While the war dragged on, changes in agriculture and industry threw increasing numbers of people out of work, so that by 1811 John Blackner in Nottingham despaired of the situation: ‘Such was the reduced state of trade of this town, that half-famished workmen, belonging to almost every branch of its principal manufacture, were constrained to sweep the streets for a paltry support. They were employed by the overseers of St. Mary’s parish, because the workhouse was too full to receive their families, and other employment could not be found.’93
Many were drawn to London in the hopes of improving their fortune, so that the city had increasing numbers of paupers and beggars on the streets – some literally scraped a living like the ‘grubbers’:
[They] procure a livelihood by whatever they find in grubbing out the dirt from between the stones with a crooked bit of iron, in search of nails that fall from horse-shoes, which are allowed to be the best iron that can be made use of for gun-barrels: and though the streets are constantly looked over at the dawn of the day by a set of men in search of sticks, handkerchiefs, shawls &c. that may have been dropt during the night, yet these grubbers now and then find rings that have been drawn off with the gloves, or small money that has been washed by the showers between the stones. These men are frequently employed to clear gully-holes and common sewers, the stench of which is so great that their breath becomes pestilential.94
Everyone pinned their hopes on the wars ending, but, as William Darter noted, improvements did not actually materialise for everyone: ‘Cheap bread we did not get, and John Bull had to pay the piper…At this time the working classes were suffering great privations, as there was very little call for their services, and provisions of all kinds were very dear.’95 From 1814 when Napoleon was exiled and again in 1815 after Waterloo, thousands of soldiers and sailors were laid off. Unemployment rose sharply, and attempts to drive down wages caused unrest, as The Times reported in August 1816:
What is denominated a strike has…taken place amongst the wool-sorters, who at the present rate of wages can earn from 3l. to three guineas a week. The masters wished to reduce the rate of wages one-third, on account of the reduction which has taken place in their prices, and to enable them to meet the foreign market. This proposition the men refused to accede to; and the masters, not being able to give more, many of them standing still, whilst the men, in consequence of their own obstinacy, are many hundreds of them become burdensome to their respective parishes, together with their families. Would it not be well, whilst so many thousands are out of employ and starving, or burdensome to their parishes from absolute want of employment, that parish officers should make inquiry and refuse to relieve all such as might have work and refuse to do it.96
The hardships of the labouring classes and the destitute poor are well documented in the works of Charles Dickens and other Victorian writers. Caused by wars, industrialisation and enclosure of the countryside, these hardships were approaching their worst by the end of Jane Austen’s lifetime, with people literally starving in the streets:
Saturday last, a poor fellow, about thirty years of age, was going through Stoke Newington in search of employment, and being weak through hunger and want, sat down at the gate of Mr. Hugh’s house, where he was found by the porter in an expiring state. On being questioned he was unable to answer anything, but that he was dying. He was taken inside the gate and some victuals offered to him, but he was too far gone to use any; he took half a glass of water and expired.97
EIGHT
LEISURE AND PLEASURE
One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.
Emma, by Jane Austen
Leisure was a luxury available only to those with time and money. Most working people had little opportunity for entertainment, and although his wages with a tailor were good, Thomas Carter thought the cost was high:
I would gladly have taken three shillings per week less in wages, if thereby I could have escaped from the pressure of that incessant, and to me exhausting toil…especially in so hot and otherwise unhealthy a place as is a tailor’s workshop, in which I was confined for full twelve hours per day, the hours of working being from six o’clock in the morning until seven o’clock in the evening, one hour only being subtracted for dinner.1
For servants, apprentices, manual workers and many others, long hours were normal. The concept of the two-day weekend did not exist; the weekend was simply ‘the end of the working week’, usually just Sunday. Similarly, there were no long holidays, only ‘holy days’, the original meaning of the word. The poet Robert Southey, when writing in the guise of a foreign traveller, said that the English ‘reproach the Catholic religion with the number of its holidays, never considering how the want of holidays breaks down and brutalizes the labouring classes’.2
Skilled workers, notably those on piecework, were accustomed to more generous free time. Many did only as much work as necessary, and according to the historian William Hutton in 1795, ‘if a man can support his family with three days labour, he will not work six’.3 These workers added Monday to their ‘weekend’ (and sometimes Tuesday and Wednesday too), a state of affairs so widespread that it was known as ‘Saint Monday’. A satirical definition appeared in Francis Grose’s dictionary of slang: ‘SAINT MONDAY. A holiday most religiously observed by journeymen shoemakers, and other inferior mechanics. A profanation of that day, by working, is punishable by a fine, particularly among the gentle craft.’4 Such chaotic working practices were condemned, not least by religious campaigners against alcohol consumption who believed that workers spent all this free time drinking to excess.
But not everyone considered the concept of Saint Monday harmful. Francis Spilsbury, a London chemist who wrote about illnesses such as gout and scurvy, was of the opinion that exercise and fresh air were beneficial to health, while bad air and working indoors were detrimental:
In this view it may be doubted whether there is so much room for censure of a celebrated saint, so often idolized by the labouring mechanic…for through an attention to sacrifice at his shrine on his festival day, many of the workmen are enabled to hold out much longer than they otherwise would do (particularly in some manufactories which are very inimical to health) provided they could abstain from partaking so freely of the libations generally poured out at their revels on SAINT MONDAY.5
The ‘lower orders’ were expected to work inordinately long hours, and live-in servants were given minimal freedom. In September 1805 one maidservant in William Holland’s household was allowed to attend the fair at nearby Nether Stowey, but failed to return on time:
Kitty did not come till nine o’clock which her mistress [his wife Mary] resented much as she had ordered her to be back from the fair by six. John came a little after nine which was very well for him, being a man. Kitty was at the Globe in very good company as she says. However her mistress did not think a Publick House so proper for her and was angry and the girl inclined to be saucy, but my wife does not mean to give way to her.6
In the face of ongoing changes in industry and agriculture, many fairs were losing their original function, such as the hiring fairs where the labour exchange element was disappearing. Instead, fairs concentrated much more on entertainment, though some retained their cattle and produce markets. Nelly Weeton described the anticipation before Wigan’s fair in 1816:
The town is going to be in a great bustle this week; for the fair commences tomorrow [23 May], on which occasion, it is usual for everybody to clean their houses thoroughly, to white-wash, paint, &c.; the confectioners begin of baking for the fair a week beforehand; and the shop-keepers to polish, and set their wares, in the neatest order; large caravans enter the town with wild beasts, monsters, and jugglers; likewise wooden horses, whirligigs, gambling tables, barrel organs, fiddlers, and hordes of beggars.7
Some two decades earlier, Johnson Grant was less enthusiastic about a fair he encountered: ‘We set out for Leeds, where we found a fair in the market-place; a horrible scene of tygers roa
ring, organs grinding, trumpets sounding, blackguards bellowing and thronging, together with the effluvia of fish from the market, and every combination of attack upon the senses.’8 Urban fairs like Wigan and Leeds were more sophisticated than rural ones, which perpetuated simple, traditional and sometimes barbaric entertainments. The Reading Mercury in June 1789 carried an advertisement for the annual country fair known as the Yattendon Revel:
THIS is to give notice, that Yattendon Revel will be kept as usual, on Friday the 10th of July next, and, for the encouragement of gentlemen gamesters, and others, there will be given a good Gold-Lac’d Hat, of 27s. value, to be played for at Cudgels; the man that breaks most heads to have the prize; 2s. will be given to each man that positively breaks a head, for the first ten heads that are broke; and 1s. to the man that has his head broke; but the man is not to receive the 2s. unless he gets up and plays the ties off; the blood to run an inch or be deemed no head.9
The revel’s second day also featured long-established pastimes:
July the 11th, Will be given, Half-a-guinea to be run for by Jack Asses; the best of three heats. No less than three will be allowed to start. Also will be given, a fine Holland Smock to be run for by women; the best of three heats. No less than three will be allowed to start. Also, a Gold-Lac’d Hat, of 27s. value, to be played at Cudgels for…Likewise, Tobacco to be Grinn’d for, by old women, through a horse collar, as usual.10
The austere times were having an effect on some celebrations, and in Oxfordshire four years earlier, in the summer of 1785, John Byng lamented the decline of familiar traditions: ‘A book of antient customs says – “That at Burford was a yearly procession of great jollity on midsummer eve; when a painted dragon, and a painted giant were carried about the town in commemoration of a battle won by the Saxons near this place”:– But all such exhibitions are lost in the poverty and distress of the lower people; and a fair is now no more than a larger market.’11
Other customs were dying out for different reasons. Royal Oak Day on 29 May, later known as Oak Apple Day, marked the restoration in 1660 of Charles II after the Civil War. Now that the Hanoverian dynasty had superseded that of the Stuarts, this day of festivity was largely confined to Jacobite sympathisers, who regarded the Hanoverians as usurpers. Byng was therefore surprised to find Derby preparing a large celebration in 1790: ‘Here every house was adorn’d with oaken boughs in honor of the old 29th of May; and the boys preparing and begging for their bonfires.’12
Apart from regular fairs and revels, special events such as the frost fairs were an excuse for merriment. In the bitterly cold winters the River Thames in London would freeze over so hard that it was safe to walk on, as happened in January the previous year:
No sooner had the Thames acquired a sufficient consistency than booths, turn-abouts, &c. &c. were erected; the puppet-shews, wild beasts, &c. were transported from every adjacent village; while the watermen, that they might draw their usual resources from the water, broke the ice close to the shore, and erected bridges, with toll-bars, to make every passenger pay a halfpenny for getting to the ice. One of the suttling booths has for its sign, ‘Beer, Wine, and Spiritous Liquors, without a License.’ A man who sells hot-gingerbread has a board, on which is written, ‘No Shop Tax nor Window Duty’…the Thames is generally crowded.13
The very last frost fair took place in February 1814. Never again would the Thames freeze so solidly once the old London Bridge was removed in 1831, after which the flow of the river improved.
Other celebrations were inspired by pleasing news about royal events or military victories, although sometimes the expressions of jubilation were hardly spontaneous, as William Darter saw in his home town of Reading:
This year [1811] brought us intelligence of a victory, gained by Wellington over Soult in the Peninsula, and in consequence another illumination occurred of greater splendour than the last, as the inhabitants had by this time become accustomed to these demonstrations, and had provided themselves with appliances for lighting up, which they had not before. I may also mention that many of them had their sense of loyalty somewhat quickened by having their windows broken when they were not illuminated.14
Darter also enjoyed the start of each new year in Reading, when the military forces joined in:
It was customary on New Year’s Eve for the ringers of St. Lawrence’s parish to ring a few peals of changes and leave the bells up on their stays, and some time before midnight to return. At the same time the Militia Band assembled at the upper part of London Street, and all was still, until the moment St. Lawrence’s clock began to strike twelve, when off went the merry peal of eight bells, and at the same moment three loud strokes of the big drum led off the Berkshire Band down London Street to the Market Place, and from thence through a portion of the town.15
The ringing of church bells was the dominant sound in towns and countryside, with few other noises able to compete. Even in Darter’s old age, the bells at new year remained a happy childhood memory: ‘Seventy-one years have elapsed since I first experienced the magic effect of this music of the band and the merry peal of St. Lawrence’s bells breaking out in the stillness of midnight, suggesting that the old year had passed away, and welcoming the dawn of its successor. After a short interval, the old watchman, Norcroft, went up London Street, calling out “Past twelve and a starlight mornin’.”16
Blood sports were regularly enjoyed by all classes. The baiting of dogs, badgers, bulls, cockerels and other animals was legal, though bear-baiting had died out because the wars with the Continent had stopped the supply of bears. Cock-fighting was often carried on at public houses throughout England, and some had purpose-built cock-pits. In March 1772, when living at Ansford in Somerset, James Woodforde noted: ‘Brother John came to the Parsonage this evening merry…He had been to Evercreech, cock-fighting and won there six or seven guineas by betting.’17
Bull-baiting provided a more impressive spectacle, and Darter detailed one occasion at Wokingham in Berkshire:
It was St. Thomas’ Day [21 December], which was dark, damp and foggy…Very soon a stir occurred amongst the people, and they ran in all directions out of the way of a fine young bull, which was on his way to the Market Place. When the animal arrived he was fixed to a ring which was attached to an oak post level with the ground. The bull had about five yards of chain, and at first dashed about and tried to get his liberty; this had the effect of making the people rush against each other, and many of them tumbled down in the mud.18
Dogs were then set upon the tethered bull, along with active participation from the crowd:
Soon arose a cry of ‘A lane, a lane’; this was for the people to form a narrow avenue leading up to the bull, which was quickly done…and then a man holding a bull-dog between his knees would let him slip and run up the ‘lane’ to catch hold of the bull’s nose, which, if he succeeded, would pin his head down, and this would be called ‘pinning the bull’. In this case, the dog, which I heard was brought from Staines, ran at the animal who instantly caught him on his horns and threw him high in the air. The people immediately closed together to catch him, or probably his neck would have been broken.19
The bull continued to be tormented until it was finally taken to the slaughterhouse and killed, only to be replaced by another bull. Darter found the whole event depressing: ‘Then the men, most of whom had been quarrelling, took to fighting…Taking the affair altogether, a more brutalising scene could not well be conceived.’20 By 1802 the baiting of animals had fallen so far from favour with the ruling classes that a bill for abolishing bull-baiting was presented to Parliament. Despite vigorous support it was defeated, largely for fear of public opposition at a time when the threat of revolution loomed. It was not until 1835 that the baiting of animals for entertainment was outlawed.
Wealthier sportsmen concentrated on hunting, shooting and fishing (with nets as well as rods). The abundant wildlife, far more prolific than today, posed a real threat to crops, so there was a practical side to the
se sports, and only the hunting of foxes failed to produce something edible. Jane Austen wrote of one of her brothers: ‘Edward is no enthusiast in the beauties of nature. His enthusiasm is for the sports of the field only…He and George [Knight] are out every morning either shooting or with the harriers. They are good shots.’21 Few people were bothered about the preservation of wildlife, though occasionally some concerns were raised, like Holland’s observation during deep snow in Somerset in early January 1802: ‘What terrible weather this is for all kind of birds, no food to be found, any where. And man, cruel man adding to their calamity but hunting after their lives in every quarter, the whole region resound with pops and explosions.’22
Woodforde was an enthusiastic supporter of shooting, fishing and hare-coursing. On a visit to his native Somerset in the summer of 1789 he fished several times in the River Brue at Cole where he was staying, catching numerous trout and eels, which were eaten for dinner. On one successful day, he recorded: ‘I spent most of the day a fishing, caught a brace of trout and three eels.’23 Other days were less productive: ‘Was out fishing almost the whole day but had no sport whatever – never caught a fish.’24 Hare-coursing might be undertaken almost casually if a hare was spotted, but usually men set out deliberately to hunt for them. Woodforde frequently recorded his hare-coursing activities in Norfolk:
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