THE ENGLISH VILLAGE
By A. G. STREET
" MARY, why is there no string in the left-hand drawer of the kitchen dresser ? The string's always been kept there." So I heard a man speak to his sister-in-law the other day. He was a farmer's son who had left .the farm some forty-odd years before. He had spent his life in London ; he was a father and a grand- father ; but when he came back to the old home for a holiday he became a boy once again. Forgotten were his business success and the splendours and comforts of his town life. Such things were all very well, but, quite unconsciously, he looked upon the farm-house and its. surroundings as the one really permanent thing in his life. Consequently he felt aggrieved to find that this stable thing had let him down even in so small a matter as a change in the hiding-place of that useful article, a piece of string.
Now, while the lady in question has my whole-hearted sympathy, that incident seems to me to illustrate the real value of the village, a thing which can best be described in one word, permanence. Here is something which until recently had remained almost unaltered in essentials by the passing of time, simply and solely _because its purpose had not changed. One cannot shut, a farm at a certain hour as one can shut a shop or a .factsry- , and therefore those who work on the land mustlive. on the land, or, at least, very near the scene of their daily labours. It was to house these folk that the English village, a small cluster of dwellings, workshops, and farm-buildings, was built, and, as long as this remained its main purpose, village life continued almost unchanged by the march of civilization.
Many years ago the horseman with his pillion-rider passed occasionally through the village. Then came the stage coach and the post-chaise. With the coming of the railway these visitors disappeared, and folk said that the village was as good as dead. This proved untrue, for its purpose was just the same as before. Visitors might come and go, but the land remained, unaltered. So, while the nation's transport ran on metal rails and the old roads were deserted, the village folk fanned their land, ran their mill, enjoyed their sport and pleasures, and worshipped in their church in placid content. They Were a self-contained community. They had no wish to inter- fere with the outside world ; neither did they want the outside world to interfere with them.
Then, came the motor-car, . and with its coming .the village soon became conscious that its isolation was a thing of the past. At first its inhabitants looked upon this new invention as just one more innovation4'vrhich would affect their : lives but little. The blacksmith condescended to stock some petrol and to mend punctures, and the inn-keeper began to cater for the passing motorist. But today the whole purpose of the village is changing rapidly. Now farming is becoming a sideline, and the main business of the village seems to be either catering for the needs of the town visitor or enabling the village dweller to visit the town by the quickest method of transport.
Does this change mean the finish of the village ? I do not think so, but I think that it means the end of village life as it has existed through previous -history. Today only a small minority of village 'dwellers are concerned with farming. • The majority either work in the nearest town, work in the village for the town visitor, or are townsfolk who have retired to the village to end their day's:, Village 'cricket and football are dying, almost' dead:- WhoWants to play either when he Can visit the town .quite easily to watch first-class players ? Village concerts and other entertainments have lost much of their appeal now that the town cinema is within easy reach ; and the churches and chapels 'are emptying before the competition of the seaside which the charabanc has brought so close. That is Where the present state of things differs greatly from any which have' preceded it. Machinery has reamed the number of people required for farming and at the 'same time increased the population of the village. In my opinion the future will accentuate this. Further discoveries of the'scientist and the inventor will un- doubtedly mean still -quicker transport and still less man-power in farming. More and more people will work in the town but 'live in the village, which, as a result, will lose its separate entity. It will cease to be a village—it' will be merely a suburb-of the town.
Optimists look forWard to this. They say that, with farming reduced to a trivial detail of the nation's life, a job to be performed. by many machines' and a few human beings working very short hours, village life will be altogether splendid, that the present differences (Continued on page 799, after Literary Supplenu.nt) between townsfolk and countryfolk will disappear for the good of both parties, and that the village, of the future will possess the advantages of both town and country and the disadvantages of neither. Maybe their dream will come true, but, if it does, it means the finish of the English village as it has existed from time .
In every big change which occurs mankind both gains and loses. In this change it is easy to see the gains— better housing, better lighting, better education, better water-supplies, modern sanitation, easy access to the arts and entertainment ; in fact, a broader life for the villager in which he will enjoy almost every amenity and comfort possible to the town dweller. The losses are more difficult to state, because, if the gains are almost entirely material, the losses must be largely of a non-material nature. They can best be summed up by ,saying that village life will have lost its permanence and its indi- viduality. Future architects may design beautiful thatched cottages for the new village, but their purpose will be different. Instead of the cottage being something erected for use in the land's service it will be merely a house in which to live, and- that difference cannot be measured in words. In short, the new village will be more important than the land around it, while the old village must have grown naturally from :the land like the trees and hedgerows and crops. So, being a naturally conservative countryman, I cannot help regretting the present upheaval of something which I thought to be permanent. I find it difficult to comfort myself with the thought that modern invention has bestowed fluidity on rural society with one hand. when I am conscious that with the other it. has robbed village life of its one-ti I .lability. Somehow, although I cannot put it into word.. I knoW that the background of a village upbringing Nome forty years ago is a very valuable thing today to anyone who was fortunate enough to experience it, even though the recipient may have left the village to earn his living in the town. Such a man can live in a flat in an imthense town building quite happily, while he knows that his home village remains unchanged. But, if the progress of civilization alters not only the place where the string is kept, but also the personnel and even the structure of his village, he will feel that there is nothing secure in his whole world, for I have a notion most townsmen realize that without it prosperous countryside in the background the modern town would cease to be.
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