Chapter VII: Part 7

It is curious to enter one of these prisons of science, and observe the children not under the least government: the master without authority, the children without order; the master scolding, the children riotous. We never _harden_ the wax to receive the impression. They act in a natural sphere, but he in opposition: he seems the only person in the school who merits correction; he, unfit to teach, is making them unfit to be taught.

A man does not consider whether his talents are adapted for teaching, so much, as whether he can _profit_ by teaching: thus, when a man hath taught for twenty years, he may be only fit to go to school.

To that vast group of instructors, therefore, whether in, or out of petticoats, who teach, without having been taught; who mistake the tail for the feat of learning, instead of the head; who can neither direct the passions of others nor their own; it may be said, "Quit the trade, if bread can be procured out of it. It is useless to pursue a work of error: the ingenious architect must take up your rotten foundation, before he can lay one that is solid."

But, to the discerning few, who can penetrate the secret windings of the heart; who know that nature may be directed, but can never be inverted; that instruction should ever coincide with the temper of the instructed, or we sail against the wind; that it is necessary the pupil should relish both the teacher and the lesson; which, if accepted like a bitter draught, may easily be sweetened to his taste: to these valuable few, who, like the prudent florist, possessed of a choice root, which he cultivates with care, adding improvement to every generation; it may be said, "Banish tyranny out of the little dominions over which you are absolute sovereigns; introduce in its stead two of the highest ornaments of humanity, love and reason." Through the medium of the first, the master and the lesson may be viewed without horror; when the teacher and the learner are upon friendly terms, the scholar will rather invite than repel the assistance of the master. By the second, reason, the teacher will support his full authority. Every period of life in which a man is capable of attending to instruction, he is capable of attending to reason: this will answer every end of punishment, and something more.

Thus, an irksome task will be changed into a friendly intercourse.

This School, by a date in the front, was erected in 1724, in St. Philip's church-yard; is a plain, airy, and useful building, ornamented over the door with the figures of a boy and a girl in the uniform of the school, and executed with a degree of elegance, that a Roman statuary would not have blushed to own.

This artificial family consists of about ninety scholars, of both sexes; over which preside a governor and governess, both single. Behind the apartments, is a large area appropriated for the amusement of the infant race, necessary as their food. Great decorum is preserved in this little society; who are supported by annual contribution, and by a collection made after sermon twice a year.

At twelve, or fourteen, the children are removed into the commercial world, and often acquire an affluence that enables them to support that foundation, which formerly supported them.

It is worthy of remark, that those institutions which are immediately upheld by the temporary hand of the giver, flourish in continual spring, and become real benefits to society; while those which enjoy a perpetual income, are often tinctured with supineness, and dwindle into obscurity.--The first, usually answer the purpose of the living; the last, seldom that of the dead.

DISSENTING CHARITY-SCHOOL.

About twenty years ago, the Dissenters established a school, upon nearly the same plan as the former, consisting of about eighteen boys and eight girls; with this improvement, that the boys are innured to moderate labour, and the girls to house-work.

The annual subscriptions seem to be willingly paid, thankfully received, and judiciously expended.

WORKHOUSE.

During the long reign of the Plantagenets in England, there do not seem many laws in the code then existing for the regulation of the poor: distress was obliged to wander for a temporary and uncertain relief:--idleness usually mixed with it.

The nobility then kept plain and hospitable houses, where want frequently procured a supply; but, as these were thinly scattered, they were inadequate to the purpose.

As the abbey was much more frequent, and as a great part of the riches of the kingdom passed through the hands of the monk, and charity being consonant to the profession of that order, the weight of the poor chiefly lay upon the religious houses; this was the general mark for the indigent, the idle, and the impostor, who carried meanness in their aspect, and the words _Christ Jesus_ in their mouth. Hence arise the epithets of stroller, vagrant, and sturdy beggar, with which modern law is intimately acquainted.

It was too frequently observed, that there was but a slender barrier between begging and stealing, that necessity seldom marks the limits of honesty, and that a country abounding with beggars, abounds also with plunderers. A remnant of this urgent race, so justly complained of, which disgrace society, and lay the country under contribution, are still suffered, by the supineness of the magistrate.

When the religious houses, and all their property, in 1536, fell a sacrifice to the vindictive wrath of Henry the Eighth, the poor lost their dependence, and as want knows no law, robbery became frequent; justice called loudly for punishment, and the hungry for bread; which gave rise, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, to that most excellent institution, of erecting every parish into a distinct fraternity, and obliging them to support their own members; therefore, it is difficult to assign a reason, why the blind should go abroad to _see_ fresh countries, or the man _without feet to travel_.

Though the poor were nursed by parochial law, yet workhouses did not become general 'till 1730: that of Birmingham was erected in 1733, at the expence of 1173_l_. 3s. 5d. and which, the stranger would rather suppose, was the residence of a gentleman, than that of four hundred paupers. The left wing, called the infirmary, was added in 1766, at the charge of 400_l_. and the right, a place for labour, in 1779, at the expence of 700_l_. more.

Let us a second time, consider the 50,000 people who occupy this _grand toy shop of Europe_[6] as one great family, where, though the property of individuals is ascertained and secured, yet a close and beneficial compact subsists. We behold the members of this vast family marked with every style of character. Forlorn infancy, accidental calamity, casual sickness, old age, and even inadvertent distress, all find support from that charitable fund erected by industry. No part of the family is neglected: he that cannot find bread for himself, finds a ready supply; he that can, ought to do so. By cultivating the young suckers of infancy, we prudently establish the ensuing generation, which will, in the commercial walk, abundantly repay the expence: temporary affliction of every kind also merits pity; even those distresses which arise from folly ought not to be neglected: the parish hath done well to many a man, who would not do well to himself; if imprudence cannot be banished out of the world, companion ought not: he that cannot direct himself, must be under the direction of another.--If the parish supported none but the prudent, she would have but few to support. The last stage of human life demands, as well as the first, the help of the family. The care of infancy arises from an expectation of a return; that of old age from benefits already received. Though a man may have passed through life without growing rich, he may, by his labour, have contributed to make others so; though he could not pursue the road to affluence himself, he may have been the means of directing others to find it.

[Footnote 6: Burke.]

The number of persons depending upon this weekly charity in Birmingham were, April 14, 1781, about 5240.

Whether the mode of distributing the bounty of the community, is agreeable to the intentions of legislature, or the ideas of humanity, is a doubt. For in some parishes the unfortunate paupers have the additional misery of being sold to a mercenary wretch to starve upon twelve pence a head. It is matter of surprise that the magistrate should wink at this cruelty; but it is matter of pleasure, that no accusation comes within the verge of my historical remarks, for the wretched of Birmingham are not made more so by ill treatment, but meet with a kindness acceptable to distress. One would think _that_ situation could not be despicable, which is often _wished for_, and often _sought_, that of becoming one of the poor of Birmingham.

We cannot be conversant in parochial business, without observing a littleness predominant in most parishes, by using every finesse to relieve themselves of paupers, and throwing them upon others. Thus the oppressed, like the child between two fathers, is supported by neither.

There is also an enormity, which, though agreeable to law, can never be justified by the rules of equity--That a man should spend the principal part of his life in a parish, add wealth to it by his labour, form connexions in it, bring up a family which shall all belong to it, but having never gained a settlement himself, shall, in old age be removed by an order, to perish among strangers. In 1768, a small property fell into my hands, situated in a neighbouring village; I found the tenant had entered upon the premises at the age of twenty-two; that he had resided upon them, with poverty and a fair character, during the long space of forty six years--I told him he was welcome to spend the residue of his life upon the spot gratis. He continued there ten years after, when finding an inability to procure support from labour, and meeting with no assistance from the parish in which he had been resident for an age, he resigned the place with tears, in 1778, after an occupation of fifty six years, and was obliged to recoil upon his own parish, about twelve miles distant; to be farmed with the rest of the poor; and where, he afterwards assured me, "They were murdering him by inches." -- But no complaint of this ungrateful kind lies against that people whose character I draw.

Perhaps it may be a wise measure, in a place like Birmingham, where the manufactures flourish in continual sunshine, not to be over strict with regard to removals. Though it may be burdensome to support the poor of another parish, yet perhaps it is the least of two evils: to remove old age which hath spent a life among us, is ungenerous; to remove temporary sickness, is injurious to trade; and to remove infancy is impolitic, being upon the verge of accommodating the town with a life of labour. It may be more prudent to remove a rascal than a pauper. Forty pounds hath been spent in removing a family, which would not otherwise have cost forty shillings, and whose future industry might have added many times that sum to the common capital. The highest pitch of charity, is that of directing inability to support itself. Idleness suits no part of a people, neither does it find a place here; every individual ought to contribute to the general benefit, by his head or his hands: if he is arrived at the western verge of life, when the powers of usefulness decline, let him repose upon his fortune; if no such thing exists, let him rest upon his friends, and if this prop fail, let the public nurse him, with a tenderness becoming humanity.

We may observe, that the manufactures, the laborious part of mankind, the poor's rates, and the number of paupers, will everlastingly go hand in hand; they will increase and decrease together; we cannot annihilate one, but the others will follow, and odd as the expression may sound, we become rich by payment and poverty. If we discharge the poor, who shall act the laborious part? Stop the going out of one shilling, and it will prevent the coming in of two.

At the introduction of the poor's laws, under Elizabeth, two pence halfpenny in the pound rent was collected every fortnight, for future support: time has made an alteration in the system, which is now six-pence in the pound, and collected as often as found necessary. The present levy amounts to above 10,000_l_. per ann. but is not wholly collected.

As the overseers are generally people of property, payment in advance is not scrupulously observed.

It was customary, at the beginning of this admirable system of jurisprudence, to constitute two overseers in each parish; but the magnitude of Birmingham pleaded for four, which continued 'till the year 1720, when a fifth was established: in 1729 they were augmented to half a dozen; the wishes of some, who are frighted at office, rise to the word _dozen_, a number very familiar in the Birmingham art of reckoning: but let it be remembered, that a vestry filled with overseers is not calculated for the meridian of business; that the larger the body, the slower the motion; and that the time and the necessities of the poor demand dispatch.

From the annual disbursements in assisting the poor, which I shall here exhibit from undoubted evidence, the curious will draw some useful lessons respecting the increase of manufactures, of population, and of property.

No memoirs are found prior to 1676.

Year. Disbursed. Year. Disbursed.

l. s. d. l. s. d.

1676 328 17 7 1684 451 0 5-1/2
1677 347 9 10-1/2 1685 324 2 8
1678 398 8 0-1/2 1686 338 12 11
1679 omitted 1687 343 15 6
1680 342 11 2-1/2 1688 308 17 9-1/2
1681 363 15 7 1689 395 14 11
1682 337 2 8-1/2 1690 396 15 2-1/2
1683 410 12 1 1691 354 1 5-1/2
1691 360 0 4-1/2 1720 950 14 0
1693 376 12 3-1/2 1721 1024 6 6-1/2
1694 423 12 1-1/2 1722 939 18 0-1/2
1695 454 2 1-1/2 1739 678 8 5
1696 385 8 11-1/2 1740 938 0 6
1697 446 11 5 1742 888 1 1-1/2
1698 505 0 2-1/2 1743 799 6 1
1699 592 11 2 1744 851 12 5-1/2
1700 661 7 4-1/2 1745 746 2 7
1701 487 13 0 1746 1003 14 9-1/2
1702 413 14 0-1/2 1747 1071 7 3
1703 476 13 10 1748 1175 8 7-1/2
1704 555 11 11-1/2 1749 1132 11 7-1/2
1705 510 0 10 1750 1167 16 6
1706 519 3 6 1751 1352 0 8-1/2
1707 609 0 4-1/2 1752 1355 6 4
1708 649 15 9 1756 3255 18 3-1/4
1709 744 17 0-1/2 1757 3402 7 2-1/2
1710 960 8 8-1/2 1758 3306 12 5
1711 1055 2 10 1759 2708 9 5-3/4
1712 734 0 11 1760 3221 18 7
1713 674 7 6 1761 2935 4 1-1/2
1714 722 15 6-1/2 1762 3078 18 2-1/2
1715 718 2 1 1763 3330 13 11-1/2
1716 788 3 2-1/2 1764 3963 11 0-1/2
1717 764 0 6-1/2 1765 3884 18 9
1718 751 2 4 1766 4716 2 10-1/2
1719 1094 10 7 1767 4940 2 2
1768 4798 2 5 1775 6509 10 10
1769 5082 0 9 1776 5203 4 9-1/2
1770 5125 13 2-1/4 1777 6012 5 5
1771 6132 5 10 1778 6866 10 8-1/2
1772 6139 6 5-1/2 1779 8081 19 7-1/2
1773 5584 18 8-1/2 1780 9910 4 11-3/4
1774 6115 17 11

We cannot pass through this spacious edifice without being pleased with its internal oeconomy; order influences the whole, nor can the cleanliness be exceeded: but I am extremely concerned, that I cannot pass through without complaint.

There are evils in common life which admit of no remedy; but there are very few which may not be lessened by prudence.

The modes of nursing infancy in this little dominion of poverty, are truly defective. It is to be feared the method intended to train up inhabitants for the earth, annually furnishes the regions of the grave.

Why is so little attention paid to the generation who are to tread the stage after us? as if we suffered them to be cut off that we might keep possession for ever. The unfortunate orphan that none will own, none will regard: distress, in whatever form it appears, excites compassion, but particularly in the helpless. Whoever puts an infant into the arms of decrepit old age, passes upon it a sentence of death, and happy is that infant who finds a reprieve. The tender sprig is not likely to prosper under the influence of the tree which attracts its nurture; applies that nurture to itself, where the calls occasioned by decay are the most powerful--An old woman and a sprightly nurse, are characters as opposite as the antipodes.

If we could but exercise a proper care during the first two years, the child would afterwards nurse itself; there is not a more active animal in the creation, no part of its time, while awake, is unemployed: why then do we invert nature, and confine an animal to still life, in what is called a school, who is designed for action?

We cannot with indifference behold infants crouded into a room by the hundred, commanded perhaps by some disbanded soldier, termed a school-master, who having changed the sword for the rod, continues much inclined to draw blood with his arms; where every individual not only re breathes his own air, but that of another: the whole assembly is composed of the feeble, the afflicted, the maimed, and the orphan; the result of whose confinement, is a fallow aspect, and a sickly frame: but the paltry grains of knowledge gleaned up by the child in this barren field of learning, will never profit him two-pence in future; whereas, if we could introduce a robust habit, he would one day be a treasure to the community, and a greater to himself. Till he is initiated into labour, a good foundation for health may be laid in air and exercise.

Whenever I see half a dozen of these forlorn innocents quartered upon a farm house, a group of them taking the air under the conduct of a senior, or marshalled in rank and file to attend public worship, I consider the overseer who directed it, as possessed of tender feelings: their orderly attire, and simplicity of manners, convey a degree of pleasure to the mind; and I behold in them, the future support of that commercial interest; upon which they now lie as a burden.

If I have dwelt long upon the little part of our species, let it plead my excuse to say, I cannot view a human being, however diminutive in stature, or depressed in fortune, without considering, _I view an equal_.

OLD CROSS,

So called, because prior to the Welch Cross; before the erection of this last, it was simply called, The Cross.

The use of the market cross is very ancient, though not equal to the market, for this began with civilization.

Christianity first appeared in Britain under the Romans; but in the sixth century, under the Saxon government, it had made such an amazing progress, that every man seemed to be not only _almost a Christian_, but it was unfashionable not to have been a zealous one. The cross of Christ was frequently mentioned in conversation, and afterwards became an oath. It was hacknied about the streets, sometimes in the pocket, or about the neck; sometimes it was fixed upon the church, which we see at this day, and always hoisted to the top of the steeple. The rudiments of learning began with the cross; hence it stands to this moment as a frontispiece to the battledore, which likewise bears its name.

This important article of religion was thought to answer two valuable purposes, that of collecting the people; and containing a charm against ghosts, evil spirits, etc. with the idea of which, that age was much infested.

To accomplish these singular ends, it was blended into the common actions of life, and at that period it entered the market-place. A few circular steps from the centre of which issued an elevated pillar, terminating in a cross, was the general fashion throughout the kingdom; and perhaps our Vulcanian ancestors knew no other for twelve hundred years, this being renewed about once every century, 'till the year 1702, when the present cross was erected, at the expence of 80_l_. 9s. 1d. This was the first upon that spot, ever honoured with a roof: the under part was found a useful shelter for the market-people. The room over it was designed for the court leet, and other public business, which during the residence of the lords upon the manor, had been transacted in one of their detached apartments, yet in being: but after the removal of the lords, in 1537, the business was done in the Leather-hall, which occupied the whole east end of New-street, a covered gateway of twelve feet excepted, and afterwards in the Old Cross.

WELCH CROSS.

If a reader, fond of antiquity, should object, that I have comprized the _Ancient state of Birmingham_ in too small a compass, and that I ought to have extended it beyond the 39th page; I answer, when a man has not much to say, he ought to be hissed out of authorship, if he picks the pocket of his friend, by saying much; neither does antiquity end with that page, for in some of the chapters, I have led him through the mazes of time, to present him with a modern prospect.

In erecting a new building, we generally use the few materials of the old, as far as they will extend. Birmingham may be considered as one vast and modern edifice, of which the ancient materials make but a very small part: the extensive _new_, seems to surround the minute _old_, as if to protect it.

Upon the spot where the Welch Cross now stands, probably stood a finger-post, to direct the stranger that could read, for there were not many, the roads to Wolverhampton and Lichfield.

Though the ancient post, and the modern cross, might succeed each other, yet this difference was between them, one stood at a distance from the town, the other stands near its centre.

By some antique writings it appears, that 200 years ago this spot bore the name of the Welch End, perhaps from the number of Welch in its neighbourhood; or rather, from its being the great road to that principality, and was at that time the extremity of the town, odd houses excepted. This is corroborated by a circumstance I have twice mentioned already, that when Birmingham unfortunately fell under the frowns of Prince Rupert, 137 years ago, and he determined to reduce it to ashes for succouring an enemy, it is reasonable to suppose he began at the exterior, which was then in Bull-street, about twelve houses above the cross.

If we were ignorant of the date of this cross, the style of the building itself would inform us, that it rose in the beginning of the present century, and was designed, as population encreased, for a Saturday market; yet, although it is used in some degree for that purpose, the people never heartily adopted the measure.

In a town like Birmingham, a commodious market-place, for we have nothing that bears the name, would be extremely useful. Efforts have been used to make one, of a large area, now a bowling-green, in Corbet's-alley; but I am persuaded the market-people would suffer the grass to grow in it, as peaceably as in their own fields. We are not easily drawn from ancient custom, except by interest.

For want of a convenient place where the sellers may be collected into one point, they are scattered into various parts of the town. Corn is sold by sample, in the Bull-ring; the eatable productions of the garden, in the same place: butchers stalls occupy Spiceal-street; one would think a narrow street was preferred, that no customer should be suffered to pass by. Flowers, shrubs, etc. at the ends of Philip-street and Moor-street: beds of earthen-ware lie in the middle of the foot ways; and a double range of insignificant stalls, in the front of the shambles, choak up the passage: the beast market is kept in Dale-end: that for pigs, sheep and horses in New-street: cheese issues from one of our principal inns: fruit, fowls and butter are sold at the Old Cross: nay, it is difficult to mention a place where they are not. We may observe, if a man hath an article to sell which another wants to buy, they will quickly find each other out.

Though the market-inconveniencies are great, a man seldom brings a commodity for the support of life, or of luxury, and returns without a customer. Yet even this crowded state of the market, dangerous to the feeble, hath its advantages: much business is transacted in a little time; the first customer is obliged to use dispatch, before he is justled out by a second: to _stand all the day idle in the market place_, is not known among us.

The upper room of this cross is appropriated for a military guard-house. We find, December 16, 1723, an order made at a public meeting, that "A guard house should be erected in a convenient part of the town, because neither of the crosses were eligible." But this old order, like some of the new, was never carried into execution. As no complaint lies against the cross, in our time, we may suppose it suitable for the purpose; and I know none but its prisoners that pronounce against it.

SAINT MARTIN's.

It has been remarked, that the antiquity of this church is too remote for historical light.

The curious records of those dark ages, not being multiplied, and preserved by the art of printing, have fallen a prey to time, and the revolution of things.

There is reason for fixing the foundation in the eighth century, perhaps rather sooner, and it then was at a small distance from the buildings. The town stood upon the hill, whose centre was the Old Cross; consequently, the ring of houses that now surrounds the church, from the bottom of Edgbaston-street, part of Spiceal-street, the Bull-ring, Corn-cheaping, and St. Martin's-lane, could not exist.

I am inclined to think that the precincts of St. Martin's have undergone a mutilation, and that the place which has obtained the modern name of Bull-ring, and which is used as a market for corn and herbs, was once an appropriation of the church, though not used for internment; because the church is evidently calculated for a town of some size, to which the present church-yard no way agrees, being so extremely small that the ancient dead must have been continually disturbed, to make way for the modern, that little spot being their only receptacle for 900 years.

A son not only succeeds his father in the possession of his property and habitation, but also in the grave, where he can scarcely enter without expelling half a dozen of his ancestors.

The antiquity of St. Martin's will appear by surveying the adjacent ground. From the eminence upon which the High-street stands, proceeds a steep, and regular descent into Moor-street, Digbeth, down Spiceal-street, Lee's-lane, and Worcester-street. This descent is broken only by the church-yard; which, through a long course of internment, for ages, is augmented into a considerable hill, chiefly composed of the refuse of life. We may, therefore, safely remark, in this place, _the dead are raised up_. Nor shall we be surprised at the rapid growth of the hill, when we consider this little point of land was alone that hungry grave which devoured the whole inhabitants, during the long ages of existence, till the year 1715, when St. Philip's was opened. The curious observer will easily discover, the fabric has lost that symmetry which should ever attend architecture, by the growth of the soil about it, causing a low appearance in the building, so that instead of the church burying the dead, the dead would, in time, have buried the church.

It is reasonable to allow, the original approach into this place was by a flight of steps, not by descent, as is the present case; and that the church-yard was surrounded by a low wall. As the ground swelled by the accumulation of the dead, wall after wall was added to support the growing soil; thus the fence and the hill sprang up together; but this was demonstrated, August 27, 1781, when, in removing two or three old houses, to widen St. Martin's Lane, they took down the church-yard wall, which was fifteen feet high without, and three within. This proved to be only an outward case, that covered another wall twelve feet high; in the front of which was a stone, elevated eight feet, and inscribed, "Robert Dallaway, Francis Burton." Church-wardens, anno dom. (supposed) "1310." As there is certain evidence, that the church is, much older then the above date, we should suspect there had been another fence many ages prior to this. But it was put beyond a doubt, when the workmen came to a third wall, four feet high, covered with antique coping, probably erected with the fabric itself, which would lead us far back into the Saxon times.

The removal of the buildings to accommodate the street, the construction of the wall, beautified with pallisades, is _half_ an elegant plan, well executed. If we can persuade ourselves to perform the other half, by removing the remainder of the buildings, and continuing the line to the steps, at the bottom of Spiceal-street, the work will stand in the front of modern improvement.

In the south-east part of the wall, covered by the engine-house, upon another stone, nearly obliterated, is, John Enser, Richard Higginson, Church-wardens, 1709.

Other church-yards are ornamented with the front of the buildings, but that of St. Martin submits to the rear.

The present church is of stone; the first upon the premises; and perhaps the oldest building in these parts.

As the country does not produce stone of a lasting texture, and as the rough blasts of 900 years, had made inroads upon the fabric, it was thought necessary, in 1690, to case both church and steeple with brick, except the spire, which is an elegant one. The bricks and the workmanship are excellent.

Though the fabric is not void of beauty, yet being closely surrounded with houses, which destroy the medium of view, that beauty is totally hid.

The steeple has, within memory, been three times injured by lightning. Forty feet of the spire, in a decayed state, was taken down and rebuilt in 1781, with stone from Attleborough, near Nuneaton; and strengthened by a spindle of iron, running up its centre 105 feet long, secured to the side walls every ten feet, by braces--the expence, 165_l_. 16s.

Inclosed is a ring of twelve musical bells, and though I am not master of the bob major and tripple-grandfire, yet am well informed, the ringers are masters of the bell-rope: but to excel in Birmingham is not new.

The seats in the church would disgrace a meaner parish than that of Birmingham; one should be tempted to think, they are the first ever erected upon the spot, without taste or order: the timber is become hard with age, and to the honour of the inhabitants, bright with use. Each sitting is a private freehold, and is farther disgraced, like the coffin of a pauper, with the paltry initials of the owner's name. These divine abodes are secured with the coarse padlocks of a field gate.

By an attentive survey of the seats, we plainly discover the increasing population of Birmingham. When the church was erected, there was doubtless sufficient room for the inhabitants, and it was probably the only place for public worship during 800 years: as the town increased, gallery after gallery was erected, 'till no conveniency was found for more. Invention was afterwards exerted to augment the number of sittings; every recess capable only of admitting the body of an infant, was converted into a seat, which indicates, the continual increase of people, and, that a spirit of devotion was prevalent among them.

The floor of the church is greatly injured by internment, as is also the light, by the near approach of the buildings, notwithstanding, in 1733, the middle roof of the chancel was taken off, and the side walls raised about nine feet, to admit a double range of windows.

Dugdale, who wrote in 1640, gives us twenty-two drawings of the arms, in the windows, of those gentry who had connection with Birmingham.

1. Astley. 10. Freville.
2. Sumeri. 11. Ancient Birmingham.
3. Ancient Birmingham. 12. Knell.
4. Ancient Birmingham, 13. Fitz-Warrer.
the 2nd house. 14. Montalt.
5. Seagreve. 15. Modern Birmingham.
6. Modern Birmingham. 16. Hampden.
7. Ancient and modern 17. Burdet.
Birmingham, 18. Montalt.
quartered. 19. Modern Birmingham.
8. Peshale quartering 20. Beauchamp.
Bottetort. 21. Ferrers.
9. Birmingham quartering 22. Latimere.
Wyrley.

These twenty-two coats are now reduced to three, which are,

Number two, in the east window of the chancel, which is _or, two lions passant azure_, the arms of the family of Someri, Lords of Dudley-castle, and superior Lords of Birmingham; which having been extinct about 450 years, the coat of arms must have been there at least during that period.

Number three, in the south window of the chancel, _azure, a bend lozenge of five points, or_, the ancient arms of the family of Birmingham, which perhaps is upwards of 400 years old, as that coat was not used after the days of Edward the First, except in quarterings.

And number ten, in the north window, _or, a cross, indented gules_; also, _five fleurs de lis_, the ancient arms of Freville, Lords of Tamworth, whose ancestor, Marmion, received a grant of that castle from William the Conqueror, and whose descendant, Lord Viscount Townshend, is the present proprietor. Perhaps this coat hath been there 400 years, for the male line of the Freville family, was extinct in the reign of Henry the Fourth.

Under the south window of the chancel, by the door, are two monuments a-breast, of white marble, much injured by the hand of rude time, and more by that of the ruder boys. The left figure, which is very ancient, I take to be William de Birmingham, who was made prisoner by the French, at the siege of Bellegard, in the 25th of Edward the First, 1297. He wears a short mantle, which was the dress of that time, a sword, expressive of the military order, and he also bears a shield with the bend lozenge, which seems never to have been borne after the above date.

The right hand figure, next the wall, is visibly marked with a much older date, perhaps about the conquest. The effigy does not appear in a military character, neither did the Lords of that period. The value of these ancient relicts have long claimed the care of the wardens, to preserve them from the injurious hand of the boys, and the foot of the window cleaner, by securing them with a pallisade. Even Westminster abbey, famous for departed glory, cannot produce a monument of equal antiquity.

At the foot of these, is another of the same materials, belonging to one of the Marrows, Lords of Birmingham.

Under the north east window, is a monument of white marble, belonging to one of the Lords of the house of Birmingham: but this is of modern date compared with the others, perhaps not more than 300 years; he bearing the _parte per pale, indented or, and gules_.

In the church is an excellent organ, and in the steeple a set of chimes, where the ingenious artist treats us with a fresh tune every day of the week.

Upon one of the CENTRE PILLARS.

Here lieth the bodies of William Colmore, Gent. who died in 1607, and Ann his wife, in 1591: also the body of Henry Willoughby, Esq; father to Frances, wife of William Colmore, now living; he died 1609.

NORTH GALLERY.

John Crowley, in 1709, gave twenty shillings per annum, payable out of the lowermost house in the Priory, to be distributed in bread, in the church on St. John's day, to house-keepers in Birmingham, who receive no pay.

Joseph Hopkins died in 1683, who gave 200_l_. with which an estate was purchased in Sutton Coldfield; the rents to be laid out in coats, gowns, and other relief for the poor of Birmingham: he also gave 200_l_. for the poor of Wednesbury: 200_l_. to distresed quakers: 5_l_. 10s. to the poor of Birmingham, and the same sum to those of Wednesbury, at his death.

SAME GALLERY.

Whereas the church of St. Martin's, in Birmingham, had only 52 ounces of plate, in 1708, for the use of the communion table; it was, by a voluntary subscription of the inhabitants, increased to 275--Two flaggons, two cups, two covers and pattens, with cases: the whole, 80_l_. 16s. 6d.

Richard Banner ordered one hundred pounds to be laid out in lands within ten miles of Birmingham; which sum, lying at interest, and other small donations being added, amounted to 170_l_. with which an estate at Erdington, value 81. 10s. per annum, was purchased for the poor of Birmingham.

Richard Kilcup gave a house and garden at Spark-brook, for the church and poor.

John Cooper gave a croft for making of love-days (merriments) among Birmingham men.

William Rixam gave a house in Spiceal-street, No. 26, for the use of the poor, in 1568.

John Ward, in 1591, gave a house and lands in Marston Culey.

William Colmore gave ten shillings per ann. payable out of the house, No. 1, High-street.

John Shelton gave ten shillings per annum, issuing out of a house occupied by Martin Day.

Several of the above donations are included in Lench's trust.

John Peak gave a chest bound with iron for the use of the church; seemingly about 200 years old, and of 200 lb. weight.

Edward Smith gave 20_l_. per ann. to the poor, in 1612, and also erected the pulpit.

John Billingsley, in 1629, gave 26 shillings yearly, chargeable upon a house in Dale-end, to be given in bread, by six-pence every Sunday.

One croft to find bell-ropes.

Richard Dukesayle, in 1630, gave the utensils belonging to the communion table.

Barnaby Smith, 1633, gave 20_l_. to be lent to ten poor tradesmen, at the discretion of the church-wardens for two or three years.

Catharine Roberts, wife of Barnaby Smith, in 1642, gave 20_l_. the interest of which was to be given to the poor, the first Friday in Lent.

John Jennens, 1651, gave 2_l_. 10s. for the use of the poor, born and living in Birmingham; and also 20s. on St. Thomas's day.

John Milward gave 26_l_ per annum, lying in Bordesley: one third to the school-master of Birmingham, (Free-school); one third to the Principal of Brazen nose College, Oxford, for the maintenance of one scholar from Birmingham or Haverfordwest, and the remainder to the poor.

Joseph Pemberton gave 40s. per annum, payable out of an estate at Tamworth, and 20s. out of an estate in Harbourne.

Richard Smallbrook gave to the poor of Birmingham 10s. per annum, arising out of a salt vat in Droitwich.

Robert Whittall gave the pall, or beere cloth.

Widow Cooper, of the Talbot, No. 20, in High-street, gave one towel and one sheet, to wrap the poor in the grave.

Mrs. Jennens gave 10_l_. per annum to support a lecture, the second and third Thursday in every month.

The following offspring of charity seems to have expired at its birth, but rose from the dead a few months ago, after an internment of fifty-four years.

The numerous family of Piddock flourished in great opulence for many ages, and though they were not lords of a manor, they were as rich as those who were: they yet boast, that their ancestors could walk seven miles upon their own land. It sometimes may be prudent, however, to believe only _half_ what a man says; besides, a person with tolerable vigour of limb, might contrive to walk seven miles upon his own land, if he has but one acre--a lawyer is not the only man who can double.

Perhaps they were possessed of the northern part of this parish, from Birmingham-heath to Shirland-brook, exclusive of many estates in the manors of Smethwick and Oldbury.

Their decline continued many years, till one of them, in 1771, extinguished their greatness by a single dash of his pen, in selling the last foot of land.--I know some of them now in distress.

William Piddock, in 1728, devised his farm at Winson-green, about nine acres, to his wife Sarah, during life, and at her death, to his nephews and executors William and John Riddall, their heirs and assigns for ever, in trust, for educating and putting out poor boys of Birmingham; or other discretional charities in the same parish.

But William and John wisely considered, that they could not put the money into any pocket sooner than their own; that as the estate was in the family it was needless to disturb it; that as the will was not known to the world, there was no necessity to publish it; and, as it gave them a discretional power of disposal, they might as well consider themselves _the poor_, for they were both in the parish.

There is nothing easier than to coin excuses for a fault;--there is nothing harder than to make them pass.

What must be his state of mind, who is in continual apprehensions of a disgraceful discovery? No profits can compensate his feelings.

Had the deviser been less charitable, William and John had been less guilty: the gift of one man becomes a temptation to another. These nine acres, from which the donor was to spring upwards, lay like a mountain on the breasts of William and John, tending to press them downwards. Although poverty makes many a rogue, yet had William and John been more poor, they would have been more innocent. The children themselves would have been the least gainers by the bequest, for, without this legacy, they could just as well have procured trades; the profit would have centered in the inhabitants, by softening their levies.--Thus a donation runs through many a private channel, unseen by the giver.

Matters continued in this torpid state till 1782, when a quarrel between the brothers and a tenant, broke the enchantment, and shewed the actors in real view.

The officers, in behalf of the town, filed a bill in Chancery, and recovered the dormant property, which was committed in trust to

John Dymock Griffith,
John Harwood,
Thomas Archer, > Overseers, 1781.
William Hunt,
Joseph Robinson,
James Rollason,

John Holmes, > Constables, 1782.
Thomas Barrs,
Joseph Sheldon,
Charles Primer, > Church-wardens,
William Dickenson,
Edmund Tompkins,

Claud Johnson,
Nathaniel Lawrence,
Edward Homer, > Overseers, 1782.
Thomas Cock,
Samuel Stretch,
Joseph Townsend,
John Startin.

The presentation of St. Martin's was vested in the family of Birmingham, until the year 1537, since which it has passed through the Dudleys, the Crown, the Marrows, the Smiths, and now rests in the family of Tennant.

RECTORS.

1300 Thomas de Hinckleigh.
1304 Stephen de Segrave.
1304 John de Ayleston.
1336 Robert de Shuteford.
1349 William de Seggeley.
1354 Thomas de Dumbleton.
1369 Hugh de Wolvesey.
1396 Thomas Darnall.
1412 William Thomas.
1414 Richard Slowther.
1428 John Waryn.
1432 William Hyde.
1433 John Armstrong.
1433 John Wardale.
1436 Henry Symon.
1444 Humphrey Jurdan.
1504 Richard Button.
1536 Richard Myddlemore.
1544 William Wrixam.
1578 Lucus Smith.

_Thus far Dugdale_.

---- ------ Smith
1641 Samuel Wills.
1654 ------ Slater.
1660 John Riland.
1672 Henry Grove.
---- William Daggett.
---- Thomas Tyrer.
1732 Richard Dovey.
1771 ------ Chase.
1772 John Parsons.
1779 William Hinton, D.D.
1781 Charles Curtis.

During Cromwell's government, ---- Slater, a broken apothecary of this place, having been unsuccessful in curing the body, resolved to attempt curing the soul. He therefore, to repair his misfortunes, assumed the clerical character, and cast an eye on the rectory of St. Martin's; but he had many powerful opponents: among others were Jennens, an iron-master, possessor of Aston-furnace; Smallbroke, another wealthy inhabitant, and Sir Thomas Holt.

However, he with difficulty, triumphed over his enemies, stept into the pulpit, and held the rectory till the restoration.

Being determined, in his first sermon, to lash his enemies with the whip of those times, he told his people, "The Lord had carried him through many troubles; for he had passed, like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, through the _fiery furnace_. And as the Lord had enabled the children of Israel to pass over the Red Sea, so he had assisted him in passing over the _Small-brooks_, and to overcome the strong _Holts_ of sin and satan."

At the restoration, suspecting the approach of the proper officers to expel him from the Parsonage-house, he crept into a hiding-place under the stairs; but, being discovered, was drawn out by force, and the place ever after, bore the name of _Slater's Hole_.

John Riland succeeded him, who is celebrated for piety, learning, and a steady adherence to the interest of Charles the First; in whose cause he seems to have lost every thing he possessed, but his life. He was remarkable for compromising quarrels among his neighbours, often at an expence to himself; also for constantly carrying a charity box, to relieve the distress of others; and, though robbed of all himself, never thought he was poor, except when his box was empty.--He died in 1672, aged 53.

A succeeding rector, William Daggett, is said to have understood the art of boxing, better than that of preaching: his clerk often felt the weightier argument of his hand. Meeting a quaker, whose profession, then in infancy, did not stand high in esteem, he offered some insults, which the other resenting, told him, "If he was not protected by his cloth, he would make him repent the indignity." Dagget immediately stripped, "There, now I have thrown off my protection."

They fought--but the spiritual bruiser proved too hard for the injured quaker.

Among the rectors we sometimes behold a magistrate; at others, those who for misconduct ought to have been taken before one.

The rectory, in the King's books, was valued, in 1291, at 5_l_. per annum; and, in 1536, at 19_l_. 3s. 6d.

_A terrier of the rectory, written by the rector, about 1680_.

A house wherein the present rector, Mr. Dagget, resides. [Parsonage-house.]

Two other houses in Birmingham, [now three, at No. 15, Spiceal-street.]

Three pieces of glebe land, nineteen acres, between the school land and Sheepcoat-lane.

Three pieces, called the Five-way-closes twenty-one acres, bounded by the lands of Samuel Smallbroke, Esq; and Josiah Porter.

One close, two acres, bounded by Lady-wood-lane.

Parsons-meadow, two acres, bounded by the lands of Thomas Smith, Sir Richard Gough, and Sir Arthur Kaye.

Horse pool-croft, half an acre, bounded by Bell's-barn-lane, [Brickiln-lane] the lands of Robert Phillips and Samuel Smallbrook, Esqrs.

Tythe of all kinds of grain: but instead of hay, wool and lamb, a due of 12d. in the pound rent, called herbage, in all the parish, except foreign, wherein the custom is 4d. per acre for meadow land; 3d. per acre for leas; 3d. for each lamb; 1d. 1/2 for a cow and calf: and except part of the estate of William Colmore, Esq; with the Hall-ring, Tanter-butts, Bell's-barns, [No. 1, Exeter-row] and Rings; for the herbage of which is paid annually 13s. 4d. and also, except part of the estate of Samuel Smallbrook, Esq; for which he pays 8s. per annum; and, except the estate of Thomas Weaman, called Whittall's-farm, [Catharine-street] for which he pays 2s. 8d.

All the above estates pay the customary modus, whether in or out of tillage.

SURPLICE FEES.

Rector. Clerk,
s. d. s. d.
For burying in the church, 1 0 1 0
Ditto church-yard, 0 6 0 6
Churching a woman, 0 4 0 4
Marrying by licence, 5 0 2 6
Ditto without, 2 6 1 0
Tythe pig, if seven or upwards, 0 4 0 0
Easter dues, man and wife, 0 4 0 0
---- each person above sixteen, 0 4 0 0
Clerk's salary 20s. paid by the wardens; also 2d.
from each house keeper at Easter.

From the above terrier, I am inclined to value the income at about 90_l_. per annum.

The benefice, in 1771, was about 350_l_. per annum: the late Rector, John Parsons, procured an act, in 1773, to enable the incumbent to grant building leases; the grant of a single lease, in 1777, brought the annual addition of about 170_l_. The income is now about 700_l_. and is expected, at the expiration of the leases, to exceed 2000_l_.

The repairs of the chancel belong to the rector, and the remainder of the building to the parish.

SAINT PHILLIP's.

We have touched upon various objects in our peregrinations through Birmingham, which meet with approbation, though viewed through the medium of smoke; some of these, being covered with the rust of time, command our veneration; but the prospect before us is wholly modern.

We have mounted, by imperceptable gradations, from beauty to beauty, 'till we are now arrived at the summit.

If an historian had written in the last century, he would have recorded but two places of worship; I am now recording the fourteenth: but my successor, if not prevented by our own imprudence, in driving away the spirit of commerce, may record the four-and-twentieth. The artist, who carries the manufactures among foreigners, or the overseer, who wantonly loads the people with burdens, draws the wrath of the place upon his own head.

This curious piece of architecture, the steeple of which is erected after the model of St. Paul's, in London, but without its weight, does honour to the age that raised it, and to the place that contains it. Perhaps the eye of the critic cannot point out a fault, which the hand of the artist can mend: perhaps too, the attentive eye cannot survey this pile of building, without communicating to the mind a small degree of pleasure. If the materials are not proof against time, it is rather a misfortune to be lamented, than an error to be complained of, the country producing no better.

Yet, amidst all the excellencies we boast, I am sorry to charge this chief ornament with an evil which admits no cure, that of not ranging with its own coemetery, or the adjacent buildings: out of seven streets, with which it is connected, it lines with none.--Like Deritend chapel, of which I have already complained, from a strong attachment to a point of religion, or of the compass, it appears twisted out of its place. We may be delighted with a human figure, complete in stature, exactly moulded with symmetry, and set off with the graces of dress; but we should be disgusted, if his right side seemed to attempt to out-walk his left.

This defect, in religious architecture, arises from a strict adherence to the custom of the ancients, who fixed their altars towards the east. It is amasing, that even weakness itself, by long practice, becomes canonical; it gains credit by its age and its company. Hence, Sternhold and Hopkins, by being long bound up with scripture, acquired a kind of scripture authority.

The ground, originally, was part of a farm, and bore the name of the Horse-close; afterwards _Barley-close_.--Thus a benign spot of earth, gave additional spirits to a man when living, and kindly covered him in its bosom when dead.

This well chosen spot, is the summit of the highest eminence in Birmingham, with a descent every way; and, when the church was erected, there were not any buildings nearer than those in Bull-street.

The land was the gift of Robert Phillips, Esq; whence the name, ancestor to William Theodore Inge, Esquire.

In all degrees of people, from the bishop to the beadle, there seems a propensity in the mind to arrive at the honours of Sainthood: by joining our names in partnership with a faint, we share with him a red letter in the almanack.

Out of six churches in Birmingham, three bear the names of the donors. St. Bartholomew's would, probably, have taken that of its founder, John Jennens, Esq; but that name happened to be anticipated by Sir John de Birmingham, who conferred it upon Deritend chapel. St. Mary's could readily perpetuate the name of its benefactress, because we had no place of worship that bore it. But as neither the popish, nor the protestant kalendar produced a St. Charles, the founder of St. Paul's was unfortunately excluded.

The gifts, which the benefactor himself believes are charitable, and expects the world to believe the same, if scrutinized, will be found to originate from various causes--counterfeits are apt to be offered in currency for sterling.

Perhaps _ostentation_ has brought forth more acts of beneficence than charity herself; but, like an unkind parent, she disowns her offspring, and charges them upon charity.