Life and Customs of Rural England

It is not for nothing that England is known far and wide as the Homeland, the land of peaceful prospects and little homes. Through all the ages England has been the inspiration of her children, the shrine before which they have never ceased to offer up the incense of love and devotion and praise.

What is the magic that holds the hearts of her countrymen so fast that her plainest and most unprepossessing corner is of more worth to him who was born there than the fairest and most fertile spot in all the world?

Ask the exile working in some far corner of the world what it is that makes him labour so hard that he may return to end his days amidst scenes of his youth, and though the answer may be halting and involved its meaning is plain-it is because there is a homeliness and peace about the English countryside that is not to be found elsewhere. It is not of the great city that he speaks, or for the excitements of the town that he longs, but for the peace and freshness of the country The soul of England must not be sought in the city, but in the countryside; the city is the working place, the prison in which Englishmen toil to earn their freedom; it is only the beloved abiding-place of the few; the many yearn for a cottage and a plot of ground where the wind blows pure and the heavens are not masked by a pall of gloom. It is the country that has made England and all that of which her name is a symbol. From her manor houses and little cottages came forth the men who made her great, the men who gave their lives to an ideal and fought to free her from oppression. The marks of her native genius are in the country rather than in the towns, for to the towns came the foreigner, bringing influence which affected habits and customs and methods, but made little or no impression on the humble people who stamped their individuality upon the countryside for all to see. It was the toil of countless countrymen through the ages that laid the foundation of the towns of England, and it is the country that teaches us that England was built up by generations of unknown workers. Of no land can it be said with greater truth that the humble people made her great, and the countryside as we know it today is the outcome of their activities and their lives. It is to them that we owe the ordered homeliness and air of peaceful settlement that is perhaps its greatest charm.

Changes in English village life have been so rapid in recent years that customs and institutions of even a decade ago are no longer familiar. Everywhere one sees the old giving way to new. The whole face of England is being rapidly altered, and this is far more noticeable in the country districts than in towns. So many old landmarks are being swept away that it seems time to call a halt, and at least to take a survey of them before the old is banished by the new. During most of the 19th century the country seemed to stagnate, but now, owing to the ease of communication, a change has been brought about owing to the desire of people to see the country, and the conveniences for doing so with the motor car and the excellent roads.

The individuality and fitness for use of most things in the country makes rural England greatly attractive, especially to those who return to it after long absence. Everything fits in its setting so naturally and so quietly that its very harmony calls attention to the concord that exists between the arrangement of nature and the work of men's hands. The little gardens before the cottage doors seem as natural and as much in place as the riot of wild blossoms at the hedge-foot. The old cottages and small farms, mellowed by age and weather, are in such perfect keeping with their environment that they might be a growth of Nature rather than the handiwork of man. The reason is not far to seek. In the day they were built every district was self-supporting, except in rare instances, and material that lay ready to hand was used, and the style was dictated by tradition and experience.

In stone countries the builders went out and quarried their own stone; where stone is rare and wood abounding the cottages are of timber framing filled with wattle-and-daub or brick. Thus it is that the dwellings of the country are actually part of the soil on which they stand, and there are no harsh contrasts, no staring dissimilarities, but each melts imperceptibly into the other with the lapse of time.

If we would understand the soul of England, we must wander far in the high-ways and by-ways of the countryside. As Washington Irving wrote a century ago: "The stranger who would form a correct opinion of the English character must not confine his observations to the Metropolis. He must go forth into the country; he must sojourn in villages and hamlets; he must visit castles, villas, farm houses and cottages; he must wander through parks and gardens, along hedges and green lanes; he must loiter about country churches; attend wakes and fairs, and other rural festivals, and cope with the people in all their conditions, and all their habits and humours. " These words remain true today, though written one hundred years ago.

In the past the country was England. Population was more evenly distributed, and there was no great difference between the agricultural and industrial districts as there is today. It is only a century ago that those living in the country outnumbered those dwelling in the towns; in 1851 they were about equally divided, whereas now the country accounts for only about 20°0. In 1872 there were 24,000,000 acres being farmed, whereas now it has decreased to something like 19,000,000 acres. In the last thirty years the percentage of people in the country has fallen 7%, from 28% to 21 % of the population.

The chief hope for the future lies in the fact that love of country is ingrained in the English race, that a country life is the best the world can offer, that eventual retirement to a cottage is the flame that keeps ambition alive in the hearts of thousands of tired workers. The countryman is the type of the English race. The sturdy patriotism, local and insular, the independence that goes its own way because it is convinced it is doing the proper thing, the self-sufficiency that does not worry about the applause of others if itself be satisfied, the strong sense of duty, the diffidence and inarticulateness, all outstanding features of the typical Englishman, are perhaps more evident in the country than in the towns where intercourse with foreigners and the stress of competition have naturally influenced character. And just as the Englishman's diffidence and lack of selfexpression have made him misunderstood abroad, these qualities are mainly answerable for that gulf which separates city and country. The foreigner girds at Englishmen for their irregularity and their peculiar ways, and the townsman speaks very similarly of the dweller in rural parts.

To understand the countryman and his life, and to sympathise with his difficulties, it is above all necessary to remember that the most marked characteristic of England is her infinite variety. Not only the people themselves, but the conditions of life, methods of work, industries, customs and climate differ from county to county, almost from parish to parish. Not only do different districts have different breeds of domestic animals, but their harness and trappings are not the same, even the build of their carts and wagons, the very colours in which they are painted, follow local custom. In fact the diversities of rural England are endless. Much has been written on the different features of the countryside, and on its sport and natural history, but comparatively little attention has been devoted to the countryman and his round of work and leisure.

After a period of neglect the War has taught the nation the essential preeminence of the labours of those who till the soil, and country life is undoubtedly regaining some of the importance and interest it deserves, which it should never have lost. Even though the present is one of rapid and widespread transition, and the position is again acute in its depression and difficulty, the awakening movement will continue. The neglect of the countryside by politicians is proverbial and often the countryman is made the butt of flippant pleasantries. In the War, however, it was realized how important a part the farmer plays in the country's welfare, for when necessity arose he it was who did so much to save the country from starvation by increasing the production of crops under the most trying circumstances, and under the most difficult conditions, due to the fact that all able-bodied men had been called to the colours.

Just now the country is in a state of flux, and those who know it best are least inclined to predict the future. The sale of large estates, the decay of villages, the demand for higher wages, easier conditions and more houses have been witnessed before. Acts of Parliament have been passed to prevent farm being added to farm, or ploughland being turned to pasture, and to authorize the building of cottages with a decent plot of land attached. The causes and results of these may be studied with advantage if we are to turn the present awakening to account. Let us remember that life in the country has always been largely self-contained, and though it is often said contemptuously that people exist by taking in each other's washing, such mutual support leads to independence and usually a modest competence, and so contentment, unless, conditions being too hard, life becomes a never-ending struggle for mere subsistence.

Recent legislation and taxation have had a harmful effect on rural England. The hereditary landowning class which enabled the country to weather many a storm is being crushed out. Land and estate sales have multiplied during the past few years, bringing fresh difficulties and reducing the demand for labour. New faces everywhere, on estate and in village, mainly people out of touch with country life, who have served no apprenticeship to their duties and responsibilities. Farmers anxious to retain their holdings bought at the top of the boom now find that mortgage holders are not so accommodating as the land owner, who would postpone taking his rent until better times, and in some cases reduced it. Repairs and upkeep are expensive, and high costs have sadly interfered with the reconstruction so fondly expected, and proved the last straw that broke the back of many an overburdened country gentleman. So every week one hears of estates being broken up, and if unpurchased, partly closed because their owners cannot maintain them properly. And yet, history teaches us how much the prosperity of a nation is built upon the welfare of the rural community, and therefore it is hoped that the future of the dwellers in the country may be improved. The country is more than a sporting ground for the wealthy, a place for a pleasant holiday; being constantly in touch with realties it has a stabilising effect in these days of unrest and vague longings, it keeps alive the traditions of the nation, and maintains the rugged strength which has made it great. Its ever-varying tasks preserve individuality, and are so inter-dependent that they form a bond that unites the interests of one to another and show that each is necessary to the common weal.

The cities and great towns of England may be her brain, but the country is her soul. Allow the intellect to enslave the soul and you have cleverness without depth or humanity, and when the prolonged crisis arrives the lack of faith and unity brings inevitable collapse. Both acting in unison create the spirit which commands the world, whatever the circumstances.

Premier Baldwin at St. George's Society said:

" To me England is the country and the country is England. The tinkle of the hammer on the anvil in the country smithy, the corncrake in the dewy morning, the sound of the scythe against the whetstone, and the sight of a plough team coming over the brow of a hill, the wild anemones in the woods in April, the last load of hay being drawn down the lane as twilight comes, and the smell of wood-smoke coming up in an autumn evening-so England comes to me when I am abroad. "

(The lecturer then showed over fifty beautiful slides representing country homes, famous inns and churches, village greens, farmhouse kitchens, water-mills, morris dancers, rural occupations such as sheepshearing and dipping, the village blacksmith, wheelwright, making chairs from rushes, thatching, etc.)

The PRESIDENT expressed the thanks and appreciation of the Club to the lecturer for his interesting and instructive talk and beautiful views.