Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Storytelling and Market Research A Practical User Guide 1St Edition C Frederic John Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF
Storytelling and Market Research A Practical User Guide 1St Edition C Frederic John Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF
https://ebookmeta.com/product/practical-sql-a-beginners-guide-to-
storytelling-with-data-2nd-edition-anthony-debarros/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/practical-sql-a-beginner-s-guide-
to-storytelling-with-data-2nd-edition-anthony-debarros-2/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/practical-sql-a-beginner-s-guide-
to-storytelling-with-data-2nd-edition-anthony-debarros/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/a-best-practice-guide-to-sex-and-
storytelling-filming-scenes-with-sex-and-nudity-1st-edition-john-
bucher/
Research Proposals A Practical Guide 2nd Edition Martyn
Denscombe
https://ebookmeta.com/product/research-proposals-a-practical-
guide-2nd-edition-martyn-denscombe/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/practical-doomsday-a-user-s-guide-
to-the-end-of-the-world-1st-edition-michal-zalewski/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/how-to-do-research-a-practical-
guide-to-designing-and-managing-research-projects-3rd-edition-
nick-moore/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/user-journey-mapping-visualize-
user-research-brainstorm-opportunities-and-solve-problems-1st-
edition-stephanie-walter/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/business-research-a-practical-
guide-for-students-5th-edition-jill-collis/
Storytelling and Market Research
I was not surprised but nevertheless amazed by the level and volume of
erudition Fred John reveals. This could . . . should . . . truly become The
Textbook for the advanced course in research and insights leadership.
There will not remain a doubt or question left unanswered in the path to
effective presentations. If only we all could have had this course and these
learnings way back then.
—Alan Grabowsky, President, ABACO Marketing
Research Brazil/USA
C. Frederic John
First published 2022
by Routledge
605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158
and by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2022 C. Frederic John
The right of C. Frederic John to be identified as author of this
work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77
and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted
or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic,
mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented,
including photocopying and recording, or in any information
storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trade-
marks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identifi-
cation and explanation without intent to infringe.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: John, C. Frederic, author.
Title: Storytelling and market research : a practical user guide /
C. Frederic John.
Description: New York, NY : Routledge, 2022. | Includes
bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021023617 (print) | LCCN 2021023618
(ebook) | ISBN 9781032064871 (hardback) | ISBN
9781032064857 (paperback) | ISBN 9781003202516 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Marketing research. | Business communication. |
Business presentations. | Storytelling.
Classification: LCC HF5415.2 .J5695 2022 (print) | LCC HF5415.2
(ebook) | DDC 658.8/3—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021023617
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021023618
ISBN: 978-1-032-06487-1 (hbk)
ISBN: 978-1-032-06485-7 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-003-20251-6 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781003202516
Typeset in Sabon
by Apex CoVantage, LLC
Contents
Introduction 1
A Human Condition 1
Getting Down to Business 1
The Need to Evolve 5
The original impetus to write this book was a much more modest goal,
namely, to address the semantic confusion surrounding the word “story”
in the business arena by clarifying the various ways the term was being
used. I had thought of this as an article or perhaps a presentation.
Somehow the scope expanded as I decided to include ideas about the
inherent power of story and storytelling and how these could be harnessed
by market researchers and other communicators of analytic learning. In
this process, I drew on material I had developed for training workshops,
webinars, and other activities over the past dozen years or so.
My first foray into these topics occurred when I developed a profes-
sional training program for the global MasterCard research team that
included some sessions on making more compelling reports and presenta-
tions, which led, inevitably, to the art of storytelling.
Much of my approach to creating more dynamic research deliverables
is derived by posing a simple question: What can we learn from the arts,
not just storytelling? Many art forms tell or imply stories, and in general
are far more successful in engaging the audience than we usually are as
conveyers of research findings. Are there elements that we can borrow,
not only from literature and non-fiction writing but also from drama,
cinema, painting, music, and dance?
Many of the answers relate to structure and can be applied to both
our written reports and live presentations. The art of storytelling itself
presents numerous other aspects that we can adopt as we seek to engage
our client audiences and, critically for us, impact their decision-making.
The general approach advocated in this book, along with the underly-
ing concepts, the content itself, the case histories and examples provided,
and the selections of readings cited are my own for which I take full
responsibility. I am also responsible, of course, for any mistakes con-
tained in the book, and for these I do apologize.
At the same time, the book has greatly benefitted from many people
who have contributed to my professional development over the years as
well as from those who provided invaluable guidance to improving the
manuscript. To all of them I am truly grateful. I can only cite a few here.
Preface and Acknowledgments xi
Note
1. David L. Smith, The High Performance Customer Insight Professional: How
to Make Sense of the Evidence, Build the Story and Turn Insights Into Action
(UK: Amazon, 2019).
Introduction
A Human Condition
Stories make us human. We encounter them in infancy and con-
tinue to experience them throughout our lives. Stories enable us to
learn, to teach, and to share memories, personal experiences, hopes,
dreams, fantasies, religious ideas, morality, and much more. They con-
nect us to the past, define our present, and shape our future. They
permeate all the arts, including literature from folktales to novels,
non-fiction, drama, opera, dance, paintings, and sculpture.
Moreover, our own lives comprise stories. While a few ambitious
(or daring) individuals write autobiographies or memoires, most of us
describe specific experiences, verbally or in writing or even through pic-
tures to our friends or associates on a regular basis.
The demand is often fed by clients and other end users frustrated with
traditional deliverables and seeking something that feels more relevant,
actionable, or just enjoyable.
Despite the increasing volume of demand and efforts to meet them, there
is little uniformity in terms of meaning. Those demanding more “story”
and “storytelling” often mean quite different things, which can lead to
confusion among those charged to respond, as well as unmet expecta-
tions among those making the demands.
Audiences
This book has been written in response to the current pursuit of story in
business. While the primary audience is the market research profession,
the book is really intended to serve all those who generate or analyze any
kind of information for business purposes.
• For the sake of brevity, the text most often speaks of “market
researchers,” but this term is meant to encompass a far larger group
of investigators, analysts, and information interpreters.
In addition, the book is addressed to all those who commission or use research
or other forms of data, or who make decisions based on these learnings. For
these audiences, especially those calling for “more story” in their received
deliverables, appreciating the multiple meanings of the term can avoid the
semantic misunderstandings that currently lead to unfortunate disconnects.
And an enhanced appreciation for the compelling nature of story—and
storytelling—can lead to a far better utilization of these deliverables.
Semantic Confusion
An initial objective of this volume is to resolve some of semantic confu-
sion swirling around the term “story.” Currently, there are four distinct
meanings attributed to this word. The first two are often used to answer
the question, “So, what’s the story?”
Clearly, these aspects are related, especially the frst three. A report or
presentation is often a narrative whose primary purpose is to convey the
essence of what has been uncovered in a research project, analysis of sales
fgures, or other rigorous exercise.
1. Many reports do not identify the essence of what has been learned,
but are more recitations of specific findings, data dumps from which
no overarching or deeper meanings emerge.
2. The recitations themselves are deadly dull, lacking not only a direc-
tional focus or clear organizational structure but any style that
engages the reader or listener.
In the frst case, the audience, often the executive (the client) who com-
missioned the study or who needs the learning to make a decision, is left
to fgure out what it all really means and draw conclusions on his or her
own. In the second case, the client needs to combat boredom and struggle
to absorb the narrative.
All of these steps—knowing what is truly new and what is truly insight-
ful, how to pull these together to draw meaningful conclusions, what the
resultant real-world implications of this learning are, and what to recom-
mend as decisions based on what has been learned—demand much more
than a command of the research or other analytic tools involved. They
presume the following:
These are often areas of knowledge in which research and analytic staff
are often lacking.
Our Challenge
How can you possibly make a recommendation without knowing the
present position of a brand, what its competitors are doing, how that
particular sector operates, and what trends may be reshaping it?
And how can you possibly expect a client or other business owner to
accept your recommendations, no matter how solid your analysis and
insightful your conclusions, if you don’t know these things?
Introduction 5
But within the world of business, investigations and analyses are under-
taken in order to support decision-making. And in many cases, even when
the fndings are inconclusive, a decision still must be made, in which case
the learning may primarily serve as a risk assessment.
The accuracy and relevance of the learning may even be more impactful
in the business setting than in the academic, even if factors such as budget
and time constraints prevent the most thorough exploration possible to
yield the best information. And so, the very pillars of our profession carry
even greater weight when we serve business decision-makers.
A Personal Perspective
My personal perspective is that the research profession’s attempts over the
past few decades to reinvent their role, most often by anointing themselves
as consultants, insights gurus, or strategic counselors, are misdirected and
Introduction 7
have largely failed. Why? Because they have not focused on the one aspect
of their work which their clients really care about—the deliverable.
The purpose of this volume is to address these issues head on, to identify
where we fall down on the job and how to dramatically improve our
performance. The focus is ultimately on the deliverable, and the solution
proposed is the incorporation of storytelling elements into our reports
and presentations.
The book combines this new approach to communicating research
learning along with concrete, practical ways for its realization. This guid-
ance ranges widely from suggested language that can be inserted into a
report to ways in which to organize the entire document.
Since the basic principles are derived from storytelling as found in mul-
tiple cultural expressions, I have also cited a fair number of examples
drawn from literature and the other arts which I encourage the reader to
pursue when time allows.
Throughout the text, I have also inserted self-exercises under the rubric,
“Your Turn.” These are intended to encourage you to think about and
internalize some of the learning from the preceding sections. They also
provide an opportunity for an interactive exchange with the material.
I have also provided brief descriptions as headers for each chapter to
help you navigate the volume, and summaries at the end of each chapter
as reminders of what you have just learned.
*******
Before entering the world of business, it is necessary to step back and
clarify just what makes stories such a powerful form of communication. The
first chapter therefore focuses on story as narrative, stories that are told, read,
acted out, sung, or communicated in some other art form to an audience.
Only in understanding the specific characteristics that infuse story
with such emotional force that engages our attention can we learn how
to emulate these models in the reports and presentations that ultimately
are our final deliverables.
Chapter 1
Stories Everywhere
The range of narratives that fall under the story rubric is huge, from
simple children’s books and fairy tales to folk tales, short stories, novels,
and sagas, as well as diaries, news and magazine articles, and histories.
We tend to divide narratives between two distinct groups:
• Those that accurately relate events that really happened, such as his-
tory, biography, and journalism, that we call non-fiction.
• Those that make no such claim, what we call fiction.
But there are numerous gray areas in between, such as historical fction,
that blend real events with those that are purely the invention of the
author. And many other depictions of real events often need to “fesh
out” the historical record with dialogue, possible encounters between
characters, and frequently the imagined thoughts of historical fgures.
Fables and the like provide another type of hybrid form that combines
clearly fictional elements but are intended to communicate an underlying
truth. Aesop’s fables conjure up talking animals, but the moral at the end
is intended to teach something truthful about morality, human nature, or
life in general.
The parables of Jesus serve the same purpose. Did the prodigal son
really exist? It hardly matters; the story is simply a means to reveal a
moral principle.
Even communications that are not strictly narratives, such as text-
books or volumes devoted to the sciences, often weave in stories to get a
point across. For example, a brief history of how a certain principle was
discovered (such as Newton and the apple) may be cited in the context of
presenting the principle of gravity.1
10 The Fundamental Power of Story
• “Betty has seven eggs, and she plans to sell them for 12 cents apiece . . .”
• “Two trains 100 miles apart start heading toward each other on
parallel tracks. One is going 40 miles per hour, the second 60 miles
per hour . . .”
Story = Sharing
At its foundation, story is a form of sharing, of one person or a group
imparting information, ideas, experiences, values, or real or imaginary
happenings to an audience. By its very nature, story is a bonding experience
that can transcend not only cultures but also centuries because they touch
the primal nature of our humanity.
It is often said that a story can “transport” us to a distant time and
place, and enable us to respond emotionally:
be found in many vocal genres, from folk and art songs to oratorios and
opera.
Even fairly static images, such as portraits, still lifes, or outdoor scenes,
can evoke a sense that there is a story lurking behind or beyond the can-
vas. A Renaissance portrait might lead you to ask:
it here: https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/wivenhoe-park-ssex/
vAG0ovJU1U65Rw?hl=en
Your Turn
Take a few moments to consider your own immersion in stories. In
many cases, these may be so imbedded in your experience that you
are hardly conscious of them. Here are a few ways you can become
more aware of how stories have impacted your life:
Suspension of Disbelief
This is one of the most powerful aspects of story—it’s ability to sepa-
rate us from the real world and transport us to another realm that may
resemble reality to various degrees, but is inherently different.
Surrounded by Boundaries
Stories, and in fact almost all art forms, are surrounded by virtual
“boundaries.” Penetrating these boundaries signals our passage from one
14 The Fundamental Power of Story
SIMPLE BOUNDARIES
Let’s consider the most basic boundary that both surrounds and leads us
into every fairy tale, the words, “Once upon a time . . .” This phrase is
the antithesis of every real-world norm in its deliberate vagueness, and is
often compounded with non-information such as “. . . in a land faraway.”
These introductory words tell us to forget factual information, that
the story that follows lives in a timeless world; in fact, it is timeless as it
relates to human experience.
How did Alice get to Wonderland? She fell down a hole, or passed through
a looking glass, both virtual portals into a “fairy-tale-like” upside-down
world. The reader is expected to do the same, leaving the real world behind.
Another simple boundary is the picture frame that separates the illustra-
tion itself from the wall on which it hangs. We experience the drawing, paint-
ing, or photograph as a distinct world from the room it inhabits. We might
well imagine the world beyond the picture’s boundaries, stretching across the
entire wall, but we don’t project these images on to the wall itself; the picture
serves as a window into that world. The frame defines that window.
Going beyond fairy tales, we find almost any novel, short story, or history
book presents a series of boundaries before we get to the “meat” of the text.
5. All of these pages are intended to entice the reader to continue from
page to page.
1. We enter the opera house, where we sit in rows that force our attention
to the stage, making conversation difficult.
2. The orchestra starts to tune up, another signal leading us along.
3. The lights dim, ending our conversations (hopefully) and intensifying
our focus on the stage, and our anticipation.
4. But often the curtain remains closed.
5. The opera begins with an overture, another boundary that prepares
us and builds our expectations for what is to follow.
6. Finally, the curtain is raised, and we are thrust into an imaginary
world held within the proscenia walls of the stage. The scenery sets
the sense of place.
7. The characters appear and the story finally begins.
But our journey through these barriers has brought us to a very strange
world.
And yet, we can experience the joy, the pain, and the whole range of human
emotions expressed, even empathize with these fctitious characters in this
artifcial and often archaic art form. The artifce of singing amplifes the
emotional experience rather than distracts.
basic level, they progress from scene to scene, place to place, and from one
group of characters to another.
• “Hansel and Gretel slowly climbed the hill, often stopping to catch
their breaths and looking back at the valley below, taking them a full
hour before reaching the top.”
• We read that statement in a matter of seconds, not hours.
• “Cliff grabbed the double agent, pushed him against the wall, and hit
him hard with his fist.”
Of course, in drama and flm, all the action and dialogue happen in real
time within a scene; we can see much of what a narrator might tell us,
although sometimes a voiceover is provided to let us know what characters
are thinking.
• But time elapses between scenes, sometimes moments but often days,
months, years, even decades.
The Fundamental Power of Story 17
We need to adjust our usual sense of the world in order to accept this
fuid sense of time. While telling (or reading or viewing) a story requires a
certain amount of time, the need to follow the ebb and fow of time forces
us to focus on the story itself. In other words, the elastic treatment of time
reinforces our suspension of disbelief.
Finally, we need to consider the third component that enhances our expe-
rience of story by enabling us to identify with the character and situations
related in a story.
• We can still feel the exultation of a victor in a race, or feel the pain of
a heroine forced into an unwelcome marriage, even if these situations
are completely foreign to us.
• Moreover, stories enable us to cross all boundaries of time and cul-
ture, as we experience people whose lives are as distinct from our
own as possible.
Your Turn
1. Think of the last time you started a new book, from the time
you sat down to the time you got to the “meat” of the content.
• How much attention did you pay to the “front matter?” Did
you just skip over it, or focus on certain pieces? Which pieces?
• Did any of this process affect your expectations?
• Did you find that as you entered into the reading experi-
ence your connection to the rest of the world diminished?
2. The next time you watch a TV drama or comedy, try to keep
track of the number of changes in scene.
• Are you surprised at the number of shifts that occurred?
• Did you have any trouble following these shifts? If so, did
they become clearer later on?
The Fundamental Power of Story 19
Noble Beginnings
Storytelling began as an oral art long before the development of writing.
Homer was most likely a renowned storyteller in a long tradition, shaping
and passing down stories inherited from countless prior generations. He
20 The Fundamental Power of Story
presents the role of the bard in the Eighth book of the Odyssey, when
Odysseus, finally resting in the palace of the king of the Phaeacians after
his many adventures, is entertained by a blind storyteller. This figure is
treated with dignity by the court:
“In came the herald now, leading along the faithful bard the muse
adored above all others, true, but her gifts were mixed with good and
evil both: she stripped him of sight but gave the man the power of
stirring, rapturous song. Pontonous brought the bard a silver-studded
chair . . . And the herald placed a table by his side with a basket full
of bread and cup of wine . . .”4
In these passages are expressed the essence of the sacred role of storyteller:
The other critical aspect of this role is spoken by the hero himself—that
the bard speaks the truth. He refers to the literal accuracy of Demodocus’
description of the Trojan War, but there is a more profound responsibility
that all storytellers have—to relate a deeper, more fundamental truth, and
in many cases, the accuracy of the literal rendering of events is far less
important than these underlying verities.
• There are many reasons for this, not the least being our offerings are
viewed as the result of accepted, if somewhat mysterious processes,
such as statistics and semiotics, not gifts of the gods.
But also critical is the fact that our presentations generally do not trans-
port our listeners into a rapturous state because, quite frankly, they do
not resemble stories, and do not share any of the characteristics noted
earlier as those that empower storytelling.
Lopez also notes that for the storyteller to invoke the transformative
power of narrative, he or she must establish a sense of intimacy with
the audience, and perhaps assume a semblance of humility despite the
authority with which they speak. Hence his emphasis is placed on the
storyteller’s regard for the audience.
• The key point is that research identifies not only a static market situ-
ation but also the underlying patterns—the dynamics that generate
market behavior and evolution.
The Fundamental Power of Story 23
trust stems both from knowledge and regard for the audience. At the very
least, this means preparing deliverables that are “audience-friendly” and
focusing on what your client really wants to know.
Your Turn
1. Consider an important event or experience you had recently.
For example, meeting a new boyfriend/girlfriend, getting a new
job, having a great vacation, or visiting someone you haven’t
seen for a while. Now do the following:
• Imagine describing this experience as factually and succinctly
as possible to someone with no prior knowledge of it.
• Now imagine describing this same experience but feel free
to add, even invent details, provide background if helpful,
describe your feelings, and even ask your imaginary audi-
ence questions.
• Which of these two narrations make you feel more like a
storyteller? What do you think contributes to this feeling?
• Which version do you think holds the attention of your
imaginary audience better?
2. Remember a non-research presentation or address you watched
made by a senior executive, such as the announcement of a new
policy, product, or management team member. (If you’re a stu-
dent, you might think of an address by an administrator, dean,
or a professor.)
• How attentive/receptive was the audience to the presenter?
• How much of this was due to the person’s position?
• Did the presenter use stories, anecdotes, or other incidental
comments? If so, how did these affect your engagement?
• Did the presenter reveal any sense of humility, or use self-
deprecation, despite his or her authority?
• Did the presenter show any other way of respecting the
audience, or simply take their attention for granted?
• In the end, how did the audience respond to the
announcement?
The Fundamental Power of Story 25
Chapter Summary
Stories permeate our existence, including our own and all the stories
we’ve ever heard.
Story is a unique characteristic of human beings, a form of sharing that
can bind all of humanity together. In fact, it is one of the most powerful
forms of human communication, able to evoke a wide range of emotional
responses and “transport us” to a distant time and place.
Story also serves as a means of informing, persuading, and explaining.
Even textbooks use stories to get a point across, law and business courses
rely on case studies, and fables and parables are intended to convey ethi-
cal principles.
The range of types of narratives is huge, from simple children’s books
to novels, as well as diaries, news articles, and histories. We tend to divide
these between fiction and non-fiction, but there are many gray areas in
between, such as historical fiction and movies “based on a true story.”
Stories can be communicated through many art forms, including music,
painting, photography, dance, drama, and film.
There are three transformative properties of story that make it such
a powerful form of communication based on the nature of engagement:
“Once upon a time” is a simple boundary that separates a fairy tale from
reality, as is Alice’s falling down the rabbit hole. Picture frames separate
the artwork from the wall on which it hangs.
26 The Fundamental Power of Story
Time enjoys its own elasticity within a story, as events described take
place in “real time” or over a much longer period. Time periods are also
mixed, with successive scenes taking place simultaneously, after a long
interval, or in the past through fashbacks.
Notes
1. A great example of this is Bill Bryson’s 2003 book, A Short History of Nearly
Everything (New York: Random House, Inc., 2003), that explains basic
scientific principles through the histories of their discovery.
2. George P. Schultz, “The 10 Most Important Things I’ve Learned about Trust
Over My 100 Years,” Washington Post, December 11, 2020.
3. Taking this one step further, such a realization can even be expressed by
fictitious characters themselves. In Donna Leon’s mystery Unto Us a Son
Is Given (New York: Grove Press, 2019), a police inspector reading Eurip-
ides’ tragedy, The Trojan Women, admits that “these fictive people and what
The Fundamental Power of Story 27
happened to them were much more upsettingly real to him than what he read
in even the most graphic police reports.” (p. 98).
4. Homer, The Odyssey, trans. By Robert Fagles (New York: Viking Penguin,
1996), Book 8, lines 71–82, p. 193.
5. Ibid., lines 546–551, p. 207.
6. Barry Lopez, “Landscape and Narrative,” in Crossing Open Ground (New
York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1988; reprint, New York: Vintage Books,
1989), pp. 61–71. This essay is reprinted in the Appendix, pp. 178–183. Fur-
ther citations refer to the page numbers in this volume. Lopez’ perspective
rests heavily on his immersion in natural phenomena and aboriginal cultures,
and his primary focus is on the psychological transformative power of story
at the individual level. Despite these distant orientations, his conclusions ring
true for all kinds of stories and can be applied to those infusing our deliver-
ables, further testifying to the universal nature of story.
7. Ibid., p. 180.
8. Ibid., pp. 179–180.
9. Ibid., p. 180.
10. Ibid., p. 181.
11. Ibid., p. 182.
Chapter 2
1. Story as novelty
2. Story as the essence of what has been learned
Story as Novelty
Many people live in a forward-looking mindset, always striving toward
the future, frequently obsessed with the latest development, gadget, turn
in the stock market, or even the latest wrinkle in an ongoing saga.
• But perhaps it is more accurate to say that the success of these omni-
present media is a reflection of an intensified impatience that has
become nearly universal.
• Short-circuiting this process, even before the numbers have settled let
alone been digested, only erodes the value the learning can bring to
the decision-making process.
This applies, of course, not only to business surveys but also to political
polls. Politicians who have celebrated good poll results based on prelimi-
nary data will not be happy to learn that, in fact, their numbers are lower
than earlier thought.
• This can also apply to counting ballots that arrive or are counted later.
Self-Protection
Delivering top-line results demands you take precautionary measures. Why?
First, to protect yourself in case final results turn out distinctly different from
an earlier report, in which case the client may well demand an explanation
of “what happened?” Nothing, of course, happened, but you could be put on
the defensive unless you have a clear paper trail showing you advised your
client ahead of time that the numbers initially provided might not hold up.
You are also trying to protect your client. Once a report is sent to a client,
you have no control over how it is distributed or even presented internally.
But even if the numbers or qualitative fndings are in their fnal form, what
they truly mean may still require further analysis and thought. If these deeper
interpretations are left unspoken, clients will draw their own conclusions.
How best to handle such unwelcome requests? Frankly, it isn’t always
possible (or politically advisable) just to say, “No. You have to wait until
we’re done.” In such situations, it is advisable to provide caveats to your
client, both verbally and in writing, that explain the limitations and
potential instability of partial or unweighted data.
Your client is even more likely to ask you “So what’s the story?” when
the data are in fnal form and the analysis has begun. While this is a
32 The Immediate and the Essential
“Your overall favorability rating has increased modestly since last year.”
As the analysis proceeds, your client may continue to ask you for the lat-
est learning, which may by then refect a somewhat deeper appreciation
for what the data reveals:
“Women are far more likely to prefer K than men, especially those
with young children.”
If client requests persist, the nature of your responses will evolve from the
“latest” learning uncovered to more profound insights and impactful impli-
cations, eventually arriving at the most critical, essential learning that your
work has produced. It is this epiphanal learning to which we now turn.
• This is the answer you might give a CEO you meet in the hall who
asks, “So, what have you learned in that study of yours?”
• He or she is not looking for a quick summary of findings, but a suc-
cinct statement of the key take-away(s) of the research initiative: the
critical insight, the “aha” moment, the epiphany.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
However, from whatever cause arising, we had the full benefit of the
peal.
“We got to our rural retreat about half-past nine, both the men-
servants attending us on horseback. At ten o’clock your old Mumpsa
[the child’s pet name for her mother] laid the first brick, and placed
under it a medal struck in commemoration of the centenary of the
Revolution of 1688. Your darling father then placed another for
himself, and a third for his beloved treasure, which he made Toney
put her foot upon; and after the little rogue had done so, you would
have laughed to have seen how she wagged her tail, and nodded
her head upon it, as much as to say she was very proud of being
admitted to have, not a finger, but a foot, in the business. The men
worked merrily on until two o’clock, and then repaired to the public-
house, where two legs of mutton, and bread, beer, and potatoes
were provided for them. There they enjoyed themselves for the rest
of the day, and this morning cheerily resumed their labours.”
Having thus impressed the natives, including the landlord of “The
Bell,” with a sense of the importance of the new owner about to
come among them, Dr. Mitford completed the business by
substituting the name “Bertram House” for that of “Grazeley Court,”
the reason for which, did the curiosity of the neighbouring aristocracy
cause them to inquire, was to be discovered in the fact that he was a
scion of the Mitfords of Bertram Castle, Bertram being the original
and ancient name of the family.
Judging by the very scant records of this period at our command, it
would appear that the erection of Bertram House, and its completion
to Dr. Mitford’s satisfaction, must have occupied nearly four years.
This would give Miss Mitford a clear three years of life among the
mild excitements which Reading then offered before taking up
residence at Grazeley in a district which she was to immortalize—the
term surely needs no justification for its use—and in which she was
destined, save for a few notable occasions when duty or
considerations of health called her away for short periods, to live out
her life to the end.
Her introduction to the gaieties of this respectable Borough took
place in the August of 1803, when she would be nearly sixteen. The
occasion was the annual Race Ball, at which function it was the time-
honoured custom of the race-steward to dance with the young ladies
then making their début, an ordeal almost as trying to the débutante
in those prim and decorous days as a presentation at Court,
especially if the steward happened to be a total stranger to her.
Writing to her mother, towards the end of her school career and
commenting on this, Miss Mitford added—possibly to gain courage
from the inditing—“I think myself very fortunate that Mr. Shaw
Lefevre[8] will be steward next year, for by that time I shall hope to
know him well enough to render the undertaking of dancing with him
much less disagreeable.” In this connexion we venture to suggest
that on this occasion Mr. Shaw Lefevre would have full hands, when
we remember that even at this comparatively early date Miss
Mitford’s figure had already assumed generous proportions and that
she was short of stature into the bargain.
Naturally enough, the conclusion of school life and the re-
commencement of life at home afforded the young girl the fullest
opportunities for observing, noting and commenting on persons and
events, a pastime in which she delighted. Her pictures of the
Reading of her day are notable alike for their quaint fancies as for
their fidelity. Her picture of the town—which she disguises under the
name of Belford Regis—as viewed from the southern heights of
Whitley, is one to which all true lovers of the old town turn with
pleasure even to-day.
“About this point,” she says, “is perhaps to be seen the very best
view of Belford, with its long ranges of modern buildings in the
outskirts, mingled with picturesque old streets; the venerable towers
of St. Stephen’s [St. Mary’s] and St. Nicholas [St. Laurence’s]; the
light and tapering spire of St. John’s [St. Giles’]; the huge monastic
ruins of the abbey; the massive walls of the county gaol; the great
river winding along like a thread of silver; trees and gardens mingling
amongst all; and the whole landscape enriched and lightened by the
dropping elms of the foreground, adding an elusive beauty to the
picture, by breaking the too formal outline and veiling just exactly
those parts which most require concealment. Nobody can look at
Belford from this point, without feeling that it is a very English and
very charming scene; and the impression does not diminish on
further acquaintance.”
Continuing, she compares the old romantic structures in which our
ancestors delighted—now, unhappily, nearly all demolished—with,
what she calls, the handsome and uniform buildings which are now
the fashion; and she remarks on the rapid growth which the town
was then making, “having recently been extended to nearly double
its former size.” What would she have said, we wonder, could she
have foreseen the Reading of to-day with its palatial polished-
granite-fronted business emporiums controlled from the Metropolis
by great limited liability companies whose insatiable appetites are
devouring, as their policy of grab is choking, the life from the old-time
burgesses; burgesses who gloried in their town and whom their town
took pleasure in honouring; men whose places are now filled by
battalions of shopmen whose fixity of tenure is so doubtful as to
preclude them from taking any part or interest, however slight, in the
town which shelters them? And, in regard to the extension which she
names with so much pride, how she would gasp with astonishment
had she been told that Whitley, from which she viewed the pleasant
scene, would be turned into dreary streets of uniformly built villas,
never deviating by so much as half a brick from the monotony of the
usual “desirable residence”; that the old limits of the town, beyond
which she could easily descry the panoramic revel of field and
meadow, would be extended for nearly two miles each way, almost
indeed to her beloved “Our Village,” and that the population of
16,000—each unit placidly pursuing its fairly prosperous calling—
would be transformed, seventy years later, into a struggling,
perspiring, more or less harassed army of 88,000, the majority not
daring, though they would not admit the stern impeachment, to call
their bodies their own.
“The good town of Belford,” she later remarks, “swarmed of course
with single ladies ... and was the paradise of ill-jointured widows and
portionless old maids. They met on the tableland of gentility, passing
their mornings in calls at each other’s houses, and their evenings in
small tea-parties, seasoned with a rubber or a pool, and garnished
with the little quiet gossiping (call it not scandal, gentle reader!)
which their habits required.... The part of the town in which they
chiefly congregated, the lady’s quartier, was one hilly corner of the
parish of St. Nicholas, a sort of highland district, all made up of short
rows, and pigmy places, and half-finished crescents, entirely
uncontaminated by the vulgarity of shops,” chosen, it is suggested,
“perhaps because it was cheap, perhaps because it was genteel—
perhaps from a mixture of both causes.” A kindly satire this, and
interesting because it points so conclusively to a certain backwater
near the Forbury, and under the shadow of the church of St.
Laurence, which will be easily recognized by many who remember
how it retained its character as a settlement for prim old ladies, of the
kind described by Miss Mitford, until within quite recent times.
“Of the public amusements of the town, as I remember it at bonny
fifteen,” she continues, “these were sober enough. Ten years before,
clubs had flourished; and the heads of houses had met once a week
at the King’s Arms for the purpose of whist-playing; whilst the ladies,
thus deserted by their liege lords, had established a meeting at each
other’s mansions on club-nights, from which, by way of retaliation,
the whole male sex was banished,” save one. “At the time, however,
of which I speak, these clubs had passed away; and the public
diversions were limited to an annual visit from a respectable
company of actors, the theatre being, as is usual in country places,
very well conducted and exceedingly ill attended; to biennial
concerts, equally good in their kind, and rather better patronised; and
to almost weekly incursions from itinerant lecturers on all the arts
and sciences, and from prodigies of every kind, whether three-year-
old fiddlers or learned dogs. There were also balls in their spacious
and commodious townhall, which seemed as much built for the
purposes of dancing as that of trying criminals. Public balls there
were in abundance; but at the time of which I speak they were of
less advantage to the good town of Belford than any one, looking at
the number of good houses and of pretty young women, could well
have thought possible.”
These few extracts—space forbids a larger selection—are
sufficient, we think, to prove how keen was the observing eye and
how critical was the mind of Miss Mitford at this time when,—to use
her own phrase—“I was a very young girl and, what is more to the
purpose, a very shy one, so that I mixed in none of the gaieties,” a
statement which seems to lend support to the current saying that
“the onlooker sees most of the game.”
So far we have dealt with the Reading life as dating from 1797, but
it is important to note that Miss Mitford speaks of a short residence in
the town when she was but four years of age, and this would give us
the year 1791. Unfortunately no proof for or against this is available,
so far as we know, and we should scarcely have thought it worthy of
mention but for another statement which she makes in her
Recollections the authenticity of which it would be well to at least,
attempt to clear up.
The statement has reference to the interest which Samuel Taylor
Coleridge evinced in one of her earliest literary efforts, Christina; or,
The Maid of the South Seas, when it was being prepared for press at
about the year 1811. This interest she ascribes to “Mr. Coleridge’s
kind recognition of my father’s exertions” in his behalf and relates to
that romantic period of the poet’s life when, in the December of
1793, he suddenly enlisted as a common soldier in the 15th Light
Dragoons under the nom de guerre of “Silas Tomkyn Cumberbatch.”
We have it on good authority that on December 4, 1793, he was
sent, with other raw recruits, to be drilled with his regiment, then
garrisoned at Reading, from which date until his discharge on April
10, 1794, he clearly proved his unfitness for the calling of a man-at-
arms.
The story of his discharge has been variously related, but all are
agreed that his identity was revealed by his being overheard by
certain of his officers reciting Greek lines, to say nothing of the polish
which, scholar as he was, he could not disguise. The circumstance
was sufficiently unique in those days—the gentleman ranker was a
growth of later date—to occasion inquiries, and these resulted in
communications with his friends, who came, identified, and bought
him out. One of these officers was Captain Ogle, eldest son of that
Dean of Winchester to whom, as we have noted in the earliest
chapter of this book, Dr. Mitford was on the visit which resulted in his
introduction to Miss Russell.
Miss Mitford’s account of the event is somewhat circumstantial, for
she relates that as Dr. Ogle was on a short visit to the Mitfords, the
opportunity of calling upon his father was gladly embraced by the
son, who, in the course of conversation, recorded the unusual
incident of the learned recruit, with the result that “one of the
servants waiting at table” was “induced to enlist in his place,” and the
“arrangement for his [Coleridge’s] discharge took place at my
father’s house at Reading.”
The dates relative to Coleridge’s enlistment and discharge are
incontrovertible, therefore in view of the lack of evidence to support
the idea of the Mitfords being in Reading in 1794, we are inclined to
doubt—as others have doubted—the authenticity of Miss Mitford’s
narrative, suggesting rather, that having heard this romantic story,
many years after—possibly from the lips of Captain Ogle himself—
she readily assumed, with the licence of literary folk in general, that
the incident took place as she recorded it.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] He represented Reading in Parliament, 1802-1820.
CHAPTER VI
BERTRAM HOUSE
Bertram House was at last finished and the beginning of 1806 saw
the Mitfords in residence. In the matter of furnishing the Doctor had
spared no expense, everything being new and of the latest pattern,
in fact the best that a fashionable London upholsterer could supply.
Of the pictures we know that the walls were well covered and that
the collection included a Gainsborough, a pair of female heads by
Greuze, and a portrait of the Doctor by Opie. We have already seen,
in Mrs. Mitford’s description of the stone-laying ceremony, that they
were attended by “the two men-servants on horseback”; this hints at
a fairly complete retinue having been installed at the Reading house,
but it was considerably augmented when the arrangements were
completed at Grazeley. Appearances counted for much in the district
and the Doctor was not the man to let slip such a grand opportunity
for ostentatious display.
His hospitality was profuse and indiscriminate, resulting in a
house-warming which extended over quite a lengthy period. As an
incentive—had he need of one—Dr. Mitford had recently been
appointed as one of the County magistrates, a tribute of appreciation
from the Whigs, of whose cause he was an earnest partizan, which
gave him an immediate rise in social status.
In time, of course, the family settled down to a more or less
ordered form of life, so ordered indeed that the Doctor created as
many excuses as possible to cover his frequent journeys to Town
and his clubs. There was sport in plenty to be had in the
neighbourhood, and of this the Doctor took full advantage, being a
familiar figure around the countryside with his gun and spaniels.
Then, too, there were the coursing meetings—the famous meetings
at Ilsley and private matches arranged between friends—none of
which were considered complete unless the Doctor were present or
his famous kennel represented. Throughout Miss Mitford’s letters,
occasionally to her father and often to friends, there are frequent
references to the greyhounds whose names, in accordance with a
custom prevalent then and still fashionable, all began with the letter
M in token of their ownership. Thus, to name only a few, we have
Mia, Manx, Marmion (a notable dog this, with an equally notable son
of the same name), Mogul, Miller, Moss-Trooper, and Mopy. For all of
these Miss Mitford ever exhibited the greatest affection, and in those
cases where a spaniel grew too old to follow the gun or a greyhound
too stiff to be matched, an asylum under Miss Mitford’s immediate
eye and care was immediately provided, and the creature was
henceforth looked upon as her own.
Taking advantage of this motherliness to dumb animals her father
frequently handed over to her some specially valuable dog from
whose later exploits as a courser he expected much. Apparently,
however, the real reason for the supposed gift was not disclosed,
with the result that when the dog was eventually removed the little
mistress gave vent to her annoyance in no measured tones.
“It is a most extraordinary thing,” she says in one communication
to her father, “that I never can have a dog that I like but you
immediately take it from me and burthen me with the care of some
detestable brute whom you in your eternal caprice fancy a good one.
Observe, however, that in giving up my own darling Mordor, I bargain
that that sulky, ungrateful, mangy beast Marmion shall be sent off as
soon as you come home, and that I shall again have my sweet
Marian to pet and comfort me.”
This was not, of course, a serious outburst, but merely the
explosion of what she doubtless considered a truly righteous
indignation, for, although she was no sportswoman, her love for her
father gave her an interest in his pursuits, and she shared with him
to the full the joy of triumph and the sorrow of defeat, while to
disparage the Mitford kennel was to offer her a personal affront. On
the other hand, she was quick to convey to the Doctor any item of
praise which she overheard or might have addressed to her. “We
called yesterday at the Fawcetts’, and the old General said he had
kept greyhounds and seen many thousands, but had never had an
idea of perfect and consummate beauty until he saw her” [a
reference, in a letter to her father, to Mia, one of the hounds].
She had a strong dislike to equestrian exercise—the rides of
babyhood across the Alresford downs with her father could not count
in this connexion—and although every inducement was offered her
to ride, an inglorious fall from a donkey quickly settled her
convictions as to her horsemanship, and her one and only riding-
habit was forthwith converted into a winter-gown. Strictly speaking,
the greater portion of her time was spent at home with her mother,
receiving visitors or lying for hours at a time on the sofa, where she
would devour a great quantity of books at a pace which, having
regard to the extraordinary knowledge she imbibed from her reading,
was truly astonishing.[9] At other times the little green chariot, their
favourite equipage, would be ordered out, calls would be returned
and the drive be possibly extended to Reading, where there would
always be plenty of shopping to do and calls to be made on the old
neighbours and friends who would have the latest news from Town
or the latest gossip of their immediate circle to retail.
With a desire to augment his income, which must have been
seriously depleted by the building operations and by the subsequent
reckless expenditure on the household, the Doctor now began to
indulge in a series of hazardous enterprises, which, with all a
gambler’s insistence, he pursued intently the while they dragged him
deeper and deeper into the mire. One of these was an extensive
speculation in coal in which he engaged with a brother of M. St.
Quintin. For this he supplied the whole of the capital in expectation of
a return of £1,500 a year, but the whole thing was a failure and, with
the exception of about £300, the capital was lost. Another
Frenchman, a man of ingenious ideas but no money wherewith to
put them to practical use, found a ready supporter in the Doctor, who
was induced to advance £5,000 on the strength of a paper scheme.
This man was the Marquis J. M. F. B. de Chabannes, and his
scheme, a supposed improved method for the lighting and heating of
houses, was embodied in a booklet which he published in 1803 with
the comprehensive title of Prospectus d’un Projet pour la
Construction de Nouvelles Maisons, Dont tous les calculs de détails
procureront une très-grande Economie, et beaucoup de
Jouissances. Unfortunately for its promoters, the scheme did not
catch on with the public, the Marquis returned to France and the
deluded Doctor continued for years to spend good money in the
hope of recovering that which was irrevocably lost by suing the
Marquis in the French courts, efforts which were all vain.
Meanwhile his fever for gambling grew apace and his absences
from home were more and more frequent and prolonged, and the
two women, being left much to themselves, conceived the notion of
arranging and copying out for the press a collection of verses
composed by the reverend father of Mrs. Mitford, Dr. Russell. They
took considerable pains with this, to which was added a special
preface by Mrs. Mitford, and when the packet was ready it was
forwarded to Dr. Mitford, in Town, with a request that he should find a
publisher and get as much as he could for it. Unfortunately, the
sanguine editors were disappointed, for no publisher sufficiently
enterprising could be found to accept the manuscript, although
sundry extracts did subsequently find a certain publicity within the
pages of the Poetical Register.
Following closely upon this effort, and in the May of 1806, Miss
Mitford went for a few days on a visit to London as the guest of
Monsieur and Madame St. Quintin, her old schoolmaster and his
wife. A short round of festivities had been arranged for her benefit,
including a visit to the Exhibition of Water Colours, evenings at the
theatres and, what appears to have been a great treat for the
impressionable Miss, some hours of two days which were spent at
Westminster Hall looking on at the trial of Lord Melville[10] and
listening to the speeches, and for which the Doctor, then in Town and
staying at Richardson’s Hotel in Covent Garden, had procured
tickets. She had now been absent from London for over three years
and, no doubt, extracted a great deal of pleasure from her visit and
its reunion with Fanny Rowden and Victoire St. Quintin, M. St.
Quintin’s sister, with both of whom, together with the Doctor, the
round of sight-seeing was enjoyed.
Mrs. Mitford stayed at home, but was kept well-posted in all the
news by the inevitable letters, full of critical details, from her dutiful
daughter. From one of these, dated from Hans Place, May 12, 1806,
we quote:—
“I have much to tell you, but it can scarcely be compressed within
the bounds of a letter. On Thursday, after I wrote, Miss Ayrton, Miss
Carp, papa, and I went to the Exhibition. There are some
uncommonly fine pictures, and it is even better worth seeing than
last year. In the evening, Victoire, Miss A. and myself went with papa
to the play to see The Provoked Husband and The Forty Thieves.
Miss Duncan in Lady Townley is most admirable. I do not much
admire Elliston as her husband. The Forty Thieves is a very
magnificent spectacle, but nothing more; for the language and music
are equally vulgar and commonplace. On Friday morning we went to
Oxford Street. I was extravagant enough to give half a guinea for a
dress skirt for myself, which I wore the next day to the trial. We were
rather disappointed in Mr. Romilly.[11] The speech in itself was
beautiful beyond description; but he wants animation, and drops his
voice at the end of every sentence.... Miss Rowden, papa, and I are
going to see Henry the Eighth to-night, and we are going to
Westminster Hall to-morrow.... I shall hope to return Thursday or
Friday; for, though I am greatly amused here, I am never quite happy
without my dear, dear mother.”
Two days later this was followed by a still more characteristic
effusion. The second day at Westminster Hall decided her that: “Mr.
Romilly is charming and interesting; but my first and greatest
favourite is Mr. Whitbread. Mr. Plumer is rather an inelegant speaker,
though very animated. I have promised papa to write some verses to
Mr. Whitbread. He has even superseded Mr. Fox in my good graces.
I did not tell you, I believe, that I had the happiness of seeing Mr. Fox
mount his horse on Saturday. I shall never again contend for his
beauty. He was obliged to lean on two people, and looked so sallow
and pale in the face, and so unwieldy in person, that I am obliged to
yield our long-disputed point.” Rather hard on poor Mr. Fox, whom,
hitherto, this exuberant young person had worshipped as a hero,
even to the extent of removing her watch-stand from the head of her
bed that it might give place to a bust of this gentleman which the
Doctor had sent from Town. On this occasion it was a case of “Off
with the old love and on with the new” in double-quick time, for,
continuing, she says: “To make me amends my new favourite is what
even you would call exquisitely handsome; a most elegant figure,
and a voice which I could listen to with transport, even if he spoke in
an unknown language. Mr. Plumer attacked him with the most
virulent irony and ridicule; and Mr. W. stood with his face turned
towards him and leant upon the desk, smiling the whole time, with
the most fascinating good humour. You know I am always an
enthusiast; but at present it is impossible to describe the admiration I
feel for this exalted character.”
We quote these extracts with no thought of ridiculing the ardent
partisan, but as a fore-shadowing of that enthusiasm and that quick
impressibility which ever seemed to dominate Miss Mitford’s life;
characteristics which often led her into excesses of transport at the
discovery, or supposed discovery, of some noble trait in the
characters of those who came within her ken, only to be as quickly
repented of; often giving unintentional pain to others and resulting in
an infinitude of trouble and annoyance to herself. Despite this
temperamental defect, however, and while her friends looked on
amazed at her infidelity, there was one to whom she remained
unwaveringly faithful to the end, though this object of her great
affection was the least worthy of all who came into her life.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] A list kept as a check on the Circulating Library account for the
years 1806 to 1811 inclusive, is a sufficient indication of this, the
number for one month alone totalling fifty-five volumes and
ranging through Fiction, Belles-Lettres, Travel and Biography.
[10] Impeached for malversation in his office as Treasurer of the
Navy. The trial lasted sixteen days. Whitbread led for the
Impeachers; Plumer—afterwards Master of the Rolls—ably
defended and secured his acquittal.
[11] Sir Samuel Romilly, Solicitor-General.
CHAPTER VII
With a proper and increasing pride in his clever daughter, the Doctor
now conceived the idea of taking her with him on an extended trip
into Northumberland, thereby affording her some acquaintance with
the scenes amidst which his family had lived for generations, a trip
which would serve the double purpose of impressing the girl with a
sense of the importance of her ancestors and present relations and
of introducing her to the latter who, although they must have heard of
her, had never yet seen her.
The journey was begun on Saturday, September 20, 1806, the first
stage, that from Reading to London being by coach. From London
they travelled in the carriage of Nathaniel Ogle, who personally
conducted them to his own place in Northumberland, from which
they were to make their various excursions in the district. Mrs.
Mitford did not accompany them, but was kept well informed, as
usual, by her daughter.
The first letter is dated from Royston, September 21: “We had a
very long interval between the parting from my most beloved darling
and the leaving Reading. The coach was completely full; and it was
fortunate papa had secured a place on the box, where he continued
during the whole journey. The company in the inside had the merit of
being tolerably quiet; and I do not remember any conversation which
lasted longer than a minute. I, certainly, ought not to complain of
their silence, as I was more than equally taciturn, and scarcely spoke
during the whole way. I was quite low-spirited, but never less
fatigued by travelling. Both Mr. Joy and Dr. Valpy[12] met us before we
left Reading, and M. St. Quintin and Victoire met us at the Bath
Hotel. As soon as Victoire left me, I retired to bed, under the idea of
pursuing our journey early in the morning. It was, however, half-past
ten before Mr. Ogle got up, and we did not leave town till twelve. We
employed the interval in going to the bookseller’s for a Cobbett, and
bought a Cary’s Itinerary, an edition of Peter Pindar, and a few plays.
The Edition of P. P. which we bought cheap, remains in town; but the
others are our travelling companions. We went by Enfield to see
Mary Ogle, and finding them at dinner we dined at Mrs. Cameron’s;
we then changed horses at Waltham Cross; again at Wade’s Mill;
and are just arrived here, where we sleep to-night. Mr. Ogle is
extremely pleasant, and the carriage very convenient. We went the
two first stages on the box of the barouche. I need not tell you, my
dearest darling, that we felt nothing so much as the loss of your
society; and I have wished myself at home fifty times in the last
twenty-four hours, to be again with my dear mamma.”
Apart from the interest which, in these days, is always attached to
an old-time account of stage-travel the letter is interesting by reason
of the variety of literature purchased for perusal on the journey. The
Cobbett referred to would probably be Cobbett’s Political Register
(then being issued in parts), and intended for the Doctor’s personal
reading; he being not only an admirer but an intimate friend of the
outspoken reformer. Cary’s Itinerary was, of course, the well-known
road-book and constant companion of all who travelled in stage-
coach days; though why Miss Mitford was not content with her
dainty, green-leather-covered copy of Bowles’ Post-Chaise
Companion in two vols.—now a valued possession of the author’s—
is difficult to understand, unless it was overlooked in the hurry and
excitement of departure. Peter Pindar’s Works, then just completed
in five vols., would be a valuable addition to the library at home, but
the purchase of the plays is significant, proving the influence which
Fanny Rowden had exercised on the mind of her pupil, inculcating a
taste for the Drama which was to be of lasting importance.
The next letter is written from Little Harle Tower—a small place
about fourteen miles from Morpeth—and is dated Sunday Evening,
September 28.—
“I arrived here with Lady Charles,[13] about two hours since, my
dearest mamma; and I find from papa that in his letter to you to-night
he never mentioned that the irregularity of the post, which never
goes oftener than three times a week from hence, will prevent our
writing again till Wednesday, when we go to Sir William Lorraine’s,
and hope to get a frank from Colonel Beaumont, whom we are to
meet there. It is only by Lord Charles going unexpectedly to Morpeth
that I am able to write this, merely to beg you not to be alarmed at
not hearing oftener. I imagine papa has told you all our plans, which
are extremely pleasant. Lord and Lady Charles stay longer in the
country on purpose to receive us, and have put off their visit to
Alnwick Castle that they may take me there, as well as to Lord
Grey’s, Colonel Beaumont’s, and half a dozen other places.”
The reference in this letter to a “frank” is one which frequently
occurs in Miss Mitford’s correspondence. It was, as Sir Rowland Hill
once said, an “expedient for saving postage”—“discreditable shifts”
another writer called them. In the days before the institution of Penny
Postage—an event which put an end to “franking”—Members
of Parliament enjoyed the privilege of having their letters delivered
and despatched free of charge. To secure this, members had merely
to write their names on the covers to ensure free passage through
the post, and frequently furnished their friends with packets of franks
which were placed aside for use as occasion required. This latter
expedient was, of course, a flagrant abuse of the privilege, and in
one year it was computed that, had postage been paid on the
franked correspondence, the revenue would have been increased by
£170,000! In an endeavour to check this abuse it was enacted that
the whole superscription must be in the handwriting of the Member,
and that the frank was only available on the date (which it was
necessary to name) which was on the cover. While the regulation
certainly diminished the quantity of franking it did not put an end to
the use of the privilege by other than Members, to whom it became
the custom to despatch an accumulated batch of letters, intended for
a number of people, with explicit instructions as to their destinations.
The annoyance caused to Members, and the general confusion
which sometimes resulted from this practice, may be better imagined
than described. Miss Mitford herself gives us an amusing account of
the troubles and trials of those who both used and abused the
franking privilege, in her sketch on “The Absent Member,” in Belford
Regis.
In the next letter which Miss Mitford wrote we have a record of
some amusing table-talk, essentially feminine in character and
which, undoubtedly, greatly impressed the observant young person
who overheard it. It is addressed still from Little Harle Tower, dated
October 3, and after a short description of the scenery, and the mud
—which caused her to beg to be excused from such excursions in
the future—she relates an account of a dinner at Sir William
Lorraine’s at which Colonel and Mrs. Beaumont were of the party.—
“Mrs. B. was so polite as to express great regret that, as she was
going from home, she could not see us at her house, but hoped,
when next we came to Northumberland, we should come to see
them at Hexham Abbey. She is a very sweet woman.... Mrs. B. told
Lady Charles that they received last year a hundred thousand
pounds from their lead mines in Yorkshire; and they never make less
than eighty thousand, independent of immense incomes from their
other estates. Mrs. B. was dressed in a lavender-coloured satin, with
Mechlin lace, long sleeves, and a most beautiful Mechlin veil. The
necklace she wore was purchased by her eldest son, a boy of
eleven, who sent it from the jeweller’s without asking the price. It is
of most beautiful amethysts; the three middle stones are an inch and
a half long and an inch wide; the price was nine hundred guineas.
Mrs. B. wished to return it; but the Colonel not only confirmed the
purchase, but gave his son some thousands to complete the set of
amethysts by a bandeau and tiara, a cestus for the waist, armlets,
bracelets, brooches, sleeve-clasps, and shoe-knots. All these she
wore, and I must confess, for a small dinner-party appeared rather
too gaily decorated, particularly as Lady Lorraine’s dress was quite
in the contrary extreme. I never saw so strong a contrast ... Colonel
Beaumont is generally supposed to be extremely weak, but I sat next
him at dinner, and he conducted himself with infinite propriety and
great attention and politeness; yet when away from Mrs. Beaumont,
he is (they say) quite foolish, and owes everything to her influence.”
Added to this cryptic description—cryptic because, read it how we
will, we cannot be sure that there is not a subtle touch of sarcasm in
the words—is a shrewd observation on another visitor whom she
calls Mr. M.
“I told you I was not enamoured of Mr. M., and I will now describe
him to you.... He is an oddity from affectation; and, I often think, no
young man affects singularity when he can distinguish himself by
anything better. He affects to despise women, yet treats them with
great respect; and he makes the most extraordinary exertions to
provoke an argument, from which he generally escapes by some
whimsical phrase.”
The letter concludes with a long list of festivities which are to take
place in honour of her visit. Following on these, they journeyed to
Kirkley, Mr. Ogle’s seat, whither it was originally intended they should
travel direct but were deterred from so doing by the hospitality
offered en route. As a matter of fact their stay at Kirkley was a short
one, due to the same cause which had prevented their earlier arrival.
The only letter addressed from Kirkley is dated Wednesday
morning, October 8:—
“We arrived here on Monday at about three o’clock; received with
great glee by the Squire, and, after taking a short walk in the garden,
returned to dress. We had some time to wait for Lord and Lady
Charles, who did not arrive before half-past five or near six, and
even then undressed. They had been detained by the axle-tree
breaking down, and the detestable roads. Without their waiting to
dress, we immediately sat down to dinner and spent a most
delightful day. In the evening we found a manuscript play which had
been sent last year for Mr. Sheridan’s perusal.[14] It is taken from a
very striking story in the Canterbury Tales, of which I have forgotten
the title.... I read it aloud to the ladies, and the gentlemen played
billiards, and occasionally visited us. The play, which bears the name
of ‘Sigendorf,’ is really extremely interesting, and much better, as to
language, than most modern productions. Sheridan had never
looked at it, and Mr. Ogle lent it to Lady Charles.
“Yesterday morning, after a long walk, Lord and Lady C. left us.
We had an excellent dinner, and amused ourselves in the evening
with the ‘Liber Veritatis,’ which is, as you may remember, a very
expensive collection of two hundred of Claude Lorraine’s sketches,
published by Boydell.
“We are going in about an hour to Little Harle ... for Mr. Ogle and
papa remain here together. We go to-morrow to Alnwick and return
the same night. To-morrow is expected to be a very full day at the
Castle, on account of the Sessions Ball. The ladies—the married
ones I mean—go in Court dresses, without hoops, and display their
diamonds and finery on the occasion.
“Mr. Ogle is quite a man of gallantry and makes his house
extremely pleasant. We talk of coming to see him again next week,
when my cousin Mary and I are left to keep house alone at Morpeth,
and my uncle and aunt go to Little Harle Tower.”
From Morpeth, on October 11, was despatched a very long letter,
too long indeed for quotation in full, but from which we must give a
few extracts. It begins:—
“In papa’s letter of yesterday, my dearest darling mamma, he
promised that I would write you a long one to-day, and I certainly
owe you one in return for the very entertaining epistle I received
yesterday. After we left Kirkley, we called at Belsay, and saw Lady
Monck and the little Atticus, who was born at Athens fifteen months
since. He is a very fine boy, very like Sir Charles. Belsay is a very old
castle, and its eccentric possessor has done all he possibly could
desire to render it still more outré by stopping up the proper road,
and obliging us to approach this fine specimen of Gothic architecture
through the farm-yard. We arrived at Little Harle to dinner; and you
would have been greatly amused at my having my hair cut by Lord
Charles’s friseur, who is by occupation a joiner, and actually
attended with an apron covered with glue, and a rule in his hand
instead of scissors. He, however, performed his office so much to my
satisfaction, that I appointed him to dress my hair the next morning
for my visit to Alnwick. While I was thus employed, Lady Swinburne
called on purpose to see me. Lady Charles said I was out walking.
She is, you know, niece to the Duke of Northumberland, and I
regretted not seeing her.