Fragments of Two Centuries: Glimpses of Country Life when George III. was King

by Alfred Kingston

NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE.

A similar meeting was held at Hertford, and men were called to arms between the ages of 15 and 60, and in all towns and villages there was nothing but swearing in and drilling of soldiers, to resist the impending invasion, by which it was said that England was to be divided among the French—"the men all to be killed and the women saved."

In accordance with the above mentioned county scheme each parish had its Council of War, so to speak, at which men more accustomed to "speed the plough" found themselves in solemn conclave discussing such strategical proposals as the local circumstances of each neighbourhood seemed to suggest for arresting the onward march of the invader when he had landed, as it was feared he would. Necessity was the mother of invention, and what the farmer class wanted in military knowledge, they made up for in practical sagacity directed to the intensely personal ends of protecting their own homes and families, their herds and stacks from the ruthless hands of the coming hosts! It was naturally expected that Napoleon would land and enter England from the South or East, and that in the latter case the inhabitants of Hertfordshire and Cambridgeshire would, in the event of a flank movement through the Eastern Counties for London, be among the first to bear the brunt of the devastating march! The horror of the expected invasion was intensified a thousandfold by the Englishman's attachment to his home and family, and deliberations of the village councils often showed less regard for the national scheme of defence than the protection of their homes and property in the time of trial coming upon them. They set to work devising means of local defence as real and as earnest as if every village was already threatened with a state of siege!

This is clear from an intelligible means of local defence which was taken in this neighbourhood. The expectation that "Boney" and his "Mounseers" were coming from the South or East, naturally suggested the expedient of arranging for the transport of non-combatants, and live stock away farther Northward. The expedient was arranged for by the villages around Royston along the Old North Road; and a plan had been devised that as soon as tidings arrived that Buonaparte had landed, each village was to assemble their live stock at a common centre in the village, and then unite with those from other villages. Thus the route for the removal of stock was settled, until it was expected that quotas from each village would make one united common herd wending its way Northward to a safer distance from the ravaging hordes! One seems to see that terrified exodus——

Now crowding in the narrow road,
In thick and struggling masses.
****
Anon, with toss of horn and tail,
And paw of hoof and bellow,
They leap some farmer's broken pale,
O'er meadow-close or fallow!

From chronicles in the British Museum I am able to supplement the foregoing arrangement in force in Cambridgeshire by more definite particulars of the organized precautions to be taken in counties lying nearest the coast as soon as the presence of the Invader became known. As a preliminary, returns had to be made as to the driving of live-stock farther inland away from the coast "in order that indemnification might be estimated for such as could not be removed." The removal of stock and unarmed inhabitants was to be effected after the following fashion:—

First in order were to go the horses and wagons conveying those persons who were unable to remove themselves; then (2nd) cattle; and (3rd) sheep, and all other live-stock; intelligent and active persons to be set apart to superintend these measures.

With regard to the unarmed inhabitants, generally, the arrangement was that they were to "form themselves into companies of not less than 25 or more than 50, the men to come provided, if possible, with pickaxes, spades, and shovels, billhooks and felling axes, each 25 men to have a leader, and for every 50 men a captain in addition." For the purposes of transport, the nobility, gentry, and farmers, were requested to sign statements showing how many wagons, horses, and carts, they could place at the disposal of the nation in an emergency. Similar returns were required from millers and bakers as to how much flour and bread they could supply.

Turning once more from documentary evidence, to the recollections handed down from parents to children, I am reminded that the inhabitants of Bassingbourn and other villages were farmers first and soldiers afterwards; for, having settled the momentous issue of providing for the safety of their families and herds, these village yeomen joined with others in seeking means for thwarting the too ready advance of "Boney's" legions. It is said that as a last resort it was intended to cut down the trees standing by the sides of the North Road, felling them across the road, so as to impede the march of Napoleon's artillery! For how long these efforts could have withstood the march of the legions who crossed Alpine heights, or for how long that great caravan of non-combatants and live-stock could have out-distanced the invaders, could not have been very re-assuring questions, nor have I been able to find out what was to be the destination of the live-stock.

It is true that if the worst fears were realized our great-grandfathers in this district would have had some little warning, for did not the old coach road to the North pass through our town and district? and did not the old semaphore stand there on the summit above Royston Heath, waiting to lift its clumsy wooden arms to spell out the signal of the coming woe by day? By night was the pile for the beacon fire, towards which, before going to bed, the inhabitants of every village and hamlet in the valley turned their eyes, expecting to see the beacon-light flash forth the dread intelligence to answering hills in the distance! Only the simple act of striking a flint and steel by night, or lifting of the arm of the newly invented semaphore telegraph by day, seemed to separate the issues of peaceful rural life and the ruthless invasion of War! The dread was a real and oppressive one, such as we cannot possibly realize to-day!

But, amidst the fearful presages of War and Invasion, the affair had its lighter side, and provoked not a little of comedy and burlesque. In the Library of the British Museum there is an extremely interesting collection of squibs! satirical ballads, mock play-bills, &c., upon the expected appearance of Buonaparte, with caricatures by Gillray and others. In searching through such a collection, it is difficult to stay the hand in making extracts, but a few must suffice. In one the First Consul is styled "the new Moses," and there is a list of his Ten Commandments; in another there is a Catechism as to who is Buonaparte, with not very flattering answers. In others there are sketches of the imaginary entry of Napoleon with graphic scenes of pillage, &c., and again adaptations of theatrical language, such as—

"In rehearsal, Theatre Royal of the United Kingdom. Some dark, foggy night, about November next, will be attempted by a Strolling Company of French Vagrants, an Old Pantomimic Farce, called Harlequin's Invasion, or the Disappointed Banditti."

In others, M. Buonaparte was announced as Principal Buffo, "being his first (and most likely his last) appearance on the Stage!" Perhaps the best of this ephemeral literature were lines which found their way in lighter moments into the songs on our village greens; and, sung to the fine old air of the "Blue Bells of Scotland," helped for the moment to banish anxiety over some alehouse bench!

When, and O when, does this little Boney come?
Perhaps he'll come in August! Perhaps he'll stay at home;
But it's O in my heart, how I'll hide him should he come!

and so on through a number of stanzas.

But though there was a light side, out of which the humorists of the period made a market, the Napoleonic scare was no laughing matter for the poor people, who had nothing to gain and everything to lose, by even the possibility of the thing. We, who, in these peaceful times, are apt to swagger about Britannia ruling the waves, cannot perhaps realize what it meant to have this great military genius sitting down with his legions of three hundred thousand opposite our shores, keenly watching for and calculating our weakest point of defence! What should we think if, in every cottage home in this district, it was necessary, on going to bed at night, to be prepared for a sudden alarm and departure from all that was dear to us in old associations; if our little children, before retiring to rest at night, took a last look in fear and trembling to the hills above Royston Heath, where the beacon was ready to flash out the portentious news to all the country round, and asked "is it alight?"—if each little one had to be taught as regularly as, if not more regularly than, saying its prayers, to pack up its little bundle of clothes in readiness for the dread news that Boney had indeed come! Yet all this is only what really happened to our great-grandfathers in that terrible time of 1803!

It may be of interest to glance at the means taken for repelling the invader should he make his appearance. This was no mere machinery of conscription, such as under other circumstances might have been necessary, for a spirit of intense patriotism was suddenly aroused, fanned into flame by stirring ballads, such as the following, to the tune of "Hearts of Oak"——

Shall French men rule o'er us? King Edward said No!
And No said King Harry, and Queen Bess she said No!
And No said old England—and No she says still!
They will never rule o'er Us—let them try if they will!

In all parts of the country, where Volunteers and Loyal Associations had not already been formed, these sprung up with one common purpose so finely expressed by Wordsworth—

No parleying now! in Britain is one breath,
We all are with you now from shore to shore.
Ye men of Kent, 'tis Victory or death!

Even little boys in the streets, as Cruikshank has told us, formed regiments, with their drums and colours "presented by their mammas and sisters," and made gun stocks with polished broom-sticks for barrels! It is a singular circumstance and comment upon the much smaller extent to which our food supply depended upon foreign countries then than now, that, in the midst of all this perturbation and impending evil, wheat was selling in Royston market as low as 32s. per load!

Even before the eighteenth century had closed Napoleon had been suspected of designs upon England, and among the local Volunteers enrolled for service against a possible invasion, according to their numbers none were more conspicuous for public spirit than the Royston and Barkway men, enrolled under the command of the militant clergyman, Captain Shield, vicar of Royston. The following notice of the temper and disposition of the Corps and their Commander is characteristic:—

"The Royston and Barkway Loyal Volunteers, commanded by Captain Shield, have unanimously agreed to extend their services to any part of the military district in case of invasion."

The Rev. Thomas Shield, vicar of Royston, 1793 to 1808, was evidently both a courageous and patriotic townsman, for among the characteristics of him which come down to us is the statement that he would ascend the pulpit wearing his surplice over his uniform, and having finished his sermon would descend from the pulpit, slip off his surplice, and march to the Heath at the head of his company of Volunteers for drill on a Sunday afternoon! "A gallant band of natives headed by their military Vicar, the Rev. Thomas Shield, in full regimentals, and accompanied by good old John Warren, the parish clerk and music-master, as leader of the Band, marched through the streets on Sunday afternoons to the sound of the fife and the drum, and all the little boys in the place learned to play soldiers." I have been unable to verify this to the letter, but something approaching it, though not on a Sunday, took place on one memorable occasion, when the ceremony of the presentation of colours was performed in 1799, of which I give some particulars below:—

Thursday, 1st August, 1799, was a memorable day in the history of this Corps and a great day for Royston; the event being the presentation of colours to the Corps by the Honourable Mrs. Peachey, in the presence of a very respectable company. At 11 o'clock the Corps, attended by Captain Hale's troop of Hertfordshire Yeomanry, were drawn up on the Market Place, where Mrs. Peachey was accompanied by Lady Hardwicke, Lord Royston, and other noble ladies and gentlemen. Mrs. Peachey, in an elegant speech, referred to the day as the anniversary of Nelson's great Victory, and feeling sure that the Captain of the Corps would receive the colours with the elevated zeal and Christian spirit best suited to the solemnity of their consecration. Captain Shield was equal to the occasion, and in a strain of oratory in keeping with his patriotic spirit, accepted the colours in suitable terms, and, addressing the men, said:—"At a most important crisis you have stood forth against an implacable enemy in defence of everything that is dear to us as men, as members of society, and as Christians! With a reliance therefore on your zeal, with a confidence in your virtuous endeavours, I commit this standard to your care, and may the Lord of Hosts, and the God of Battles, make you firm and collected under every trial, and securely under it to bid defiance to the desperate enterprises of those who may rise up against us"!

After the ceremony of presentation the company marched to Church, where the Colours were consecrated by prayers, read by the Rev. Mr. Bargus, vicar of Barkway, and the Prebendary of Carlisle preached a powerful sermon. The local choir of fiddles and clarionets, &c., was not equal to so great an occasion, and a choir of singers from Cambridge attended, and chanted the Psalms and sang the Coronation Anthem. A cold colation given by the Rev. Captain followed, and the Volunteers marched to the Heath, where "they performed their manoeuvres and firing with great exactness." At five o'clock a company of 200 ladies and gentlemen, exclusive of the Corps, sat down to a "handsome dinner" on the Bowling Green [at the Green Man] in a pavilion erected for the purpose. Here we are told that "loyal and appropriate toasts kept the gentlemen together till eight o'clock, soon after which they joined the ladies at the Red Lion, where the evening was concluded with a very genteel ball." The old chronicle adds a curious complimentary note upon the moral and spectacular aspects of the day. "So much conviviality, accompanied with so much regularity and decorum, was perhaps never before experienced in so large a party." Two bands of music, the Cambridge Loyal Association Band, and the Royston Band, were present, and we further learn that "the number of people that were assembled in Royston on this day is supposed to be greater than is remembered on any former occasion."

The identical colours presented by Mrs. Peachey are still in existence, and are in the possession of Mr. Rivers R. Smith, whose father was a member of the band.

The above was not the only occasion upon which Captain Shield and his soldiers kept the town to the front, for, on the anniversary of the day of the presentation of colours in 1800, they wound up the century with another note of patriotic defiance of Buonaparte, by holding a field day on Royston Heath, and then, after dining together upon the Bowling Green as before, spent the evening with their guests, and wound up with "an elegant ball" at the Red Lion.

Having thus foreseen the evil day, and got together a well disciplined body of men, the Rev. Thomas Shield kept up an esprit de corps, and had frequent field days with his men on the Heath. This universal soldiering and heralding and closing the day with bugle, fife, and drum, naturally had a great effect in stirring the life of the people, but such an institution could not, any more than its modern example, exist long upon patriotism and applause.

Mr. Thomas Wortham, the treasurer to the Corps, found that the Royston people came out well with their money and equipment for repelling the invader. E. K. Fordham's name appears in the list for L25; the Rev. Thomas Shield for L10 10s., and "personal service"; William Nash L10 10s.; John and James Butler for L5 5s. each; Waresley and Fordham L5 5s.; Thomas Cockett "two stands of arms and accoutrements complete" [what kind, not specified], and others followed suit.

Royal reviews and grand hospitalities were common in the Metropolitan district, such as the Grand Review in Hyde Park, but perhaps the most memorable in which the Hertfordshire Volunteers took a part was the Grand Review of the Militia, Yeomanry, and Volunteers in Hatfield Park, on the 14th June, 1800, in the presence of the King and Queen and other members of the Royal Family, Cabinet Ministers, and a host of distinguished people, whom the Marquis of Salisbury entertained at Hatfield House with such splendid hospitality that the entertainment cost L3,000. Forty beds were made up at Hatfield House for the accommodation of visitors. The general company must have been immense, for carriages and wagons, gaily decorated, "extended in a line for three miles in length," and the scene was brightened "by the presence of the ladies wearing white dresses." The hospitality for the men under arms was on the most generous and famous scale. About seventeen hundred men sat down at 17 tables, laid out on the Western side of the House. The following is a list of the good things placed upon the tables upon that memorable occasion:—80 hams, 8 rounds of beef, 100 joints of veal, 100 legs of lamb, 100 tongues, 100 meat pies, 25 edge-bones of beef, 100 joints of mutton, 25 rumps of beef roasted, 25 briskets, 71 dishes of other roast beef, 100 gooseberry tarts, &c., &c.

The commissariat appears to have been at the "Salisbury Arms," for this part of the hospitality, where we learn that there were killed for the occasion:—3 bullocks, 16 sheep, 25 lambs.

Inside the historic building of Hatfield House the scene was worthy of the occasion too, for here, in King James' Room, King George and the Royal Family sat down to a sumptuous dinner, while the banquet for the Cabinet Ministers and others extended to 38 covers, and the whole affair engaged the services of 60 regular servants, and 60 extra waiters were employed for the occasion besides. Such a gathering inside and outside the home of the Cecils as that of 1800 has scarcely been equalled since, excepting perhaps by that of royalty in the Jubilee year of Queen Victoria in 1887.

The following was the muster of Volunteers with their captains assembled at this memorable review:—

Royston and Barkway, captain, Rev. Thomas Shield, 70 men; Hertford, Captain Dimsdale, 103; Hatfield, Captain Penrose, 77; Ware, Captain Dickinson, 76; St. Albans, Captain Kinder, 74; Hitchin, Captain Wilshere, 70; Bishop Stortford, Captain Winter, 58; Cheshunt, Captain Newdick, 48; Hunsdon, Captain Calvert, 39; and Wormley, Captain Leach, 29.

In accordance with the plan of drafting the Volunteers out for permanent duty in other districts, we find in 1804 the Royston and Barkway Corps, under command of Captain Shield, doing 23 days permanent duty at Baldock, concluded by the firing of three excellent volleys in the Market Place. Having completed this patriotic duty, they were reviewed by Colonel Cotton, and afterwards dined together on the Bowling Green, and "the day was concluded with the utmost conviviality and harmony." The Bassingbourn Corps (afterwards incorporated with Chesterton) in like manner went on permanent duty at Newmarket; an event which was followed by a review on Foxton Common by General Stewart, when, "at the end of the town they all mounted in wagons stationed there to receive them, and drew together a great part of the beauty of the town to witness the scene," and were afterwards hospitably entertained by Mr. Hurrell.

The efficiency of the men got together in defence of their homes and kindred was generally spoken highly of in the records of the times, but I am sorry to add that in one case a drummer belonging to the Royston Volunteers was tried by Court Martial and sentenced to receive 50 lashes for absenting himself without leave, but the rev. captain, though a stern disciplinarian, had a tender heart and fatherly interest in his men, for we further learn that "when the proceedings of the Court had been read to the Corps, and everything prepared for the execution of the sentence, Captain Shield the commandant, after an impressive address to the Corps and the prisoner, was pleased to remit the punishment."

Upon the subject of Volunteer marksmanship a little piece of statistical information in the British Museum, referring to the Boston Volunteers, shows the capacity of the men for hitting the target (no question of Bullseyes!) The total number of men firing was 108 and, after several rounds each, the number of men who had actually hit the target was 37, the number of those who did not hit the target 71—not quite Wimbledon or Bisley form!

Though the immediate danger of an invasion passed away by Boney having other work on his hands, the French were afterwards in evidence in a different capacity, for as many as 23,600 French prisoners were at one time maintained in different parts of England, a famous centre for them being Norman Cross, between Huntingdon and Caxton. They lingered here, now amusing their hosts with representations of Molière's plays; now making fancy articles in straw, &c., some of which are still to be found in many houses in Cambridgeshire. Companies of them were even so far indulged as to be shown over the University buildings at Cambridge previous to resuming their march through Royston, en route for Chatham and Tilbury, to be returned home to France!

At last, Buonaparte's reign of fighting seemed over, and with his retirement to Elba there was such a peace-rejoicing as comes only once or twice in a century.

Come forth ye old men, now in peaceful show,
And greet your sons! drums beat and trumpets blow!
Make merry, wives! ye little children stun
Your grandames ears with pleasure of your noise!

At Cambridge, Marshall Blucher was lionized, and here, as elsewhere, the celebrations were on a grand scale. At Royston it was one of the social land-marks of the first quarter of the century. The peace rejoicings took place here on June 29th and 30th, 1814. On Wednesday, about 12 o'clock, the Under Sheriff of the county, preceded by a band of music—and such a band of music! made up of some thirty or forty players on instruments—followed by a numerous cavalcade, proceeded first from the Bull Hotel to the Cross, and there the proclamation was first read. The procession then returned to the Market Hill, where it was read a second time, and from thence to the top of the High Street, where it was read for the last time. In the evening, "brilliant illuminations" took place with transparencies and variegated lamps. On the following day (Thursday) the bells rang merry peals, and at one o'clock about nine hundred of the inhabitants sat down to a good dinner on the Market Hill. At four o'clock the gentlemen and tradesmen sat down to an excellent luncheon on the Bowling Green at the Green Man Inn, after which many appropriate toasts were given by the chairman, Hale Wortham, Esq. At intervals the Royston Band, "who very politely offered their services," played some popular pieces. To conclude the day's festivities, a ball was given at the Assembly Room at the Red Lion. I believe the only person now living who remembers sitting down to that famous dinner on the Market Hill is Mr. James Jacklin, who was then a very little boy with his parents.

The rejoicings were unbounded and images of "Boney" were carried about in almost every village on donkeys or men's shoulders, and afterwards burned on the village green. No one dreamed that Waterloo was still in store, but alas it soon appeared as if all this patriotic eloquence, and peace rejoicing, would have to be unsaid, for in a short time there came the alarming news that Napoleon had escaped from Elba and was returning to France! He did return, and so did Wellington! Waterloo was fought and won, but, the English people having, as the Americans say, been a little too previous with their rejoicings over Elba, made less of the greatest battle of the century than they might otherwise have done.

So passed away a figure which had troubled the peace and conscience of Europe for a generation, the tradition of whose expected advent on our shores did for many a year after discolour the pages of our country life, like some old stain through the leaves of a book, and the old Bogie which frightened children in dame schools only disappeared with the Russian scare which set up the Russian for the Frenchman in Crimean days.

CHAPTER VII.

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

By the fireside, in health and disease, and in the separations and contingencies of family life, we must look for the drawbacks which our great-grandfathers had to put up with during that remarkable period which closed and opened the two centuries, when great changes ever seemed on the eve of being born, yet ever eluded the grasp of the reformer. What a sluggish, silent, nerveless world, it must have been as we now think! On the other side of the cloud, which shut out the future, were most of the contributories to the noisy current of our modern life—from express trains and steam hammers to lucifer matches and tram cars! Steel pens, photographs, postage stamps, and even envelopes, umbrellas, telegrams, pianofortes, ready-made clothes, public opinion, gas lamps, vaccination, and a host of other things which now form a part of our daily life, were all unknown or belonged to the future. But there were a few other things which found a place in the home which are not often met with now—the weather-house (man for foul weather and woman for fine)—bellows, child's pole from ceiling to floor with swing, candlestick stands, chimney pot-hook, spinning wheel, bottle of leeches, flint gun, pillow and bobbins for lace, rush-lights, leather breeches, and a host of other things now nearly obsolete. In the better class houses there was a grandfather's clock, and possibly a "windmill" clock, but in many villages if you could not fix the time by the sun "you might have to run half over the village to find a clock."

One of the primal fountains of our grandfathers' domestic comforts was the tinder-box and flint and steel. Without this he could neither have basked in the warmth of the Yule-log nor satisfied the baby in the night time. But even this was not sufficient without matches, and, as Bryant and May had not been heard of, this article was made on the spot. In Royston, as in other places, matches were made and sold from door to door by the paupers from the Workhouse, by pedlars driving dog carts, or by gipsies, and the trade of match-makers obtained the dignified title of "Carvers and Gilders." At by-ways where a tramp, a pedlar, or a pauper, did not reach, paterfamilias, or materfamilias, became "carver and gilder" to the household, and made their own matches. In one case I find the Royston Parish Authorities setting up one of the paupers with a supply of wood "to make skewers and matches to sell."