INTRODUCTION

THOMAS HERBERT COOKE'S time as land agent on the Middleton Hall estate in south-west Wales is well documented in a series of letters dating from 1841 to 1847, now held at the National Library of Wales. This is a rare collection, and one which presents unique insights. Being personal in nature, these letters reveal information that would not have been preserved in estate records. In this sense, they are a valuable resource to the historian. Cooke's letters, written to his mother and brother in his native Northamptonshire, list the duties undertaken by the land agent. However, they also give a real sense of his various frustrations and fears, many of which stem from the difficult relationship with his employer, Edward Abadam. The letters are also revealing of the attitude of a newcomer to the local area, with Cooke critical of the use of the Welsh language in church, agricultural practices of the tenantry and poor quality of the land he was expected to manage. Whilst he appears as a rather melancholic character, pessimistic and critical, his tendency to worry was completely justified during the summer of 1843, when he witnessed at first hand the Rebecca Riots. This chapter will introduce Cooke and his employer before discussing how the letters chart the activities of Rebecca and her daughters in the immediate vicinity of the estate. It will reveal how the land agent and his employer became targets of Rebecca's wrath, highlighting the potentially difficult position estate middlemen held within society.

‘HE KNOWS BUT LITTLE OR NOTHING OF BUSINESS’: DIFFICULT TIMES AT MIDDLETON HALL

Born on 28 January 1798 and baptised at Paulerspury, Northamptonshire, Thomas Herbert Cooke was the eldest son of a prosperous yeoman farmer, Thomas Cooke, and his wife Charlotte née Kirby. On his father's death in 1822, Cooke inherited the family estate, which included land in the parishes of Silverstone and Whittlebury. However, according to the terms of his father's will, provisions had to be made for Cooke's six sisters, leaving the heir with very little money in order to sustain the estate. In September 1830 Cooke set sail for Halifax, Nova Scotia, presumably in search of employment opportunities. Ultimately, this sojourn proved unsuccessful and he returned to England. His early experiences of financial difficulties and challenges give context to the often fretful tone of his letters.

THIS EDITED VOLUME IS about a subject of rural history that has often been ignored or reviled: the land agent. Factor, commissioner, manager, steward or agent: call him (and he was until well into the twentieth century universally a ‘him’) what you will, historians of rural Britain and Ireland have yet to give his role and operational parameters much sustained attention. This blind spot is particularly odd when we remind ourselves of the power – actual and reputational – wielded by land agents over large rural populations until relatively recently. As the representatives of landowners ‘on the ground’ in a part of Europe where large swathes of land were concentrated into relatively few hands, it is perhaps unsurprising that land agents carry a somewhat mixed – sometimes dark – historical reputation. In parts of Scotland, Wales and Ireland in particular, some agents developed local, regional – even national – reputations as tyrants and oppressors of the poor, to the extent that their names are still remembered today. In some parts of the British and Irish isles, agents did not labour under such burdensome reputations, but they were still generally recognised as powerful, well-educated men; leaders of their local society, often holding a multiplicity of local and regional political and governmental offices. They were relatively well paid too, often far in advance of doctors, clergy or teachers, fellow members of the rural middle and professional classes. Land agents are not just of interest to historians either; in the twenty-first century, they are still instrumental to the administration of landed estates.

Their role was a challenging one, as the chapters in this collection will demonstrate, in every geographical context. Resident land agents were required to manage almost every aspect of the estate, from the collection of rents and rates, to managing building repairs and improvements, surveying and agricultural science, the sensitive relations between landlords and tenants, as well as strategic planning for the future. All of this was underpinned by their relationship to their employer, the landowner, and their attitude to their estates, investment and consumption. Most land agents also had to have a strong working knowledge of the law; indeed, there was an enduring link between the legal and agency professions throughout the period covered by this volume, and certain law firms became associated with estate management and developed dynastic expertise.

AS MANY OF THE chapters have touched upon individually, the legacy and memory of the land agent in Britain and Ireland made a strong impression on both contemporary and subsequent poetry, fiction, drama and folklore. This is unsurprising, given the wide range of powers, personalities and activities of land agents in all corners of the British and Irish isles, as well as the sheer scale of their dominion. Despite the urbanisation and industrialisation overtaking much of society in this period, large sections of it remained rural and agricultural, and the power of the landed and aristocratic classes, though subject to challenge, remained strong. Ireland – Belfast, Dublin and Cork aside – remained a fundamentally rural society and agricultural economy well into the twentieth century. As such, the requirements for, and scope of activities of, land agents remained significant and the raw materials for fictional presentations of such powerful figures prevalent.

A number of common stereotypes of the land agent can be traced in fiction and poetry from the eighteenth to the twentieth centuries, which had a powerful impact on their image in social, communal and popular memory. These shared stereotypes act as linking membrane between the four nations of the British and Irish isles, right into the present day, differences in traditions, languages and religion notwithstanding. The first of these was a will to rule, an overweening desire for the exercise of power, not simply on behalf of their employers, but for its own sake.