to scramble happily

through life, with good hearts and wishes limited to their means,

as the richest peers and peeresses in the land, who generally

outlive their income, be it what it will, and have mortifications

incident to pride and disappointed ambition which little folk know

nothing about. They (I mean our young couple) have my hearty

benediction and good wishes. A man without family attachments is

an awkward and insulated being, but a woman without a mate is

still more insignificant and helpless; and, having become

adventurers in the matrimonial lottery, I sincerely hope they will

gain a prize in the fortuitous distribution of such happiness as

reasonable mortals have a right to expect.

‘I dare not venture on French politics. What a marvellous period

in the history of that nation! I think the clergy and many worthy

people of the lower class of nobility have been cruelly used, and

that the mob is at present too powerful and insolent. Too much has

been promised them, and nothing short of an agrarian law will

satisfy them. The word tax, _taille_, impost, are carefully

avoided in the National Chart. But they must be levied under some

denomination or other, and, I fancy, “contribution” will be as

detestable a term in France, ere long, as “free-gift” was in

England during the last century. I wish the worthy people of

France may enjoy the rational liberty which seems now in their

power, but I question whether the inhabitants of that kingdom in

general will deserve the ample liberty which is offered them, or

know how to use it. I think them so fickle and frivolous that I

should not be surprised if in a few years they were as tired of

their new Government as the English at the death of Oliver

Cromwell. In the meantime what has happened in America and France

will shake every sovereignty upon earth. The French Guards laying

down their arms when ordered to fire on the mob will make mobs

formidable things in every country, for whenever a similar

defection happens a revolution must be the consequence.

‘I am sorry not to be able to give your friend, Mr. Capel Lofft,

an account of any Lyre in modern times having been in use that has

been constructed, strung, and tuned on the principles of the

antients. Innumerable volumes have been written on their division

of the scale and genera. Kircher, indeed, calls a Vielle a

hurdy-gurdy, Lyra mendicorum. And a Viol da Gamba, with additional

strings and new tuning, was in the last century called a

Lyra-Viol. Mace,[146] Playford,[147] Simpson,[148] I believe, and

others describe this instrument. But though many modern

instruments have had the honour of being called Lyres, yet none of

them resemble the antient in their form or in the manner of

playing them. The Mandoline is the only modern instrument played

with anything like a plectrum. Vicenzio Galileo, the father of

Galileo, in his tract, “Della Musica antica e moderna,” published

at Florence 1602, speaks much of the similarity of the antient

Lyre and Cythara, but gives more proof from antient authors of

their _difference_ than _identity_. He tells us, however, that

“the modern Harp, which is nothing but the antient Cythara with

many strings, was brought into Italy from Ireland.” Now the Irish

harp is a single instrument of few strings, partly brass and

partly steel, and of such small compass as to admit no bass, being

confined to mere melody. Carolan, the celebrated modern Irish

Bard, played only the treble part of tunes. And it seems to me as

if this simple instrument resembled the antient Lyre and Cythara

more than any other modern instrument with which I am acquainted.

Pray tell Mr. Lofft that I have examined Bonanni’s description of

all the musical instruments that are known, with engravings of

them all, but found nothing satisfactory about a modern Lyre. This

book was published at Rome 1722. I have likewise looked into

Ceruti’s new edition with corrections, 1776, without success.

‘I am, my dear friend,

‘Yours affectionately,

‘CHARLES BURNEY.’

From Dr. John Symonds on the political state of the country—an

account of a conference between Mr. Pitt and the Duke of Grafton:—

‘Bates’ Hotel, Adelphi: April 19, 1791.

‘My dear Young,—Hope you will not expect to hear me talking on

Agriculture; of that you will have a sufficient taste from seeing

the wonderful knowledge exhibited by all the House of Commons in

the Corn Bill. You will look for something on politics, though the

newspapers themselves sufficiently show the straits to which Mr.

Pitt is driven; for his majority is such as will ruin any Minister

if a war be unpopular; and had the American war been so at first,

it is not probable that Lord North would have dared to pursue it,

though he was so strongly supported in Parliament.

‘The truth is, some of Mr. Pitt’s bosom friends absolutely refuse

to vote with him on this occasion. Among these are Wilberforce and

Banks. The Duke of Grafton desired his son-in-law, Mr. Smith, to

tell Mr. Pitt he wished to have some conversation with him; Mr.

Pitt very politely came and staid half-an-hour, and the Duke used

every argument he could think of to convince him, both of the

impolicy and injustice of the war, "that the augmentation of taxes

coming upon the neck of the cessed ones, and malt tax, which made

a great noise, would occasion universal discontent, if not worse

effects; that we ought to lay no stress upon the promises of a

Turkish Ministry and advantages in the Turkey trade, which must

chiefly accrue to France from her situation, and other causes;

that what we could do in the Baltic was merely to burn a few

villages and distress individuals, as the Russian fleet would lie

securely among rocks, that Russia appeared to act with moderation

in desiring to retain Ockzakow only; and that to plunge this

nation into a vast expense, merely to serve the King of Prussia’s

views, when we could obtain no benefit from it, would expose the

Ministry to very great censure, more especially as we entered into

it as volunteers, not being obliged to it by the terms of the

Treaty." Other things which his Grace said I omit, as every

argument has been used in the House of Commons. The conference

ended as conferences of this sort generally do—each of them kept

to his opinion.

‘You observe probably in the papers, that on Baker’s motion, Pole

Carew moved the previous question and contended “that the

interests of all are closely connected even in respect to things

not stipulated by treaty.” This judicious doctrine was first

advanced by the Chancellor, and Mr. Pitt defended in his speech on

Baker’s motion. According to this doctrine, there is no difference

between defensive and offensive treaties; all the writer’s _de

jure gentium_ should be burnt, and, indeed, most of the European

treaties also; and it is certain that under such circumstances

England ought never to make an alliance on the Continent unless a

Continental war were actually broken out; otherwise she could not

foresee the consequences to which she would be exposed.

‘Charles Fox said in his speech on Baker’s motion “that Mr. Pitt

dared not to enter into the war, and that he kept a majority

together at present by his assurance that there would not be one.”

‘This is, perhaps, the case; but however it may be, it is certain

that Faukner, Clerk of the Council, is sent to Berlin, and most

persons think with a view of showing the King of Prussia the

impossibility of persuading this country to enter into a Russian

war. Had Mr. Pitt felt the pulse of the Parliament and people

before he delivered the King’s message, he would have saved his

credit, though he might have been blamed; but he has now run into

the horns of a dilemma, as the logicians call it. If he prosecute

the war, he will infallibly be ex-Minister, and bad consequences

are to be apprehended in a country oppressed by taxes and heated

by political pamphlets; if he give it ‘up, he will lose all his

influence in the eyes of Europe, and teach foreign Courts that no

confidence is to be placed in an English Minister. His friends

lament very much this last circumstance.

‘Adieu!

JOHN SYMONDS.’

A circumstance in the exploits of my public career which made,

perhaps, a more general impression than any other event of my life,

was the proposal in 1792 for arming the property of the Kingdom in a

sort of horse militia. My first suggestion of this idea was in May

(of that year). Should any have claimed it, or should any hereafter

form such a claim, it ought in truth and strict candour to be

absolutely rejected. The proposal was more formally made in August

of the same year in the ‘Annals,’ vol. xviii. p. 495, under the

title of French events.[149] In the end of 1792 and the beginning of

1793 these papers were collected and much enlarged in a pamphlet

entitled, ‘The Example of France,’ &c. which ran speedily through

four numerous editions, and excited a very general attention. The

author was publicly thanked in resolutions of associated assemblies,

and my great plea of a horse militia produced almost immediately

three volunteer corps of cavalry, which multiplied rapidly through

the Kingdom. It is not known that any persons or any bodies of men

ever laid claim to a priority in this idea; accordingly my health

was the first toast given for being the origin of those corps,

which, when assembled, had this opportunity of publicly declaring

their opinion. The scheme took with astonishing celerity, and became

the parent of a measure of a very different complexion, which was

putting arms into the hands of thousands without property, and upon

whose allegiance and constitutional principle but little reliance

could be placed. Government received demands for arms to the amount

of above 700,000 men. The Ministers were alarmed, and saw too late

the consequence of their own blindness and incapacity. They refused

their consent, in many cases without properly discriminating between

men with and without property, and felt themselves in so awkward a

position that it is no wonder their conduct continued void of any

steady adherence to the principle of the original proposition. Had

my plan not only been adopted but carried into execution, strictly

upon the principles I had explained, we might from that moment to

the present have had a horse militia, absolutely under the command

of Government, numbering from 100,000 to 200,000 men, which might,

by progressive improvements, have been matured into a force

efficient for every purpose. It is very seldom that so private an

individual can by a happy thought become the origin of a system

which, had my principles been steadily adhered to, would have been

attended with inconceivable benefit, and none of those evils, real

or imaginary, afterwards attributed to volunteers in general.

The pamphlet rendered the author exceedingly popular among all the

friends of government and order, and as unpopular among the whole

race of reformers and Jacobins. I was not content with the mere

theoretical idea, but in my own person put it into practice, and

enrolled myself in the ranks of a corps raised at my recommendation,

in the vicinity of Bury [St. Edmunds], and commanded by the present

Marquis of Cornwallis, then Lord Broome, having with this intention

learnt the sword exercise at London of a sergeant, who was eminently

skilled in it. My example was followed by gentlemen of fortune,

several of whom were also in the ranks and refused to be officers.

This was a part of the plan of particular importance, for had

gentlemen accepted only the situation of officers, the spirit of

entering the corps among yeomen, farmers &c. would have been much

cooler; but when they saw their landlords, and men of high

consideration in the neighbourhood, in the same situation, their

vanity was flattered, and they enrolled themselves with great

readiness, and the great object of property of such importance in

case of revolutionary disturbance was thus secured.

Some years afterwards, being at the Duke of Bedford’s at Woburn, I

sat at dinner by a gentleman of great property, captain of a troop

of yeomanry, who told me that whenever his troop met he always drank

my health after the King’s, for being the undisputed origin of all

the yeomanry corps in the kingdom, possibly arising from extracts

from my writings on the subject having been much circulated in the

newspapers.

This year my valuable and very sincere friend, the Earl of Orford,

died. The public papers that have announced the death of this noble

lord have recorded the ancestry from which he was descended, the

heirs of his honours, and the inheritors of his wealth, and have

dwelt upon the titles that are extinct or devolved, together with

all the posts and employments that are vacant. To me be the

melancholy duty of noting what is of much more moment than the

descent of a peerage or the transfer of an estate—the loss of an

animated improver; of one who gave importance to cultivation by a

thorough knowledge of political economy, and bent all his endeavours

towards making mankind happy by seconding the pursuits of the farmer

and the enquiries of the experimentalist. I leave the lieutenancy of

a county, the rangership of a park, and the honours of the

bedchamber to those in whose eyes such baubles are respectable. I

would rather dwell on the merit of the first importer of Southdown

sheep into Norfolk; on the merit of sending to the most distant

regions for breeds of animals, represented as useful, not indeed

always with success, but never without liberality in the motive; on

the patron and friend of the common farmer, not the lord of a little

circle of tenants, but the general and diffusive encourager of every

species of agricultural improvement. Nor did he associate with the

useful men because he was not qualified for the company of higher

classes, for his mind was fraught with a great extent of knowledge;

it was decorated by no trivial stores of classical learning, which

exercised and set off the powers of a brilliant imagination, and

thus qualified, alike for a Court or an Academy of Science, he felt

no degradation in attending to THE PLOUGH. By the death of this

noble personage the ‘Annals’ have lost a valuable correspondent, and

their editor a warm friend. Notwithstanding the immense list of

Peers, seven or eight only have become correspondents in this work.

The insects of a drawing-room, the patrons of faro, the luminaries

of Newmarket, are spared; while the hand of death deprives the

farmer of a friend, Norfolk of a protector, and England of a real

patriot.

Lord Loughborough was the Judge at the Summer Assizes this year at

Bury, and I being on the Grand Jury, he sent a note to inform me

that he was alone at his lodgings, and desired me to come and chat

with him. This I did, of course, and in our conversation he

mentioned that there was an estate of 4,400 acres of land in

Yorkshire on the moors, in the vicinity of Paitley Bridge, to be

sold for 4,000_l._, that it was chiefly freehold, and enclosed with

a ring fence, also that there was a neat shooting-box on it built by

the Duke of Devonshire, who hired the grouse. I assured his Lordship

that he must be mistaken, for it was impossible that such a tract of

land under several circumstances which he named could be on sale for

half an hour without being purchased. He answered that nobody would

buy it, as the land was all moor or peat, and covered with ling, but

that some neighbouring farmers gave, he believed, 100l. per annum

for the whole as a walk for mountain sheep. I told him that it

seemed so extraordinary to me that I would go immediately to view

it. He said the proper persons to apply to to view it were Sir Cecil

Wray, Dr. Kilvington, and another gentleman. I accordingly went

immediately to Yorkshire, and, taking up my quarters at Paitley

Bridge, enquired till I found a person who knew the whole estate

perfectly well, and engaged him early the next morning in order to

make the tour of the whole property. It appeared to me to be

wonderfully improvable, and that very considerable tracts to the

amount of some hundred acres were palpably capable of irrigation and

improvement, evidently applicable from the case of a small

watercourse for conducting the water to an old smelting mill, but

long neglected. This course had overflowed and converted the ling,

over about fifteen acres, to grass. I asked my conductor what this

grass would let for with a small cottage and stable for cows; he

said, ‘Certainly fifteen shillings an acre.’ It was sufficiently

evident that improvements might be wrought at a very small expense,

and that building was remarkably cheap, from every material except

timber being found on the spot, and lime at a small distance. There

was a small farm in cultivation to produce oats, and the appearance

not unfavourable. As I knew that a land surveyor well acquainted

with all this country resided at Leeds, I determined to go thither

to bring him over to view, and give his opinion as to the value of

the property. This I did, brought him over in a postchaise, and rode

with him over the principal part of the estate. His opinion

confirmed my own, nor must I forget to mention that this estate was

to be purchased without money as it was offered on its own security

in mortgage.

In the enclosure of this immense waste, called forest, there were

two allotments purchased by the proprietors, one of 1,638 acres, and

another of 1,113, in all 2,751 acres, which were a copyhold tenure,

at a small fine certain. In addition to which they hired, at the

same time, on a long lease, 1,614 acres more, being an allotment to

the King, at a rent of 50_l._ in money, and 50_l._ to be laid out on

improvements. The whole, situated half-way between Knaresboro’ and

Skipton, I found walled in; three farm-houses built, with barns and

offices of various sorts, and lands annexed, and partly subdivided,

to the amount of about 400 acres; the remaining 4,000 in one vast

waste. These farms produced the rent of 44_l._ 5_s._ The game was

let at 30_l._ with the use of a handsome shooting-box, sufficient

for the residence of a small family. Peat dug from the bogs produced

from 6_l._ to 8_l._ a year; and the great waste was let at 100_l._ a

year, which, for 4,000 acres, is at the rate of sixpence per acre.

The annual rental was therefore about 181_l._ per annum. From these

circumstances it appeared clear to me that the purchase could not

well be an unfavourable speculation. 2,750 acres (throwing the

leasehold entirely out of the question) for 4,400_l._ is exactly

32_l._ an acre fee simple for land that paid a mere trifle in poor

rates and land tax,[150] and tithe free; it did not seem therefore

to be necessary that the produce should amount to three shillings,

for if the rent was reckoned only at one shilling it was but

thirty-two years’ purchase. I determined, therefore, to make it, and

concluded the transaction as soon as possible.

My plan was, to let my farm in Suffolk, of about 300 acres, and

transfer the capital, with some additions, to the gradual

improvement of this large tract; and, in doing this, I should have

begun with one farm on the Southern extremity, near the turnpike

road, of three or four hundred acres, let separately for 20_l._ a

year, but all a waste, and, in addition to this, have run a watering

canal from one of the streams, till from 100 to 200 acres were below

the level, walling such tract in. Thus prepared, I found myself at

last in a situation to realise the speculations I had so long been

busy in—when a new scene of a very different kind opened upon me—but

of that hereafter.

The following are the letters of this year reserved. From J.

Symonds, Esq., an account of the Duke of Grafton’s illness:—

‘Euston: Jan. 30, 1792.

‘So you tell me that I know not how to stay at home! but this is a

visit of pure friendship, for the duke likes very well to chat

with me, though he is so nervous as hardly to bear with strangers.

Yesterday Lord Clermont, who is very intimate with him, came

hither, but he was too much for the duke, and had he not gone away

this morning, the duchess would have hinted it gently to him. What

would you do with such nerves?

‘Last night, instead of reading a sermon or charge, I read to the

whole company (by the duke’s desire) your essays on the place of

corn and capital employed in the French husbandry, with which he

had been so pleased. Lord Clermont, who has lived much in France,

and though a man of pleasure, had inquired much into the state of

that country, was not more delighted than surprised with them.

“Well, then,” said the duke, “as you like them so much and intend

to buy the book, recommend it as much as possible to your friends

in the great world.” This he engaged to do. His Lordship gave a

pressing invitation for you and I to pass two or three days with

him; he fixed upon the month of May, which will suit me, and, I

hope, you.

‘As an inducement I was to tell you that he has marled four

hundred and fifty acres with a hundred and twenty loads an

acre—this is an object.

‘J SYMONDS.’

J. W. Coke, Esq., M.P., proposing some laws for the benefit of the

poor in their present distress:—

‘Holkham: Oct. 23, 1792.

‘Dear Sir,—I have no better motive to urge for addressing myself

to you upon the subject of this letter than that I know of no man

so well qualified as yourself to give me the information I stand

in need of, should my plan be thought practicable and useful by

you, otherwise I should take shame to myself to intrude for a

moment on your time, which I esteem so precious, as it is always

most usefully employed in the most laudable pursuits.

‘Having turned my thoughts much of late to the most probable

causes of the discontent among the lower classes of people in this

country, I find that the high price of provisions, especially of

bread, has been invariably the motive assigned by them whenever

they have assembled in a tumultuous manner. And this is not

surprising, as the existence of a poor man’s family must depend

upon that last-mentioned necessary article, most truly his staff

of life. It is surely, then, the interest, as well as the duty, of

the landed proprietors to endeavour by every means that can be

devised that the poor may never suffer in this respect. Now, it

has occurred to me that perhaps a Bill might be framed to fix an

assize on flour according to the average price of wheat.

‘That millers should be obliged to grind for all persons at a

certain sum per bushel instead of toll; persons being at liberty

to inspect their corn whilst grinding, and that allowance should

be made to millers for any alleged deficiency in grinding. All

complaints to be heard in a summary way before a Justice of the

Peace, and the complaint to be made within six days. The average

price of wheat to be taken from the nearest market at the

discretion of the Justice. Penal clauses should also be enacted

against millers adulterating wheat and mixing water with the meal

to increase its weight.

‘These loose hints I submit to your superior judgment and better

information; but, from my own observation, I do suspect the poor

suffer greatly from the shameful practices and combinations of the

millers, which I should be proud to check by bringing a Bill into

Parliament as one of the representatives of the great arable

county, should you approve the idea and would have the goodness to

lend me your assistance in framing the Bill.

‘I must also mention another cruel grievance to the poor, that

there is no legal restraint on shopkeepers in villages respecting

their weights and measures.

‘Could no means be devised to protect the buyer from the artifices

of the seller without injury to the latter in their honest gains?

Why might not magistrates have the power of punishing for short

weights and measures, complaint to be made within six days?

‘I remain, dear Sir.

‘Yours very sincerely,

‘J. W. COKE.’

From Dr. Burney on my ‘Travels’ and his own engagements:—

‘Chelsea College: July 17, 1792.

‘My dear Friend,—Your very kind and hearty invitation to Bradfield

came at a time when I was utterly unable to answer it. I was just

emerged from the sick room into daily hurry and business, for

which I was but little fit, and am still detained here by an

unusual number of engagements for this time of year, the end of

which I am not able to see. If my _patients_ had walked off as

early as I wished them, or if, like other _doctors_, I could have

them put to their long home by a dash of my pen, I really believe

I should not have been able to resist the lure you threw out; but

now, if I am able to travel, or fit for any house but my own, I

have two positive engagements on my hands of long standing: the

first to Mickleham, to my daughter, Phillips, where I promised, as

soon as I could pronounce myself a convalescent, to go and

complete my cure; the other is to Crewe Hall, in Cheshire, whither

I have been going more than twice seven years; and at which place

I was so sure of arriving last August, that my correspondents, at

my request, addressed their letters to me there. This year the

claims upon me and Fanny have been so powerfully renewed by Mrs.

Crewe that nothing but increased indisposition can resist them.

She has promised to carry us down by slow journeys, and, if it

should be necessary for me to go to Buxton for my confounded

rheumatism (which, though less painful, still deprives me of all

use of my left paw), she will even accompany me thither. My poor

wife is also in sad health, and we are neither of us fit for

anything but to _con ailments_ with those who are as old and

infirm as ourselves. But we send you a splinter[151] from us,

before we were quite broke up and unfit for service. It is not

sufficient to improve your fire of a wet day, but may perhaps be

of some little use in the way of kindling.

‘I thank you heartily for your very interesting book of “Travels.”

It is in public perusal of an evening, and has fastened on us. The

parts of France which you have traversed were to me almost

unknown. I never saw the Loire or the Garonne. No one can accuse

you of drowsiness, like old Homer and such folks; you are always

awake, and keep your readers so. We are now in the midst of that

most astonishing of all events, the French Revolution, and like

your narrative extremely. Though an enemy to the old tyranny, you

neither reason about the rights of man like Wat Tyler or even Tom

Payne. You saw coming on all the evils which anarchy has

occasioned. You have long seen the futility of theory without

practice among French agriculturists, and the political

philosophers who think themselves wiser than the experiences of

all antiquity, and not content with anything already done, must

needs set about inventing an entire new government, and you see

what a fine mess they have made of it.

‘Yours ever,

‘CHARLES BURNEY.’

From Miss Burney, afterwards Mdme. d’Arblay, writing on some traits

of my character, &c.:—

‘Chelsea College: July 17, 1792.

‘Nay, if you talk of your difficulties in fabricating an epistle

to me, please to consider how much greater are mine in attempting

to answer it. You! a country farmer, the acknowledged head of “the

_only art worth cultivating_,” as you tell us,—the contemner of

every other pursuit, the scorner of all old customs, the defier of

all musty authorities, the derider of all fogrum superiors,—in one

word a Jacobin. You afraid? and of whom? a Chelsea pensioner? One

who, maimed in the royal service, ignobly forbears, spurning royal

reparation? One who, though flying a court, degenerately refrains

from hating or even reviling kings, queens, and princesses? One

who presumes to wish as well to manufactures for her outside, as

to agriculture for her inside? One who has the ignorance to

reverence commerce, and who cannot think of a single objection to

the Wool Bill? One, in short, and to say all that is abominable at

once, one who in theory is an aristocrat, and in practice a

_ci-devant_ courtier?

‘And shall a creature of this description, the willing advocate of

every opinion, every feeling you excommunicate from “your business

and bosom,” _dare_ to write to _you_? Impossible!

‘Whether I shall come and see you all or not is another matter. If

I can I will.

‘P.S. Will Honeycomb says if you would know anything of a lady’s

meaning (always providing she has any) when she writes to you,

look at her postscript. Now pray, dear sir, how came you ever to

imagine what you are pleased to blazon to the world with all the

confidence of self-belief, that you think farming the only thing

worth manly attention? You, who, if taste rather than circumstance

had been your guide, might have found wreaths and flowers almost

any way you had turned, as fragrant as those of Ceres.’

My reply:—

‘You, “the willing advocate of every feeling I excommunicate from

my bosom,” knew you had thrown so bitter a potion into your letter

that you could not (kind creature!) help a little sweetening in

the postscript; but must there in your sweets be some alloy? Could

you not conclude without falling foul of poor Ceres?

‘Your letter, or rather your profession of faith, is one of the

worst political creeds I remember to have read; you see no merit

but beneath a diadem. In government a professed aristocrat, in

political economy a monopolist, who commends manufactures, not as

a market for the farmer, but for the much nobler purpose of

contributing to adorn your _outside_; and who can attain not one

better idea of the immortal plough than that of giving some

sustenance to your _inside_. But, by the way, is not that inside

of yours an equivoque? Do you mean your real or your metaphorical

inside, your ribs or your feelings? If you allude to your brains,

they are by your own account a _wool_-gathering. Do you mean your

heart, and that the philosophical contemplation of so pure an

engine as the plough is the sustenance of your best emotions? How

will that agree with the panegyrist of a court and the satirist of

a farm? Or is it that this inside of yours is a mere bread and

cheese cupboard, which, certes, the plough can furnish? Or is it a

magic lanthorn full of gay delusions, lighted by tallow from the

belly of a sheep? Till you have settled these doubts, I know not

which you prefer, manufactures for improving your complection, or

agriculture for farming your heart. Nor must you wonder at such

questions arising while you use terms that leave one in doubt

whether you mean your head or your tail. I know something of the

one; the other is a metaphor. Though there is high treason against

the plough in almost every line of your letter, yet the words _If

I can I will_ are not in the spirit that contains the Eleusinian

mysteries; they bring balm to my wounded feelings.’

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Footnote 139:

These letters were sold by Sotheby, Wilkinson & Co., London,

December 1896.

Footnote 140:

Louis d’or at this time worth 24 francs.—_Littré._

Footnote 141:

The well-known Colonel George Hanger, afterwards fourth Lord

Coleraine. ‘He served in the Army during the American War, and was

afterwards a distinguished character in high society. Wrote his

_Life, Adventures, and Opinions_.’—_Annual Register_, 1824.

Footnote 142:

See on this subject Gibbon’s _Rome_, vol. xi. ch. lxi.

Footnote 143:

Th. Ruggles, author of a _History of the Poor_, reprinted

afterwards from the _Annals of Agriculture_. Many passages were

omitted, in accordance with the wishes of Pitt.—_Lowndes._

Footnote 144:

Dr. Burney’s daughter, Madame d’Arblay.

Footnote 145:

Arthur Young’s daughter Elizabeth, the first wife of Rev. Samuel

Hoole.

Footnote 146:

Th. Mace, author of _Music’s Monument_.

Footnote 147:

T. Playford, author of _Music’s Delight, &c._, 1668, 1676.

Footnote 148:

C. Simpson, author of _The Division Viol_, 1687.

Footnote 149:

See the _Travels in France_, Bohn’s Library, p. 335 _et seq._, for

the views therein set forth.

Footnote 150:

All the public charges on 4,000 acres amounted only to 14_l._

Footnote 151:

His daughter Sarah, the writer of several ingenious and

interesting works.—A. Y.

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The autobiography of Arthur Young · 第 9 / 16 章