The Miller in Eighteenth-Century Virginia: An Account of Mills & the Craft of Milling, as Well as a Description of the Windmill near the Palace in Williamsburg — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Miller in Eighteenth-Century Virginia: An Account of Mills & the Craft of Milling, as Well as a Description of the Windmill near the Palace in Williamsburg
John Stuart Mill · en
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THE
MILLER
in Eighteenth-Century
_VIRGINIA_
An Account of Mills & the Craft of Milling, as well as a Description
of the Windmill near the Palace in _Williamsburg_
_Williamsburg Craft Series_
_WILLIAMSBURG_
Published by _Colonial Williamsburg_
MCMLXXVIII
_The Miller in Eighteenth-Century_ Virginia
[Illustration: Decorative capital]
The reader of this account, being of open mind and charitable
disposition, as good men and women have ever been, will readily
recognize that whatever may appear in these pages to the discredit of
millers in times past cannot be taken to reflect in any fashion upon the
present master of Mr. Robertson’s windmill. Indeed, the age-old repute
of the calling is as distasteful to him and his colleagues of today as
it would be inappropriate if applied to them.
Unhappily, it cannot be denied that millers of an earlier day—those of
Chaucer’s generation, for example—left something to be desired in the
way of scruple. That gifted storyteller and honest reporter of the age
in which he lived gave prominent place in his _Canterbury Tales_ to two
millers. One of these was the villain and ultimate victim in the Reeve’s
Tale: “A thief he was, forsooth, of corn and meal; And sly at that,
accustomed well to steal.”
The other miller of the _Canterbury Tales_ was himself one of the
pilgrims, as merry and uncouth a rogue as one could find in any band of
cathedral-bound penitents: “He could steal corn and full thrice charge
his tolls; and yet he had a thumb of gold, begad.” That last remark, an
allusion to the proverb that “every honest miller has a thumb of gold,”
cut a broad swath indeed. Only Chaucer’s own regard for truth could have
moved him thus to dignify the popular belief that among millers
integrity was as rare as twenty-four-carat thumbs.
Similar distrust can be discerned in early feudal and manorial laws in
England, which prescribed certain methods of operation for grist millers
and established corresponding penalties for violation. The miller was
directed to charge specified tolls for his services, and no more. The
lord of the manor got his grain ground “hopper free,” since he generally
owned the mill and held the local milling monopoly. Under the
thirteenth-century Statute of Bakers, chartered land-holders paid the
miller one-twentieth of the grain he ground for them, and
tenants-at-will gave one-sixteenth, while bondsmen and laborers had to
part with one-twelfth of what they brought to the mill.