Benjamin Thompson, better known by the name of Count Rumford, which he
afterwards acquired, was born at Woburn in Massachusetts on the 26th
of March 1753. His ancestors appear to have been among the earliest of
the colonists of Massachusetts, and in all probability came originally
from England. They seem to have held a respectable rank among their
neighbors, and to have been for one or two generations moderately
wealthy.
Ebenezer Thompson, the grandfather of Count Rumford, held a captain’s
commission in the militia of the province, and was therefore a man of
some repute in the place where he resided. Count Rumford’s father,
whose name was also Benjamin, dying while his son was a mere infant,
the mother and child continued in the grandfather’s house, which had
been their home even while the husband was alive. In October 1755,
however, the old man died, leaving a small provision for his grandson,
barely sufficient, it would appear, to maintain him till he should
arrive at an age to be able to do something for himself. In the
following year Mrs. Thompson, whose maiden name was Ruth Limonds,
married a second husband, Josiah Pierce, also a resident in Woburn;
and the boy accompanied his mother to the house of his stepfather, who
stipulated, however, that he should receive the weekly sum of two
shillings and fivepence for the child’s maintenance till he attained
his eighth year. His grandfather’s little legacy seems to have
furnished the means of meeting this demand.
As soon as young Thompson was able to learn his letters, he was sent
to the school of his native town, taught by a Mr. John Fowle, who is
said to have been ‘a gentleman of liberal education, and an excellent
teacher;’ and here in company with all the children of the place, he
was taught reading, writing, arithmetic, and a little Latin, having
the reputation, it is said, of being a quick boy. At the age of eleven
he left the school of Woburn, and joined one taught by a Mr. Hill at
Medford, under whose care he made greater advances in mathematics than
he had attempted under Mr. Fowle. The only circumstances from which we
can form an idea of the progress he made, is the statement that his
knowledge of mathematics and astronomy was sufficient to enable him to
calculate eclipses.
At thirteen years of age Thompson was bound apprentice to Mr. John
Appleby, a respectable merchant in Salem, the second town in point of
size in Massachusetts, although at that time it must have been little
more than a village. His occupations with Mr. Appleby were principally
those of a clerk in the counting-house; and he appears to have had
sufficient leisure, while attending to his duties, to extend his
reading and his acquaintance with scientific subjects. At this time
also he began to exibit a taste for designing and engraving, as well
as for mechanical invention. Among other contrivances upon which he
exercised his ingenuity, was one for solving the famous problem of the
Perpetual Motion; a chimera upon which young men of a turn of mind
similar to his often try their untaught powers. One evening, we are
informed, the young speculator was so sure that he had at length found
out the Perpetual Motion, that he set out with the secret in his head
to Woburn, intending to communicate it to a friend and old
schoolfellow, Loammi Baldwin, in whose knowledge in such matters he
placed great confidence. Loammi spent the night discussing the project
with him, and so sensibly, that we are told young Thompson became
convinced of the mechanical impossibility of his or any other
Perpetual Motion, and returned to his counting-house in Salem next
morning, resolved to attempt something less magnificent and more
practicable.
About this time the differences between the mother country and the
American colonies were beginning to assume a serious aspect. The
imposition of the famous stamp tax in 1765 had excited great
indignation among the colonists, and its repeal in the following year
was celebrated with proportionate rejoicings. At Salem, where the
commercial interest predominated, it was determined that there should
be a great display of fireworks on the occasion; and as the town did
not possess a professional pyrotechnist, Mr. Appleby’s clerk contrived
to get his services in that capacity accepted. Unluckily, while
preparing some detonating mixture, he handled the pestle so as to
cause an explosion, by which he was so severely burnt that his life
was despaired of. At length he was able to remove from his mother’s
house at Woburn, to which he had been carried after the accident, and
resume his employment at Salem. The renewed attempts of the mother
country, however, to impose taxes on the colonies, followed as they
were by the resolution of the merchants in the colonies not to import
any of the products of the mother country, produced such a stagnation
of trade in Salem, as at other towns, that Mr. Appleby, having no
occasion for the further services of a clerk, was glad to give young
Thompson up his indentures, and allow him to return to Woburn.
This happened apparently in 1767 or 1768; and for a year or two
afterwards, Thompson’s course of life seems to have been wavering and
undecided. In the winter of 1769 he taught a school at Wilmington; and
some time in the same year he seems to have thoughts of pursuing the
medical profession, for which purpose he placed himself under Dr. Hay,
a physician in Woburn, and entered zealously upon the study of anatomy
and physiology. While with Dr. Hay, he is said to have exhibited
greater fondness for the mechanical than for other parts of the
profession, and to have amused himself by making surgical instruments.
How long Thompson pursued his medical studies is uncertain; in 1770,
however, we find him resuming his mercantile avocations, in the
capacity of a clerk in a dry-goods store at Boston, kept by a Mr.
Capen. He was in Boston during the famous riots which took place on
the attempt to land a cargo of tea from a British vessel contrary to
the resolution of the colonists against admitting British goods. Mr.
Capen’s business seems to have declined in the critical circumstances
of the colony, as Mr. Appleby’s had formerly done; and Thompson was
again obliged to return to Woburn. During the summer of 1770, he
attended, in company with his friend Baldwin, a course of lectures on
experimental philosophy delivered in Harvard College; and at no time
of his life does he seem to have been so busily intent upon the
acquisition of knowledge. Besides attending the lectures of the
professor, he instituted experiments of his own of various kinds, some
of which were the germs of valuable conclusions which he published in
after-life. In particular, we may mention a course of experiments
which he began for ascertaining and measuring the projectile force of
gunpowder.
Thompson, though still only in his seventeenth year, had acquired that
degree and kind of reputation which it is usual for youths of his
stamp to obtain among intelligent acquaintances; and late in 1770, he
was invited by Colonel Timothy Walker, one of the most important
residents in the thriving village of Rumford, now Concord, in New
Hampshire, to take charge of an academy in that place. Accepting the
invitation, Thompson, says his American biographer, Dr. Renwick,
‘found himself caressed and welcomed by a society not wanting in
refinement or pretensions to fashion. His grace and personal
advantages, which afterwards gained him access to the proudest circles
of Europe, were already developed. His stature of nearly six feet, his
erect figure, his finely-formed limbs, his bright blue eyes, his
features chiseled in the Roman mould, and his dark auburn hair,
rendered him a model of manly beauty. He acquired an address in the
highest degree prepossessing; and at the counter of the Boston
retailer, had learnt, from its fashionable customers, the polish of
manner and dialect which obliterates all peculiarities that are
provincial, and many of those that are national. He possessed solid
acquirements far beyond the standard of the day, and had attained
already the last and highest requisite for society――that of conversing
with ease, and in a pure language, upon all the subjects with a
knowledge of which his mind was stored. In addition, he possessed the
most fascinating of all accomplishments, for he had a fine voice; and
although far from a proficient in music as a science, sang with taste,
and performed on several instruments.’ With such advantages the young
schoolmaster appears to have made an impression on not a few female
hearts in the country village where he shone; on none, however, so
decidedly as on that of Mrs. Rolfe, a colonel’s widow, possessed of
what was then considered a large fortune, and although considerably
older than himself, still young and handsome enough, according to his
biographer, ‘to render it probable that a feeling more creditable than
one arising from interested motives led him to seek her hand.’ However
this may be, the affair was soon brought to a happy conclusion. On
giving out his vacation for the year 1772, the young schoolmaster
stepped into the widow’s carriage and then drove together to Boston,
where he fitted himself with a dress in the extreme of fashion of the
day, scarlet being then a favorite color. Clad anew from top to toe,
he reëntered the equipage, which whirled away towards Woburn. The
astonishment of the villagers at seeing their young townsman in such a
guise, and in such company, was past description. ‘Why, Ben, my
child,’ said his mother, gazing at his splendid outfit as he
dismounted at the door, ‘how could you spend your whole winter’s
earnings in this way?’ In the presence of his fair companion the youth
could hardly explain, and he was obliged to employ a friend to break
the subject of his intended marriage to his mother. No objections were
offered on her part, although she took twenty-four hours to deliberate
on the matter; and the happy pair drove back to Rumford, where the
wedding was forthwith celebrated, the bridegroom being then in his
twentieth year.
After his marriage, Thompson took his place as one of the wealthiest
inhabitants of the district in which he resided, and mixed in the best
society which the colony afforded. It was not long before he made the
acquaintance of his Excellency John Wentworth, the governor of the
colony, who, anxious, no doubt, in the critical circumstances in which
the American dependencies of Great Britain were then placed, to attach
to the party which sided with the mother country as many influential
colonists as he was able, lost no time in endeavoring to gain over so
promising a man as Thompson. A vacancy having occurred in a regiment
of the New Hampshire militia, Governor Wentworth gave the commission,
which was that of major, to his new friend: an act of attention which,
while it seems to have been gratifying to Thompson, did not fail to
procure him much ill-will from the officers already in the service,
over whose heads he had been promoted. From this period Thompson began
to be unpopular in his native province. He was represented as a friend
of Great Britain, and an enemy to the interests of the colonies; and
this charge was the more readily believed, on account of the marked
kindness with which he continued to be treated by the governor, and
the indifference which he exhibited to those political questions which
were agitating all around him. The truth seems to be, that not only
was Thompson, as a man in comfortable circumstances, and fond of the
consideration and opportunities of enjoyment which they afforded him,
averse to any disturbance, such as a war between the colonies and the
mother country would cause, but that his constitution and temperament,
his liking for calm intellectual pursuits, disqualified him from
taking part in political agitation. Many men who have distinguished
themselves in literature and science have, as a matter of principle,
kept themselves aloof from the controversies and political dissensions
of their time, alleging that, however important such questions might
be, it was not in discussing them that their powers could be employed
to most advantage. In the case of Thompson, however, who as yet had
not begun to lay claim to the character of a man devoted to scientific
pursuits, his countrymen thought, not altogether unreasonably, that
they had grounds of complaint. What employment was _he_ engaged in,
that he ought to be exempted from the duty of a citizen――that of
taking an interest in public affairs? So, probably, the most candid
and considerate of the American patriots reasoned; and as for the
great mass of the populace, they condemned him in the usual summary
manner in which the public judges. Not a name was more detested in
Massachusetts than that of Benjamin Thompson. He was denounced as a
sycophant of the British――a traitor to the interests of the
colonies――an enemy of liberty. To such a length did the public hatred
of him proceed, that at length, in the month of November 1774, the mob
of Concord had resolved to inflict on him the punishment which several
other unpopular persons had already experienced――that of being tarred
and feathered in the open streets. Receiving intelligence of the
design of the mob before it could be carried into execution, Thompson
had no alternative but to withdraw from Concord to some other part of
the provinces where political excitement did not run so high.
Accordingly, he quitted his wife and an infant daughter, who had been
born in the previous year, and took refuge first in his native town of
Woburn, from which he afterwards removed to Charleston. From
Charleston, after a few months residence, he went to Boston, which was
then garrisoned by a British army commanded by General Gage.
Thompson was well received by General Gage and the officers of the
British army; and his intercourse with them, while it probably gave
him a stronger bias towards the side of the mother country than he had
yet exhibited, did not contribute to remove the bad opinion his
countrymen had formed of his patriotism. Having returned in the spring
of 1775, to his native town of Woburn, where he was joined by his wife
and daughter, he again ran the risk of being tarred and feathered. The
mob surrounded the house where he resided early one morning, armed
with guns and sticks, and but for the interference of his old friend
Loammi Baldwin, who arrived at the spot in time to use his influence
with the crowd, serious consequences might have ensued.
The commencement of open hostilities between the colonists and the
British troops in May 1775, made Thompson’s position still more
critical. As a major in the militia of the province, he would probably
have acted on the side of the patriots, obeying the orders of the
Provincial Congress, which had superseded the old government; but the
odium attached to his name was such, that his very zeal on the
patriotic side would have been misrepresented. In order, therefore, to
clear himself of all suspicion, and that he might thenceforth live on
good terms with his countrymen, he demanded a trial before the
Committee of Correspondence established at Woburn by authority of the
new power. The trial was granted: he was put under arrest; and an
advertisement was inserted in the newspapers for all who had charges
to prefer against his patriotism to come forward. Besides the general
allegation of his being a Tory, and a friend and correspondent of
Governor Wentworth and General Gage, the only charge made against him
on his trial was, that he had been instrumental in sending back to
their colors two British deserters, having procured their pardon from
General Gage during his residence in Boston. This, which ought
properly to have been regarded as a mere act of mercy, was construed
in a less favorable manner by Thompson’s judges; and although, on the
conclusion of his trial, the court declared that he had done nothing
which could legally be considered as a crime, he was set at liberty
without the satisfaction of a full and formal acquittal. Against this
treatment he protested in the strongest manner, insisting that he
should either be punished as guilty, or declared innocent; but his
protests were unheeded.
With a view, apparently, to convince his countrymen of his patriotism
by actual service, or possibly because he could enjoy more quiet in
the army than the ill-will of his fellow-citizens would allow him in
his own house, Thompson, as soon as his trial was over, joined a
detachment of the troops of Congress stationed at Chelsea. ‘In the
hopes of obtaining a commission,’ says his biographer, ‘he paid great
attention to tactics, and assisted at the drills of the yet
undisciplined forces. He also took up the study of fortification,
which he pursued with his usual ardor. Towards the close, however, of
the summer of 1775, his position had become irksome, and even
dangerous. Suspicions, which it seemed impossible to allay, shut
against him all access to military rank in the continental army. He
now could not go from place to place within the lines of the army,
without being pointed at as the famous Tory Thompson; and though
military discipline sheltered him from actual violence, he was exposed
to insults that a man of spirit could not brook, and which his
position prevented him from resenting. If thus treated within the
army, he might infer what awaited him when he should emerge from the
out-posts of the camp.’ In these circumstances, he came to the
desperate resolution of leaving his native country. ‘I cannot any
longer,’ he writes to his father-in-law on the 14th of August 1775,
‘bear the insults that are daily offered to me. I cannot bear to be
looked upon and treated as the Achan of society. I have done nothing
that can deserve this cruel usage. And notwithstanding I have the
tenderest regard for my wife and family, and really believe I have an
equal return of love and affection from them, though I feel the
keenest distress at the thoughts of what Mrs. Thompson and my parents
and friends will suffer on my account, and though I foresee and
realize the distress, poverty, and wretchedness that must attend my
pilgrimage in unknown lands, destitute of fortune, friends, and
acquaintances, yet all these evils appear to me more tolerable than
the treatment which I meet with at the hands of my ungrateful
countrymen.’
Two months after writing the above, he carried his resolution into
effect. Paying off his debts, and converting some of his property into
cash, with the expressed intention of removing to some of the southern
states, where he might live in greater security, he set out from
Cambridge, the headquarters of the American army, on the 10th of
October 1775, accompanied by his half-brother, Josiah Pierce, who took
leave of him at the nearest post-town. ‘From that hour,’ says his
biographer, ‘until the close of the revolutionary struggle, his
friends and relatives were without any positive tidings of his fate.’
From accounts afterwards received, it appeared that he had reached
Newport on the 11th of October, apparently undecided as to his future
movements; that there finding a boat belonging to the British frigate
_Scarborough_, he went on board that vessel, and was afterwards landed
at Boston, which his friend General Gage, as commander of the British
garrison, was at that time maintaining against the American forces.
Here he remained under the protection of the British till the
evacuation of the town in March 1776, when he again embarked on board
the Scarborough, and set sail for England, the bearer of despatches
from General Gage to Lord George Germain, the British secretary of
state for colonial affairs. Thus had he fairly renounced all connexion
with his native country, and gone to push his fortunes in the old
world.
Arriving in England, as he did, the bearer of gloomy despatches, and
sustaining the equivocal character of a deserter from the American
cause, Thompson soon proved that he was a man who could command his
fortune anywhere. The capacity in which he had come over introduced
him to various public men, who could not fail to be struck by his
abilities, as well as charmed by his manner; and the consequence was,
that in a short time after his arrival he was offered a post in the
colonial office. Probably the minister was of opinion that none of all
the American refugees, who then swarmed in London, was able to render
such assistance as Thompson in conducting the department over which he
presided.
Of whatever nature were the services which Thompson rendered to the
public business, they must have been of considerable value; for in
1780, four years after his arrival in England, he was raised by his
patron, Lord Germain, to the post of under-secretary of state for the
colonies; an instance of promotion which, considering the
circumstances in which the subject of it stood, is almost unexampled.
The usual accompaniment of such a situation was, and is, a seat in
parliament; and according to the practice of those days, when noblemen
had seats in the House of Commons at their disposal, Lord Germain, if
he had so chosen, might have conferred a seat on his American protege;
but it was probably imagined that the admission into parliament of a
man so unpopular in America would be attended with disadvantages, and
that, at all events, Thompson’s talents were better fitted for the
desk than the senate. The income and consequence, however, which he
derived from his office, gave him admission to the highest
metropolitan circles; and he had thus opportunities not only of
becoming known, but also of exercising his inventive mind in
many pursuits not immediately connected with his official
duties. Fertility――a disposition to propose improvements in all
departments――seems to have been his most striking characteristic; and
it was probably this ready genius for practical reforms in everything
which came under his notice, that recommended him so much to public
men. A man who, in his general intercourse with society, can drop
valuable suggestions, allowing others to grasp at them, and enjoy the
credit of carrying them into effect, is likely to be a favorite.
Thompson appears to have been such a man――a person who, holding no
ostensible post but that of under-secretary for the colonies, could
yet, out of the richness of an ever-inventive mind, scatter hints
which would be thankfully received by men of all professions.
While concerning himself generally, however, in a variety of matters,
Thompson was at the same time following out certain specific lines of
scientific investigation. ‘As early as 1777,’ says his biographer, ‘he
made some curious and interesting experiments on the strength of solid
bodies. These were never published, and would probably have been
superseded by more full investigations made by subsequent experiments.
In 1778, he employed himself in experiments on the strength of
gunpowder, and the velocity of military projectiles, and these were
followed by a cruise of some months in the channel fleet, where he
proposed to repeat his investigations on a larger scale.’ On this
subject Thompson communicated several papers to the ‘Philosophical
Transactions’ of the Royal Society, of which he had become a member.
Passing over these scientific lucubrations, we hasten to reach that
period of Rumford’s life at which he found himself in a situation to
give full scope to his genius for improvements.
As the war between great Britain and the colonies proceeded, it became
evident that the latter must triumph. The anti-American party in Great
Britain lost ground; and on the news of the capitulation of Lord
Cornwallis reaching England, a division took place in the cabinet, and
Lord George Germain found it necessary to resign office. As his
policy, however, in American affairs, had been agreeable to the wishes
of George III, he retired with the honors of a peerage, and was able
still to forward the interests of his friends. Not the least
distinguished of these was Under-Secretary Thompson, who, whether he
had cooperated with his principal in all his measures and views, or
whether, ‘according to his own statement afterwards to Cuvier, he was
disgusted at Lord Germain’s want of judgment,’ had at least done a
sufficient amount of work to deserve a parting token of regard.
Accordingly, by the influence of the fallen minister, Thompson was
sent out to New York, in the year 1781, with the royal commission of
major, which was afterwards changed for that of lieutenant-colonel,
charged with the task of organizing an efficient regiment of dragoons
out of the broken and disjointed native cavalry regiments which had
been fighting on the royalist side. What were to be the specific uses
of this force are now uncertain. The regiment, fortunately, was of no
avail.
Peace having been concluded between the United States and Great
Britain, Colonel Thompson, shortly after his return obtained leave of
absence in order that he might travel on the continent.
Passing through France on his way to Vienna he had reached Strasburg
on the German frontier, when an incident occurred which changed his
prospects and gave a direction to his life different from what he
intended, or could have anticipated. A review of the garrison of
Strasburg being held, he presented himself on the field as a
spectator, ‘mounted on a superb English horse, and in the full uniform
of his rank as a colonel of dragoons. The French officers were eager
to make the acquaintance of a conspicuous stranger, the more so that
his attendance at a review of French troops in full English uniform
was regarded as an act of courtesy which deserved a return. Among
those who entered into conversation with him was Prince Maximilian,
nephew and presumptive heir of the Elector of Bavaria, and who had
served as the commander of a French regiment in the American war. So
agreeable was the impression which Thompson made on the prince, that
on learning his circumstances and intentions, the later offered him an
introduction to his uncle the Bavarian elector, in case he should be
inclined to alter his design of proceeding to Vienna, and make trial
of the Bavarian service. The proposal pleased Thompson, and, furnished
with the prince’s letter of introduction, he set out for Munich.
Wherever he went he seems to have had the art, almost in spite of
himself, of conciliating favor; and on his very first audience with
the Elector of Bavaria, he was offered an important situation at
court. Still clinging, however, to his resolution to visit Vienna, he
did not accept the offer; but after spending some time at Munich,
during which the elector’s esteem for him increased more and more, he
set out for the Austrian capital. The elector, however, continued to
send him pressing invitations to enter his service; and learning at
Vienna that the Turkish war was likely to be brought to a speedy
conclusion, Colonel Thompson at length promised that, provided he
could obtain the consent of his British majesty, he would take up his
residence at Munich. Proceeding to London, in order to obtain the
consent which was required, he was received with great kindness by
George III, who conferred on him the honor of knighthood, and gave him
permission, while resigning the command of his regiment, to retain the
title of lieutenant-colonel, and the half-pay attached to it.
In the close of the year 1784, Sir Benjamin Thompson took up his
residence in Munich, filling the posts of aid-de-camp and chamberlain
to the elector, thus connected both with the military and civil
service. Charles Theodore, the ruling prince of Bavaria, was a man of
enlightened mind, whose ambition was to elevate the state over which
he reigned to a high rank among the various members of the German
confederacy. The aristocracy of Bavaria itself not furnishing men of
sufficient liberality of view to coöperate with him in his designs of
improvement, and the prejudices of the court preventing him from
employing able men from among the people, even had there been any such
qualified for his purpose, he had judiciously resolved to employ
foreign talent in the difficult work of reforming his dominions. The
capacity, therefore, in which Sir Benjamin Thompson took up his
residence in Munich was that of a man who, unconnected by ties of
blood or interest with the people of Bavaria, and furnished only with
general ideas applicable to all times and places, was to make it his
business, under the auspices of the elector, to take a general survey
of the condition of Bavaria, with a view to rectify as much as
possible of what was wrong in it. A more noble or responsible
situation can scarcely be conceived; and the dignity and
responsibility will appear all the greater, when we reflect that the
government of Bavaria, being, in its nature despotic, the powers of a
man in Thompson’s position――that, namely, of virtual though not
ostensible prime minister――were almost unlimited, seeing that there
were no constitutional forms, and nothing but the absolute will of the
elector, to check or thwart his proceedings.
Another circumstance which rendered the situation of Sir Benjamin
Thompson a peculiarly interesting one, was the position of Bavaria at
the time. ‘Most of those,’ says Cuvier, ‘who are called to power by
adventitious circumstances, are led astray by the opinion of the
vulgar. They know that they will infallibly be called men of genius,
and be celebrated in prose and verse, if they succeed in changing the
forms of government, or in extending the territory of their sovereign
but a few additional leagues.’ Happily for Count Rumford, Bavaria at
this period had no such temptations for her ministers. Her
constitution was fixed by the laws of the empire, and her frontiers
defined by the more powerful states who were her neighbors. She was,
in short, reduced to that condition which most states consider so hard
a one――namely, to have her whole attention confined to the sole object
of ameliorating the fortune of her people. The whole attention of Sir
Benjamin Thompson, therefore, was necessarily to be concentrated on
the internal condition of Bavaria――a country about the size of
Scotland, but considerably more populous.
The first subject which occupied the attention of the American-born
prime minister of Bavaria was the condition of the army. There were
three reasons for this early consideration of the state of the army.
In the first place, the condition of the continent of Europe at the
time rendered the state of the defensive force a matter of extreme
importance to so critically situated a state as Bavaria; in the second
place, Thompson’s own tastes inclined him to take an interest in
military matters; and lastly, in a despotic state, where a little
physical force might be necessary to compel the people to adopt good
sanitary or other regulations, the army was the natural instrument to
be employed in all such reforms, and to render this instrument
efficient was but to begin at the right end.
Omitting all the miscellaneous improvements of a minor or mechanical
nature which were effected by Thompson in matters connected with
military service――as, for instance, in the construction of cannon, in
the uniform of the soldiers, their drill, &c.――let us attend to the
moral principle which ruled all his proceedings with regard to the
organization of the army. ‘I have endeavored,’ he says, ‘in all my
operations, to unite the interest of the soldier with the interest of
civil society, and to render the military force even in time of peace,
subservient to the _public good_. To facilitate and promote these
important objects, to establish a respectable standing army, which
should do the least possible harm to the population, morals,
manufactures, and agriculture of the country, it was necessary to make
soldiers citizens, and citizens soldiers.’ To this principle, or at
least to the precise form in which it is here stated, different
persons will make different objections, according as their sympathies
are civil or military; but Rumford’s general view, that _soldiers
should be treated as men_, cannot be excepted against. The army being
essentially the offspring of an age of physical force, it is certainly
difficult to organize it conformably to the spirit of an age which
repudiates physical force. To do this――in other words, to make the
army, as such, a moral agent――is impossible; but it is quite possible
to render a large general culture, and much individual freedom,
compatible with strict discipline; and at all events, the modern maxim
is, that the army is a part of society, employed, it is true, in
services of a peculiar nature, which require a peculiar organization,
but not on that account cut off from the general mass of the
community. Such was the maxim of the Bavarian minister. Besides what
he did to increase the physical comfort of the soldier by superior
food, clothing and accomodation, he adopted means for the intellectual
and moral improvement of all connected with the military service.
‘Schools were established in all the regiments for instructing the
soldiers and their children in reading, writing, and arithmetic.
Besides these schools of instruction, others, called Schools of
Industry, were established in the regiments, where the soldiers and
their children were taught various kinds of work, and from whence they
were supplied with raw materials to work for their own emolument.
As nothing is so certainly fatal to morals as habitual idleness, every
possible means was adopted that could be devised to introduce a spirit
of industry among the troops. Every encouragement was given to the
soldiers to employ their leisure time when they were off duty in
working for their own emolument; and among other encouragements, the
most efficacious of all, that of allowing them full liberty to dispose
of the money acquired by their labor in any way they should think
proper, without being obliged to give any account of it to anybody.’
Besides working at their various trades for such as chose to employ
them, the soldiers were employed as laborers ‘in all public works,
such as making and repairing highways, draining marshes, repairing the
banks of rivers, &c.; and in all such cases the greatest care was
taken to provide for their comfortable subsistence, and even for their
amusement. To preserve good order and harmony among those who were
detached upon these working parties, a certain proportion of officers
and non-commissioned officers were always sent with them, and these
commonly served as overseers of the works, and as such were paid.’
The particular plan, however, which enabled Thompson, while he was
improving the personal condition of the soldier, and turning the peace
establishment to greater account than before for the general good of
the country, at the same time to diminish greatly the expense of its
support, was that of _permanent garrisons_. The whole army was
distributed through the various cities of the electorate, each city
being garrisoned by troops drawn from the surrounding district. This
plan possessed many advantages. ‘A peasant would more readily consent
to his son engaging himself to serve as a soldier in a regiment
permanently stationed in his neighborhood, than in one at a great
distance, or whose destination was uncertain; and when the station of
a regiment is permanent, and it receives its recruits from the
district of country immediately surrounding its head-quarters, the men
who go home on furlough have but a short journey to make, and are
easily assembled in case of emergency.’ Every encouragement was given
to all who could be spared from garrison duty to go home on furlough;
an arrangement which was both agreeable to the men――who, during their
absence, might be cultivating their little family farms, or otherwise
employing themselves at any trade――and economical for the state,
because, while the men were on furlough, they received no pay, but
only their rations. Thus, while in every garrison town there remained
a sufficient nucleus of men to do garrison-duty, and who, while
receiving full military pay, were at liberty to earn additional money
during their leisure time by extra work, the greater part of the army
were distributed through the community, pursuing the ordinary
occupations of citizens, but ready to assemble at a few hours’ notice,
and bound to be in the field at least six weeks every year. The
assumed necessity for such a state of military preparation gives one a
striking idea of the condition of the continent at this epoch.
Not content with the mere negative achievement of organizing the army,
so that ‘it should do the least possible harm,’ Thompson endeavored to
make it an instrument of positive good. His plan of permanent
garrisons and easy furloughs, by establishing a constant flux of men
to and from a centre, suggested the somewhat novel idea of making the
army the medium for spreading useful improvements of all kinds through
the country. Supposing, for instance, that pains were taken to teach
the soldiers in garrison any useful art not then known in Bavaria, but
which might be naturalized there, it is obvious that when these men
were distributed over the country on furloughs, they would carry with
them not only their own superior industrial habits, but the art
itself. The improvement of Bavarian agriculture by this means was one
of Thompson’s most anxious wishes. Very few of the recent improvements
in that art, he says, such as the cultivation of clover and turnips,
the regular succession of crops, &c., had then found their way into
general practice; and, above all, the potato was almost unknown in
Bavaria. With a view to introduce a better system of agriculture, and
especially with a view to naturalize the potato among the Bavarians,
Thompson devised the system of military gardens――that is, ‘pieces of
ground in or adjoining to the garrison towns, which were regularly
laid out, and exclusively appropriated to the use of the
non-commissioned officers and private soldiers belonging to the
regiments in garrison.’ In these gardens every private soldier was
assigned a piece of ground, about three hundred and sixty-five square
feet in extent. This piece of ground was to remain the sole property
of that soldier as long as he served in the regiment: he was to be at
liberty to cultivate it in any way, and to dispose of the produce in
any way he chose; if, however, he did not choose to work in it, but
wished rather to spend his pay in idleness, he might do so; but in
that case the piece of ground was to be taken from him, and so also if
he neglected it. Every means was used to attach the soldiers to their
garden labor: seeds and manure were furnished them at a cheap rate;
whatever instruction was necessary, was given them; and little huts or
summer-houses were erected in the gardens, to afford them shelter when
it rained. ‘The effect of the plan,’ says Rumford, ‘was greater and
more important than I could have expected. The soldiers, from being
the most indolent of mortals, and from having very little knowledge of
gardening, became industrious and skillful cultivators, and grew so
fond of vegetables, particularly potatoes, that these useful and
wholesome productions began to constitute a very essential part of
their daily food. These improvements began also to spread among the
farmers and peasants throughout the whole country. There was hardly a
soldier that went on furlough that did not carry with him a few
potatoes for planting, and a little collection of garden seeds; and I
have already had the satisfaction to see little gardens here and there
making their appearance in different parts of the country.’
After reforming the army, the next subject which occupied the
attention of the Bavarian statesman was one of universal and perpetual
interest――the condition of the poor. In order, however, not to be
interrupted in our narrative of his measures for the relief of the
poor of Bavaria, we shall note a few of the principal events in his
personal history during the period of his residence in that country.
In 1784, when he commenced his residence in Bavaria, he was thirty-one
years of age. The titles which were then conferred on him were, as we
have already informed our readers, those of aid-de-camp and
chamberlain. Soon afterwards, however, he received the appointments of
member of the council of state, and major-general in the army; the
elector at the same time procuring him the decorations of two orders
of Polish knighthood, in lieu of the Bavarian order, which the rules
of German knighthood prevented him from bestowing. The scientific part
of the community also showed their esteem for him by electing him a
member of the academies of Munich and Manheim. All this took place not
long after Thompson had settled in Munich. Every year of his
subsequent stay brought him fresh honors. In 1787, when on a visit to
Prussia, he was chosen a member of the Academy of Sciences at Berlin;
in Bavaria, to follow the list of dignities given by his American
biographer, ‘he attained the military rank of lieutenant-general, was
commander-in-chief of the general staff, minister of war, and
superintendent of the police of the electorate; he was for a short
time chief of the regency that exercised sovereignty during the
absence of the elector; and in the interval between the death of the
Emperor Joseph and the coronation of his successor Leopold, the
elector becoming vicar of the empire, availed himself of the
prerogatives of that office to make him a Count of the Holy Roman
Empire.’ When this last dignity was conferred on him, Thompson chose
the title of Count of _Rumford_, in memory of the American village
where he had once officiated in the humble capacity of schoolmaster.
Although it was not till the year 1790, that this title was bestowed
on him and the measures we are about to detail were for the most part
matured before that time, we shall consult our convenience by
henceforth calling him Count Rumford.
The condition of the poor, and the mode of treating them, are
questions which every country on earth must incessantly be occupied
with; but in few countries, probably, was the necessity of coming to
some decided practical conclusion on the subject more glaring, more
imperious, than in Bavaria at the time when Count Rumford undertook
the social survey of that state. Beggary had there become an enormous
and apparently ineradicable evil――a weed overgrowing the whole field.
The beggars almost ate up the industrious part of the community. ‘The
number of itinerant beggars of both sexes and all ages, as well
foreigners as natives, who strolled about the country in all
directions, levying contributions upon the industrious inhabitants,
stealing and robbing, and leading a life of indolence and the most
shameless debauchery, was quite incredible; and so numerous were the
swarms of beggars in all the great towns, and particularly in the
capital, so great their impudence, and so perserving their
importunity, that it was almost impossible to cross the streets
without being attacked, and absolutely forced to satisfy their
clamorous demands. They not only infested all the streets, public
walks, and public places, but they even made a practice of going into
private houses; and the churches were so full of them, that people at
their devotions were continually interrupted by them, and were
frequently obliged to satisfy their demands in order to be permitted
to finish their prayers in peace and quiet. In short, these detestable
vermin swarmed everywhere; and not only their impudence and clamorous
importunity were without any bounds, but they had recourse to the most
diabolical arts and most horrid crimes in prosecution of their trade.
The growing number of the beggars, and their success, gave a kind of
_eclat_ to their profession; and the habit of begging became so
general, that it ceased to be considered as infamous, and was by
degrees in a manner interwoven with the internal regulations of
society. Herdsmen and shepherds who attended their flocks by the
roadside, were known to derive considerable advantage from the
contributions which their situation enabled them to levy from
passengers; and I have been assured that the wages they received from
their employers were often regulated accordingly. The children in
every country village, and those even of the best farmers, made a
constant practice of begging from all strangers who passed; and one
hardly ever met a person on foot upon the road, particularly a woman,
who did not hold out her hand and ask for charity.’
Count Rumford determined to grapple with this enormous evil, and, if
possible, suppress mendicancy in Bavaria. His sagacity and general
knowledge of mankind taught him to believe the achievement
practicable, and he had already paved the way by his reform of the
army. Other preliminaries, however, were necessary; and assisted by
the genius of the government of Bavaria, where a sudden stroke of
benevolent despotism was more in keeping than it would be elsewhere,
he resolved first thoroughly to mature his scheme, and then to pounce
upon the beggars when he was prepared to receive them. Although he
knew that the people of Bavaria would gladly accept any measure which
would relieve them from the dreadful scourge which they had so long
borne, yet as so many schemes previously proposed had failed, he
resolved to carry his plan into successful execution before he asked a
farthing from the people in support of it. The elector’s treasury was
accordingly drawn upon for the amount of money necessary in advance.
Munich was to be the scene of his first experiment. And first of all,
a building was necessary to receive the beggars when they should be
apprehended. A suitable edifice was found situated in the Au, one of
the suburbs of Munich. ‘It had formerly been a manufactory, but for
many years had been deserted, and falling to ruins. It was now
completely repaired, and in part rebuilt. A large kitchen, with a
large eating-room adjoining it, and a commodious bakehouse, were added
to the buildings; and workshops for carpenters, smiths, turners, and
such other mechanics, were established, and furnished with tools.
Large halls were fitted up for spinners of hemp, for spinners of flax,
for spinners of cotton, for spinners of wool, and for spinners of
worsted; and adjoining to each hall a small room was fitted up for a
clerk or inspector of the hall. Halls were likewise fitted up for
weavers of woolens, weavers of serges and shalloons, for linen
weavers, for weavers of cotton goods, and for stocking-weavers; and
workshops were provided for clothiers, clothshearers, dyers, saddlers;
besides rooms for wool-sorters, wool-carders, wool-combers, knitters,
seamstresses, etc. Magazines were fitted up, as well for finished
manufactures, as for raw materials, and rooms for counting-houses;
storerooms for the kitchen and bakehouse; and dwelling-rooms for the
inspectors, and other officers. The whole edifice, which was very
extensive, was fitted up in the neatest manner possible. In doing
this, even the external appearance of the building was attended to. It
was handsomely painted without as well as within; and pains were taken
to give it an air of elegance, as well as of neatness and
cleanliness.’
All these preparations having been made apparently without exciting
any special degree of public curiosity, New-Year’s Day of the year
1790 was chosen for the grand stroke, that being a day when Munich was
sure to be unusually full of Beggars. The military was posted through
the streets, so as to command the whole town, and the neighboring
country was occupied by patrols of cavalry. In the mean time, having
assembled at his own residence the magistrates of Munich, and a number
of military officers and citizens of rank and dignity, Count Rumford
expounded to them his scheme, and requested them to accompany him into
the streets where the most difficult part of the work, that of
arresting the beggars, was to commence. ‘We had hardly got into the
street,’ says Rumford in his narrative of the proceedings, ‘when we
were accosted by a beggar, who asked us for alms. I went up to him,
and laying my hand gently upon his shoulder, told him that from
thenceforward begging would not be permitted in Munich; that if he
really stood in need of assistance (which would be immediately
inquired into), the necessary assistance should certainly be given
him; but that begging was forbidden, and if he was detected in it
again, he would be severely punished. I then delivered him over to an
orderly-sergeant, who was following me, with directions to conduct him
to the Town-Hall, and deliver him into the hands of those he should
find there to receive him. Then turning to the officers and
magistrates who accompanied me, I begged they would take notice that I
had myself, _with my own hands_, arrested the first beggar we had met;
and I requested them not only to follow my example themselves, by
arresting all the beggars they should meet with, but that they should
also endeavor to persuade others, and particularly the officers and
soldiers of the garrison, that it was by no means derogatory to their
character, or in any way disgraceful to them, to assist in so useful
and laudable an undertaking. These gentlemen having cheerfully and
unanimously promised to do their utmost to second me in this business,
dispersed into the different parts of the town, and, with the
assistance of the military, the town was so thoroughly cleared of
beggars _in less than an hour_, that not one was to be found in the
streets.’
The beggars being all taken to the Town-Hall, their names were written
down, and they were dismissed to their own homes, with directions to
repair next day to the ‘Military Workhouse,’ as the new establishment
was called, in consequence of its being fitted out with money from the
military chest, and destined chiefly to supply the army with clothing
etc. Here they were told they would find comfortable warm rooms, a
good warm dinner every day, and work for such as were able to labor,
with good wages, which should be regularly paid. They might, or might
not come, just as they chose, but at all events they were not to beg
any more; and if they appeared in the streets, they should be
apprehended. The circumstances of them all, they were told, were
immediately to be inquired into, and relief granted to such as
required it.
The plan met with immediate success. On the next day a great number of
the beggars attended at the Military Workhouse; the rest hid
themselves; and so rigorous and effective were the measures adopted to
apprehend mendicants, that after trying in vain to renew their old
practices, these too were obliged at length to yield. The experiment
having succeeded so far, it was judged advisable to appeal to the
public for their support; and a paper was accordingly drawn up by
Professor Babo of Munich, urging the citizens to do their utmost to
rid themselves of the scourge of mendicancy, by coöperating in the new
scheme. In this paper allusion is made to a practice of the beggars,
which may be here mentioned, as a proof of the deplorable viciousness
of the whole system. The beggars of Munich, it appears, drove a
lucrative trade in communion and confessional certificates, which they
obtained from the clergy by attending twice or thrice a-day at the
holy sacrament, and at confession, and afterwards sold to such of the
citizens as were averse to church-going, and yet desirous of avoiding
the inconveniences which neglect of religious observances entailed in
a place where the Roman Catholic clergy had so much power.
Professor Babo’s address having been circulated, with an outline of
Count Rumford’s scheme, the citizens of Munich gladly agreed to
contribute, to enable the project to be fairly carried out; and
indeed, accustomed as they had been to meet the incessant demands of
the beggars by as incessant giving, they saw in the new plan not only
an immediate moral relief, but a prospect of pecuniary saving.
Rumford’s principle was, to depend entirely upon the voluntary
contributions of the charitable. The city was divided into sixteen
districts; the names of all the inhabitants of each district who were
willing to subscribe were taken down, with a note of the sum each
volunteered to contribute. This sum might be altered at the pleasure
of the subscriber――increased, diminished, or even altogether
retracted. The sums were to be collected regularly on the last Sunday
of every month, by an officer who was to go round on purpose among the
subscribers of each district. Arrangements were also made for the
receipt of miscellaneous donations, both large and small; and every
possible means was adopted to beget a public confidence in the
administration of the fund collected, by making the publication of all
accounts imperative.
Two distinct things had now been accomplished by Count Rumford――he had
established a workhouse, and he had secured a fund for the relief of
the poor. Although the two objects were mixed up together at the
commencement, and are of necessity included under the general
descriptive head of the ‘Suppression of Mendicancy,’ they ought not to
be confounded. In seizing upon the beggars, Count Rumford had adopted
the most practicable means for arriving at a very desirable end――the
discrimination of the merely idle from the really necessitous. To
classify these two sorts of persons was his first object. When this
was done, his work then divided itself into two parts――the reclaiming
of the idle to habits of industry, and the relief of the really
necessitous. The modes of operation for the one and for the other were
expressly kept independent; indeed it was one of Rumford’s most
careful provisions that the workhouse should not wear the aspect of an
institution supported by charity. We shall describe first the progress
of the workhouse by which Rumford meant to suppress idleness, and then
the means which he employed for relieving the distress which still
remained.
Before the opening of the Military Workhouse, it had been fitted up
with looms, spinning-machines, &c., as well as furnished with raw
materials, especially hemp, the spinning of which is easily learnt.
During the first week 2600 mendicants, of both sexes, and various
ages, entered the establishment. ‘For the first three or four days,’
says Rumford, ‘it was not possible entirely to prevent confusion.
There was nothing like mutinous resistance among the poor people; but
their situation was so new to them, and they were so very awkward in
it, that it was difficult to bring them into any tolerable order. At
length, however, by distributing them among the various halls, and
assigning to each his particular place, they were brought into such
order, as to enable the inspectors and instructors to begin their
operations. Those who understood any kind of work were placed in the
apartments where the work they understood was carried on; and the
others being classed according to their sexes, and as much as possible
according to their ages, were placed under the immediate care of the
different instructors.’
Every care was taken to promote the comfort of the people while at
work, and to render their work agreeable to them. It being winter, the
rooms were well warmed by fires kept regularly burning; the whole
establishment was swept twice every day; attention was paid to the
ventilation; as far as elegance was possible in halls devoted to work,
it was consulted; and the kindest usage was the order of the
institution. The people arrived at the establishment at a fixed hour
in the morning; they continued at work till the hour of dinner, when
they repaired to the dining-hall, where they were furnished with a
good dinner of white bread and fine rich soup; and after some hours of
further work, they were dismissed, as from any other manufactory, and
had all the rest of their time at their own disposal. Besides the
dinner-hour, which was allowed as relaxation to all in the
establishment, two additional hours, one in the morning, the other in
the afternoon, were allowed to the children, during which they were
assembled in one of the halls, and taught reading, writing, and
arithmetic, by a master paid for the purpose; and as the regular hours
of labor were not longer than in any other manufactory, neither they
nor the adults were overworked. Lastly, every person in the
establishment was regularly paid the wages fixed for the sort of labor
he was employed in. The main feature of the scheme was, to impress
upon those who attended the establishment that they were not
necessarily paupers by their attendance there, but workmen entitled to
the wages which they received. ‘The workhouse,’ says Rumford, ‘was
merely a manufactory, like any other manufactory, supported by its own
private capital, which capital has no connexion whatever with any fund
destined for the poor.’ In order to keep this vividly before the
workpeople, an inscription, in letters of gold, was placed over the
main entrance of the establishment――‘NO ALMS WILL BE RECEIVED HERE.’
It is evident, however, considering the expenses of setting the
establishment agoing, considering all the inducements which were held
out at first to allure the people to it, especially that of paying
them the ordinary rate of wages while they were yet wretchedly bad
workmen, in order to keep up their courage――it is evident, in these
circumstances, that the institution must at first have been maintained
at a loss. Although hemp was selected at first as the material for
learners to begin with, as being cheap, yet such was the awkwardness
of the beginners, that even in this material a considerable loss was
sustained. ‘By an exact calculation, it was found,’ says Rumford,
‘that the manufactory actually lost more than three thousand florins
upon the articles of hemp and flax during the first three months. But
we were not discouraged by these unfavorable beginnings; and if the
establishment was supported at some little expense in the beginning,
it afterwards richly repaid the loss.’ By constant practice, the
workmen became expert, so that not only hemp, but much more expensive
materials, could be intrusted to them with safety; and in a short time
it was no longer a mere benevolent pretense to treat them as men
earning their wages by a fair amount of labor, for such became the
fact. The bustle and activity of the establishment increased from year
to year. In the sixth year of its existence the demand upon it for
goods amounted to half a million of florins; and the net profits of
the six years were calculated at one hundred thousand florins.
It will readily suggest itself to persons acquainted with the
doctrines of political economy, that an objection might be raised to
Count Rumford’s experiment, from a consideration of what may have been
its effects upon the labor market. As all the articles manufactured in
the Military Workhouse for the supply of the Bavarian army had
formerly been manufactured by other persons, it is evident that the
immediate effect of the establishment of the workhouse was to withdraw
so much custom from those other persons, whoever they may have been. A
moment’s consideration, however, of the state of Bavaria, will rob the
consideration of whatever threatening look it may wear in the case
which we are now concerned with. These persons, now supporting
themselves by the labor of their own hands, had formerly been
mendicants, living at the expense of the industrious portion of the
community; and viewing the matter, therefore, in its pecuniary aspect
alone, the question with the people of Munich was, whether they
sustained a greater loss by admitting 2600 persons to be competitors
with themselves in the labor market, or by supporting the same 2600
persons as mendicants. Add to this, the moral comfort of living in a
town where not a beggar was to be seen, and the still more exquisite
satisfaction of reflecting that a number of their fellow-creatures,
formerly loathsome, vicious, and wretched, were now living in
cleanliness, propriety, and happiness. On the merits of the
institution in this point of view, hear the words of count Rumford
himself. After alluding to the expertness which the members of the
establishment acquired in the various manufactures, he proceeds――‘But
what was quite surprising, and at the same time interesting in the
highest degree, was the apparent and rapid change which was produced
in their manners. The kind usage they met with, and the comforts they
enjoyed, seemed to have softened their hearts, and awakened in them
sentiments as new and surprising to themselves as they were
interesting to those about them. The melancholy gloom of misery, the
air of uneasiness and embarrassment, disappeared by little and little
from their countenances, and were succeeded by a timid dawn of
cheerfulness, rendered most exquisitely interesting by a certain
mixture of silent gratitude which no language can describe. In the
infancy of this establishment, when these poor creatures were first
brought together, I used very frequently to visit them, to speak
kindly to them, and to encourage them; and I seldom passed through the
halls where they were at work without being a witness to the most
moving scenes. Objects formerly the most miserable and wretched, whom
I had seen for years as beggars in the street; young women, perhaps
the unhappy victims of seduction, who, having lost their reputation,
and being turned adrift in the world without a friend and without a
home, were reduced to the necessity of begging to sustain a miserable
existence, now recognized me as their benefactor, and with tears
dropping fast from their cheeks, continued their work in the most
expressive silence. If they were asked what the matter was with them,
their answer was, ‘_Nichts_’ [‘Nothing’], accompanied by a look of
affectionate regard and gratitude so touching, as frequently to draw
tears from the most insensible of the bystanders. Why should I not
mention the marks of affectionate respect which I received from the
poor people for whose happiness I interested myself? Will it be
reckoned vanity if I mention the concern which the poor of Munich
expressed in so affecting a manner when I was dangerously ill?――that
they went publicly in a body in procession to the cathedral church,
where they had divine service performed, and put up public prayers for
my recovery?――that, four years afterwards, on hearing that I was again
dangerously ill at Naples, they of their own accord set apart an hour
each evening, after they had finished their work in the Military
Workhouse, to pray for me; for me――a private person――a stranger――a
Protestant!’
Having thus described the procedure at the Military Workhouse――which,
although it was established with a philanthropic design, and had at
first the aspect of a charitable institution, was in fact no such
thing, but a mere commercial concern, yielding a profit on the capital
invested in it――we shall now briefly narrate Count Rumford’s plan of
dealing with the pauperism of Munich――with the real poverty and
destitution which remained after all that could be effected by the
Military Workhouse.
The entire management of the poor of Munich was put into the hands of
a committee, consisting of four of the principal Bavarian ministers of
state――namely, the president of the council of war, the president of
the council of regency, the president of the ecclesiastical council,
and the president of the chamber of finances; and these four were to
choose each a counselor of his own department to assist him. Neither
the presidents nor the counselors were to be paid for their labors in
this committee; and the secretary, clerks, and inferior officers
required, were to be paid, not out of the fund for the poor, but
immediately from the treasury. The mode of reaching the poor was as
follows:――The whole town, containing about 60,000 inhabitants, was
divided into sixteen districts, the houses being all regularly
numbered. In each district, a respectable citizen was chosen to be
inspector of the poor within its limits. This inspector, whose
services were to be purely voluntary, and unpaid, was to have for his
assistants a priest, a physician, a surgeon, and an apothecary. The
business of the inspector was to receive applications for relief, to
inquire into the circumstances of the applicants, to furnish immediate
assistance if it was required, and, where assistance might be delayed,
to refer to the committee. Relief was granted, as might be required,
in clothing, in medical aid, or in weekly sums of money; but in making
the allowance, care was taken to find out how much the applicant was
in a condition to earn. If he was able to work, work was provided for
him, either at the Military Workhouse, or at home, to be delivered at
the workhouse. The fact of his having been industrious, was certified
by a government stamp affixed by the overseers of the workhouse every
week to a slip of paper, on which also was marked the sum he had
earned, and whatever was necessary for his support over and above this
sum was granted. Those who could not work, were of course provided
for. The funds out of which all the provisions were made consisted, as
we have already said, of the voluntary contributions of the
inhabitants. There were a few legacies for the poor; certain fines,
also, went into the poor’s fund; but the great mass of the money
required was collected statedly from the citizens in the manner
described in a previous page, not by assessment, but by purely
voluntary subscription. Besides donations in food and clothing, the
sum collected in ready money during five years from the inhabitants of
Munich was 200,000 florins, which was found amply sufficient for all
purposes. It must be remembered, however, that the peculiar
circumstances of the people of Munich, in having just been relieved
from the scourge of mendicancy, made them more apt to fall into the
habit of voluntary subscriptions than probably might be the case with
the inhabitants of other towns not so circumstanced. Indeed the
citizens of Munich effected a clear pecuniary saving by the change――a
saving amounting in all to more than two-thirds. This saving consisted
of two items:――First, an actual diminution of the mass of pauperism,
numbers of those who formerly subsisted by charity being now able to
support themselves either in whole or in part; and secondly, a
retrenchment of all that waste which accompanies a private
dispensation of charity, as compared with a system of general
management, where, in consequence of the wholesale scale of
operations, economy can be studied. The value of this second
consideration will appear when we come to speak of Count Rumford’s
devices for economising food and fuel.
It will now be seen how the Military Workhouse, and the system of
management for the poor, worked into each other’s hands, although in
principle totally independent of each other. No part of the Military
Workhouse was under the control of the committee for the poor, except
only the kitchen and bakehouse, which, as being supported out of the
funds for the poor, were placed under their management.
Having thus described, at considerable length, Count Rumford’s
measures for the suppression of mendicancy in Munich, it only remains
to be added that our description is to be taken rather as a historical
account of an interesting and apparently successful experiment, than
as a thorough appreciation of its merits as a social scheme. To
criticise all the details of Count Rumford’s plan, especially as a
plan of universal application, would require much space, and would
lead to controversy. It may be safely said, however, that while some
parts of the scheme may be theoretically objectionable, and others may
not be adapted for circumstances different from those in which they
had their origin, the general features of the scheme are as sound as
the spirit which prompted it was philanthropic.