4: Wiltshire where George Baster first appears

According to John Murray in his book A handbook for travellers in Wiltshire, Dorsetshire, and Somersetshire (1859), the people were of stalwart proportions, of courteous demeanour, with a strong dialect, were descended from a race of shepherds and were of a pastoral character. Their bacon was excellent and their beer acid. The countryside was open in character, with an absence of trees and the air was bracing and pure. The cottages and farm buildings were picturesque, and the inns were comfortable. Perhaps these days we would not offer such a patronising and all inclusive view of a people who, after all, not only had brrn givrn little opportunity for education but, for religious reasons and the Civil War, may well have moved around a bit. This brief all inclusive assessment of the county however gives us a view of a county which, despite the arrival of the railway, was still extremely picturesque at the time of Murray’s writing. It is a pity that apart from the occasional references one finds to almshouses bring set up, church events, and details of the running of the estates of the landed gentry, one rarely finds details of everyday life or events of the labourers and workers in these small villages and hamlets. In our particular case, Shalbourne lay off the main routes to large towns or cities. These small villages, unless something quite exceptional happened, the 'doings' were hardly mentioned in recordss, leaving us to assume they were places which the world passed by. Perhaps the inhabitants were grateful for this for it allowed them to carry on in their traditional way of life. However villages cut off from the world did tend to get left behind and the changes were slow. The Wansdyke runs along part of the north-western parish boundary of Shalbourne. This is a large bank with a deep ditch in front, running from the Avon valley south of Bristol, over Morgan's Hill near Devizes to the Savernake Forest. It is believed to have once been a linear defensive earthwork which ran for about 45 miles and was, at one time. the boundary between Mercia and the West Saxons. Leland, who was born at the beginning of the 16th century, mentions Shalbourne ‘From Bedwine a good mile to Chauburne village. [Going out of Chalburne I passed over a little stream called Chauburne water.] The true name whereof as I gesse should be Chaulkeburne for it riseth and rinneth in chalky ground. It riseth a little above the village, and levith it on the right ripe, and so going about 2 miles lower resortith either into Bedwine water, or els by itself goeth into the Kenet river.’ Since Shalbourne was virtually ignored in historical or topographical books, it appears it was a quiet unimportant little village which, by today’s standards at any rate, almost existed in a vacuum, as did so many rural villages. However within these villages the inhabitants knew each other and those who lived in the nearby villages; sometimes these were family members, friends or distant relations, employers or employees, associates and acquaintances, or they were recognised by sight from their appearance at local markets, fairs and inns, for people met while socialising during religious events such as baptisms, marriages and burials. Villagers travelled further afield to earn a living and while they may not have done it often, they sometimes travelled some distance from their home parish, often marrying someone from another parish; if this jad not been the case villages would have become very inbred. We only have to study the marriage registers to find proof of young men and women from different parishes marrying. Often sons who found themselves in competition with several male siblings, had to travel further afield in order to set themselves up in the same trade, or find work or a bride. There are many instances of Baster brothers moving to Inkpen, Froxfield, Marlborough, Devizes, Calne, Newbury and even Essex and London in the Baster family. His son George went to live and work as a weaver in Ham; his grandson (also George) raised his family in Inkpen, where the river Aubourn rises to form the boundary between Berkshire and Hampshire. Nearby is the highest point on the chalk downs, Inkpen Beacon, which stands at 1011 feet, or thereabouts. All these places were familiar to George and it is more than likely that he often climbed up to the Beacon to view the pleasant scene around and where to the north-west he would have seen the Savernake Forest and to the south-east the woods at Highclere. Hungerford, the ancient market town in the Kintbury-Eagle hundred of Berkshire, saw many people passing through on their way to Marlborough, Bath, Swindon, Bristol, Newbury, Reading and London, some 64 miles distant. No doubt there were many occasions when George, being a weaver, had business in the town. Regular markets were held there which would have provided him with a useful outlet for the cloth he had to sell. He was well thought of and trusted and knew some of its residents, and he may also have attended the fairs  held three times a year. There were also other events held regularly in the town which he may have attended. Hocktide at Easter, when the town celebrated its connections with John of Gaunt, and the Hungerford Revel which was attended by residents from all the villages around. Only one account has been found for the Revel and it gives details of a number of organised events which took place, at least three of which appear to have been extremely cruel to animals. Different times, different mores! A letter dated October 20th 1826 appeared in The Every-day book and table book: or, Everlasting calendar of popular amusements etc by William Hone which gave a picture of this event which the writer had seen in 1820 and which, in one form or another, had been taking place for many years. ‘I think it may be generally allowed that Wiltshire, and the western counties, keep up their primitive customs more than any counties. This is greatly to the credit of the inhabitants; for these usages tend to promote cheerful intercourse and friendly feeling among the residents in the different villages, who on such occasions assemble together. In Wiltshire I have remarked various customs, particularly at Christmas, which I have never seen or heard of in any other place. If these customs were witnessed by a stranger, I am sure he must fancy the good old days of yore, where every season brought its particular custom, which was always strictly adhered to. Wiltshire consists of beautiful and extensive downs, and rich meadow and pasture lands, which support some of the finest dairies and farms that can be met with in the kingdom. The natives are a very strong and hardy set of men, and are particularly fond of robust sports; their chief and favourite amusement is back-swording, or singlestick, for which they are as greatly celebrated as the inhabitants of the adjoining counties, Somersetshire and Gloucestershire. At this game there are several rules observed. They play with a large round stick, which must be three feet long, with a basket prefixed to one end as a guard for the hand. The combatants throw off their hats and upper garments, with the exception of the shirt, and have the left hand tied to the side, so that they cannot defend themselves with that hand. They brandish the stick over the head, guarding off the adversary's blows, and striking him whenever an opportunity occurs. Great skill is often used in the defence. I have seen two men play for upwards of half an hoar without once hitting each other. The blood must flow an inch from some part of the head, before either party is declared victor. Blackford, the backsword player, was a butcher residing at Swindon; he died a few years ago. His "successor" is a blacksmith at Lyddington, named Morris Pope, who is considered the best player of the day, and generally carries off the prizes at the Hungerford revel, which he always attends. This revel is attended by all the best players in Wiltshire and Somersetshire, between whom the contest lies. To commence the fray, twenty very excellent players are selected from each county; the contest lasts a considerable time, and is always severe, but the Wiltshire men are generally conquerors. Their principal characteristics are skill, strength, and courage—this is generally allowed by all who are acquainted with them. But Hungerford revel is not a scene of contention alone, it consists of all kinds of rustic sports, which afford capital fun to the spectators. They may be laid out thus— 1st. Girls running for "smocks," &c, which is a well-known amusement. at country fairs. 2d. Climbing the greasy pole for a piece of bacon which is placed on the top. This affords very great amusement, as it is a difficult thing to be accomplished. The climber, perhaps, may get near the top of the pole, and has it in his power to hold himself up by both hands, but the moment he raises one hand to unhook the prize, he is almost sure to slide down again with great rapidity, bearing all below him who are so foolish as to climb after him. 3d. Old women drinking hot tea for snuff. Whoever can drink it the quickest and hottest gains the prize. 4th. Grinning through horse-collar. Several Hodges [typical English agricultural labourers) stand in a row, each holding a collar; whoever can make the ugliest face through it gains the prize. This feat is also performed by old women, and certainly the latter are the most amusing. 5thi. Racing between twenty and thirty old women for a pound of tea. This occasions much merriment, and it is sometimes astonishing to see with what agility the old dames run in order to obtain their favourite. 6th. Hunting a pig with a soaped tail. This amusement creates much mirth, and in my opinion is the most laughable.— Grunter with his tail well soaped is set off at the foot of a hill, and is quickly pursued; but the person who can lay any claim to him must first catch him by the tail, and fairly detain him with one hand. This is an almost impossible feat, for the pig finding himself pulled back, tries to run forward, and the tail slips from the grasp of the holder. It is pretty well known that such is the obstinate nature of a pig, that on being pulled one way he will strive all he can to go a contrary. In illustration of this circumstance, though known perhaps to some of your readers, I may mention a curious wager a few years ago between a pork butcher and a waterman. The butcher betted the waterman that he would make a pig run over one of the bridges, (I forget which,) quicker than the waterman would row across the river. The auditors thought it impossible; the bet was eagerly accepted, and the next day was appointed for the performance. When the signal for starting was given, the waterman began to row with all his might and main, and the butcher catching hold of the tail of the pig endeavoured to pull him back, upon which the pig pulled forward, and with great rapidity ran over the bridge, puUin; the butcher after him, who arrived on the opposite tide before his opponent. 7th. Jumping in sacks for a cheese An excellent caricature of jumping in sacks, published by Hunt, in Tavistock-street, conveys a true idea of the manner in which this amusement is carried on: it is truly laughable. Ten or eleven candidates are chosen ; they are tied in sacks up to their necks, and have to jump about five hundred yards. Sometimes one will out-jump himself and fall; this accident generally occasions the fall of three or four others, but some one, being more expert, gets on first, and claims the prize. About ten years ago, before Cannon the prize-fighter was publicly known, as a native of Wiltshire he naturally visited the Hungerford revel. There was a man there celebrated over the county for boxing; it was said that with a blow from his fist he could break the jaw-bone of an ox; upon the whole he was a desperate fellow, and no one dared challenge him to fight. Cannon, however, challenged him to jump in sacks. It was agreed that they should jump three times the distance of about five hundred yards. The first time Cannon fell, and accordingly his opponent won; the second time, Cannon's opponent fell, and the third time they kept a pretty even pace for about four hundred yards, when they bounced against each other and both fell, so that there was a dispute who had won. Cannon's opponent was for dividing the cheese, but he would not submit to that, and proposed jumping again; the man would not, but got out of the sack,and during the time that Cannon was consulting some friends on the course to be pursued, ran off with the cheese. Cannon, however, pursued, and after a considerable time succeeded in finding him. He then challenged him to fight: the battle lasted two hours, and Cannon was victor. This circumstance introduced him to the sporting world. You must allow me, dear sir, to assure you, that it is not my wish to make your interesting work a " sporting calendar," by naming "sporting characters." I tell you this lest you should not incline to read further, especially when you see 8th. Donkey Racing. I will certainly defy any one to witness these races, without being almost convulsed with laughter. Each candidate rides his neighbour's donkey, and he who arrives first at the appointed place claims the prize, which is generally a smock-frock, a waistcoat, a hat, &c. &c. 9th. Duck Hunting. This sport generally concludes the whole : it is a very laughable, but certainly a very cruel amusement. They tie a poor unfortunate owl in an upright position, to the back of a still more unfortunate duck, and then turn them loose. The owl presuming that his inconvenient captivity is the work of the duck, very unceremoniously commences an attack on the head of the latter, who naturally takes to its own means of defence, the water: the duck dives with the owl on his back; as soon as he rises, the astonished owl opens wide his eyes, turns about his head in a very solemn manner, and suddenly recommences his attack on the oppressed duck, who dives as before. The poor animals generally destroy each other, unless some humane person rescues them. Like all other Wiltshire amusements, the Hungerford revel always closes with good humour and conviviality; the ale flowing plentifully, and the song echoing loud and gaily from the rustic revellers. Although the revel is meant to last only one day, the very numerous attendant keep up the minor sports sometimes to the fourth day, when all depart, and Hungerford is once more a scene of tranquility. The revel takes place about this time of the year, but I really cannot call to my recollection the precise day. Hoping, however, that this is of no material consequence, I beg to remain, etc. It is also interesting to read William Cobbet‘s views of the area some years later, since he mentions some of the places the Basters once lived when he was travelling through the county with his friend George. Monday, October 2 1826: From Swindon we came up into the down country ; and these downs rise higher even than the Cotswold. We left Marlborough away to our right, and came along the turnpike-road towards Hungerford, but with a view of leaving that town to our left, further on, and going away, through Ramsbury, towards the northernmost Hampshire hills, under which Burghclere (where we now are) lies. We passed some fine farms upon these downs, the houses and homesteads of which were near the road. My companion, though he had been to London and even to France, had never seen downs before; and it was amusing to me to witness his surprise at seeing the immense flocks of sheep which were now (ten o'clock) just going out from their several folds to the downs for the day, each having its shepherd, and each shepherd his dog. We passed the homestead of a farmer Woodman, with sixteen banging wheat-ricks in the rick-yard, two of which were old ones; and rick-yard, farm-yard, waste-yard, horse-paddock, and all round about, seemed to be swarming with fowls, ducks, and turkeys, and on the whole of them not one feather but what was white! Turning our eyes from this sight, we saw, just going out from the folds of this same farm, three separate and numerous flocks of sheep, one of which (the lamb -flock) we passed close by the side of. The shepherd told us that his flock consisted of thirteen score and five; but, apparently, he could not, if it had been to save his soul, tell us how many hundreds he had: and, if you reflect a little, you will find that his way of counting is much the easiest and best. This was a most beautiful flock of lambs; short legged, and in every respect, what they ought to be. George, his companion, though born and bred amongst sheep-farms, had never before seen sheep with dark-coloured faces and legs; but his surprise, at this sight, was not nearly so great as the surprise of both of us at seeing numerous and very large pieces (sometimes 50 acres together) of very good early turnips, swedish as well as white! All the three counties of Worcester, Hereford and Gloucester (except on the Cotswold) do not, I am convinced, contain as great a weight of turnip bulbs as we here saw in one single piece ; for here there are, for miles and miles, no hedges and no fences of any sort. Doubtless they must have had rain here in the months of June and July; but as I once before observed (though I forget when) a chalk bottom does not suffer the surface to burn, however shallow the top soil may be. It seems to me to absorb and to retain the water, and to keep it ready to be drawn up by the heat of the sun. At any rate the fact is that the surface above it does not burn; for there never yet was a summer, not even this last, when the downs did not retain their greenness to a certain degree , while the rich pastures, and even the meadows (except actually watered) , were burnt so as to be as brown as the bare earth. This is a most pleasing circumstance attending the down-countries; and there are no downs without a chalk bottom. Along here the country is rather too bare : here, until you come to Auborne, or Aldbourne, there are no meadows in the valleys, and no trees, even round the homesteads. This, therefore, is too naked to please me; but I love the downs so much that, if I had to choose, I would live even here, and especially I would farm here, rather than on the banks of the Wye in Herefordshire, in the vale of Gloucester, of Worcester, or of Evesham, or even in what the Kentish men call their "garden of Eden." I have now seen (for I have, years back, seen the vales of Taunton, Glastonbury, Honiton, Dorchester and Sherbourne) what are deemed the richest and most beautiful parts of England; and if called upon to name the spot which I deem the brightest and most beautiful and, of its extent, best of all, I should say the villages of North Bovant and Bishopstrow , between Heytesbury and Warminster in Wiltshire; for there is, as appertaining to rural objects, everything that I delight in. Smooth and verdant downs in hills and valleys of endless variety as to height and depth and shape; rich corn-land, unencumbered by fences; meadows in due proportion, and those watered at pleasure; and, lastly, the homesteads, and villages, sheltered in winter and shaded in summer by lofty and beautiful trees; to which may be added roads never dirty and a stream never dry. When we came to Auborne, we got amongst trees again. This is a town and was, manifestly, once a large town. Its church is as big as three of that of Kensington. It has a market now, I believe; but I suppose it is, like many others, become merely nominal, the produce being nearly all carried to Hungerford . . . A little after we came through Auborne, we turned off to our right to go through Ramsbury to Shallburn, where Tull, the father of the drill-husbandry, began and practised that husbandry at a farm called "Prosperous." Our object was to reach this place (Burghclere) to sleep, and to stay for a day or two; and as I knew Mr. Blandy of Prosperous, I determined upon this route, which, besides, took us out of the turnpike-road. We stopped at Ramsbury, to bait our horses. It is a large and, apparently, miserable village, or "town" as the people call it. Having established the layout of the area and the character of the people, we turn to the time from 1640.