Some Observations Upon the Civilization of the Western Barbarians, Particularly of the English / made during the residence of some years in those parts.

by John B. Swazey

In winter it is cold, and the whole appearance changes. Far to the North, the sun gives but little light—and, like the climate of our provinces by the great Northern Wall, the cold is severe, and the gloom deeper. Ice is formed upon the streams and canals, and snow frequently covers the ground.

In approaching great towns, you often catch glimpses of the crowded, wretched streets, where misery only thrives. In some places, in the winter cold, smoke and darkness, life becomes intolerable to many. Out of doors you can hardly find your way, and thieves and beggars emerge from covert to ply their trades. In the night, at such times, it is only possible to move by the glare of many torches; and people are often robbed, or bewildered and lost. At this season of darkness many go mad. There is a strong vein of horror in the Barbarian imagination, derived from their ferocious ancestors, from their old idolatries, and deepened by the new. In the gloom, the misery, the wretchedness—sometimes in sheer disgust of life—many rush upon self-destruction—throwing themselves under the wheels of the steam-chariots, and from the bridges into the canals and rivers. Many persons are thrown down, maimed or killed in the highways, by horses or by vehicles moving along. Yet, in the grim humour of these barbarians, this is the very time when the High-Castes begin their revelries, and the Low-Castes most indulge in drink and riot.

In travelling through the country, you will occasionally notice, seated upon an eminence, some strong Castle, or Place, of hewn stone, belonging to a High-Caste. It will be approached through long avenues of lofty trees, and stand pre-eminent among fine groves, surrounded by broad lands. These wide Parks contain many thousands of acres [met-si], left untilled and unproductive; merely with their green slopes and spaces, interspersed with trees, to give grandeur to the Castle and its Lord. Still, if you look closely, you will discover near by, the squalid huts where huddle the Serfs, who are starving in the midst of this rich profusion—Serfs, who never have an inch [toe] of land of their own, and to whose wornout carcases is begrudged a pauper grave!

The inequality between Castes is quite as conspicuous in country as in town. One is born to an abundance, the other to hunger; one to a life of self-indulgence, the other to one of enforced and hard-worked self-sacrifice. The one, at last, is covered by a tomb, emblazoned with Honour; the other is cast into an obscure corner of despised dead, to rot in forgetfulness—though, often, judged upon a true measure of merit, the resting-places should be exchanged—and the idle and vicious Lord [chiang-se] descend into ignominious neglect!

You will see deer, pheasants, partridges, hares, and the like, almost tame, in the meadows and copses; but the tillers of the soil must not touch them, though starving—they are carefully preserved for the Lord [Tchou]. Not that he needs them, or cares for them for food—sometimes he likes to shoot them for idle diversion!

You will notice sturdy tramps (beggars) resting, or lazily slouching along by the ways, with heavy staves in their hands; and, if you suddenly come upon these in a secluded place, very likely you will be accosted—"Master, I be'se hungry—will ye give me tuppence?" You do not like the bearing of the man—and would not notice him. But you observe his face and the clutch of his thick stick—and you hurry to hand him a sixpence, and get away! These scamps prowl about, idle, ready for mischief, scornful of honest work—the terror of women and children who meet them, unexpectedly, without protection.

Sometimes the Iron-roads for Steam-chariots are carried over the housetops, in entering towns; sometimes, through long tunnels under the houses, or under hills—and the works in connection with these roads are surprising. The Barbarians of the Low-Castes are forced to incessant labours, to prevent starvation. These must be greatly directed to mines of iron, coal, copper, and tin; and to various things made from these, and from wool and cotton. For the fruits of the land cannot feed the population. The amount of food which must be brought from beyond seas is very great—and to pay for this, the products of industry must be given. Now, other Barbarian tribes make these things also, and; having them, do not require the English; in fact, in more distant parts, undersell them. From this cause, many are unemployed and turned adrift—they have no land to till; they beg, steal, and starve. Should this inability of the English Barbarians increase, there would be no sufficient employment for the Low-Castes—there would not be the means of paying for the food required—and depopulation must ensue! The wealth of the High-Caste must shrink—the English tribe must decline in strength!

Many of the High-Caste, already anticipating danger to themselves—fearing not merely loss of revenue, but the savage ferocity of starving multitudes—promote schemes by which large numbers of the poor are shipped off far beyond the great Seas (so that they never shall return)—to starve, or live, as may chance. "England is well rid of them!" they say.

In the neighbouring island, Ireland, an actual starvation of the people in vast numbers happened a short time since. As in England, the poor serfs, tilling the soil and owning none; at the best, toiling for the High-Castes for such pittance as would buy the cheapest food—potatoes; when these failed, could buy nothing—all else too dear. These failed, the serfs died by thousands and tens of thousands. Not because Ireland was destitute of food; such was the abundance that ample stores were actually sold for other and distant tribes! but because, in the midst of plenty, the starving were powerless to touch it; it was out of their reach—out of the reach of paupers! The potatoes were not—and they must die. The annals of no people record such a depopulation of a fertile land, in the midst of peace and plenty—there is no parallel! A people dying, not from idleness, nor unwillingness to work; not from want of food at hand; not from the ravages of war, nor pestilence; but from sheer poverty! Yet, the English Barbarians boast that no people are so rich, so generous! In our own annals are recorded great sufferings from floods, failures of crops, and natural causes; where our vast populations have been for a time deficient in food; but we have nothing to compare with this Barbarian horror!