A true story of a Norfolk Farmer.
MR. SMITH, of Dickleborough, in the county of Norfolk, was a simple and earnest-minded Christian, who had lived through those glorious times for the British farmer when Napoleon I turned all Europe into a vast battlefield, and wheat was selling at from fifteen to twenty shillings a bushel. He was a genius, too, in his way, and invented a plow, which was a great improvement on the cumbrous implement then in common use. His invention came under the notice of Prince Albert, who took great interest in agriculture, and he sent for him to explain certain matters connected with his plow. The old farmer accordingly journeyed to Windsor—no light undertaking in the days when the railway had not altogether taken the place of the post chaise, the stage coach, and the carrier's cart.
He reached Windsor in the twilight of a summer's evening and reported himself at the Castle. A gentleman of the household came to him and told him that he would have to present himself at ten o'clock on the following morning.
"Yes, that's all right," said the farmer,” but what am I to do for a bed? "
"A bed," said the Colonel, "oh, you'd better go to an inn." And he mentioned one where he would be made very comfortable for the night; but Mr. Smith did not take very kindly to the suggestion.
“Well, there now, Cunnel," he said, "that do seem mighty queer, that really do. Go to an inn; that's very ill-convenient and costly. I didn't come here because I wanted to come; I came because you asked me, and I had to come, and the least you can do is to give me a bed. If you was to come to Dickleborough, my missus, she'd find you a bed, I know right well she would, specially if we asked you to come; and if you was as hungry as I be, I warrant she'd find you something to eat in the bargain."
Old Mr. Smith said this in his pleasant way, and the Colonel was quite taken by storm. He brought him up to his rooms, had supper put before him, and gave orders for his accommodation for the night. The two spent a very pleasant evening together.
Then the Cannel, he say, "I'll ring for your candle, Mr. Smith, and the man he'll show you to your room." "Thank'ee Cunnel," I replied, "but there's one thing I always do afore going to bed. I have family prayer. I know my missus is having it at Dickleborough, and it won't do for her master not to have it because he happen to be away from home. Will you let's have your Bible, if you please? “The Cunnel, he say,” Oh, certainly, Mr. Smith," and he put it on the table, and I say to him, "Well now, will you read and I pray, or shall I read and you pray? " He made answer and say, "I think I'd better do the reading, Mr. Smith." So he read a Psalm he did, a beautiful Psalm that was, too, but that was one of the shortest in the book, and after he'd done, we knelt down and I prayed, and I asked the Lord to bless him and the Queen and the Prince of Wales and the dear babes. Then he took the candle that was brought and he showed me to my bedroom his own self, and a rare good grip he gave my hand when he bid me good-night at the door.
Well, in the morning I had a rare good breakfast, and at ten o'clock I was took to see the Prince. He shook hands with me quite friendly, and he got a-talking about my plow, and I showed him how it worked. After we'd been a-talking for a bit, the door opened and a big man with his head powdered and a uniform on, he say, "Her Majesty!” in a loud voice, and in came the Queen. When I saw her come in I was right astonished. I thought she'd have had a gold crown on her head and her gown all a-trailing behind, same as we see in the pictures. But there she was, just a plain simple woman, with a kind look on her face. She spoke to me, quiet and friendly like, and said she was very glad to see me, and what a long way I had come to show my plow; and she hadn't spoke them words afore I was no more afraid of her than I am of my neighbors' wives—nor half so much as I am of some of 'em. She was just as simple and kind as if she wasn't no more nor anybody; there wasn't no pride about her. But when I had to speak to her I let her see that I knowed who she was, and that I respected her. She saw right well she did, that John Smith of Dickleborough he wasn't the man to take no liberty because she was kind to him.
Well, we had a rare pleasant talk after we'd done with the plow. The Queen asked me a lot of questions about the farmers in our parts and the poor folk, what wages they got, were their cottages comfortable, did they go to church regular, and all manner of that, and I told her the best I could.
By and by I began to get uneasy. "Smith, now," I say to myself, "you're brought before kings and princes and you must testify." So I looked to the Lord for an opening, and 'twasn't long before it come. The Queen, she say to me, “Mr. Smith," she say, "however did you come to think of this clever invention of yours?” "Well, your Majesty, mum," says I, "I had that in my head a long time afore that come straight. I see what was wanted plain enough, but I couldn't make out how to get at it. I thought, and I thought, and I better thought, but that didn't come clear no how. So at last I made it a matter of prayer, and one morning there come to my mind like a flash, just what you see in that there model." “Why, Mr. Smith," she say, "do you pray about your plow?” “Why, there now, your Majesty, mum," says I, “why shouldn't I? My Father in heaven, He knowed I was in trouble about that, and why shouldn't I go and tell Him? I remember about my boy Tom—he's a fine big man now, keeping company along with my neighbor Stebbin's daughter, he is, and a rare good girl I know she be—but when he was a teeny mite of a boy, I bought him a whip, and rare pleased he was with that. Well, he come to me one day, crying as if his little heart was broke. He'd broke that whip, he had, and he come to me with it. Well now, your Majesty, mum, that whip wasn't nothing to me, that only cost eighteen pence when 'twas new, but it was something to see the tears a-running down my boy's cheeks. So I took him on my knee, and I wiped his eyes with my handkerchief, and I kissed him, I did, and I comforted him. “Why, don't you cry, Tom, my boy," says I, "I'll mend that whip, I will, so that it will crack as loud as ever, and I'll buy you a new one next market day." "Well, now, your Majesty, mum," says I, “don’t you think our Father in heaven, He cares as much for me as I care for my boy Tommy? My plow wasn't of much consequence to Him, but I know right well my trouble was."
Well, now, would you believe it, when I'd said that, the Prince he turned away, and he blowed his nose with his pocket handkerchief, and the Queen she had tears in her eyes, and I see one of 'em a-rolling down her cheek. "You're a good man, Mr. Smith," she say, "I'm thankful I have such subjects as you." Them were her very words. I'm proud of 'em, I've told my son Tom he's never to forget 'em, and he's to teach them to his children if so be as God gives him a family. When the Queen say them words to me, I say to her, "Your Majesty, mum," I say to her, "I hadn't got nothing good about me but what comes from God." "No more ain't none of us, Mr. Smith," she say. The Prince, he joined in and we had a rare good talk, 'twas for all the world like a band meeting. Folks may say what they like, but there ain't no use in them saying it to John Smith of Dickleborough, he know, and he say it to all the world, " Queen Victoria is a right good, godly woman, and Prince Albert he's another—leastways, well, you know what I mean."
It was getting nigh on noon by this time, and the Queen at last, she say to me, "Mr. Smith," she say, "You will find lunch provided for you, and the man who waits on you will take you over the Castle if you wish. There are some fine paintings and other things you might like to see." "Well now, your Majesty, mum," says I, "I ain't much of a judge of pictures, but there's one thing I'd rarely like to see." "What is that, Mr. Smith?” she say. "If I might see the dear babes." The Queen she laughed, and she looked right tickled, and she say they was a-walking in the Park, and some one should go with me and show me the way. So she bid me good-bye, and so did the Prince, and a man came and took me away.
Mr. Smith was taken to the Park, and there met the royal children. His conductor said something to the lady in charge of them, doubtless telling her of her Majesty's commands, and the good old man talked to the children in his kindly way for a few minutes. Then he took off his wide beaver hat, and standing bareheaded in the sunshine, he prayed that the blessing of God might be upon them and abide with them. Then he turned his face homeward and went back to the simple everyday life of a Norfolk farmer.
Not long after, he received a box which had been brought from London by the carrier, and in it he found a most beautiful family Bible, with a note explaining that it was a present from the Queen and Prince Albert. Mr. Smith carefully packed it up again and returned it with a letter to the Queen asking her "if she would be as good as to put her name in it." The Bible came back in due time with the autograph signature, not only of her Majesty, but of the Prince also and of all the children, even the baby's little hand had been guided to write its name. Under the signatures the Queen had written with her own hand, "A memento of the visit of a good man."