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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

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