We may here take leave of our old clerks, observing that they were in
general better educated, or at least better informed, than the rest of
the community, few of whom knew anything about what might be regarded
as the current literature of the time. Yet, with all their ignorance of
every work of fiction, except Robinson Crusoe and the Pilgrim’s
Progress (the former always regarded as literally true), the oldest of
old folks of fifty years ago knew many scraps of Grecian and Roman
lore, as well as rare legends of ordinary saints, besides all those of
our local ones. The story of the taking of Troytown was as well known
to many as the game of that name. I well remember an old farm labourer
who did not know his a, b, c; yet he would tell you much about the
principal heroes of mythic history, and acquired the nickname of Plato
from his always going about singing, when alone, the old song almost
worthy of the sage, “Says Plato, why should man be vain, since
bounteous heaven has made him great?” &c., or another about Aurora and
Flora.
How came these uneducated and poor folks to get hold of so much of the
old world lore? It may partly be accounted for by the more gregarious,
or sociable, customs of the olden times, when there was much less to do
in the winter season, before turnips were introduced into the west
country (in a great measure by the example of the late Colonel
Scobell), there being then but few cattle housed. Great part of the
winter’s day was passed in hunting, in which sport one and all joined.
After the substantial supper—no slops of tea then, but good
home-brewed, with bread and cheese, beef, mutton, or bacon—the mistress
and her maids spun, whilst the men carded the wool, song-singing and
story-telling going on all the time, or the master read from their
favourite Robinson Crusoe, or from Moore’s Almanack, which was also a
great resource, or recited some drolls which all knew by heart; yet
they never tire of hearing them repeated, with such variations and
embellishments as some recent occurrence might often suggest.
A vast amount of curious information may also be traced to the sociable
and beloved old parson, who kept up such familiar intercourse with his
flock as to sympathise with all their joys and griefs, and to join in
all their sports and pastimes during nearly half a century.