the days of my life-第3章

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o　swift　oblivion；　since；　even　if　it　were　all　equally　good；　in　the　crowded　days　that　are　to　e；　days　even　more　crowded　than　our　own；　posterity　will　not　need　much　of　the　work　of　any　individual。　If　he　is　remembered　at　all　it　will　be　by　but　a　few　books。　The　present　question　is；　What　chance　have　I　of　being　so　remembered；　and　I　can　only　hope　that　my　belief　in　the　vitality　of　at　any　rate　some　of　my　books　may　be　justified。
As　it　happens　with　reference　to　this　question　of　the　possible　endurance　of　my　work；　I　am　in　the　position　of　having　a　second　string　to　my　bow。　Years　ago　I　turned　my　attention　to　agriculture　and　to　all　the　group　of　problems　connected　with　the　land。　First　I　wrote　“A　Farmer’s　Year。”　My　object　in　piling　that　record　—　which；　if　I　live；　I　hope　to　amplify　some　day　by　the　addition　of　a　second　volume　on　the　same　plan　—　was　that　in　its　pages　future　generations　might　see　a　picture　of　the　conditions　under　which　agriculture　was　practised　in　England　at　the　end　of　the　nieenth　century。
Afterwards　I　attempted　something　much　more　ambitious；　namely；　a　full　account　of　agricultural　and　social　researches　carried　out　during　the　years　1901　and　1902；　which　was　published　under　the　title　of　“Rural　England。”　To　be　frank；　this　description　is　perhaps　a　little　too　inclusive；　seeing　that　all　England　is　not　described　in　the　multitudinous　pages　of　my　book。　It　deals；　however；　with　twenty…seven　counties　and　the　Channel　Islands；　or　one　more　than　were　treated　of　by　Arthur　Young　a　century　or　so　earlier。　After　this　prolonged　effort　exhaustion　overtook　me；　and　I　retired　to　spend　an　arduous　year　or　so　in　classifying　and　writing　down　my　experiences。　Even　now　I　have　not　abandoned　the　hope　of　dealing　with　the　remaining　counties；　and　after　these　with　Wales；　Scotland；　and　Ireland；　but　at　my　present　age　I　feel　that　it　grows　a　little　faint。　The　work　is　too　tremendous　and；　I　may　add；　too　costly；　since　what　can　be　earned　from　the　sale　of　such　volumes　will　not　even　suffice　to　pay　their　expenses　and　that　of　the　necessary　journeys。
Still　I　hope　that　my　work　may　help　to　show　to　posterity　through　the　mouths　of　many　witnesses　what　was　the　state　of　the　agriculture　and　the　farmers　of　England　at　the　mencement　of　the　twentieth　century。　I　trust；　therefore；　that　should　my　novels　be　forgotten　in　the　passage　of　years；　“Rural　England”　and　my　other　books　on　agriculture　may　still　serve　to　keep　my　memory　green。
Now　I　will　close　this　introduction　and　get　to　my　story。　I　fear　that　the　reader　may　think　it　all　somewhat　egotistical；　but　unfortunately　that　is　a　fault　inherent　in　an　autobiography；　and　one　without　which　it　would　be　more　or　less　futile。
Ditchingham：
August　10；　1911。
Chapter　1　CHILDHOOD
Danish　origin　of　the　Haggards　—　Early　history　in　Herts　and　Norfolk　—　H。　R。　H。‘s　father　and　mother　—　His　birth　at　Bradenham；　Norfolk　—　Early　characteristics　—　First　school　—　Garsington　Rectory；　Oxon；　and　Farmer　Quatermain　—　Lively　times　at　Dunkirk　—　Adventure　at　Treport　—　Cologne　—　His　uncle　Fowle。
There　has　always　been　a　tradition　in　my　family　that　we　sprang　from　a　certain　Sir　Andrew　Ogard；　or　Agard；　or　Haggard　（I　believe　his　name　is　spelt　in　all　three　ways　in　a　single　contemporaneous　document）；　a　Danish　gentleman　of　the　famous　Guildenstjerne　family　whose　seat　was　at　Aagaard　in　Jutland。
About　a　year　ago　I　visited　this　place　while　I　was　making　researches　for　my　book；　“Rural　Denmark。”　It　is　a　wild；　wind…swept　plain　dotted　with　tumuli　dating　from　unknown　times。　There　by　the　old　manor　house　stand　the　moated　ruins　of　the　castle　which　was　burnt　in　the　Peasant’s　War；　I　believe　when　Sir　Andrew’s　elder　brother　was　its　lord。　Here　the　Guildenstjerne　family　remained　for　generations　and　in　the　neighbouring　church　their　arms；　which　are　practically　the　same　as　those　we　bear　today；　are　everywhere　to　be　seen。
This　Sir　Andrew　was　a　very　remarkable　man。　He　appears　to　have　e　from　Denmark　with　nothing　and　to　have　died　possessed　of　manors　in　eleven　English　counties；　besides　much　money　and　the　Danish　estate　which　he　seems　to　have　inherited。2　Also　he　distinguished　himself　greatly　in　the　French　wars　of　the　time　of　Henry　VI；　where　he　held　high　mand　under　the　Duke　of　Bedford；　whose　executor　he　subsequently　became。　Moreover；　he　did　not　neglect　his　spiritual　welfare；　since；　together　with　his　father…inlaw；　Sir　John　Clifton；　he　erected　one　of　the　towers　of　Wymondham　Church；　in　which　he　is　buried　on　the　north　side　of　the　high　altar；　and　bequeathed　to　the　said　church　“a　piece　of　the　True　Cross　and　a　piece　of　the　Thorns　of　the　Crown。”
2　See　Carthew’s　History　of　West　and　East　Bradenham；　pp。　87…89。
I　regret　to　have　to　add　that　there　is　at　present　no　actual　proof　of　the　descent　of　my　family　from　this　Sir　Andrew。　Among　the　other　manors　that　he　possessed；　however；　was　that　of　Rye　in　Hertfordshire；　where　our　arms　are　still　to　be　seen　over　the　gateway　of　Rye　House；　which　he　appears　to　have　built；　that　afterwards　became　famous　in　connection　with　the　celebrated　Rye　House　Plot。
The　Haggard　family　reappears　at　Ware　within　a　few　miles　of　the　Rye　House　in　the　year　1561；　in　the　person　of　a　churchwarden　and　freeholder　of　the　town；　which　suggests　that　he　was　a　citizen　of　some　importance。　At　Ware　they　remained　for　about　150　years。　To　this　I　can　testify；　for　once　finding　myself　in　that　town　with　an　hour　to　spare　I　went　through　the　registers；　in　which　the　name　of　Haggard　occurs　frequently。　One　member　of　the　family；　I　recollect；　had　caused　a　number　of　his　children　to　be　baptised　on　the　same　day；　Oct。　28；　1688；　though　whether　this　was　because　he　suddenly　became　reconciled　to　the　Church　after　a　period　of　alienation；　or　is　to　be　accounted　for　by　a　quarrel　with　the　clergyman；　I　cannot　tell。　Or　had　the　civil　wars　anything　to　do　with　the　matter？
Subsequently　the　family　moved　to　Old　Ford　House；　St。　Mary　Stratford…le…Bow；　where；　I　believe；　they　owned　property　which；　if　they　had　kept　it；　would　have　made　them　very　rich　today。
I　recollect　my　father　telling　me　a　story　of　how　one　of　them；　I　think　it　must　have　been　John　Haggard　who　died　in　1776；　my　great；　great；　great…grandfather；　sold　the　Bow　property　and　moved　to　Bennington　in　Hertfordshire　because　of　a　burglary　that　took　place　at　his　house　which　seems　to　have　frightened　him　very　much。　His　son；　William　Henry；　settled　in　Norwich；　and　is　buried　in　St。　John’s　Maddermarket　in　that　city。　His　only　son；　also　named　William　Henry；　my　great…grandfather；　after　living　a　while　at　Knebworth；　Herts；　bought　Bradenham　Hall　in　this　county　of　Norfolk。　It　would　seem；　oddly　enough；　that　Bradenham　once　belonged　to　old　Sir　Andrew　Ogard；　or　Agard；　in　right　of　his　wife；　but　whether　this　circumstance　had　or　had　not　anything　to　do　with　its　purchase　by　my　great…grandfather　I　cannot　say。
His　son；　William　Haggard；　like　some　others　of　the　family；　was　concerned　in　banking　in　Russia；　and　in　1816　married　a　Russian　lady；　the　eldest　daughter　and　co…heiress　of　James　Meybohm　of　St。　Petersburg。　My　father；　William　Meybohm　Rider　Haggard；　was　the　eldest　child　of　this　union。　He　was　born　at　St。　Petersburg　April　19；　1817；　and　in　1844　married　my　mother；　Ella；　the　elder　daughter　and　co…heiress　of　Bazett　Doveton；　of　the　Bombay　Civil　Service；　who　was　born　at　Bombay　in　June　1819。
I　am　the　eighth　child　of　the　family　of　ten　—　seven　sons　and　three　daughters　—　who　were　born　to　my　father　and　mother。　As　it　chanced　I　first　saw　the　light　（on　June　22；　1856）；　not　at　Bradenham　Hall；　which　at　the　time　was　let；　but　at　the　Wood　Farm　on　that　property　whither；　on　her　return　from　France；　my　mother　retired　to　be　confined。　A　few　years　ago　I　visited　the　room　in　which　the　interesting　event　took　place。　It　is　a　typical　farmhouse　upper　chamber；　very　pleasant　in　its　way；　and　to　the　fact　of　my　appearance　there　I　have　always　been　inclined；　rather　fancifully　perhaps；　to　attribute　the　strong　agricultural　tastes　which　I　believe　I　alone　of　my　family　possess。
Here　I　will　tell　you　a　little　story　which　shows　how　untrustworthy　even　contemporary　evidence　may　be。　On　the　occasion　of　this　visit　I　was　acpanied　by　a　friend；　Sir　Frederick　Wilson；　and　his　niece；　who　were　anxious　to　see　my　birthplace。　Now　near　to　the　Wood　Farm　at　Bradenham　stands　another　farm；　which　for　some　unknown　reason　I　had　got　into　my　head　to　be　the　real　spot；　and　as　such　I　showed　it　to　my　friends。　When　I　had　finished　a　farmer；　the　late　James　Adcock；　who　was　standing　by　and　who　remembered　the　event；　ejaculated：
“What　be　you　a…talking　of；　Mr。　Rider？　You　weren’t　born　there　at　all；　you　were　born　yinder。”
“Of　course；”　I　said；　“I　remember；”　and　led　the　way　to　the　Wood　Farm　with　every　confidence；　where　I　showed　the　window　of　the　birth…chamber。
As　I　was　doing　so　an　old　lady　thrust　her　head　out　of　the　said　window　and　called　out：
“Whatever　be　you　a…talking　of；　Mr。　Rider？　You　weren’t　born　in　this　’ere　room；　you　were　born　in　that　room　yinder。”
Then　amidst　general　laughter　I　retired　disfited。　Such；　I　repeat；　is　often　the　value　of　even　contemporary　evidence；　although　it　is　true　that　in　this　case　James　Adcock　and　the　old　lady　were　the　real　contemporary　witnesses；　since　a　man　can　scarcely　be　expected　to　remember　the　room　in　which　he　was　born。
It　seems　that　I　was　a　whimsical　child。　At　least　Hocking；　my　mother’s　maid；　a　handsome；　vigorous；　black…eyed；　raw…boned　Cornishwoman　who　spent　most　of　he