“Mr Squir, sur,

“Me & Farmer Field & the rest of the genelmen In vestri sembled Thinks the parson want parish Relif in shape of A Grindstun orgin betwin Survisses—­i am to grind him & the sundy skool kildren is to sing to him wile he Gos out of is sete.

     “We liv It to yuresef wart to giv as we dont wont to limit
     yur malevolens

     “Your obedunt servunt

     “DAVY DIGGS.”

Of course this worthy scribe taught the children in the school, though writing was happily considered a superfluous accomplishment.  He taught little beyond the Church Catechism and the Psalms, which he knew from frequent repetition, though he often wanted to imbue the infant minds entrusted to his charge with the Christening, Marriage, and Burial Services, and the Churching of Women, because he “know’d um by heart himself.”

The barrel-organ was scarcely a great improvement upon the “cornet, flute, sackbut, psaltery”—­I mean the violins, ’cellos, clarionets, and bassoons which it supplanted.  The music of the village musicians in the west gallery was certainly not of the highest order.  The instruments were often out of tune, and the fiddle-player and the flutist were often at logger-heads; but it was a sad pity when their labours were brought to an end, and the mechanical organ took their place.  The very fact that all these players took a keen interest in the conduct of Divine service was in itself an advantage.

The barrel-organ killed the old musical life of the village.  England was once the most musical nation in Europe.  Puritanism tried to kill music.  Organs were broken everywhere in the cathedrals and colleges, choirs dispersed and musical publications ceased.  The professional players on violins, lutes, and flutes who had performed in the theatres or at Court wandered away into the villages, taught the rustics how to play on their beloved instruments in the taverns and ale-houses, and bequeathed their fiddles and clarionets to their rustic friends.  Thus the rural orchestra had its birth, and right heartily did they perform not only in church, but at village feasts and harvest homes, wakes and weddings.  The parish clerk was usually their leader, and was a welcome visitor in farm or cottage or at the manor when he conducted his companions to sing the Christmas carols.

The barrel-organ sealed the fate of the village orchestra.  The old fiddles were wanted no more, and were hung up in the cottages as relics of the “good old times.”  For a time the clerk preserved his dignity and continued to take his part in the music, turning the handle of the organ.

Then the harmonium came, played by the school-mistress or some other village performer.  No wonder the clerk was indignant.  His musical autocracy had been overthrown.  At one church—­Swanscombe, Kent—­when, in 1854, the change had taken place, and a kind lady, Miss F——­, had consented to play the new harmonium, the clerk, village cobbler and leader of parish orchestra, gave out the hymn in his accustomed fashion, and then, with consummate scorn, bellowed out, “Now, then, Miss F——­, strike up!”