The Real Country: Paintings of life in the countryside
If you have any interest in rural history, you may have noticed how few of its accounts are illustrated. There are extensive quotations from written accounts of life in the country, farming practice, and figures gleaned from the analysis of surveys and wills, but no pictures. Yet in the centuries before photography came into widespread use, artists recorded landscapes and life in the countryside in paint. This article introduces a new series in which I’m going to look at the reality of life and work in the country using some of its finest depictions.
In 1500, the countries in Europe were overwhelmingly rural, with about 80% of their people living in the countryside and engaged almost entirely in agricultural work. By the end of the nineteenth century that had reversed, with 80% living and working in cities and towns. Working the land was physically arduous with only the aid of manual tools, oxen and horses. Injuries were common and seldom received any medical attention, and for most life was brief.
The first agricultural revolution brought the transition from hunting for and gathering food to cultivating crops and raising livestock. This brought annual events such as the grain harvest, shown above in Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s The Harvesters (1565), which forms a complete visual reference to all the work involved in creating flour from a ripe cereal crop.
While men wielded large scythes to mow some crops, others were cut with the sickle shown in Jules Breton’s Song of the Lark (1884). This young woman is walking barefoot through the fields on her way to start another day harvesting the grain she and her village relied on to keep them from starvation.
Old Testament accounts of the underprivileged surviving by gleaning what’s left after the landowner had brought in their harvest continued well into the twentieth century. This is Léon Augustin Lhermitte’s account from 1887. In many areas, though, gleaning was a common essential for everyone.
Crop yields in the past were far lower than they are today. There was no understanding of soil fertility, crop rotations led to poor soil quality, and most land was too wet for the primitive ploughs in use. It was often necessary to plough the same land five or more times in a year to eradicate weeds and achieve worthwhile crop yields. In Jean-François Millet’s Angelus, completed around 1857-59, a destitute couple are seen praying over their small basket of potatoes, as they try to eke a living from that pitifully poor soil.
Some problems remain the same, although their solutions are now quite different.
George Morland’s Ratcatchers from 1793 shows a couple of itinerant workers with the dogs they used to catch vermin such as rats, the man on the left holding up one of their successful catches.
Our ancestors determined the landscapes we see today. In much of England, this has been attributed to the appropriation of what had been common land, for large farms operated by the land-owning classes, in what’s known as enclosure.
The whole countryside changed, as previously open land used for communal grazing was enclosed and turned into farmland. John Crome captures this in this painting of Mousehold Heath, Norwich (c 1818-20), showing the low rolling land to the north-east of the city, which had been open heath and common land until the late eighteenth century. By 1810, much of it had been enclosed, and ploughed up for agriculture.
Crome opposed the enclosure of common land, and here shows the rich flora, free grazing, and, for the plains of East Anglia, rolling countryside. In the right distance some of the newly created farmland is visible as a contrast. Fortunately, almost two hundred acres (74 hectares) of this heath have been preserved, but it had been considerably more extensive until 1790.
Agricultural practices have left other marks in our landscapes. In parts of England and Wales, there are two types of countryside, those drawn with straight lines and others featuring curves. These are even seen in roads, which follow old field boundaries. In some areas the roads are generally straight, but in others they wiggle all over the place, like a drunken man.
Sir William Nicholson’s view from The Hill above Harlech, painted in about 1917, looks across the broad sweep of sand in Tremadoc Bay towards the distant Lleyn Peninsula, in North Wales. Much of the land seen here is divided up into small fields by well-maintained hedges, and there’s hardly a straight line to be seen until you get down to the coastal plane.
One of the major reasons for all these curves is ploughing.
Robert Bevan’s The Turn Rice-Plough, Sussex from about 1909 shows two ploughmen turning a plough in a field in the south-east of England. Its title is probably a simple error for turnwrest, a dialect name used in Kent and Sussex to describe any type of one-way plough which needed to be turned at the end of a furrow as shown here. Because of this need to turn, the ploughman’s course was far from straight, but usually traced a gentle reversed S. To enable this team of horses to turn at the top of the furrow, they steered to the left before swinging to the right in the arc that would bring them on course for the furrow heading back down the slope.
When those ploughed strips were enclosed by hedges, their edges were curved with their furrows. In time, tracks ran along those hedges, and in the nineteenth century they were turned into roads, which now twist and turn as they run past those old furrows.
In the nineteenth century, the first signs of mechanisation arrived, using either horses or steam for power.
Albert Rigolot’s painting of The Threshing Machine, Loiret from 1893, shows a fine example of horses being used to thresh the grain from freshly cut cereal. One of the early uses for steam engines was to power similar machines, and the next step was to make those engines mobile under their own power, as traction engines and eventually tractors.
When heavy steam traction engines were replaced by tractors with internal combustion engines, teams of oxen and horses were replaced by these new-fangled vehicles. Heinrich Vogeler’s Farmer Ploughing from the period 1930-42 shows a tractor with its own tracks towing a heavy plough. I doubt whether even the most visionary farmworker of the sixteenth century imagined what was to come.
I hope that you will join me in this series over the coming weeks.