AN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ANSWER

(BY ALICE POLLARD)

[30] From 'Longman's Magazine,' by leave of the publishers.

The title of this article is not of my own choosing. It was

fore-ordained for me some time back by the rather excited correspondents

of a daily newspaper, which opened its columns to as many solutions of

the riddle as ingenuity could devise. It may fairly be objected that the

riddle is no riddle at all, but rather belongs to the class of

question-begging queries of which 'How long have you ceased beating your

mother?' is the most famous example. As a matter of fact, most men _do_

marry, and it seems, therefore, unreasonable to be asked to explain why

they don't. But on this one point my sex is perhaps a little

unreasonable. Women have never acquiesced wholeheartedly in Mr.

Stevenson's assertion that though the ideal woman is a wife the ideal

man is a bachelor, and so long as even a small minority of men of

presentable appearance and some visible means of subsistence persist in

denying themselves a man's highest privilege, the problem will doubtless

continue to be stated in the sweeping form which I here adopt.

The most hardened offenders are undoubtedly the members of a single

class: pleasant young fellows, with an income of three or four hundred a

year and no prospect of increasing it. A bachelor with £400 a year, if

he live within it, persists in regarding himself as a miracle of

economy, but with even the smallest gift of husbandry is probably as

rich as any man in the kingdom. To marry on the same £400 means a

terrible falling-off in the standard of comfort, and the one luxury

which these pleasant fellows religiously deny themselves is that of a

wife.

The story is not a new one, and the other day, in looking over some

pamphlets in a great library, I came across a thin quarto, entitled,

'The Batchelor's Estimate of the Expences of a Married Life In a Letter

to a Friend. Being an Answer to a Proposal of Marrying a Lady with

2000_l._ Fortune.' The date of the pamphlet is 1729, and in it the

situation is set forth with so much circumstance, and in so engaging a

manner, that I thought there might be some readers who would care to

spend a few minutes in looking at it with me.

A gentleman, himself a married man, having a relation a spinster of a

marriageable age, and possessing also the, for those days, by no means

despicable fortune of £2000, has proposed to a bachelor friend to

negotiate a marriage between them.

The bachelor has no innate objection to marriage as such--on the

contrary, he looks upon it as 'an agreeable state'; but he cannot 'at

present accept the proposal' because 'the following necessary expenses

arise so frequently and so openly to his view' that they deter him from

considering marriage as possible.

Up to the present time he has lived in chambers at the moderate rent of

£12, 10s. per annum. But so impressed is he with the probable

requirements of a lady with the 'handsome Fortune' of £2000, that he

sees himself at once obliged to secure a house with a rental of £50.

As a bachelor in chambers he has been lucky enough to escape all

'Church, Window and Poor's Taxes, Payments to Rector, Reader and

Lecturer, Water Rates, Trophy Money,[31] Militia, Lamp, Scavengers,

Watch, Constable, etc.' As a married man he calculates that for these

things alone he will be mulcted to the extent of 'at least' £9 per

annum.

[31] Trophy money was a duty paid by householders for providing the

militia with harness, drums, colours, etc.

Our friend was, we presume, in the habit of taking his morning cup of

coffee at a coffee-house. Now he sees in imagination not only his own

and his wife's daily supply of coffee to be provided, but he pictures

the innumerable 'dishes of tea' which will be consumed by her and her

maids, not to mention the additional quantity for gossips and card

parties. Thus, 'Tea, Coffee, Chocolate, Sugar, Spirits and Fresh Supply

of China will cost 12_l._ per annum.' We are tempted to inquire what

proportion of this sum must be set aside for 'spirits' and broken

crockery, and why, indeed, there should be any connection between them,

unless tea-drinkings in the early part of the eighteenth century were

too often modelled on the style of a certain famous one known to readers

of Dickens.

The consideration of tea, this being essentially a domestic article,

leads our bachelor to the question of servants. For his own use he has

been content with the services of a bedmaker, to whom he gave 50s. a

year. He forgets to add an unknown sum to pay for the waste,

impositions, and perquisites inseparable from a bedmaker's existence. In

the future the dignity of a citizen, a householder, and a married man

has to be supported, and the weight of this can only be sustained by a

staff of 'two Maid-servants and a Man'--the man to be in livery. Yet

even these luxuries will not cost him such a very large sum, since he

reckons to procure them all, livery included, for an additional £17,

10s. per annum--_i.e._ £20 in all.

We are next let into his confidence with regard to the proper amount of

entertainment he will think it fit and necessary to allow his wife. She

must certainly go to the play, but a lady of independent fortune, the

mistress of a grand house and a servant in livery, cannot be expected to

walk out in evening-dress, so a coach or chair must be provided for her

conveyance, and for the hire of these he makes a yearly computation of

£3, 10s. 'Her expenses at these Diversions' (which included, doubtless,

entrance fees and refreshments) would amount to another £3, 10s. As a

staid and steady bachelor not given (as he tells us later on) to

'sauntering at Coffee-Houses' or playing at hazard, he has been content

with going to the play about once a year, but now, as 'it would not be

proper she should go alone,' this exemplary husband will even sacrifice

his own inclinations, and, obeying the call of duty, attend his wife at

a cost of £1, 10s. a year! Not only is he considerate in the matter of

providing for his wife's pleasures, but he seems to us decidedly liberal

in the matter of pin-money, as he sets aside £30 for her personal

expenses.

Coals and candles weigh heavily on his mind. His landlady has hitherto

kept him sufficiently warm for an annual 40s. (coals must have been much

cheaper, landladies less of harpies, or the winters much milder in those

days!), but in his new establishment coals and candles will run up to

the large sum of £15.

His bachelor dinners have cost him an average of 10s. per week; when

married he must still dine, and even divert himself with 'evening

expenses' common both to married men and bachelors, so that instead of

a modest £25 for dinners he will now have to pay the following yearly

bills:

£ _s._ _d._

The Butcher 35 00 00

" Poulterer 06 00 00

" Fishmonger 07 00 00

" Herb-Woman 05 00 00

" Oylman 05 00 00

" Baker 08 00 00

" Brewer 10 00 00

" Grocer 06 00 00

" Confectioner 02 00 00

" Cheesemonger 04 00 00

Wine, Cyder, etc., at a moderate computation 30 00 00

The Fruiterer 01 10 00

The Milk-Woman 01 00 00

Salt, Small-coal, Rotten-stone, Brick-dust,

Sand, Oat-meal, Whiteing and many other

little Ingredients in House-Keeping I am

ignorant of 02 00 00

This detailed calculation over, we again catch a glimpse of the man's

personality and his conception of what is due from him towards a wife.

'If my Wife pleases me, as I do not doubt but your Relation will, (I

know my own Temper so well in that Respect that) I shall be often making

her Presents of either Rings, Jewels, Snuff-Boxes, Watch, Tweezers, some

Knick-Knacks, and Things of that Nature, in which, one Year with

another, I am sure I shall spend 5_l._' After this it occurs to him that

he has left out one important source of expense which he 'least wishes

for,' but which 'happens in most Families'--that is, the fees of doctor

and apothecary, which will, he fears, average £5 per annum.

'As for Children, we may reasonably expect one in every two Years, if

not oftener.' Reckoning the 'Expence of Lying-Inne, Child-Linen,

Midwife, Nurses, Caudles, Possets, Cradle, Christenings, etc.,' the

annual expense consequent on being a family man will be £15. But the

initial expense is not all: 'Nursing, Maintaining, Education, Cloathes,

Schooling,' and--here, surely, we have found the prototype of Mr. Walter

Besant's ideal father--providing an endowment or fortune for each child

will require a sum of £30 per annum; and he is 'satisfied' that he has

stated a sum 'vastly less' than is likely to prove needful in the end--a

foreboding in which he was certainly justified, for of payments for

school and 'cloathing,' now as then, there is no end!

Having provided himself in imagination with wife, house, servants, and

children, our far-seeing friend suddenly remembers that his dignity and

respectability will require to be supported by a seat in church, so we

find an entry, 'Pew in Church,' £2. This is followed, although we cannot

trace the connection, by an estimate of £8 per annum for 'Washing his

wife's and the Family Linen,' and we wonder how laundresses managed to

live in those days. But so far the house is not furnished, and an

initial £350 must be found for that. Fifty pounds is to go for plate

alone, 'without which, being so moderate a Quantity, I daresay my wife,

nor indeed should I myself be satisfied.' This £350 he calmly proposes

to deduct from his wife's fortune, reducing it, therefore, to £1650.

This £1650, placed out at 5 per cent. interest, will bring in an income

of £82, but the cautious bachelor says 5 per cent. is not likely to

continue, therefore he will reckon interest at 4 per cent. only, and at

this rate the wife's fortune will produce an income of only £56. He then

proceeds to show that, adding together the foregoing items, he will have

to spend on his wife £215, or even £231, 10s., 'above the Income of the

Fortune she brings, besides the Hazard and want of certainty for the

Money, which ought to be considered.'

And now the pamphlet draws to an end, with a conclusion we will give in

the writer's own words:

'These Things considered (and he that marries without previous

Consideration acts very indiscreetly), I do not see how I can marry

a Woman with the Fortune you propose, or that I should better

myself at all by it, and in Prudence, People should do so or let it

alone; (not that I propose or think to have more) I must therefore

live single, though with some regret that I cannot do otherwise,

and increase my own Fortune, which happens to be sufficient for my

own Maintenance till (if I may so call it) I can afford Matrimony.

'I wish the Lady all Happiness and a better Husband, and if it be

for her Satisfaction, one who has thought less of the Matter; not

but that I have a very good Opinion of Matrimony, and think of it

with Pleasure, as hoping one time or other to enter into its Lists,

but I now wait with Patience till my Circumstances or Thought vary.

One Thing I would not have you mistaken in, is, that I do not mean,

that your Relation will be thus expensive to me, more than any

other, only that whenever I marry, let her be who she will, I must

necessarily (if She has no more Fortune than you propose) expend

considerably more than 200_l._ a year on her, above the Income of

her Fortune, and at present I cannot persuade myself to be at so

great an Expense, for the value of trying a dangerous Experiment,

whether the Pleasures of Matrimony are yearly worth that Sum.'

And all this is submitted to the proposer by his 'Obliged and Humble

Servant.'

The whole question of marriage, with its arguments for and against,

seems to have been as engrossing a topic amongst English men and women

in the early part of the eighteenth century as it certainly is with us

now, and the bachelor's pamphlet brought forward at least two replies,

which we found bound up with the original. One of these, purporting to

be by the lady herself, and signed 'Philogamia,' may be dismissed in a

few words; its arguments are neither serious nor to the point, and such

wit as there is is of a low order, and too much in the _tu quoque_ style

to be amusing. The second rejoinder is by the 'Woman's Advocate,' and is

probably not, as it pretends, written by a man on behalf of women in

general, but rather by an irritated member of the weaker sex, who finds

herself and her fellows insulted _en masse_ by the bachelor's refusal to

marry one of them.

The 'Advocate' takes the various items of the 'Batchelor's Estimate' one

by one, and proceeds to demolish them to the best of her ability,

sometimes with a certain degree of success, due, we fancy, to the more

intimate knowledge of housekeeping details naturally possessed by a

woman. She at once attacks him on the subject of house-rent, and with

truly feminine malice reminds him how she has often heard him praise a

friend's house rented at £24, and declare that he 'could wish for

nothing better.' This rather reminds us of a young lady who advocated

the claims of a somewhat uninteresting young man by saying he would make

'such a delightful brother-in-law.'

Has not our sex, too, been accused, with some degree of justice, of

practising little meannesses, and does not the 'Woman's Advocate's'

confession that she 'has lived 10 years in one Parish and never paid a

penny to the Church' smack slightly of this feminine vice?

She goes on to say: 'To the Rector you will give 6_d._ as an Easter

offering--to the Lecturer what you please. Trophy-money is but 6_d._ per

annum. You need not join the Militia. Lamp, Scavenger, and Watch seldom

amount to thirty shillings, and as for the Constable's Tax, I never

heard of such a thing in my Life.' So the £9 is reduced to £2.

On the estimate for servants, especially for the footman in livery, the

'Woman's Advocate' pours great scorn. 'A man in livery forsooth! Have

the two maids so little to do that you must e'en employ a man to play

with 'em?'

But it is perhaps in her attack on the actual house-keeping estimates

that the 'Woman's Advocate' is at her best. She does not always assign

her reasons, but boldly makes such statements as the following: 'Your

Butcher's Bill is over-rated at least one Third. Your Poulterer's and

Fishmonger's more than two Thirds. As for the Herb-Woman you have

overtopt her with a Vengeance; Twelve pence a week is more than enough

for greens etc., _and besides_' (does not this bear some resemblance to

the traditional postscript?) '_half the year but few sorts are in

Season_.' There is more banter about greenstuff and salads, during which

the bachelor is taunted with being 'a meer Frenchman to eat seven Pounds

per annum in Salads,' and with 'outdoing the Italians in oiling it,' and

is, moreover, advised to buy his oil direct from the ship instead of

from the tavern, thereby effecting a saving of 10s. per quart!--a hint

we should imagine well worth carrying out.

Words fail the 'Advocate' in which to pour sufficient contempt on the

estimates for grocer and confectioner: 'If you are sweet-Tooth'd,' she

says, 'I will allow you now and then a Pennyworth of Sugar-Plumbs, but

think 40_s._ per annum in that kind of Trash too much for a Person of

your Years and Frugality; and I could really wish, for your own Sake,

you had omitted that Article in your Estimate.'

The mention of the doctor's and apothecary's fees, which he 'least

desired,' gives the 'Advocate' a final opportunity for crushing her

victim, and will serve as a very fair example of her style of rejoinder

throughout the whole answer when she is not dealing with concrete

materials: 'I believe you wish for no one Article of Expence; could you

have a Wife that would wear no Cloathes, eat no Victuals, bear no

Children, never be sick, and bring you 2 or 3,000_l._, the more the

better, I suppose your self-conceited Worship would marry, who imagine,

no doubt, you merit a Fortune of 50, nay, 100,000_l._ To conclude I

pronounce Bachelors the Vermin of a State. They enjoy the Benefits of

Society but contribute not to its charge, and sponge upon the Publick,

without making the least return. Had I any Power in the Legislature, you

should not only be punished for Mischievous Libel, but all Batchelors

above the age of Thirty should be double Tax'd.'

Old Picture Books, With Other Essays on Bookish Subjects · 第 30 / 32 题