THE
VILLAGE MlNSTREL,
AND
OTHER POEMS.
BY JOHN CLARE,
THE NORTHAMPTONSHIRE PEASANT;
AUTHOR OF "POEMS ON RURAL LIFE AND SCENERY."
"I never list presume to Parnasse Hill,
"But piping low, in shade of lowly grove,
"I play to please myself."- - -
Spenser's Shep. Kal.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY, FLEET STREET;
AND E. DRURY, STAMFORD.
1821.
CONTENTS.
VOL. I.
INTRODUCTION
The Village Minstrel
Effusion
Address to my Father
Holywell
Description of a Thunder-Storm
To an early Cowslip
After reading in a Letter proposals for building a Cottage
Autumn
Ballad - "A weedling wild"
On the Sight of Spring
A Pastoral - "Surely, Lucy, love returns"
Ballad - "Where the dark ivy"
Song - "Swamps of wild rush-beds"
Song - "The sultry day"
Cowper Green
Song - "One gloomy eve"
The Gipsy's Camp
Recollections after a Ramble
A Sigh - "Again freckled cowslips"
To a Bower
Ballad - "When nature's beauty shone complete"
To Poesy
To the Clouds
Song - " Dropt here and there upon the flower"
To a dead Tree
The Disappointment
To an infant Daughter
Langley Bush
Sorrows for a favourite tabby Cat
The Widower's Lament
Sunday
A look at the Heavens
To a city Girl
To Health
Absence
May-Day
William and Robin
Ballad - "I love thee, sweet Mary "
Winter Rainbow
The Request
Solitude
INTRODUCTION.
THE former volume of JOHN CLARE's Poems was published on the 16th
of January, 1820. It immediately received the most flattering
notice from several periodical publications, and the interest
which was directly taken in the Poet's fate by all ranks, is a
circumstance most clearly indicative of the good taste and
generous feelings of the nation. A pleasant and judicious account
of the author,
which was published in the first number of the London Magazine,
greatly contributed to this rapid acknowledgement of the merits
of the work, and of the justice of the author's pretensions to
the distinction of public patronage. It was written by Mr.
Gilchrist, of Stamford, whose kindness to CLARE did not cease
with that effort in his favour. To him, and all those who, by
sympathising with CLARE in his days of his distress, have a
peculiar title to be named among his benefactors, the pleasure of
befriending a man of true genius is of itself a sufficient
reward: -
" - - - - The praise is better than the price,
The glory eke much greater than the gain - "
But among these early patrons, one in particular, the Rev. Mr.
Mounsey, of the grammar school, Stamford, deserves to be
mentioned, as the first person who subscribed to CLARE's intended
publication of his own Poems, and the first who gave any
encouragement to his faint hopes of success. The naming of this
project of our poor author requires that some account should be
given
of it, as none has appeared in the former Introduction.
In the summer of 1817 CLARE left Helpstone and
went into the employment of Mr. Wilders, ofBridge Casterton,
Rutlandshire. Here he first met with Patty, who was destined to
be his future companion through life - but as he observes in one
of his letters at this period, "a poor man's meeting with a
wife is reckoned but little improvement to his condition,
particularly with the embarrassments I laboured under at the
time." With the view of relieving himself from some of these
troubles, and thinking it but fair that his love of poesy should
contribute to his support as well as his amusement, the latter
only being too great a luxury for a poor man to indulge in, he
began to consider seriously about publishing a small volume of
Poems by subscription; and having some time before ascertained,
from a Printer at Market Deeping, that the expense of three
hundred copies of a Prospectus would not be more than one pound,
he set himself resolutely to work to obtain that sum. But the
story is best told in his own simple words.
"At the latter end of the year I left Casterton and went to
Pickworth, a hamlet which seems by its large stretch of old
foundations and ruins to have been a town of some magnitude in
past times, though it is now nothing more than a half solitude of
huts, and odd farm-houses, scattered about, some furlongs
asunder: the marks of the ruins may be traced two miles further,
from beginning to end. Here by hard working, day and night, I at
last got my one pound saved, for the printing of the proposals,
which I never lost sight of; and having written many more Poems
excited by a change of scenery, and being over head and ears in
love, - above all, having the most urgent propensity to
scribbling, and considering my latter materials much better than
my former, which no doubt was the case, - I considered myself
more qualified for the undertaking: so I wrote a letter from this
place immediately to Henson, of Market Deeping, wishing him to
begin the proposals and address the public himself, urging that
he could do it far better than I could, but his answer was that I
must do it. After this, I made some attempts, but not having a
fit place for doing any thing of that kind, from lodging at a
public house, and being pestered with many inconveniences, I
could not suit myself by doing it immediately, and so from time
to time it was put off. At last I determined, good or bad, to
produce something, and as we had another limekiln at Ryhall,
about three miles from Pickworth, [CLARE was at this time
employed in lime-burning] I often went there to work by myself,
where I had leisure to study over such things on my journeys of
going and returning. On these walks, morning and night, I have
dropped down, five or six times, to plan an Address, &c. In
one of these musings, my prose thoughts lost themselves in rhyme.
Taking a view, as I sat beneath the shelter of a woodland hedge,
of my parents' distresses at home, of my labouring so hard and so
vainly to get out of debt, and of my still added perplexities of
ill-timed love, - striving to remedy all, and all to no purpose,
- I burst out into an exclamation of distress, "What is
Life!" and instantly recollecting that such a subject would
be a good one for a poem, I hastily scratted down the two first
verses of it, as stands, as the beginning of the plan which I
intended to adopt, and continued my journey to work. But when I
got to the kiln I could not work, for thinking about what I had
so long been trying at; so I sat me down on a lime-skuttle, and
out with my pencil for an Address of some sort, which, good or
bad, I determined to send off that day; and for that purpose,
when it was finished, I started to Stamford with it, about three
miles off: still, along the road, I was in a hundred minds
whether I should throw up all thoughts about the matter, or stay
till a fitter opportunity, to have the advice of some friend or
other; but, on turning it over in my mind again, a second thought
informed me that I had no friend; I was turned adrift on the
broad ocean of life, and must either sink or swim: so I weighed
matters on both sides, and fancied, let what bad would come, it
could but balance with the former: if my hopes of the Poems
failed, I should not be a pin worse than usual; I could but work
then as I did already: nay, I considered that I should reap
benefit from the disappointment; the downfall of my hopes would
free my mind, and let me know that I had nothing to trust to but
work. So with this favourable idea I pursued my intention,
dropping down on a stone-heap before I entered the town, to give
it a second reading, and correct what I thought amiss."
The reader may be curious to see the prose
production, which gave our poor poet so much more trouble than
any of his poetry. The original paper cannot be in the hands of
many persons; even the writer of these pages knew nothing of it
when he introduced CLARE's former volume to the notice of the
public, having had the first intimation of its existence from the
critique in the Quarterly Review.
"Proposals for publishing by Subscription, a Collection of
Original Trifles, on miscellaneous Subjects, religious and moral,
in Verse, by JOHN CLARE, of Helpstone.
"Some like to laugh their time away,
To dance while pipes and fiddles play,
And have nae sense of ony want,
As long as they can drink and rant.
The rattling drum and trumpet's tout
Delight your swankies that are stout:
May I be happy in my lays,
And win a lasting wreath of bays!
Is a' my wish; well pleas'd to sing
Beneath a tree, or by a spring."
Ramsay.
"CONDITIONS.
"1. The price shall not exceed three shillings and sixpence,
in boards; and unless three hundred copies are subscribed for,
the work will not be published.
"2. The work shall be put to press immediately after the
above number of copies are subscribed for.
"3. It shall be printed on a superfine yellow wove foolscap
paper, in octavo size, forming a neat pocket volume.
"4. That it shall be delivered to the subscribers (free of
any additional expence) as soon as published, and to be paid for
on delivery. - A list of subscribers to be printed in the book.
"ADDRESS TO THE PUBLIC. "The Public are requested to
observe, that the TRIFLES humbly offered for their candid perusal
can lay no claim to eloquence of poetical composition, (whoever
thinks so will be deceived,) the greater part of them being
Juvenile productions; and those of a later date offsprings of
those leisure intervals which the short remittance from hard and
manual labour sparingly afforded to compose them. It is hoped
that the humble situation which distinguishes their author will
be some excuse in their favour, and serve to make an atonement
for the many inaccuracies and imperfections that will be found in
them. The least touch from the iron hand of Criticism is able to
crush them to nothing, and sink them at once to utter oblivion.
May they be allowed to live their little day, and give
satisfaction to those who may choose to honour them with a
perusal, they will gain the end for which they were designed, and
their author's wishes will be gratified. Meeting with this
encouragement, it will induce him to publish a similar
collection, of which this is offered as a specimen."
Then followed the Sonnet to the Setting Sun, as it is printed in
the former collection. The Poet was disappointed, as might be
conceived, in his expectations of success from this appeal to the
poetic taste and discrimination of his neighbours; but it would
hardly be thought possible that, when all his prospectuses were
distributed, he could only obtain the names of seven subscribers.
"I distributed my papers," says the poor author, "
but as I could get at no way of pushing them into higher circles
than those with whom I was acquainted, they consequently passed
off as quietly as if they had still been in my possession,
unprinted and unseen." It appears, however, to have been one
of these prospectuses thus freely circulated by CLARE, which,
bringing on proposals from another quarter, ended in the
publication of the Poems in London.
His friend in Market Deeping now offered to print the work if
only one hundred subscriber were obtained, and after that he
proposed to commence his operations if CLARE would advance him
fifteen pounds; this demand was subsequently reduced to ten
pounds, but CLARE's subscribers did not increase with this
temptation; they still answered with the little girl, in
Wordsworth's Poems, "Nay, master, we are seven:" and so
far was CLARE from having ten or fifteen pounds to spare, that he
had not at that time fifteen pence to call his own.
The present Publishers gave CLARE twenty pounds for his Poems,
and brought them out on the 16th of January, 1820; and so
promptly was the benevolence of the higher ranks exerted in
behalf of the author, that before the expiration of a month CLARE
was in possession of a little fortune. The noble family at Milton
Abbey sent for him at the beginning of February, and with a
kindness which in its manner made a deeper impression on his
heart than even the bounty with which it was accompanied,
inquired into the situation and circumstances of himself, and of
his aged parents: Lord Milton then gave him ten pounds, to which
the Earl Fitzwilliam added five pounds: and on the following day
several articles of clothing and furniture were sent in, to
contribute towards the comfort of his father and mother. In the
middle of the same month, the Marquis of Exeter appointed CLARE
to come to Burghley House, where, after learning the simple
particulars of his life, and the means he had of supporting
himself, his Lordship told him, that as it appeared he was able
to earn thirty pounds a year by working every day, he would allow
him an annuity of fifteen guineas for life, that he might,
without injury to his income, devote half that time to poetry.
The regard for CLARE's welfare, which dictated this proposal, is
no less kind than the liberality of the benefaction; but
unfortunately some of the habits of a literary life are
inconsistent with laborious occupations: CLARE has often been
called from the harvest field three or four times a day, to
gratify the curiosity of strangers who went to Helpstone for the
purpose of seeing him. This very considerably interrupted the
usual course of his employments, and prevented him from deriving
that income, from the half labour of his life, which had been
anticipated. But his good fortune was determined to supply a
counterpoise to every disadvantage. About the very time that the
Marquis of Exeter laid so amply the foundation of CLARE's
independence on the one hand, the Earl Fitzwilliam sent one
hundred pounds to his Publishers, which, with the like sum
advanced by them, was laid out in the purchase of stock, with the
view of securing our Poet from the condition of extreme poverty
which otherwise might await him when, like other novelties of the
day, he, in his turn, should be forgotten. This fund was
immediately augmented by the contributions of several noblemen
and gentlemen, * chiefly through the instrumentality of Admiral
Lord Radstock, whose zeal for the improvement of CLARE's
condition, in every sense, is as much above all praise, as his
Lordship's assiduity in his benevolent career is probably without
parallel. The sums thus collected, amounting to two hundred and
twenty pounds thirteen shillings, were, with the former two
hundred, invested in the Navy five per cents. in the names of
trustees; and, at Midsummer, the interest resulting from this
source amounted to twenty pounds per annum. This establishment of
CLARE's future income on a firm basis was completed by an
allowance from the Earl Spencer of ten pounds per ann. for life:
his Lordship was at Naples when he heard of CLARE's talents and
penury, in a letter from Mr. Bell of Stamford: he became
interested in the fate of the Poet, and promised his assistance.
But the honour of being the patron of poesy is hereditary in the
family of Spencer, and seems of right to belong to the kinsman of
the prince of poets. From these various gifts and annuities CLARE
became possessed of an income of forty-five pounds a year, which
may be said to have been conferred upon him from the 1st of
January 1820, the respective payments having all commenced from
that day. His means of living it is hoped will be increased still
further by the publication of the present work, and by the profit
which may arise from the continued sale of his first production.
In the Spring of 1820, CLARE married "Patty of the
Vale," - "the Rosebud in humble Life," - or, to
speak in prose, Martha Turner, the daughter of a cottage farmer
residing at Walkherd Lodge in the neighbourhood of Bridge
Casterton, whose portion consisted of nothing beyond the virtues
of industry, frugality, neatness, good-temper, and a sincere love
for her husband; qualities, indeed, which contribute more than
wealth to the happiness of the marriage state; but money is still
a desirable accompaniment, and for want of it our Poet's finances
are somewhat too much straitened to support his family with
comfort. His household consists at the present time of his father
and mother, who are aged and infirm, his wife, and a little girl
who bids fair to be the eldest of a family, which at this rate
may be expected to be pretty numerous. They all live together in
the cottage in which CLARE was born.
Since sending his former Poems to the press, CLARE has written
the whole of the following collection, with the exception of the
Excursion to Burghley Park, Helpstone Green, To the Violet, The
Wood-Cutter's Night Song, To the Butterfly, To Health, May-Day,
William and Robin, and the first five Sonnets. - The third Sonnet
and May-Day were written on the illness and death of a youth who
was CLARE's earliest friend and favourite playfellow, and the
brother of John Turnill, the exciseman who taught CLARE to write.
Some of these Poems are ten or twelve years old. The pastoral,
William and Robin, one of his earliest efforts, exhibits a degree
of refinement, and elegant sensibility, which many persons can
hardly believe a poor uneducated clown could have possessed: the
delicacy of one of the lovers towards the object of his
attachment is as perfectly inborn and unaffected as if he were a
Philip Sidney. - It also shews that a style of writing, caught
from the accredited pastoral poets, which so many admire, was not
above CLARE's reach, had not his good sense taught him to abandon
it for the more difficult but less appreciated language of
nature.
The Village Minstrel was begun in the autumn of 1819: the writer
of these lines saw in November about one hundred stanzas of it,
and it was finished soon after the former volume made its
appearance. To the fate of that volume the author alludes with
much natural anxiety at the end of this poem,
"And wishes time her secrets would explain,
If he may live for joys, or sink in 'whelming pain."
And the state of dreary misery in which he then lived must be his
excuse for some apparently discontented stanzas about the middle
of the poem, if any excuse be necessary for some of the most
vigorous and beautiful ebullitions of true poesy that can be met
with in our language. The regret of a poet for the loss of some
object in nature, to which many of the dearest recollections of
his earliest and happiest days had attached themselves, is always
vehement; but who can wonder at or condemn it? If an old post had
such attractions for Pope, surrounded as he was with comfort and
luxury, what allowance ought not to be made for the passionate
regard of poor CLARE for things which were the landmarks of his
life, the depositaries of almost all his joys? But the poet can
be as much a philosopher as another man when the fit is off: in a
letter to the writer of these lines he laments the purposed
destruction of two elm trees which overhang his little cottage,
in language which would surprise a man whose blood is never above
temperate; but the reflection of a wiser head instantly follows:
-
"My two favourite elm trees at the back of the hut are
condemned to die - it shocks me to relate it, but 'tis true. The
savage who owns them thinks they have done their best, and now he
wants to make use of the benefits he can get from selling them. O
was this country Egypt, and was I but a caliph, the owner should
lose his ears for his arrogant presumption; and the first wretch
that buried his axe in their roots should hang on their branches
as a terror to the rest. I have been several mornings to bid them
farewel. Had I one hundred pounds to spare I would buy them
reprieves - but they must die. Yet this mourning over trees is
all foolishness - they feel no pains - they are but wood, cut up
or not. A second thought tells me I am a fool: were people all to
feel as I do, the world could not be carried on, - a green would
not be ploughed - a tree or bush would not be cut for firing or
furniture, and every thing they found when boys would remain in
that state till they died. This is my indisposition, and you will
laugh at it."
A few references are made in the Village Minstrel, to country
sports and customs, which, perhaps, need a little explanation,
and it is offered the rather because it can be given in the
Poet's own words. "Old Ball. - You mean the shagg'd foal.
It's a common tradition in villages that the devil often appears
in the form of a shagg'd foal; and a man in our parish firmly
believes that he saw him in that character one morning early in
harvest. 'Like offspring of old Ball,' means nothing more than
the foal of a mare, only boys are particular in saying it was
just like the foal of such a one." "Fiery Parrot. - A
candle lighted is placed on the mantle-piece or elsewhere, and on
the far side of the house stands a tub full of water, with a
sheet over the top, on each side of which, on the edge of he tub,
sits a girl, while a young fellow is selected out to sit between
them (generally the roughest and rudest clown in the company);
who, transported with the idea of having so pleasant a seat, is
generally very anxious and willing to perform it. In proceeding
to his seat of fancied paradise, he is to walk backwards, looking
earnestly at the candle burning before him; and thus he goes on
till gets between the young maidens, who, as he drops down, rise
in an instant, while the loosed sheet gives way, and often lets
him in over head and ears. Thus bent in the confines of the tub,
he cannot stir till assistance releases him from his
uncomfortable disappointment."
"Sheet-clad Crane. - A man holds in his hand a long stick,
with another tied at the top in the form of an L reversed, which
represents the long neck and beak of the crane. This, with
himself, is entirely covered with a large sheet. He mostly makes
excellent sport, as he puts the whole company to the rout,
picking out the young girls, and pecking at the bald heads of the
old men; nor stands he upon the least ceremony in this character,
but takes the liberty to break the master's pipe, and spill his
beer, as freely as those of his men. It is generally a private
caution with one of the actors in this tragi-comedy, to come into
the room before the crane's approach, with an excuse to want
several of the candles for alleged uses, till there are but few
left, that the lights may be the more readily extinguished; which
he generally contrives to put out on his departure, leaving all
in darkness and the utmost confusion. This mostly begins the
night's diversions, as the prologue to the rest; while the
'booted hogs' wind up as the entertainment, and finish the play
of the harvest-supper night."
"Booted Hogs. - A kind of punishment to such boys as have
carelessly neglected their duty in the harvest, or treated their
labour with negligence instead of attention; as letting their
cattle get pounded, or overthrowing their loads, &c. A long
form is placed in the kitchen, upon which the boys who have
worked well sit, as a terror and disgrace to the rest, in a bent
posture, with their hands laid on each other's backs, forming a
bridge for the hogs (as the truant boys are called) to pass over;
while a strong chap stands on each side, with a boot legging,
soundly strapping them as they scuffle over the bridge, which is
done as fast as their ingenuity can carry them"
"The Dusty or Deaf Miller appears in the room with a hunch
back, and a brush in one hand, and a basket in the other. His
man, a kind of Tom-Fool, accompanies him, with a pair of bellows
and a smelling-bottle. The miller's face is whitened with chalk
or whiting: in his basket he has bread and cheese, and a bottle
of ale, which he places on a table behind him, where his wife is
placed, as seemingly unknown to him, and takes it away as fast as
he places it thereon. He affects to be surprised, and pretending
deafness, runs over a mess of senseless gibberish to his man,
whom he beats for the supposed theft; till at last, knocking his
brush behind, he accidentally brings his wife to the ground,
which coming to his knowledge throws him into a great
consternation, and he instantly begins to have recourse to a
remedy for bringing her to life, which is done by using the
bellows and the smelling-bottle. On her recovery they hobble out
of the room, and the farce concludes."
"Scotch Pedlars, or the Scotchman's Pack. - Two men come in,
covered with blankets stuffed with straw, at their back. They
call out as they come in 'Corks and Blue,' and then sit down and
call for ale, the scene being a public house. They begin to
drink, and run over droll stories and recollections of their
former travels, &c. One seeming more covetous of beer than
the other (whose tongue keeps him employed), takes every now and
then a pull at the tankard as opportunity offers, unknown to his
talkative companion, in consequence of which the tankard is often
empty and filled; and on calling for the reckoning, the other who
has been busied in discourse, starts, surprised at the largeness
of the bill, and refuses payment. The other, nearly drunk, reels
and staggers about, and stubbornly resists all persuasions of
satisfaction on his part, which brings on a duel with their long
staves, driving each other out of the room as a termination to
the scene."
It is not our province to comment on the following Poems, - we
must leave it to the professed critics to exercise their usual
discrimination, in bringing forward the faults and beauties of
the author. Of the former the detection is not difficult, - but
it requires something of generosity and high-mindedness to
perceive and appreciate beauties, - some consanguinity with the
poet to feel what we would express, - and some wisdom to admit,
in doubtful places, where the judgment of the poet and the critic
differ, that he may be right, and that an appeal ought not to be
made from the higher to the lower tribunal: - for the critic is
not the poet's superior, though he often affects to be so, on the
strength of having had, probably, a better education; as if the
Latin and Greek which can be driven into a boy's head at school,
for a certain sum of money, were a more valuable possession than
the rarely found, unbought, unpurchasable endowment of genius
from the hand of the Creator.
"What more felicity can fall to creature
Than to enjoy delight with liberty,
And to be lord of all the works of nature,
To reign in th' air from th'earth to highest sky,
To feed on flowers and weeds of glorious feature,
To take whatever thing doth please the eye?" -
The poet enjoys all this right royally, but he does not reserve
it for his own gratification: he makes all the rest of his
fellow-creatures happy, in the same degree, by placing before
them "whatever thing doth please the eye." Thus CLARE
bids his inspired flowers and trees grow up in our sight, and
assume characters which we did not discover in them before. He
saw them, having his vision cleared by the euphrasy of a poetical
imagination: he brings them out into the clear light of day, and
sets them as pictures and statues in a gallery, to be the charm
and glory of many a future age; " such tricks hath strong
imagination," even in the mind of an illiterate peasant.
"Thus Nature works as if to mock at Art,
And in defiance of her rival powers;
By these fortuitous and random strokes
Performing such inimitable feats
As she with all her rules can never reach."
CLARE has created more of these never-dying forms, in the
personification of things inanimate and abstract, - he has
scattered them more profusely about our paths, than perhaps any
poet of the age except one; - and having contributed so much to
our gratification, what ought we to render in return to him? - He
deserves our favour, as one who tries to please us - our thanks,
for having so richly increased the stores of our most innocent
enjoyments - our sympathy, and something more substantial than
mere pity, because he is placed in circumstances, grievous enough
to vulgar minds, but to a man of his sensibility more than
commonly distressing; - and our regard and admiration, that,
sustaining so many checks and obstructions, his constant mind
should have at length shone out with the splendour which animates
it in these productions:
"For who would ever care to do brave deed,
Or strive in virtue others to excel,
If none should yield him his deserved meed,
Due praise, that is the spur of doing well?"
Poets of all ages have been cherished and rewarded, and this, not
as of mere favour, but from a feeling that they have claim to be
so considered. If of late years a less generous treatment has
been experienced by any, it is not chargeable on the nature of
man in general, but on an illiberal spirit of criticism, which,
catching its character from the bad temper of the age, has
"let slip the dogs of war" in the flowery fields of
poesy. We may hope that kinder feelings are returning, that
"olives of endless age" will grace the future Belles
Lettres of our country, and that especially the old and natural
relation of poet and patron may be again acknowledged, as it has
been in the present instance: -
"The kindly dew drops from the higher tree
And wets the little plants that lowly dwell."
* The following are the names of the principal contributors: -
His R. H. the Prince Leopold . . . . £10 0
The Duke of Bedford . . . . . . 20 0
The Duke of Devonshire . . . . . 20 0
The Duke of Northumberland . . . . 10 0
The Earl of Cardigan . . . . . . 10 0
The Earl of Brownlow . . . . . 10 0
The Earl of Winchilsea . . . . . 10 0
The Earl Manvers . . . . . . 10 0
The Earl of Egremont . . . . . . 10 0
The Earl Rivers . . . . . . 5 0
Lord Kenyon . . . . . . 10 0
Lord Northwick . . . . . . 10 0
Lord John Russell . . . . . . 10 0
Lord Arden . . . . . . . 10 0
Sir Thomas Baring, Bart. . . . . . 10 0
Sir Thomas Plumer . . . . . . 5 0
Jesse Watts Russell, Esq. M. P. . . . . 5 0
Edward Lee, Esq. . . . . . . 5 0
With several smaller donations.