Last Essays of Maurice Hewlett

In Short

Maurice Hewlett’s Last Essays is a wide-ranging collection of personal and critical reflections that bridge the rural routines of the English countryside with the grand landscapes of European literature and history. Moving from small village drama and local flora to medieval poetry, French memoirs, and the mechanics of the novel, the book traces how human nature remains constant across centuries. It has lasted because of its acute observation, warm stoicism, and deep appreciation for the quiet, unnoticed beauty of ordinary lives and classic art.

The Story

The book opens in the intimate surroundings of rural England, where Hewlett considers the quiet dramas of village life. Observing neighbours from a distance, he reflects on how small misunderstandings—such as the sudden purchase of a pair of cheap muslin curtains—can ripple through a tight-knit community, exposing human pride and social fragility. Moving further into the countryside, he examines the austere rhythm of the northern dales, noting how the isolated farmsteads retain the flat, unemotional cadences and communal living of ancient Icelandic sagas.

From these grounded scenes, Hewlett broadens his scope to the world of books and literary history. He critiques the contemporary novel, arguing that an over-obsession with romance, passion, and psychological theories like Freud’s has diluted the pure, adventurous spirit of classic storytelling. For Hewlett, the greatest literary creations are those plain, vital characters—such as Jeanie Deans, Falstaff, or Sancho Panza—who possess such distinct reality that they seem to step outside their pages into the physical world. He traces how writers across time have handled their art, examining Dante's rigorous structural symmetry and Chaucer's late-life recantations of his worldly verses.

Hewlett then turns his analytical eye toward French history and portraiture. He examines the political turbulence of the Fronde, where self-interested aristocrats played at revolution while swapping sides for personal gain, and contrast this with the terrifying starvation during the siege of Paris documented by Pierre de L’Estoile. He delves into the sharp aphorisms of La Bruyère and the curious, maternal friendship between George Sand and Gustave Flaubert, where Sand attempted to soften Flaubert’s cold, unyielding literary realism with warmth and heart. Returning to English letters, he celebrates the spirited, unpretentious correspondence of Dorothy Osborne and traces the domestic friction of Samuel Pepys.

In its final movement, the book returns to the earth and the passage of time. Hewlett writes with detailed passion about alpine and woodland flowers—windflowers, crocuses, and tulips—describing the physical toil and quiet delight of cultivating wild roots in English soil. The collection draws to a close amidst the twilight of the village, observing elderly farmhands and matriarchs who work without complaint until they drop. Hewlett ends on a note of serene acceptance, comparing the quiet, uncomplaining deaths of faithful country folk to the timeless, solemn peace of a Shakespearean dirge.

How It Unfolds

A return to the nest Hewlett begins by observing small, fleeting glimpses of human existence from a distance, noting how brief looks into lighted windows or quiet tap-rooms reveal deep emotional truths, isolated lives, and silent tragedies.

The trouble with curtains A mild rivalry erupts in a small village when a woman impulsively buys a pair of cheap muslin curtains at a town market, accidentally setting off a wave of parish gossip and disrupting a close friendship.

The decay of narrative Hewlett argues that modern fiction is destroying itself through an over-reliance on romantic passion, Freud, and psychological analysis, pining instead for the clean, unburdened storytelling of older epics and adventurous tales.

Life among the fells Moving to the isolated borderland of Furness Fells, Hewlett describes a harsh, sparse landscape where farm families and hired help live under a single roof, speaking in flat, Norse-like cadences that echo the ancient Icelandic sagas.

Courtly intrigue and public suffering Examining French historical memoirs, the author contrasts the frivolous, game-like civil wars of the French nobility during the Fronde with the grim, desperate horrors of the famished citizens of Paris under siege.

Cultivating the mountain bloom Hewlett turns his attention to his garden, reflecting on the stubbornness of alpine windflowers and documenting his strenuous efforts to dig up and transplant a wild sulphur anemone from the Simplon Pass into English soil.

The lingering of the light The book concludes with a quiet meditation on aging, work, and mortality in the English countryside, honoring the silent stoicism of aged villagers who labor faithfully until the very end.

The People

• Maurice Hewlett: The reflective essayist and narrator who moves between his quiet country garden and the vast world of European history, seeking authenticity in both daily labour and classic prose.
• Mrs. Cossey: A plain-faced village woman whose impulsive market purchase of cheap muslin curtains unexpectedly destroys the domestic harmony between herself and her closest neighbour.
• Mrs. Hobday: Mrs. Cossey's pretty, young neighbour whose private moments become public gossip due to the sheer transparency of the newly hung curtains.
• George Sand: The prolific, warm-hearted French author who adopts the prickly Gustave Flaubert as a "pauvre enfant," attempting to inject human sympathy and warmth into his cold realism.
• Gustave Flaubert: The fiery, perfectionist French novelist who labors for years over his texts and whose passionless, relentless analysis of human flaws strikes Sand as needlessly cruel.
• Dorothy Osborne: A 17th-century letter writer whose unaffected, conversational style and spirited independence Hewlett holds up as a model of genuine, unstudied prose.
• Samuel Pepys: The famous diarist whose complex domestic life, marital squabbles, and theatrical escapades are scrutinized for their unvarnished glimpse into Restoration humanity.

In Its Own Voice

"The epic faculty in us is never likely to atrophy, but will break out again presently in some unsuspected place; for while all men are children once, most of them remain so all their lives." — On the enduring human need for straightforward story-telling over modern psychological fiction.

"Dialect is not much to the point; intonation is a great deal to it. That runs flat, level and monotonous--unemotionally, like Danish." — Observing the unique, saga-like speech patterns of the inhabitants of Furness Fells.

"We are stoics, without knowing what that means down here. Whatever our years tell us we make no account of them, or of ailments, or physical discomfort..." — Reflecting on the quiet endurance and work ethic of elderly English villagers.

What It's Really About

Beneath its varied topics, Last Essays is fundamentally an investigation into what makes human creation—whether a life, a garden, or a piece of writing—authentic and enduring. Hewlett argues that true art and true character require simplicity, heart, and a firm grounding in reality. He constantly contrasts artificiality—such as modern novelistic neurosis, courtly political games, and vain vanity—with the quiet dignity of manual labor and unpretentious prose. The essays explore how history and literature are not abstract studies, but living extensions of ordinary human experience, shaped by the same fundamental needs for story, community, and purpose that govern a small English village.

Why Read It Today

Last Essays speaks to readers who appreciate classic literary craftsmanship, quiet country reflection, and perceptive historical criticism. Reading Hewlett feels like taking an unhurried evening walk through an English village in the company of a deeply learned, observant friend. His writing is crisp, witty, and entirely free of modern self-consciousness, moving effortlessly from garden soil to European history.

The book does present a few challenges for the contemporary reader. Hewlett assumes a high degree of cultural literacy, dropping casual references to classical mythology, French court memoirs, and 17th-century poetry without lengthy explanations. Furthermore, his unyielding critique of modern psychological literature and his preference for traditional rural stoicism reflect the distinct sensibilities of an early 20th-century gentleman. Yet these minor hurdles are easily offset by the clarity of his prose and the warmth of his vision. What stays with you is Hewlett's profound reverence for the quiet, diligent lives of ordinary people—a gentle reminder that the most meaningful things in life are often the most modest.