CHAPTER VIII.

Possessions of the different classes in England--Condition

of Colchester in 1301--Tools, stock-in-trade, furniture,

&c.--Supply of food--Comparative duration of human

life--Want of facilities for commerce--Plenty and

civilization not productive of effeminacy--Colchester in the

present day.

It will be desirable to exhibit something like an average view of the

extent of the possessions of all classes of society, and especially of

the middling and labouring classes, in this country, at a period when

the mutual rights of capitalists and labourers were so little understood

as in the fourteenth century. We have shown how, at that time, there was

a general round of oppression, resulting from ignorance of the proper

interests of the productive classes; and it would be well also to show

that during this period of disunion and contest between capital and

labour, each plundering the other, and both plundered by arbitrary

power, whether of the nobles or the crown, production went on very

slowly and imperfectly, and that there was little to plunder and less to

exchange. It is difficult to find the materials for such an inquiry.

There is no very accurate record of the condition of the various classes

of society before the invention of printing; and even after that

invention we must be content to form our conclusions from a few

scattered facts not recorded for any such purpose as we have in view,

but to be gathered incidentally from slight observations which have come

down to us. Yet enough remains to enable us to form a picture of

tolerable accuracy; and in some points to establish conclusions which

cannot be disputed. It is in the same way that our knowledge of the

former state of the physical world must be derived from relics of that

former state, to which the inquiries and comparisons of the present

times have given an historical value. We know, for instance, that the

animals of the southern countries once abounded in these islands,

because we occasionally find their bones in quantities which could not

have been accumulated unless such animals had been once native to these

parts; and the remains of sea-shells upon the tops of hills now under

the plough show us that even these heights have been heaved up from the

bosom of the ocean. In the same way, although we have no complete

picture of the state of property at the period to which we allude, we

have evidence enough to describe that state from records which may be

applied to this end, although preserved for a very different object.

In the reign of Edward III., Colchester, in Essex, was considered the

tenth city in England in point of population. It then paid a poll-tax

for 2955 lay persons. In 1301, about half a century before, the number

of inhabitant housekeepers was 390; and the whole household furniture,

utensils, clothes, money, cattle, corn, and every other property found

in the town, was valued at 518_l._ 16_s._ 0-3/4_d._ This valuation took

place on occasion of a subsidy or tax to the crown, to carry on a war

against France; and the particulars, which are preserved in the Rolls of

Parliament, exhibit with great minuteness the classes of persons then

inhabiting that town, and the sort of property which each respectively

possessed. The trades exercised in Colchester were the following:--baker,

barber, blacksmith, bowyer, brewer, butcher, carpenter, carter, cobbler,

cook, dyer, fisherman, fuller, furrier, girdler, glass-seller, glover,

linen-draper, mercer and spice-seller, miller, mustard and vinegar

seller, old clothes seller, saddler, tailor, tanner, tiler, weaver,

wood-cutter, and wool-comber. If we look at a small town of the present

day, where such a variety of occupations are carried on, we shall find

that each tradesman has a considerable stock of commodities, abundance

of furniture and utensils, clothes in plenty, some plate, books, and

many articles of convenience and luxury to which the most wealthy

dealers and mechanics of Colchester of the fourteenth century were utter

strangers. That many places at that time were much poorer than

Colchester there can be no doubt: for here we see the division of labour

was pretty extensive, and that is always a proof that production is

going forward, however imperfectly. We see, too, that the tradesmen were

connected with manufactures in the ordinary use of the term; or there

would not have been the dyer, the glover, the linen-draper, the tanner,

the weaver, and the wool-comber. There must have been a demand for

articles of foreign commerce, too, in this town, or we should not have

had the spice-seller. Yet, with all these various occupations,

indicating considerable profitable industry when compared with earlier

stages in the history of this country, the whole stock of the town was

valued at little more than 500_l._ Nor let it be supposed that this

smallness of capital can be accounted for by the difference in the

standard of money; although that difference is considerable. We may

indeed satisfy ourselves of the small extent of the capital of

individuals at that day, by referring to the inventory of the articles

upon which the tax we have mentioned was laid at Colchester.

The whole stock of a carpenter's tools was valued at one shilling. They

altogether consisted of two broad axes, an adze, a square, and a navegor

or spoke-shave. Rough work must the carpenter have been able to perform

with these humble instruments; but then let it be remembered that there

was little capital to pay him for finer work, and that very little fine

work was consequently required. The three hundred and ninety

housekeepers of Colchester then lived in mud huts, with a rough door and

no chimney. Harrison, speaking of the manners of a century later than

the period we are describing, says, "There were very few chimneys even

in capital towns: the fire was laid to the wall, and the smoke issued

out at the roof, or door, or window. The houses were wattled, and

plastered over with clay; and all the furniture and utensils were of

wood. The people slept on straw pallets, with a log of wood for a

pillow." When this old historian wrote, he mentions the erection of

chimneys as a modern luxury. We had improved little upon our Anglo-Saxon

ancestors in the article of chimneys. In their time Alcuin, an abbot who

had ten thousand vassals, writes to the emperor at Rome that he

preferred living in his smoky house to visiting the palaces of Italy.

This was in the ninth century. Five hundred years had made little

difference in the chimneys of Colchester. The nobility had hangings

against the walls to keep out the wind, which crept in through the

crevices which the builder's bungling art had left: the middle orders

had no hangings. Shakspere alludes to this rough building of houses even

in his time:--

"Imperial Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,

Might stop a hole to keep the wind away."

Even the nobility went without glass to their windows in the fourteenth

and fifteenth centuries. "Of old time," says Harrison, "our country

houses, instead of glass, did use much lattice, and that made either of

wicker or fine rifts of oak, in checkerwise." When glass was introduced,

it was for a long time so scarce that at Alnwick Castle, in 1567, the

glass was ordered to be taken out of the windows, and laid up in safety,

when the lord was absent.

The mercer's stock-in-trade at Colchester was much upon a level with the

carpenter's tools. It was somewhat various, but very limited in

quantity. The whole comprised a piece of woollen cloth, some silk and

fine linen, flannel, silk purses, gloves, girdles, leather purses, and

needle-work; and it was altogether valued at 3_l._ There appears to have

been another dealer in cloth and linen in the town, whose store was

equally scanty. We were not much improved in the use of linen a century

later. We learn from the Earl of Northumberland's household book, whose

family was large enough to consume one hundred and sixty gallons of

mustard during the winter with their salt meat, that only seventy ells

of linen were allowed for a year's consumption. In the fourteenth

century none but the clergy and nobility wore white linen. As industry

increased, and the cleanliness of the middle classes increased with it,

the use of white linen became more general; but even at the end of the

next century, when printing was invented, the paper-makers had the

greatest difficulty in procuring rags for their manufacture; and so

careful were the people of every class to preserve their linen, that

night-clothes were never worn. Linen was so dear that Shakspere makes

Falstaff's shirts eight shillings an ell. The more sumptuous articles of

a mercer's stock were treasured in rich families from generation to

generation; and even the wives of the nobility did not disdain to

mention in their wills a particular article of clothing, which they left

to the use of a daughter or a friend. The solitary old coat of a baker

came into the Colchester valuation; nor is this to be wondered at, when

we find that even the soldiers at the battle of Bannockburn, about this

time, were described by an old rhymer as "well near all naked."

The household furniture found in use amongst the families of Colchester

consisted, in the more wealthy, of an occasional bed, a brass pot, a

brass cup, a gridiron, and a rug or two, and perhaps a towel. Of chairs

and tables we hear nothing. We learn from the Chronicles of Brantome, a

French historian of these days, that even the nobility sat upon chests

in which they kept their clothes and linen. Harrison, whose testimony we

have already given to the poverty of these times, affirms, that if a man

in seven years after marriage could purchase a flock bed, and a sack of

chaff to rest his head upon, he thought himself as well lodged as the

lord of the town, "who peradventure lay seldom on a bed entirely of

feathers." An old tenure in England, before these times, binds the

vassal to find straw even for the king's bed. The beds of flock, the few

articles of furniture, the absence of chairs and tables, would have been

of less consequence to the comfort and health of the people, if they had

been clean; but cleanliness never exists without a certain possession of

domestic conveniences. The people of England, in the days of which we

are speaking, were not famed for their attention to this particular.

Thomas a Becket was reputed extravagantly nice, because he had his

parlour strewed every day with clean straw. As late as the reign of

Henry VIII., Erasmus, a celebrated scholar of Holland, who visited

England, complains that the nastiness of the people was the cause of the

frequent plagues that destroyed them; and he says, "their floors are

commonly of clay, strewed with rushes, under which lie unmolested a

collection of beer, grease, fragments, bones, spittle, excrements of

dogs and cats, and of everything that is nauseous." The elder Scaliger,

another scholar who came to England, abuses the people for giving him no

convenience to wash his hands. Glass vessels were scarce, and pottery

was almost wholly unknown. The Earl of Northumberland, whom we have

mentioned, breakfasted on trenchers and dined on pewter. While such

universal slovenliness prevailed as Erasmus has described, it is not

likely that much attention was generally paid to the cultivation of the

mind. Before the invention of printing, at the time of the valuation of

Colchester, books in manuscript, from their extreme costliness, could be

purchased only by princes. The royal library of Paris, in 1378,

consisted of nine hundred and nine volumes,--an extraordinary number.

The same library now comprises upwards of four hundred thousand volumes.

But it may fairly be assumed that, where one book could be obtained in

the fourteenth century by persons of the working classes, four hundred

thousand may be as easily obtained now. Here then was a privation which

existed five hundred years ago, which debarred our ancestors from more

profit and pleasure than the want of beds, and chairs, and linen; and

probably, if this privation had continued, and men therefore had not

cultivated their understandings, they would not have learnt to give any

really profitable direction to their labour, and we should still have

been as scantily supplied with furniture and clothes as the good people

of Colchester of whom we have been speaking.

Let us see what accumulated supply, or capital, of food the inhabitants

of England had five centuries ago. Possessions in cattle are the

earliest riches of most countries. We have seen that cattle was called

"live money;" and it is supposed that the word capital, which means

stock generally, was derived from the Latin word "capita," or heads of

beasts. The law-term "chattels" is also supposed to come from cattle.

These circumstances show that cattle were the chief property of our

ancestors. Vast herds of swine constituted the great provision for the

support of the people; and these were principally fed, as they are even

now in the New Forest, upon acorns and beech-mast. In Domesday Book, a

valuation of the time of William the Conqueror, it is always mentioned

how many hogs each estate can maintain. Hume the historian, in his

Essays, alluding to the great herds of swine described by Polybius as

existing in Italy and Greece, concludes that the country was thinly

peopled and badly cultivated; and there can be no doubt that the same

argument may be applied to England in the fourteenth century, although

many swine were maintained in forests preserved for fuel. The hogs

wandered about the country in a half-wild state, destroying, probably,

more than they profitably consumed; and they were badly fed, if we may

judge from a statute of 1402, which alleges the great decrease of fish

in the Thames and other rivers, by the practice of feeding hogs with the

fry caught at the weirs. The hogs' flesh of England was constantly

salted for the winter's food. The people had little fodder for cattle in

the winter, and therefore they only tasted fresh meat in the summer

season. The mustard and vinegar seller formed a business at Colchester,

to furnish a relish for the pork. Stocks of salted meat are mentioned in

the inventory of many houses there, and live hogs as commonly. But

salted flesh is not food to be eaten constantly, and with little

vegetable food, without severe injury to the health. In the early part

of the reign of Henry VIII., not a cabbage, carrot, turnip, or other

edible root, grew in England. Two or three centuries before, certainly,

the monasteries had gardens with a variety of vegetables; but nearly

all the gardens of the laity were destroyed in the wars between the

houses of York and Lancaster. Harrison speaks of wheaten bread as being

chiefly used by the gentry for their own tables; and adds that the

artificer and labourer are "driven to content themselves with

horse-corn, beans, peason, oats, tares, and lentils." There is no doubt

that the average duration of human life was at that period not one-half

as long as at the present day. The constant use of salted meat, with

little or no vegetable addition, doubtless contributed to the shortening

of life, to say nothing of the large numbers constantly swept away by

pestilence and famine. Till lemon-juice was used as a remedy for scurvy

amongst our seamen, who also are compelled to eat salted meat without

green vegetables, the destruction of life in the navy was something

incredible. Admiral Hosier buried his ships' companies twice during a

West India voyage in 1726, partly from the unhealthiness of the Spanish

coast, but chiefly from the ravages of scurvy. Bad food and want of

cleanliness swept away the people of the middle ages, by ravages upon

their health that the limited medical skill of those days could never

resist. Matthew Paris, an historian of that period, states that there

were in his time twenty thousand hospitals for lepers in Europe.

The slow accumulation of capital in the early stages of the civilization

of a country is in a great measure caused by the indisposition of the

people to unite for a common good in public works, and the inability of

governments to carry on these works, when their principal concern is

war, foreign or domestic. The foundations of the civilization of this

country were probably laid by our Roman conquerors, who carried roads

through the island, and taught us how to cultivate our soil. Yet

improvement went on so slowly that, even a hundred years after the

Romans were settled here, the whole country was described as marshy. For

centuries after the Romans made the Watling-street and a few other

roads, one district was separated from another by the general want of

these great means of communication. Bracton, a law-writer of the period

we have been so constantly mentioning, holds that, if a man being at

Oxford engage to pay money the same day in London, he shall be

discharged of his contract, as he undertakes a physical impossibility.

We find, as late as the time of Elizabeth, that her Majesty would not

stay to breakfast at Cambridge because she had to travel twelve miles

before she could come to the place, Hinchinbrook, where she desired to

sleep. Where there were no roads, there could be few or no markets. An

act of parliament of 1272 says that the religious houses should not be

compelled to _sell_ their provisions--a proof that there were no

considerable stores except in the religious houses. The difficulty of

navigation was so great, that William Longsword, son of Henry II.,

returning from France, was during three months tossed upon the sea

before he could make a port in Cornwall. Looking, therefore, to the want

of commerce proceeding from the want of communication--looking to the

small stock of property accumulated to support labour--and looking, as

we have previously done, to the incessant contests between the small

capital and the misdirected labour, both feeble, because they worked

without skill--we cannot be surprised that the poverty of which we have

exhibited a faint picture should have endured for several centuries, and

that the industry of our forefathers must have had a long and painful

struggle before it could have bequeathed to us such magnificent

accumulations as we now enjoy.

The writers who lived at the periods when Europe was slowly emerging

from ignorance and poverty, through the first slight union of capital

and labour as voluntary exchangers, complain of the increase of comforts

as indications of the growing luxury and effeminacy of the people.

Harrison says, "In times past men were contented to dwell in houses

builded of sallow, willow, plum-tree, or elm; so that the use of oak was

dedicated to churches, religious houses, princes' palaces, noblemen's

lodgings, and navigation. But now, these are rejected, and nothing but

oak any whit regarded. And yet see the change; for when our houses were

builded of willow, then had we oaken men; but now that our houses are

made of oak, our men are not only become willow, but many, through

Persian delicacy crept in among us, altogether of straw, which is a sore

alteration. In those days, the courage of the owner was a sufficient

defence to keep the house in safety; but now, the assurance of the

timber, double doors, locks, and bolts, must defend the man from

robbing. Now have we many chimneys, and our tenderlings complain of

rheums, catarrhs, and poses. Then had we none but rere-dosses, and our

heads did never ache." These complaints go upon the same principle that

made it a merit in Epictetus, the Greek philosopher, to have had no door

to his hovel. We think he would have been a wiser man if he had

contrived to have had a door. A story is told of a Highland chief, Sir

Evan Cameron, that himself and a party of his followers being benighted,

and compelled to sleep in the open air, when his son rolled up a ball of

snow and laid his head upon it for a pillow, the rough old man kicked it

away, exclaiming, "What, sir! are you turning effeminate?" We doubt

whether Sir Evan Cameron and his men were braver than the English

officers who fought at Waterloo; and yet many of these marched from the

ball-room at Brussels in their holiday attire, and won the battle in

silk stockings. It is an old notion that plenty of the necessaries and

conveniences of life renders a nation feeble. We are told that the

Carthaginian soldiers whom Hannibal carried into Italy were suddenly

rendered effeminate by the abundance which they found around them at

Capua. The commissariat of modern nations goes upon another principle;

and believes that unless the soldier has plenty of food and clothing he

will not fight with alacrity and steadiness. The half-starved soldiers

of Henry V. won the battle of Agincourt; but it was not because they

were half-starved, but because they roused their native courage to cut

their way out of the peril by which they were surrounded. The Russians

of our time had a notion that the English could not fight on land,

because for forty years we had been a commercial instead of a military

nation. The battle of the Alma corrected their mistake. When we hear of

ancient nations being enervated by abundance, we may be sure that the

abundance was almost entirely devoured by a few tyrants, and that the

bulk of the people were rendered weak by the destitution which resulted

from the unnatural distribution of riches. We read of the luxury of the

court of Persia--the pomp of the seraglios, and of the palaces--the

lights, the music, the dancing, the perfumes, the silks, the gold, and

the diamonds. The people are held to be effeminate. The Russians, from

the hardy north, can lay the Persian monarchy any day at their feet. Is

this national weakness caused by the excess of production amongst the

people, giving them so extravagant a command over the necessaries and

luxuries of life that they have nothing to do but drink of the full cup

of enjoyment? Mr. Fraser, an English traveller, thus describes the

appearance of a part of the country which he visited in 1821:--"The

plain of Yezid-Khaust presented a truly lamentable picture of the

general decline of prosperity in Persia. Ruins of large villages thickly

scattered about with the skeleton-like walls of caravansaries and

gardens, all telling of better times, stood like _memento moris_

(remembrances of death) to kingdoms and governments; and the whole plain

was dotted over with small mounds, which indicate the course of cannauts

(artificial streams for watering the soil), once the source of riches

and fertility, now all choked up and dry; for there is neither man nor

cultivation to require their aid." Was it the luxury of the people which

produced this decay--the increase of their means of production--their

advancement in skill and capital; or some external cause which repressed

production, and destroyed accumulation both of outward wealth and

knowledge? "Such is the character of their rulers," says Mr. Fraser,

"that the only measure of their demands is the power to extort on one

hand, and the ability to give or retain on the other." Where such a

system prevails, all accumulated labour is concealed, for it would

otherwise be plundered. It does not freely and openly work to encourage

new labour. Burckhardt, the traveller of Nubia, saw a farmer who had

been plundered of everything by the pacha, because it came to the ears

of the savage ruler that the unhappy man was in the habit of eating

wheaten bread; and that, he thought, was too great a luxury for a

subject. If such oppressions had not long ago been put down in England,

we should still have been in the state of Colchester in the fourteenth

century. When these iniquities prevailed, and there was neither freedom

of industry nor security of property--when capital and labour were not

united--when all men consequently worked unprofitably, because they

worked without division of labour, accumulation of knowledge, and union

of forces--there was universal poverty, because there was feeble

production. Slow and painful were the steps which capital and labour had

to make before they could emerge, even in part, from this feeble and

degraded state. But that they have made a wonderful advance in five

hundred years will not be difficult to show. It may assist us in this

view if we compare the Colchester of the nineteenth century with the

Colchester of the fourteenth, in a few particulars.

In the reign of Edward III. Colchester numbered 359 houses of mud,

without chimneys, and with latticed windows. In the reign of Queen

Victoria, according to the census of 1851, it has 4145 inhabited houses,

containing a population of 19,443 males and females. The houses of the

better class, those rented at ten pounds a year and upwards, are

commonly built of brick, and slated or tiled; secured against wind and

weather; with glazed windows and with chimneys; and generally well

ventilated. The worst of these houses are supplied, as fixtures, with a

great number of conveniences, such as grates, and cupboards, and

fastenings. To many of such houses gardens are attached, wherein are

raised vegetables and fruits that kings could not command two centuries

ago. Houses such as these are composed of several rooms--not of one room

only, where the people are compelled to eat and sleep and perform every

office, perhaps in company with pigs and cattle--but of a kitchen, and

often a parlour, and several bedrooms. These rooms are furnished with

tables, and chairs, and beds, and cooking-utensils. There is ordinarily,

too, something for ornament and something for instruction;--a piece or

two of china, silver spoons, books, and not unfrequently a watch or

clock. The useful pottery is abundant and of really elegant forms and

colours; drinking-vessels of glass are universal. The inhabitants are

not scantily supplied with clothes. The females are decently dressed,

having a constant change of linen, and gowns of various patterns and

degrees of fineness. Some, even of the humbler classes, are not thought

to exceed the proper appearance of their station if they wear silk. The

men have decent working habits, strong shoes and hats, and a respectable

suit for Sundays, of cloth often as good as is worn by the highest in

the land. Every one is clean; for no house above the few hovels which

still deform the country is without soap and bowls for washing, and it

is the business of the females to take care that the linen of the family

is constantly washed. The children, very generally, receive instruction

in some public establishment; and when the labour of the day is over,

the father thinks the time unprofitably spent unless he burns a candle

to enable him to read a book or the newspaper. The food which is

ordinarily consumed is of the best quality. Wheaten bread is no longer

confined to the rich; animal food is not necessarily salted, and salt

meat is used principally as a variety; vegetables of many sorts are

plenteous in every market, and these by a succession of care are brought

to higher perfection than in the countries of more genial climate from

which we have imported them; the productions too of distant regions,

such as spices, and coffee, and tea, and sugar, are universally consumed

almost by the humblest in the land. Fuel, also, of the best quality, is

abundant and comparatively cheap.

If we look at the public conveniences of a modern English town, we shall

find the same striking contrast. Water is brought not only into every

street, but into every house; the dust and dirt of a family is regularly

removed without bustle or unpleasantness; the streets are paved, and

lighted at night; roads in the highest state of excellence connect the

town with the whole kingdom, and by means of railroads a man can travel

several hundred miles in a few hours, and more readily than he could ten

miles in the old time; and canal and sea navigation transport the

weightiest goods with the greatest facility from each district to the

other, and from each town to the other, so that all are enabled to apply

their industry to what is most profitable for each and all. Every man,

therefore, may satisfy his wants, according to his means, at the least

possible expense of the transport of commodities. Every tradesman has a

stock ready to meet the demand; and thus the stock of a very moderately

wealthy tradesman of the Colchester of the present day is worth more

than all the stock of all the different trades that were carried on in

the same place in the fourteenth century. The condition of a town like

Colchester--a flourishing market-town in an agricultural

district--offers a fair point of comparison with a town of the time of

Edward III.

Knowledge is power · 第 8 / 25 章