CHAPTER VII.

DOMESTIC LIFE AND THE TAX-GATHERER--THE DOCTOR AND THE BODY-SNATCHER.

By the fireside, in health and disease, and in the separations and

contingencies of family life, we must look for the drawbacks which our

great-grandfathers had to put up with during that remarkable period

which closed and opened the two centuries, when great changes ever

seemed on the eve of being born, yet ever eluded the grasp of the

reformer. What a sluggish, silent, nerveless world, it must have been

as we now think! On the other side of the cloud, which shut out the

future, were most of the contributories to the noisy current of our

modern life--from express trains and steam hammers to lucifer matches

and tram cars! Steel pens, photographs, postage stamps, and even

envelopes, umbrellas, telegrams, pianofortes, ready-made clothes,

public opinion, gas lamps, vaccination, and a host of other things

which now form a part of our daily life, were all unknown or belonged

to the future. But there were a few other things which found a place

in the home which are not often met with now--the weather-house (man

for foul weather and woman for fine)--bellows, child's pole from

ceiling to floor with swing, candlestick stands, chimney pot-hook,

spinning wheel, bottle of leeches, flint gun, pillow and bobbins for

lace, rush-lights, leather breeches, and a host of other things now

nearly obsolete. In the better class houses there was a grandfather's

clock, and possibly a "windmill" clock, but in many villages if you

could not fix the time by the sun "you might have to run half over the

village to find a clock."

One of the primal fountains of our grandfathers' domestic comforts was

the tinder-box and flint and steel. Without this he could neither have

basked in the warmth of the Yule-log nor satisfied the baby in {74} the

night time. But even this was not sufficient without matches, and, as

Bryant and May had not been heard of, this article was made on the

spot. In Royston, as in other places, matches were made and sold from

door to door by the paupers from the Workhouse, by pedlars driving dog

carts, or by gipsies, and the trade of match-makers obtained the

dignified title of "Carvers and Gilders." At by-ways where a tramp, a

pedlar, or a pauper, did not reach, paterfamilias, or materfamilias,

became "carver and gilder" to the household, and made their own

matches. In one case I find the Royston Parish Authorities setting up

one of the paupers with a supply of wood "to make skewers and matches

to sell."

[Illustration: TINDER-BOX, FLINT, STEEL, AND MATCHES.]

The tinder-box, like other household requisites in all ages, was

sometimes very homely, sometimes of "superior" make. The above

illustration is of one rather out of the common, and the artist has

brought the different parts together rather than showing the process,

for the lid would have to be removed before the tinder beneath could be

fired. The most common form of tinder-box was an oblong wooden box, of

two compartments, one for the tinder and the other for flint and {75}

steel. At Elbrook House, Ashwell, is one, in the possession of Edward

Snow Fordham, Esq., said to be two hundred years old. The process of

getting a light by means of the tinder-box involved a little manual

dexterity and mental philosophy--if the fugitive spark from the

striking of the flint and steel set alight to the tinder, well; you

then had simply to light your clumsy sulphur-tipped skewer-like

"match," and there you were! If the tinder happened to be damp, as it

sometimes was, and the spark wouldn't lay hold, you were not one bit

nearer quieting the baby, or meeting whatever might be the demand for a

light in the night time, than was an ancient Briton ages ago! When the

modern match was first introduced as the "Congreve" the cost was 2s.

6d. for fifty, or about 1/2d. each, and when, a few years later, the

lucifer match was introduced, they were sold at four a penny! Now you

can get more than four well-filled boxes for a penny!

In the first quarter of the century the supply of fuel was very

different from now. By slow and difficult means did coal arrive.

Cambridge was the nearest centre for this district, and thence the coal

used in Royston was obtained. Tedious and troublesome was the process

of dragging it along bad roads, and between Cambridge and Royston this

made a difference of about 7s. per ton in the price. Farm labourers,

when agreeing for their harvest month, generally obtained, either by

bargain or by custom, the right of the use of one of their master's

horses and carts after harvest for a day to fetch coals from Cambridge.

Another concession made by the farmer to the men was that each man was

allowed after harvest a load of "haulm," or wheat stubble, left in the

field from reaping time. This "haulm" was useful not only for lighting

fires with, but, like the bean stubs, for heating those capacious brick

ovens in the old chimney corners, in which most of the cottagers then

baked their own bread. Sometimes the stage wagoners brought a "mixed"

cargo, and put coals into their wagons to fill up, and undersold the

dealers (at less than 13d. a bushel), and the practice was complained

of at Cambridge, more especially respecting Royston and Buntingford

districts.

It may seem strange now to speak of persons, even at a hospitable

board, having taken too much salt, carefully replacing some of it, upon

economical grounds; but, considering that there was then a duty of a

guinea a bushel upon this necessary article, it is not surprising. Our

grandfathers paid about 6d. a pound for their salt; the commonest

calico was 10d. a yard, and printed calicoes 2s. 2d. per yard. In 1793

the average price of sugar, wholesale, was 66s. 7 1/2d. per cwt.,

exclusive of duty. Between 1810 and the Battle of Waterloo were many

times of scarcity, with wheat varying from 100s. to 126s. a quarter,

and some in Royston market reached 20s. a bushel. As to clothing,

there were very few ready-made clothes, and the village tailor was a

man of importance {76} when leather breeches and smock frocks were in

general demand. A smock frock, washed till it was quite white, was as

common a sight then as was the scarlet cloak worn by our

great-grandmothers, but both these familiar sights have disappeared as

completely as the yellow leather top boots, to be seen on Sundays up

till fifty years ago in the Churchyards of rural England.

[Illustration: A LADY OF THE PERIOD.]

The vagaries of fashion at the beginning of the century were of almost

inconceivable variety and extravagance; not only the ladies, but

dandies of the opposite sex wore stays for the improvement of the

figure, and curled their hair with curling irons! Though wigs had

almost gone out of fashion, hair powder had not. In a former sketch a

figure of a lady in the earlier years of the reign of George III. was

given. The above is another specimen of head gear at a later period of

the same reign.

{77}

Trades necessarily followed fashions, and, when snuff-taking was almost

universal, the manufacture of gold, silver, and baser metal

snuff-boxes, was a thriving trade. A hair dresser's shop up to the end

of last century was also different in appearance from one to-day, and

was furnished with perukes, or wigs for all sorts of heads. At Upwell,

in the Fen, in 1791, a wig caught fire in such a shop and "before the

fire could be put out thirty-six wigs were destroyed."

Luxuries were much more limited than now, and many things then regarded

as such have since got placed in a different category. At the end of

the last century a pianoforte had not figured in any Royston household,

but it came at the beginning of this century when Lady Wortham as she

was always styled--as the daughter of Sir Thomas Hatton, Bart., and

wife of Hale Wortham, Esq.--became the owner of the first piano at

their house in Melbourn Street (now Mr. J. E. Phillips').

Newspapers were among the luxuries of the household, and their

circulation was of a very limited character. When, for a town of the

size of Royston, two or three copies did arrive by a London coach the

subscribers were generally the principal innkeepers--the Red Lion, the

Crown, and the Bull--and to these inns tradesmen and the leading

inhabitants were wont to repair. The only alternative of getting a

sight of the paper was that they could, on ordinary occasions, have it

away with them at their own homes upon paying a penny an hour for its

use. On special occasions when any great foreign event became

known--for papers contained but little home news--the competition for

the paper was an exciting event, the above arrangement was hardly

elastic enough to meet requirements, and crowds gathered about in the

inn yards on the arrival of a coach to learn some momentous piece of

intelligence with more or less accuracy from post-boys and others, who

in their turn had heard it from somebody else whose friend had been

able to communicate it with the authority of having actually "seen it

in the paper." The essence of the news required was generally victory

or defeat in battle, or trials at Assizes, and could soon be told. The

supply of papers was limited pretty much to the _Times_ and _Morning

Chronicle_ from London, while the _Cambridge Chronicle_ was then the

principal local newspaper.

As the Chancellor of the Exchequer derived a revenue from the stamp

required for each newspaper (as well as upon advertisements) the

lending of a newspaper was looked upon in the light of smuggling, and

an Act was passed providing that "any person who lends out a newspaper

for hire is subject to a penalty of L10 for every offence." But I fear

that with even this terrible inducement to buy your own paper, and the

natural zeal for the spread of knowledge of a man like Henry Andrews,

the astronomer, as agent for the sale of newspapers in our {78} town,

very few copies were actually bought, and that most of the "news" which

could not be obtained from the coaches was obtained by the Royston

tradesmen in that illicit manner of lending and hiring, though

forbidden by law!

Work and wages, closely connected with the condition of home life, did

not present a very cheerful picture. The labourer, and all engaged in

husbandry, had much longer hours than now. An old writer on husbandry

says, "the dairymaid should always be up in the morning between three

or four o'clock." The young fellows living "in service" on the farm

had never done till it was time to go to bed, and, having but very

little if any money to spend and nowhere to go, a short interval for

supper by the kitchen fire was about the only recreation they enjoyed

to vary their lot.

It was a time when there was little room for squeamishness as to the

conditions under which men laboured--when little boys, instead of

brooms, were sent up ill-constructed chimneys, with no sense of remorse

from their employers, who in their turn had probably commenced business

by going up themselves and saw no reason against the practice. At a

later date, however, there was a great stir made about this practice,

which led to its coming before a Committee of the House of Lords. One

of the Payment family--who then, as now, carried on the business of

chimney sweeps in Royston and its neighbourhood--was called as a

witness to give evidence before the Committee of the House of Lords. I

am credibly informed that the member of the Royston firm was at first

rather alarmed at the prospect, thinking no doubt that he was about to

be called to account as a "climbing boy," but when he found what was

the nature of his errand, that his evidence was considered of so much

value by the House of Lords, and that it meant a few days' holiday in

the great city provided for him free of expense, the incident was one

to be remembered with pride. A few courageous spirits set to work

raising subscriptions to provide "machines," as now used, instead of

"climbing boys," but, incredible as it may seem, met with a good deal

of opposition at first, both from householders and master sweeps.

Among those who took up the question was Mr. Henry Fordham, then a

young man at Hertford.

Let me conclude this reference to sweeps with a story from this

district, vouched for by the old newspapers at the time, viz., that in

one of the villages in the district was a chimney sweep who had sixteen

sons all following the same occupation!

Among outside agencies which broke in upon the old domestic life of the

period none was more potent or omnipresent than the tax-gatherer. You

could not be born, married, or buried, without the consent of the

Chancellor of the Exchequer, so to speak; for there was at the end of

the last century a 3d. tax upon births, marriages, and burials, and it

{79} appears that the clergy were allowed a commission of 2s. in the L,

for the collection of the tax. Among the objections to it was that the

poor man could not sometimes pay it without borrowing the money, and

yet was made equal with the rich in regard to the amount. Even

occupiers of cottages had to pay the window tax, unless exempt by the

receipt of parish relief, but, by many thoughtful men of the time, its

application to agricultural labourers was looked upon with disfavour.

About the end of the last century there was hardly anything that a man

could see, taste, handle, or use, that was not taxed--windows, candles,

tobacco pipes, almanacs, soap, newspapers, hats, bricks, domestic

servants, watches, clocks, hair powder, besides nearly every article of

food! All these in turn came under the hands of the Chancellor of the

Exchequer, till, as Sydney Smith said, "the school-boy had to whip a

taxed top, the youth drove a taxed horse with taxed bridle along a

taxed road; the old man poured medicine, which had paid 7 per cent.,

into a spoon that had paid 15; fell back upon a chintz bed which had

paid 22 per cent., and expired in the arms of an apothecary who had

paid a licence of L100 for the privilege of putting him to death; and

immediately his property paid 2 to 10 per cent., and his virtues were

handed down to posterity on taxed marble."

The extravagant vagaries in the fashions of dressing the hair formed a

tempting point for the Chancellor of the Exchequer to come down upon,

and the tax in the form of "hair-powder certificates," at the rate of a

guinea a head, occasioned perhaps more commotion in fashionable circles

than any other tax. It was a profitable source of revenue owing to the

great use of hair-powder, and at the same time its disuse would mean a

gain in the supply of flour, of which it was largely made, for

consumption. Short hair, or "crops," soon came into fashion as a means

of evading the tax and "dishing" the Chancellor of the Exchequer, a

re-action which was responsible for the following parody of _Hamlet_:--

To crop, or not to crop, that is the question:--

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer

The plague of powder and loquacious barbers;

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And, by the scissors, end them?

From the old Royston Book Club debates of last century it will be

remembered that I quoted the result of a vote upon--which of the three

professions, of divinity, law and physic, was most beneficial to

mankind, and that the doctors could only get one vote, against a

respectable number for law and divinity. I ventured to suggest that

the bleeding, blistering and purging at certain seasons was probably

responsible for {80} the low estimate of the medical profession, and of

this may be given the following example--

In 1799, the parish doctor's bill for the Therfield paupers contained

twelve items for "blisters," eight for bleeding (at 6d. each!), and in

another, eight for "leeches."

There was a much more detailed account given in the old doctors' bills

of a century ago than in the curt missives which are now usually

limited to the "professional attendance" with which the old bills

began, and the "total" with which they finished; "bleeding, blistering,

leeches, vomits, julep, boluses," &c., were all duly accounted for.

The following is a _bonâ fide_ doctor's bill of 1788, delivered to and

paid by a resident in one of the villages of this district:--

s. d.

Bleeding----Daughter . . . . . . . 1 0

A febrifuge Mixture . . . . . . . 2 4

Bleeding----Self . . . . . . . . . 1 0

A Cordial Mixture . . . . . . . . 2 4

A Diuretic Tincture . . . . . . . 1 6

Two Opening Draughts . . . . . . . 2 0

The Mixture repd . . . . . . . . . 2 4

Bleeding----Daughter . . . . . . . 1 0

Two Opening Draughts . . . . . . . 2 0

--------

L0 15 6

The item "Bleeding----self" is a trifle ambiguous, but probably it was

the parent and not the doctor upon whom the operation was performed!

Inoculation has already been referred to, but I may here state that the

first account I have seen of professional inoculation for the smallpox

in Royston is the announcement in the year 1773 of--"George Hatton,

surgeon, apothecary and man-mid-wife in Royston, who, with the advice

of his friends and the many patients whom he has inoculated, begs leave

to acquaint the public that he will wait upon any person or family

within 6 or 7 miles from Royston, and inoculate them for half-a-guinea

each person, medicines and attendances included, and, that the poor may

have the benefit of his practice, a proper allowance will be made them

and diligent attendance given."

Bills of the same period show that the charge for this species of

inoculation "when a quantity was taken," as in the parish bills, was

2s. or 2s. 6d. each person. The advantage claimed for spreading the

disease of small-pox out of the rates by means of inoculation was that

if you had it as the result of inoculation only one person in 300 died,

but if you had small-pox by infection, eight out of every hundred died.

It may be of interest to add as a general fact upon health and

diseases, that in 1792, out of 20,000 burials the following were the

proportions of deaths from the leading diseases:--Consumption 5,255,

convulsions {81} 4,646, dropsy 3,018, fevers 2,203, small-pox 1,568,

measles 450, "teeth" 419. The deaths under two years of age were

6,542, or one-third of the whole! The classification was not so exact

in those days as it would be now, but the race has improved a little in

regard to infantile mortality and consumption.

In coupling the doctor and the body-snatcher, at the head of this

chapter, I did not really mean to convey more than the general

association of human experience in the periods of sickness and the

close of life. If there was a closer association of these two

characters in the later Georgian era, it is, at least, a satisfaction

to be able to write of such things entirely in the past tense. At a

time when even to maintain the decencies and comforts of domestic life

was often a struggle with untoward surroundings, it may seem to show a

desire to load the past times with more than their share of trials and

misfortunes, to suggest that the most painful of all experiences of the

times was reserved for the end of life; that the ordeal of the

separation from friends by death was embittered, and intensified,

beyond anything in more modern experience, yet it is certain that the

revolting business of the "body-snatcher" did, for some years, between

1815 and 1830, brood over many a village in this district like a cruel

night-mare!

The reception of bodies, or "subjects," from country or town burying

grounds for the dissecting rooms of London and other hospitals, became

almost a trade, not altogether beyond the commercial principle of

supply and demand. Generally about two guineas was the price, and

students would club together their five shillings each for a "subject."

In the face of such facts it would be idle to suggest that the

tradition of that mysterious cart, moving silently through the darkness

of night on muffled wheels towards our village churchyards, was merely

a creature of the imagination. The tradition of that phantom cart

which lingered for years had a substantial origin as certain as the

memory of many persons still living can make it! In many of the

villages around Royston, as indeed in other districts, the terror of it

became such that not a burial took place in the parish graveyards, but

the grave had to be watched night after night till the state of the

corpse was supposed to make it unlikely that it would then be

disturbed! The watch was generally kept by two or three men taking it

in turns, generally sitting in the church porch, through the silent

hours of the night armed with a gun! The well-to-do were able to

secure this protection by paying for it, but many a poor family had to

trust to the human sympathy and help of neighbours. Under a stress of

this kind probably some brave Antigone watched over the remains of a

dead brother, and certainly it was not uncommon for husband and wife to

face the ordeal of sitting out the night till the grey light of

morning, in some lone church porch, or the vestry of some small

meeting-house--watching lest the robbers of {82} the dead should come

for a lost son or daughter! Over the grave of some poor widow's son,

or of that of a fellow workman, volunteers were generally forthcoming

to perform this painful office.

Though the law was seldom invoked, there must have been numberless

cases in which bodies were stolen, cases in which the modest mound of

earth placed over the dead had mysteriously dropped in, and the

outraged parents or relatives, not unnaturally perhaps, turned with

bitter revengeful thoughts to the London and other hospitals of that

day--whether justly or unjustly God knows! Around the parish

churchyards of Bassingbourn, Melbourn, and especially Therfield and

Kelshall, the memory of unpleasant associations lingered for many years

after the supposed transactions had passed away; nor was it merely an

experience peculiar to isolated village churchyards. On the contrary

it was customary, even in the Royston church-yard, surrounded as it is

and was then by houses--with the Vicarage house then actually in the

church-yard, in fact--it was customary for relatives to sit in the

Church porch at night and watch the graves of departed friends!

Of actual occurrences of robbing the graves there is the story of a

woman living in one of the villages on the hills not far from Royston,

when on her way home, accepting a ride with a neighbour, only to find

to her horror that the driver had a dead body in his cart! As to the

allegations that stolen bodies did find their way to hospitals for

dissecting purposes, there is a well authenticated story of a case in

which a Roystonian was recognised in the dissecting room of a London

hospital! A doctor, whose name would, I daresay, be remembered by some

if mentioned, and who was in the habit of visiting a family in Royston,

and knew many Royston people, upon entering the dissecting room of one

of the London hospitals, at once recognised a "subject" about to be

operated upon, as a person he had frequently seen in Royston, a

peculiar deformity leaving no possible doubt as to her identity!

Excepting when the natural dread of it came home to bereaved families,

there was no very strong public opinion on the subject; the law, which

came down with a fell swoop upon many classes of small offenders, was

too big an affair for dealing with questions of sentiment, and as there

were no little laws of local application readily available, the

practice was too often connived at where examples might have been made.

In some things our grandfathers may have had the advantage over this

hurrying age, but the reverent regard for the dead, and the outward

aspect of their resting place, is assuredly not one of them.

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Fragments of Two Centuries: Glimpses of Country Life when George III. was King · 第 7 / 17 章