A Tour Through the Whole Island of Great Britain

by Daniel Defoe

Britain in the early eighteenth an introduction that is both informative and imaginative, reliable and entertaining. To the tradition of travel writing Daniel Defoe brings a lifetime's experience as a businessman, soldier, economic journalist and spy, and his Tour (1724-6) is an invaluable source of social and economic history. But this book is far more than a beautifully written guide to Britain just before the industrial revolution, for Defoe possessed a wild, inventive streak that endows his work with astonishing energy and tension, and the Tour is his deeply imaginative response to a brave new economic world. By employing his skills as a chronicler, a polemicist and a creative writer keenly sensitive to the depredations of time, Defoe more than achieves his aim of rendering 'the present state' of Britain.

Genres: History, Travel, Nonfiction, 18th Century, Classics, Literature, British Literature

Paperback

First published January 1, 1724

About the author

Daniel Defoe was an English novelist, journalist, merchant, pamphleteer and spy. He is most famous for his novel Robinson Crusoe, published in 1719, which is claimed to be second only to the Bible in its number of translations. He has been seen as one of the earliest proponents of the English novel, and helped to popularise the form in Britain with others such as Aphra Behn and Samuel Richardson. Defoe wrote many political tracts, was often in trouble with the authorities, and spent a period in prison. Intellectuals and political leaders paid attention to his fresh ideas and sometimes consulted him.
Defoe was a prolific and versatile writer, producing more than three hundred works—books, pamphlets, and journals—on diverse topics, including politics, crime, religion, marriage, psychology and the supernatural. He was also a pioneer of business journalism and economic journalism.

Reviews

[Shovelmonkey1 · Rating 4 out of 5]

Let's pause for a second and consider the concept of the gap year. That glorious 12 month sojourn away from home before you return to the damp British shoreline to commence a university education (one senses that in the light of tuition fee hikes and fuel price rises that gap years and university educations are probably soon to disappear from the societal radar, however that is another matter). So what do you do on a gap year? Sign up for some travel mixed with a worthwhile and possibly altruistic activity which might enhance your CV and leave you with a warm and fuzzy sense of well being, plus allow you to dazzle your fellow goggle-eyed 19 year old university pals with stories like... and then it turned out she was a man, or but of course snakes blood just takes a bit like Jack Daniels really. Alternatively you can lie on a beach in Thailand and imagine what altruism feels like.

Daniel Defoe, most famous for his fictional literary output (you may know him, in a Troy McClure style, from such literary greats as Robinson Crusoe, Journal of a plague year and Roxana) had himself his very own gap year. Or actually it was two years but things moved at a slower pace then so it probably amounts to the same thing, then being 1724 - 1726.

Defoe set off on a grand tour of the whole island of Great Britain (I love how we awarded our own country the moniker of "Great", it cracks me up every time I think about it. Could have been Good Britain, Kind Britain or even moderately successful Britain but we chose "Great".) with the basic aim of seeing what was out there. Keep in mind that this was a time when if you said you were going to travel from London to Liverpool people would have said "Liverpool England, or Liverpool Canada?" because both seemed equally implausibly far away and foreign in a time without the benefit of train travel or BBC roving reporters.

Defoe wound his way up and down the length and breadth of England, Scotland and Wales (but studiously avoided Ireland) in an attempt to get to grips with what was really going on outside of London. As a former spy and journalist, a lot of his observations are based around imports, exports, trade routes, communications and keeping an eye out for rabble rousing religious types.

Each time he arrives at a city he is careful to compare it on the Daniel Defoe sliding scale of "it's not quite as good as London" but he does identify the unique merits in many new and growing towns such as Liverpool and Manchester. He also likes chatting to the country yokels and uses words such as ruddy and wholesome a lot. People in London must have been left with the impression that the rest of the UK was populated by a gang of rosy-cheeked simpletons. He notes that the welsh can be uncommunicative, that the Scots are "not all slow" and that merchants in Hull are good businessmen. Always good to know.

Having spent two years poking about in castles, cathedrals, ruins, ports, fisheries, rivers and roadside taverns Daniel returned to London and produced what is essentially the first travel guide to the UK. Sometimes comedic, sometimes factual and very much reflective of the social and political movements of the time, Defoe has captured a view of Britain on the brink of epic change. A unique vision of nationhood and a written testament to a man who once stood in a pillory and subsequently rose to become one of the most celebrated writers of his time.

[W.D. Clarke · Rating 2 out of 5]

The very last of this OG MF’s books I’ll be reading, thank you very much, but that is not to say that it didn’t have its moments.

Are those moments enough to justify reading this (apparently abridged) brick? Absolutely not. But I was finally fulfilling a contractual duty (to read every OxPen paperback still reasonably available from the period) with myself, and now I can say that that contract, as far as Mr. Defoe goes, at least, is henceforth null and void, and his god-fearing servant is no longer an indentured one.

Along the way through these 730pp one perforce learns (and learns to count) a few things, willy-nilly. Mainly that M. Foe just lurves commerce (62 mentions) and trade (436) and what was called (often accompanied by that crucial modifier, “English”) agricultural “improvement” (61)—capitalist enclosure (30) + the rigors of iterative increased profitability (19), but also what we might think of by that term, viz soil fertility (25).

Also, FWIW, (cos a reader has to get his jollies somewhere) “beer” and “ale” together merit 31 mentions, while “whiskey” and other “spirits” are not mentioned at all, except four times in toto, the most notable being that, in all of Scotland, he finds no distillery other than one in Glasgow for “distilling spirits from the molasses drawn from the sugars, and which they called Glasgow brandy.” Also, this item:

The orders for the government of the hospital of Bethlem are exceedingly good, and a remarkable instance of the good disposition of the gentlemen concerned in it, especially these that follow;
1. That no person, except the proper officers who tend them, be allowed to see the lunatics of a Sunday.
2. That no person be allowed to give the lunatics strong drink, wine, tobacco or spirits, or to sell any such thing in the hospital.)

Thank God for Christianity, I say—gotta keep those lunatics away from the primrose-path-to-dalliance, after all.

“God” (13), “Christianity” (16), the English “church” (292) and cathedral (60) and the Scottish “kirk” (4) all get their due innings, of course, as do the manifold virtues of the English Reformation and all it surely reformed (64 mentions):

the Reformation as they say, is not yet of 200 years standing, yet learning has more increased and the universities flourished more; more great scholars been produced, greater libraries been raised, and more fine buildings been erected in these 200 years than in the 800 years of Popery; and I might add, as many great benefactions have been given, notwithstanding this very momentous difference; that the Protestant’s gifts are merely acts of charity to the world, and acts of bounty, in reverence to learning and learned men, without the grand excitement of the health of their souls, and of the souls of their fathers, to be prayed out of purgatory and get a ready admission into heaven, and the like.

…and since, at the time of writing, the Glorious Revolution is now safely 36 years on, the scourge of the “popish” “papists” (18) is only slightly more present than Alexander Pope (12 mentions…Jonathan Swift, though very much a contemporary is mentioned only by the editors)—i.e., in 1724 no longer the threat it so manifestly was circa 1688. Defoe even finds occasion to re-employ the “small-c” variant of that word, viz. when he arrives in Dorchester,

where I thought the people seemed less divided into factions and parties, than in other places; for though here are divisions and the the people are not all of one mind, either as to religion, or politics, yet they did not seem to separate with so much animosity as in other places. Here I saw the Church of England clergymen, and the Dissenting minister, or preacher drinking tea together, and conversing with civility and good neighbourhood, like catholic Christians, and men of a catholic, and extensive charity.

Pity t’is, t’is true, then, that the author fails to take this example, for when the goodly pigrim arrives at Canterbury, his pique is piqued and he cannot constrain himself from lecturing us on the evils of ideol-worship:

In prosecution of my journey east, I went from hence to Canterbury; of which town and its antiquities so much has been said, and so accurately, that I need do no more than mention it by recapitulation. However I observe here.

1. That the first Christian bishop, if not the first Christian preacher, that ever came to England, (for I know not what to say to the story of Joseph of Arimathea, and his holy thorn at Glassenbury) landed in this country, and settled in this place; I mean St Augustin,15 sent over by Gregory, Bishop of Rome. This Gregory it seems was a true primitive Christian Bishop of Rome; not such as since are called so; long before they assumed the title of popes, or that usurped honour of Universal Bishop.

2. That, seven Bishops of Canterbury, from St Augustine, inclusive of himself, lie buried here in one vault.

3. That Thomas Becket, or Thomas a Becket, as some call him, archbishop of this see, and several archbishops before him, plagued, insulted, and tyrannized over the Kings of England, their sovereigns, in an unsufferable manner.

4. That the first of these, having made himself intolerable to King Henry II, by his obstinacy, pride and rebellion, was here murthered by the connivance, and as some say, by the express order of the king, and that they show his blood upon the pavement to this day.

5. That he was afterwards canonized, and his shrine made the greatest idol of the world; and they show the stone steps ascending to his shrine, worn away to a slope, by the knees of the pilgrims, and ignorant people who came thither to pray to him, and to desire him to pray for them.

Defoe sees some evil in the nascent stock market, too, and was critical of it (of “stock-jobbers” and “projectors” and their dupes) well before the “madness” and “disasters” surrounding the crash of the South Sea Bubble, but which is recent enough in memory to still merit lamentation (1720, 5 mentions herein):

I shall cover as much as possible the melancholy part of a story, which touches too sensibly, many, if not most of the great and flourishing families in England. Pity and matter of grief is it to think that families, by estate, able to appear in such a glorious posture as this, should ever be vulnerable by so mean a disaster as that of stock-jobbing. But the general infatuation of the day is a plea for it; so that men are not now blamed on that account. South-Sea was a general possession; and if my Lord Castlemain was wounded by that arrow shot in the dark, ’twas a misfortune. But ’tis so much a happiness, that it was not a mortal wound, as it was to some men, who once seemed as much out of the reach of it; and that blow, be it what it will, is not remembered for joy of the escape; for we see this noble family, by prudence and management rise out of all that cloud, if it may be allowed such a name, and shining in the same full lustre as before.

This cannot be said of some other families in this county, whose fine parks and new-built palaces are fallen under forfeitures and alienations by the misfortunes of the times, and by the ruin of their masters’ fortunes in that South-Sea deluge.

No, though a Whig, M. Foe also loves the “De” which he placed in front of that birth name, and so in this book, almost more than anything else, he never fails to scrimp on the descriptions (of all kinds, ofc, but here I mean specifically) of fine country (Tory) houses and estates, belonging to “gentlemen” (195 mentions) of “ancient” and “good families and fortunes” (69 mentions)—perhaps he is aware that those likely to be able to purchase this book will use it as a kind of Baedekker to other lives of the rich and (locally) famous…

For all that, when it comes to the actual, as-lived lives of the rich, the dissenter in him cannot help but cast a stern eye at their pursuits at Bath, or Epsom, say, even as his other eye attempts to perform a facsimile of latitudinarian broad-mindedness and respect for the money they so evidently gained. For example, when the hommes d’affaires chase pleasures innocent and otherwise whilst on holiday, Mr. D encourages the reader to imaginatively accompany him into their midst:

if you will suppose me to come there in the month of July, or thereabouts, you may think me to come in the middle of the season, when the town is full of company, and all disposed to mirth and pleasantry; for abating one unhappy stock jobbing year, when England took leave to act the frantic, for a little while; and when every body’s heads were turned with projects and stocks, I say, except this year, we see nothing of business in the whole conversation of Epsome. Even the men of business, who are really so when in London; whether it be at the Exchange, the Alley, or the Treasury-Offices, and the Court; yet here they look as if they had left all their London thoughts behind them, and had separated themselves to mirth and good company; as if they came hither to unbend the bow of the mind, and to give themselves a loose to their innocent pleasures; I say, innocent, for such they may enjoy here, and such any man may make his being here, if he pleases.

Nay, let us not dwell too too much on that last sentence, for it is much, much more conducive to the honest tourist trade to imagine them all in a proleptic parody of e.g. a Jane Austen novel, such that their days unvaryingly pleasant and uneventful in such places, much of a muchness:

Here you have the compliment of the place, are entered into the list of the pleasant company, so you become a citizen of Epsome for that summer; and this costs you another shilling, or if you please, half a crown. Then you drink the waters, or walk about as if you did; dance with the ladies, though it be in your gown and slippers; have music and company of what kind you like, for every man may sort himself as he pleases; the grave with the grave, and the gay with the gay, the bright, and the wicked; all may be matched if they seek for it, and perhaps some of the last may be over-matched, if they are not upon their guard.

After the morning diversions are over, and every one are walked home to their lodgings, the town is perfectly quiet again; nothing is to be seen, the Green, the Great Room, the raffling-shops all are (as if it was a trading town on a holiday) shut up; there’s little stirring, except footmen, and maid servants, going to and fro of errands, and higglers and butchers, carrying provisions to people’s lodgings.

This takes up the town till dinner is over, and the company have reposed for two or three hours in the heat of the day; then the first thing you observe is, that the ladies come to the shady seats, at their doors, and to the benches in the groves, and covered walks; (of which, every house that can have them, is generally supplied with several). Here they refresh with cooling liquors, agreeable conversation, and innocent mirth.

Those that have coaches, or horses (as soon as the sun declines) take the air on the downs, and those that have not, content themselves with staying a little later, and when the air grows cool, and the sun low, they walk out under the shade of the hedges and trees, as they find it for their diversion. In the mean time, towards evening the bowling-green begins to fill, the music strikes up in the Great Room,and company draws together a-pace. And here they never fail of abundance of mirth, every night being a kind of ball; the gentlemen bowl, the ladies dance, others raffle, and some rattle; conversation is the general pleasure of the place, till it grows late, and then the company draws off; and, generally speaking, they are pretty well as to keeping good hours; so that by eleven a clock the dancing generally ends, and the day closes with good wishes, and appointments to meet the next morning at the Wells, or somewhere else.

Ahh, if only all could find their way to Bath, or Epsome! Alas, if the poor (141 mentions) are always with us, at least we can praise them when they are industriously rather than indolently so, which M. Defoe does often. For example, when down in Cornwall, he entertains us with a heart-warming tale which rather ameliorates the picture he otherwise draws of the place:

>Saltash seems to be the ruins of a larger place, and we saw many houses as it were falling down, and I doubt not but the mice and rats have abandoned many more, as they say they will, when they are likely to fall; yet this town is governed by a mayor and alderman, has many privileges, sends members to Parliament, takes toll of all vessels that pass the river, and have the sole oyster fishing in the whole river, which is considerable. Mr Carew tells us a strange story of a dog in this town, of whom it was observed, that if they gave him any large bone, or piece of meat, he immediately went out of doors with it, and after having disappeared for some time, would return again, upon which after some time they watched him, when to their great surprise they found that the poor charitable creature carried what he so got to an old decrepit mastiff, which lay in a nest that he had made among the brakes a little way out of the town, and was blind; so that he could not help himself, and there this creature fed him. He adds, also, that on Sundays, or holidays, when he found they made good cheer in the house, where he lived, he would go out, and bring this old blind dog to the door, and feed him there till he had enough, and then go with him back to his habitation in the country again, and see him safe in. If this story is true, it is very remarkable indeed, and I thought it worth telling, because the author was a person, who they say might be credited.

I will give Defoe this: he does try his Leveller-best to be fair- (if never quite broad-) minded, especially vis-a-vis the working poor… And if he never attains an understanding of how inequality arises, he does take a blinders-on stab at it, saying that it arises chiefly from”the poverty of the commons, and the indolence of the gentry.” Still-and-all, the following is indeed a passage I did not expect of/from him:

A man might say of them, that they have the Indies at their door, and will not dip into the wealth of them; a gold mine at their door, and will not dig it. It is true, the reason is in part evident, namely, poverty; no money to build vessels, hire seamen, buy nets and materials for fishing, to cure the fish when it is catched, or to carry it to market when it is cured; and this discourages the mind, checks industry, and prevents all manner of application. People tell us, that slothfulness begets poverty, and it is true; but I must add too, that poverty makes slothfulness, and I doubt not, were two or three brisk merchants to settle at Kirkubry, who had stocks to furnish out ships and boats for these things, they would soon find the people as industrious, and as laborious as in other places; or, if they did not find them so, they would soon make them so, when they felt the benefit of it, tasted the sweet of it, had boats to fish, and merchants to buy it when brought in; when they found the money coming, they would soon work. But to bid men trade without money, labour without wages, catch fish to have them stink, when they had done, is all one as to bid them work without hands, or walk without feet; ’tis the poverty of the people makes them indolent.

That’s about it for insight, alas, how about…mirth? Not much of that either, given the Man and who he is, and all, but inadvertantly, I did enjoy how he tried to be fair to the Ladies of the North…

However, to do the ladies of Yorkshire justice, I found they did not gain any great share of the just reproach which in some other places has been due to their sex; nor has there been so many young fortunes carried off here by half-pay men, as has been said to be in other towns, of merry fame, westward and southward.

… the godless Scots Highlanders…

>Should we go about here to give you an account of the religion of the people in this country, it would be an unpleasant work, and perhaps scarce seem to deserve credit; you would hardly believe that in a Christian island, as this is said to be, there should be people found who know so little of religion, or of the custom of Christians, as not to know a Sunday, or Sabbath, from a working day, or the worship of God from an ordinary meeting, for conversation. I do not affirm that it is so, and I shall say no more of it here, because I would not publish what it is to be hoped may in time find redress; but I cannot but say that his Majesty’s gift of 1,000*l*. annually to the Assembly of Scotland, for sending ministers and missionaries for the propagating Christian knowledge in the Highlands, is certainly one of the most needful charities that could have been thought of, worthy of a king, and well suited to that occasion; and if prudently applied, as there is reason to believe it will be, may in time break in upon this horrible ignorance, that has so far spread over this unhappy part of the country.

…the Scots in general…

It is not so with all the people, they are not all stupid, and without any notions of commerce, navigation, shipping, fishing, &c…

…for, the Scots really are darn lucky to have England (and darn English socks)…!

>They had formerly a woollen manufacture here. But as the Union has, in some manner, suppressed those things in Scotland, the English supplying them fully, both better and cheaper; so they have more than an equivalent by an open trade to all the English plantations, and to England itself.

…and how even the salmon are drawn into God’s great Providential Plan for the commercial Improvement of all Englishmankind, but not yet throughout Scotland…

…and, though here is an extraordinary salmon fishing, the salmon come and offer themselves, and go again, and cannot obtain the privilege of being made useful to mankind for they take very few of them

And that’s about it, I’m afraid. Mr. Defoe seems to have seen much, and learned precious little: like the very worst American abroad...

[cont'd in comments]

[Catherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pat Rogers calls this text the "true English epic," and for good reason. Defoe's tours, or circuits, throughout Great Britain, provide a fascinating micro- and macrocosm of Great Britain in the early eighteenth century, and are still referred to by scholars as an accurate representation of the economic, geographic, and social features of the time. Don't pick this up expecting a novel or a solid plot; however, don't expect simple dry analysis, either. Again, to borrow Rogers words, he "hit on the best blend of objective fact and personal commentary; the neatest amalgam of gazetteer and traveler's tale; the densest mixture of history and prophecy, myth and reportage, observation and impression, formal coverage and informal anecdote."

It took me a long time to read this book, but even if I wasn't doing research directly on it, it would be well worth it for the far better understanding I have of 18th-century Britain. An invaluable resource for folks doing research on the 18thC.

[Michał Hołda · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful book, traveling trough through whole British isle in 18th century

There is everything shire after shire, with wealthy towns, and decaying ones, that has man possessing 15 wives and his son possessing 25 wife's.
Best place for pork beef, best for grain, best shipyard that build British Fleet, Citadel in Britain. Cities built and lived by aristocratic branch.
Best herings, best white sand for best kind of glass.With best sheep

And best wool, English wool made in Scotland by English manufactures.

There is 18th century London description in letter (as chapters are real letters in this book).

And Manchester growing twice as big since visit, and again twice bigger after times of mentioned by the author.

Wales and Scotland in greater detail.

Caernarfon cast and Conwy Castle to for English to help in wales, whenever land is welsh,English would supply them self by any side of water, that was necessity for English. Defending by water side.

Also know as heritage of Prince of wales, title given to fist son, primary. Before getting to rule over Kingdom.

As well as Nottingham hall, Wollaton Hall, To Poles are mainly known from two universities and the famous legendary figure of Robin Hood.
And Nottingham itself as best city of that shire.

I did love to read through and just walk by what author has written. Like I was in places I cannot fully visit anymore as things changed quite a bit.

[Barbara T. · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have mixed feelings. Defoe is almost totally concerned with the economies of all the places he visits: specifically how are they making money and/or exploiting the environment, which seems unattractive to us now. He loves bridges, hates mountains (described as “horrid”, “frightful”, “hideous”), thinks the Welsh are irritating because they only speak Welsh, and is an enthusiastic proponent of child labor. You’ll pick up a lot of English history on the way. He couldn’t understand the Highlanders so spoke French to them!

[Marcos Augusto · Rating 4 out of 5]

Defoe's most popular and financially successful work during the eighteenth century, thanks in part to his extensive travels and colourful background as a soldier, businessman, and spy. This is a vivid county-by-county review and celebration of the state of the nation, which combines an antiquarian’s enthusiasm with a passion for trade and commercial progress.

[Rachel Stevenson]

Bill Bryson has nothing to worry about.

[Nick Cassells · Rating 3 out of 5]

milestone in English reporting and travel writing

[Stephen Wood · Rating 4 out of 5]

Most people think of Robinson Crusoe, Moll Flanders, that sort of thing, but Defoe was a founding travel writer, and some say the Master of the genre. It’s not a tourist guide, rather an assessment of local economies, populations etc. He spends a little time reporting “antiquities” – cathedrals, monasteries, old castles etc. – but his real interest is where the produce for London is coming from and where are the concentrations of the gentry, “people of quality”, great houses and where “good conversation” is to be had. He’s a terrible snob really, but he can be forgiven at a time when the middle classes were starting to emerge from the profits of the industrial revolution. He makes his journey in a series of what he calls “circuits”, and he really does cover the whole of the country, even to the north of Scotland in the days before railways. The descriptions of the trials and tribulations of the road infrastructure of the time are, indeed, fascinating. It’s not an exciting read, but there’s a lot to be learned about life in the early 18th century, and no library of a travel reader should be without it. My edition was well introduced and edited for the modern reader by Pat Rogers and was easily readable for that, although the peculiar punctuation and interminable sentences take a bit of getting used to.

[Linda (un)Conventional Bookworms · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book I probably wouldn't have finished if I didn't have to read it for class! It was very long, tedious and repetitive. I thought 'On the Road in 18th century Britain' was going to be a fun class :(

[Philip Tidman · Rating 3 out of 5]

One of the first travel books to cover Britain, this gives a matter-of-fact account of Defoe's impressions as he traveled quite leisurely through the country. The book gives a fascinating insight into the trades and types of work carried out in each region.