Chapter VI: Part 6

When Archbishop Whately was a Fellow of Oriel, he told this story in the Common Room:—“A cobbler in Somersetshire dreamt that a person told him that if he would go to London Bridge he would meet with something to his advantage. He dreamt the same the next night, and again the night after. He then determined to go to London Bridge, and walked thither accordingly. When arrived there, he walked about the whole of the first day without anything occurring; the next day was passed in a similar manner. He resumed his place the third day, and walked about till evening, when, giving it up as hopeless, he determined to leave London and return home. At this moment a stranger came up and said to him, ‘I have seen you for the last three days walking up and down this bridge; may I ask if you are waiting for anyone?’ The answer was ‘No!’ ‘Then what is your object in staying here?’ The cobbler then frankly told his reason for being there, and the dream that had visited him three successive nights. The stranger then advised him to go home again to his work, and no more pay any attention to dreams. ‘I myself,’ he said, ‘had about six months ago a dream. I dreamed three nights together that, if I would go into Somersetshire, in an orchard, under an apple-tree, I should find a pot of gold; but I paid no attention to my dream, and have remained quietly at my business.’ It immediately occurred to the cobbler that the stranger described his own orchard and his own apple-tree. He immediately returned home, dug under the apple-tree, and found a pot of gold. After this increase of fortune he was enabled to send his son to school, where the boy learnt Latin. When he came home for the holidays, he one day examined the pot which had contained the gold, on which was some writing. He said, ‘Father, I can show you that what I have learnt at school is of some use.’ He then translated the Latin inscription on the pot thus, ‘Look under, and you will find better.’ They did look under, and a larger quantity of gold was found.” This story was as current in Lancashire as in Somersetshire. At Swaffham, in Norfolk, there is a figure of a chapman and his dog. This pedlar popular tradition describes as founding the church out of a treasure found in the manner already described. The story is current also in Cornwall and in Yorkshire. It is narrated as a matter of fact in the history of “Dost in Holland.” But it is found in the Eastern as well as in the Western world. This will be seen from this story which is given in E. W. Lane’s “Arabian Tales and Anecdotes”:—“It is related that a man of Baghdád was possessed of ample riches and great wealth; but his wealth passed away and his state changed, and he became utterly destitute, and could not obtain his sustenance save by laborious exertion. And he slept one night, overwhelmed and oppressed, and saw in his sleep a person who said to him, ‘Verily thy fortune is in Cairo; therefore seek it and repair to it.’ So he journeyed to Cairo; and when he arrived there, the evening overtook him, and he slept in a mosque. Now there was, adjacent to the mosque, a house; and as God (whose name be exalted!) had decreed, a party of robbers entered the mosque, and thence passed to that house; and the people of the house, awaking at the disturbance occasioned by the robbers, raised cries; whereupon the Wálee[13] came to their aid with his followers, and the robbers fled. The Wálee then entered the mosque, and found the man of Baghdád sleeping there: so he laid hold upon him, and inflicted upon him a painful beating with mikra’ahst (the thick end of a palm stick used for beating), until he was at the point of death, and imprisoned him; and he remained three days in the prison; after which, the Wálee caused him to be brought, and said to him, ‘From what country art thou?’ He answered, ‘From Baghdád.’—‘And what affair,’ said the Wálee, ‘was the cause of thy coming to Cairo?’ He answered, ‘I saw in my sleep a person who said to me, ‘Verily thy fortune is in Cairo: therefore repair to it.’ And when I came to Cairo, I found the fortune of which he told me to be those blows of the palm stick that I have received from thee.’—And upon this the Wálee laughed so that his grinders appeared, and said to him, ‘O thou son of little sense, _I_ saw three times in my sleep a person who said to me, ‘Verily a house in Baghdád, in such a district, and of such a description, hath in its court a garden, at the lower end of which is a fountain, wherein is wealth of great amount: therefore repair to it and take it. But I went not: and thou, through the smallness of thy sense, hast journeyed from city to city on account of a thing thou hast seen in sleep, when it was only an effect of confused dreams.’—Then he gave him some money, and said to him, ‘Help thyself with this to return to thy city.’ So he took it and returned to Baghdád. Now the house which the Wálee had described, in Baghdád, was the house of that man; therefore when he arrived at his abode, he dug beneath the fountain, and beheld abundant wealth. Thus God enriched and sustained him; and this was a wonderful coincidence.” This story is found in the “Masnavi,” written by Jaláuddin, who died about A.D. 1260.

It is not always easy or even possible to trace the precise pedigree of a popular superstition or custom, but many of them can be identified as fragments of bygone religious and mythological systems. When an old faith is supplanted by a new, the missionaries, as a matter of tact, will leave untouched customs that are harmless, and will turn to better uses those that can safely be modified or appropriated. Thus much of folk-lore is fossil theology, and much of it is fossil science. The wonderful “cures,” and sometimes disgusting remedies that linger in use among the ignorant, were the recognised methods of the healing art a few generations ago. Folk-lore, in some respect, corresponds to that wonderful faculty of “make-believe” possessed by all children, and is an inheritance from the mental childhood of the race. The physical evils, the mental and moral discordances of life, are to primitive man not the result of the operation of natural law, but abnormal phenomena, the result of external non-human agencies. Disease is not regarded as the result of infractions of hygienic rules, but as the possession of the sufferer by evil spirits. When man looked around for an explanation of the facts of nature, he found it by peopling the world with unseen beings, who guarded the trees and the wells; who let loose the storm and chained up the winds; who had the good and the evil gifts of human nature; who helped and hindered; who cheated and were cheated. These imaginary beings are sometimes merely the distortion and personification of words. It is not every great language that has attained to the dignity of a neuter gender, though our own possesses one. Personification is a common enough rhetorical device. It is possible, then, that if we could accurately analyse the notions of a modern Lancashire mind, we should find in addition to the deliberately-held faith of conviction fragments of the mythologies of Greece and Rome and Scandinavia and India.

In regard to popular traditions and the household stories, so dear to children, they have come to us by many routes, but the line has always been from East to West. The Buddhist missionaries, going forth to preach the faith of Gautama, made abundant use of fables and apologues to enforce their lessons. The traders, as their caravans passed from land to land, beguiled the tedium of the journey with such narratives. The mediæval preachers freely employed them in their discourses to the unlearned people. If such a phrase be permitted, these tales formed the unwritten popular literature of the Middle Ages. The stories passed from mouth to mouth, and were gradually associated with the place and people best known to the narrator. In this way legends become localised.

The tendency of modern thought is to simplification. The African savage, bowing to his fetish, has probably a more complex theory of life than the Oxford professor, and the study of folk-lore shows how penetrating was the influence of custom and superstition upon the life of the people. It followed man from the cradle to the grave. There were ceremonies to be observed at birth, at marriage, at death; at every stage of the journey of life. It gave to clouds and birds omens that decided human fate. It peopled the meadows with fairies, and the mountains with witches; and made the woods and waters alive with spirits, sometimes friendly, but often malignant. It lighted the Beltane fires at Midsummer and the Yule-log at Christmas. The Calendar of the Year and the Calendar of Man’s Life alike registered its decrees. Whatever happened, good or bad, was referred alike to the supernatural powers, who for bane or blessing were continually intervening in the most trivial details of every home. Fairies were sometimes friends and sometimes foes, but witches and warlocks were entirely malicious. The dead rested not in their graves, but returned to terrify the living. The old gods, dethroned from their eminence, remained as demons to exercise a real and usually an evil power. Viewed in this light the decay of folk-lore may be regarded as an advantage. We may regret the nymphs and dryads, and even the “lubber fiend,” but with them vanish the whole tribe of “witches and warlocks and things that cried ‘Boh’ in the night.” We will not desire to revive or retain the popular superstitions and customs of bygone days, but as they pass away let us examine them with careful and patient attention, and see what they have to tell us of the past history of the race and the psychology of primitive man. Studied in this spirit we may sometimes learn as much from the observation of a child’s game as from the speculations of a philosopher.

Footnote 13:

Chief magistrate of the police.

Manchester Grammar School Mill.

In 1883 the Manchester School Mill was acquired by the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Company, in order to make a new road from Long Millgate to Victoria Station. With the destruction of the School Mill there passed away a curious relic of ancient custom, and a link that connected modern Manchester with the quaint old town that stood by Irk and Irwell in the fourteenth century. In the very home of Free Trade there existed a monopoly at least six centuries old. The School Mill claimed the right to grind all the malt that is brewed within the limits of the old town of Manchester. This monopoly is but a fragment of its former privileges, which were abolished as inimical to the general good more than a century ago.

In Roman times as a prime requisite a water mill, it is said, was erected upon the rocky channel of the Medlock below the station and town, on a site which in later times was called Knot Mill. If this be correct, the situation must have been found inconvenient, for the town mill next heard of was situated on the Irk. The right of compelling their vassals to grind at the “lord’s mill,” and to pay such tolls as he might fix, was a valuable privilege to the lord of the manor of a busy and thriving place. When Randle, Earl of Chester, granted the first charter to Salford in 1230, he said in it:—“No burgess ought to bake bread to be sold save at my oven by reasonable custom. If I shall have a mill there the burgesses shall grind at my mill to the twentieth measure, and if I shall not have a mill there they may grind where they will.” When Thomas Grelle, Baron of Manchester, in 1301, granted the charter, by which for many succeeding centuries Manchester was governed, he was careful to remind his burgesses that they should have their corn ground at his mill and their bread baked at his oven, “paying to the aforesaid mill and aforesaid oven the customs as they ought and are wont to do.”

The Grammar School was founded in 1515 by Hugh Oldham, Bishop of Exeter, Hugh Bexwyke, Ralph Hulme, and Joan Bexwyke, and in what respective proportion the institution is due to these worthies may be a matter of doubt. For the endowment of the school they purchased, for a “valuable consideration,” the amount of which is not stated, the lands, rents, and services of the Manchester Corn Mills and all their tolls. Lord La Warr, in thus parting with the ancient soke mills of his manor, merely retained a chief rent, which was then fixed at £9 13s. 4d. The transfer of the mill from the wardens of the college to an independent body of feoffees is set forth in a deed which was executed in 1525, and in which Hugh Bexwyke, clerk, and Joan Bexwyke, widow, state that Thomas West, Knt., Lord La Warr, “did give grant and confirm to them and to Ralph Hulme, deceased, all his lands and tenements, rents, reversions, and services of his water corn mills, called Manchester Mills, situate and being in the town of Manchester, upon the water or rivulet of Irke, running and flowing from and in the town of Manchester and the precincts of the same as far as the water or river of Irwell, flowing between the town of Manchester and the town of Salford, and also of all the tolls soken of the aforesaid mills of all the tenants of the said Lord La Warr in Manchester, and of his sojourners of the same, and of all other residents there.” Further, the same Thomas, Lord La Warr did give, grant, and confirm to them his “fulling mill there, called a walke millne, situate, standing, and being upon the said rivulet or water called Irke; and also his close of land, with its appurtenances, called Walker’s Croft; and also Thomas, Lord La Warr in like manner did give, grant, and confirm to them the aforesaid water or rivulet of Irke, and its free fishery, from a place called Asshelle Lawne as far as the said water or river called Irwell, and also all his lands and tenements adjacent and adjoining, without the several closes and burgage on each side of the same water or rivulet called Irke, flowing in the said town of Manchester, from the place called Asshelle Lawne, into the said river of Irwell.” And farther, the same Thomas, Lord La Warr did give, grant, and confirm to them “full power and authority, and right of making, setting-up, fixing, and attaching mills or messuages, and so many and such weirs, floodgates, and fastenings, to both sides of the same water or rivulet, called Irke, and upon, through, and across the same water, in any places whatsoever, from the said place, called Asshelle Lawne, unto the said water or river of Irwell,” as they or their heirs and assigns should think to be expedient or beneficial for their greater profit or advantage. Lord La Warr also conveyed to the purchasers by the same deed some fulling mills in Ancoats, where there are various evidences of the early practice of textile industries. The value of the Manchester Mills when they were first bought as an endowment for the school was estimated at £47 10s. per annum. Lord La Warr promised that no more mills should be erected within or about the manor of Manchester, and thus ensured to the schools the monopoly of the grinding of the corn and malt for the town. The restraint was probably felt to be injurious at a comparatively early period. In 1556 those who evaded this toll were threatened with amercement, and apparently continued to be undeterred by such threats, for in 1561 it was ordered that “in future” they should forfeit twenty shillings. In 1592 the feoffees had to guard their monopoly against the attack of Anthony Travis, who erected “a horse mill within the town.” The Duchy Court of Lancaster upheld the rights of the monopolists, and actually prohibited the use within the town of even a hand mill or quern mill for the grinding of either corn or malt. If, however, the grain lay at the mill for twenty-four hours unground the owner might take it away to some other mill. In 1608 a horse mill was ordered to be destroyed. During the Commonwealth the people of the town had freedom in this matter, and they used it so that the revenues of the school began to diminish very rapidly. An order of Parliament was obtained in 1647, and the mills were then leased to Mr. John Hartley for £130 per annum. The new lessee established his right against two hardy individuals who had set up a common brewhouse in the college, which they contended owed no suit or service to the School Mills. The decision went against them. In 1701 some persons who had erected mills in Salford were prosecuted for having customers who ought to have ground at the Manchester Mills. They were ordered not to receive any corn or malt for grinding from any of the inhabitants of Manchester. In 1728 some persons who had erected a brewhouse in Salford and sold ale and beer to the burgesses of Manchester were required “under pain of forfeiting £100 to have all their corn and malt that should be spent ground in their houses at the School Mills.” The farmers of the mill at this time made an attempt to obtain a judgment that should include oats, which had not been ground at the School Mills for two generations. The Judges, however, insisted that an issue ought to be directed for trying the custom at common law. This the farmers did not think expedient, and so they dropped the suit and paid the costs. In 1732 they were successful in restraining Sir Oswald Mosley from using a malt mill which he had erected in Hanging Ditch. It will easily be understood that the tenants of the mills were exceedingly unpopular with the inhabitants. Witty John Byrom, in an epigram which became proverbial, thus lampooned the two of them, who from their spare forms had been nicknamed Skin and Bone:—

“Bone and Skin, two millers thin,
Would starve the town, or near it;
But be it known to Skin and Bone
That Flesh and Blood won’t bear it.”

This was written in 1737, and there was something prophetic in the quatrain, for in 1757, when the pressure of hard times was severely felt, there was a fatal riot arising out of the popular feeling against the monopoly. On June 6th the provisions brought by the farmers to the market were seized by the mob, and a considerable quantity was destroyed. The approach of harvest would, it was hoped, bring something of peace and plenty, but when this anticipation proved delusive, the patience of the people was exhausted, and a large assembly from Saddleworth, Oldham, and other parts, having destroyed a corn mill at Clayton, advanced to Shudehill. They were met, however, by Mr. James Bayley, who was then high sheriff of the county, and who had with him a party of soldiers and a large number of the well-to-do inhabitants on horseback. The rioters, confident that the soldiers would not fire upon them, proceeded to various acts of violence. The goods in the market were seized, the troops were pelted with stones, and one of the soldiers was killed on the spot. This was more than the military were likely to endure, and on receiving orders they fired, and in the ensuing struggle four of the rioters were killed and fifteen wounded. This unhappy occurrence probably had its share in the formation of that public opinion which in 1758 led to the passing of an Act of Parliament for the regulation of the mills. This Act stated that in consequence of the increase of population, it was desirable to free the inhabitants of Manchester from their obligation to grind at the School Mills any corn or grain whatsoever, malt only excepted. The exception was made on the ground that the mills were adequate to the task of grinding all the malt needed. The charge was fixed at “one shilling and no more for the grinding of one load containing six bushels or twenty-four pecks of malt of Winchester measure,” instead of the twenty-fourth part which had previously been taken. The monopoly in this modified form continued to our day.

Formerly the privilege was valuable, and though the profit was devoted to a good cause, it is instructive to note the economical effect. The restriction was always irksome to the brewers, and it is observable that all modern local breweries have been erected just outside the boundaries of the township of Manchester, as, for instance, in Moss Side, Hulme, Cheetham, Ardwick, and Gorton. No new breweries have been built for many years in Manchester proper.

It will be seen from this rapid retrospect that the Manchester Grammar School Mills have a written history extending from the year 1301, and a tradition that carries them generations further back.

The Rising of 1715.

England, it has been epigramatically said, is governed by reactions. There is more truth in the remark than is usually found in smart sayings. There is an ebb and flow in the political tide, the waves which thunder against the bulwarks and threaten to overwhelm the peaceful town beyond them, fall calmly back again to their sandy bed. An example of this phenomenon we have in the intense Jacobitism of Lancashire at the commencement of the last century. Lancashire was not without gallant cavaliers who charged for the “King and the Laws” behind the fiery Rupert, but the county at large swore by the Parliament and struck some hard blows at the “Lord’s anointed.” The memorable “petition for peace” was drawn up by a Manchester man, and the first victims of that civil war which was to drench England with blood, were inhabitants of that town. It was natural then to expect that the pendulum should swing right to the other extreme of its line, and that the descendants of those who had pulled down the monarch from his throne, and consigned him to the traitor’s block, should be sticklers for the right divine of kings to govern wrong, should risk fortune, life, and limb, to replace on the throne of his ancestors the double dealing James and his unfortunate descendants. There were some special causes which strengthened the hands of the Jacobites in this quarter. The Roman Catholics were distinguishable by their steady, unalterable loyalty to the House of Stuart, and the persecution to which they were subjected from the reign of Elizabeth downwards, only served to strengthen their attachment. The jealousy of the Low Church men, and the bitter antagonism of the Puritans was sufficient to defeat any amelioration of their condition which the Sovereign might desire, but in their sufferings they recollected that both Charles and his brother had been desirous of extending to them toleration for the exercise of their religion. The Dissenters, however, chose to endure the severities of the Test Act themselves, rather than do anything to hinder the harrying and persecution of the Romanists. The Roman Catholics had natural friends in the High Church men, who held in all fulness the doctrine of the divine right, and consequently the unlawfulness of the tenure by which King William and George I. held the throne. The clearness and distinctness with which this opinion was formulated must be considered if we would understand the motive power of the Jacobite rebellions.

According to them the King was God’s representative on earth, and unconditional obedience was due to all his commands. He might be a drunken, licentious scoundrel, a perjured villain, a red-handed murderer, a raving madman, but nothing on earth could invalidate his inborn kingly right, and whoso disobeyed him, was false to God and to his country. This opinion was supported by a second theory as to the patriarchal origin of monarchy. Adam and Abraham exercised regal power, therefore it was “unnatural for the people to govern or choose governors.” Charles II. is but an odd looking patriarch, although like the King of Yvetot, his subjects had a hundred reasons for calling him their father. However, as the learned O’Flaherty in his “Ogygia” tells us that the Stuarts were descended in a direct line from Adam (which is probable), and that it was the 124th generation that ascended the Scottish throne, Charles might perhaps claim his monarchical privileges as heir general of the Father of Mankind.

This leading doctrine of the High Church party was closely wedded to a sentiment of bitter dislike of the Protestant Dissenters. The impeachment of Sacheverell, the High Church clergyman, for his denunciation of the revolution of 1688, and of the principles which had brought it about, roused to fever heat all the evil passions of the time. His punishment (three years’ prohibition from preaching) was so slight as to be almost a triumph. In 1714 a bill for the repression of Schism was only prevented from coming in force by the death of Queen Anne.

The accession of George I. was a tremendous blow for the Jacobites, and in Manchester they went mad with rage. The Pretender’s birthday, Friday, the 10th of June, was fittingly selected as the time for wreaking their revenge on the Dissenters. On that day various places in England were disgraced by riotous mobs drinking health to King James, and breathing fiery vows of vengeance against the Presbyterians. The Manchester mob was second to none. The town was in a state of anarchy for days, and King Mob had it all his own way. With beating of drums they enlivened their marches, and with fiery potations inflamed their loyalty and piety. Woe to the luckless Nonconformist who came in their way! The riot was not unlike a rebellion. They had their recognised leaders: a colonel, whose name forgetful history has nowhere recorded; and a captain, Thomas Syddal, a sturdy blacksmith, the end of whose brawling life was not far off. They had the tacit encouragement of Jacobite magistrates, who left the rabble masters of the situation. The only Dissenting meeting-house in Manchester was in Acresfield, and is now known as Cross Street Unitarian Chapel. Headed by the valiant Syddal, these friends of the ancient constitution in Church and State attacked the humble meeting-house, and wrecked it completely. The bare walls were all the vestiges they left of the lowly house of prayer. So fine a performance did the mob consider it, that with infinite gusto they repeated it at Monton, Blackley, and in fact all the meeting-houses that fell in their way as they marched toward Yorkshire. Things were assuming so serious an aspect, and the local authorities were so unable or unwilling to check it effectually, that the Government had to interpose with a military force. It was not until there had been a fortnight’s carnival of riot and outrage that the Earl of Stair dispersed the Manchester band, and took prisoners its leading men. Occasional outbreaks in various places continued until the end of July. The House of Commons petitioned the King for the vigorous enforcement of the law, the punishment of neglectful justices, and the compensation from the public funds of the sufferers. The destruction of religious meeting-houses was declared to be felony without benefit of clergy, and, £1,500 was granted to the Protestant Dissenters of Manchester for the repair of their temple.

Syddal and his colonel were tried at Lancaster Assizes in August. In pursuance of their sentence they both decorated the pillory on the market day, whilst some looked on with scorn and more with sympathy. They were tenderly treated, for no man was allowed to fling anything at them; thus they escaped the worst part of the ordeal. From the pillory back to jail, and there they lay until their prison gates were opened by the army of James III. The High Church faction were a loose-living, hard-drinking race, fonder of confusing their brains by drinking “Confusion to the Elector of Hanover” than of striking home an honest blow for the King over the water. Their conspiracies were of the pot-house order, concocted over a flowing punch-bowl. They exaggerated probably even to themselves the strength of their party, and when the Scottish Jacobites (with whom the struggle was chiefly for the ancient integrity and independence of their kingdom) determined to raise the standard of the Pretender, they had received assurances that twenty thousand Lancashire men would join their forces. On the faith of these promises the Fiery Cross was sent flaming round the Highlands, and the rebellion, which, if confined to Scotland, would have had strong chances of success, was to be a general one. The Earl of Derwentwater and the Roman Catholic gentlemen of Northumberland effected a junction with the two Scottish armies at Kelso. This is not the place to chronicle the movements of the rebel army, their want of purpose, or their internal dissensions. The incompetence of their leader, a country squire turned into a general, whose jealousy of the military reputation of grim old Brigadier Mackintosh led him to reject wise counsel, brought on the fatal catastrophe which awaited them. At Langholm they were met by Lord Widdrington, who assured them of Lancashire aid and sympathy, and this determined at last their course of action. They marched into England, but not without misgivings on the part of the leaders, and many desertions on the part of the Highlanders, who were bitterly opposed to leaving Scotland. They were joined by very few men in their English march, the leaders were thoroughly dispirited, and Mackintosh, tough old soldier as he was, looked gloomily at the cheerless prospect before them.

At Kendal their cheerfulness was somewhat restored by the appearance of Lord Widdrington’s brother with news that Lancashire was ready to rise, that James III. had that day been proclaimed King at Manchester, where the townspeople had undertaken to furnish a troop of fifty men at their own expense, and where many volunteers might be expected. Instead of marching on Newcastle, where the Whig general was hurrying to meet them, they determined to advance to Lancaster. The loyalists were completely surprised at this descent into Lancashire. Sir Henry Houghton was at the head of a body of militia numbering 600. He could not obtain the aid of some dragoons who were stationed in Preston, but refused to stir without orders from London, and he was forced to retreat on Preston, and the army of King James took peaceful possession of the town with trumpets sounding, and the bare swords of the gentlemen glittering gaily as they rode triumphantly forward. The prisoners in the castle were now released from durance vile, and Syddal—Captain Syddal, as he was styled—attached himself to the regiment of the Earl of Derwentwater. Perhaps he was one of the lucky gentlemen soldiers, who dressed “in their best clothes,” went to drink a dish of tea with the ladies of Lancaster, which fair Jacobites were also “in their best rigging, and had their tea tables richly furnished for to entertain their new suitors.” On the 9th of November they marched to Preston, and were greatly encouraged by learning that the dragoons already mentioned had quitted that town. Less pleasing to them was the conduct of Peploe the curate, who had the courage to read with extra emphasis and unction the prayers for King George and his family. At Preston the rebels remained inactive, seemingly careless of the danger which threatened them. Carpenter was hastening from Newcastle, and a second force was hastening in detachments from the west to be placed under the command of General Wills in the neighbourhood. The plan of the campaign was drawn up by no less a man than Marlborough. On the 8th Wills passed through Manchester and found the town so disaffected that he quartered a thousand men in it, greatly to the disgust of the High Church Tories, some of whom were arrested, whilst others fled, or remained in concealment. Whilst the rebels were “feasting and courting” in Preston, bewitched by the Jacobite charms of what was then the most aristocratic and luxurious of the Lancashire towns, wasting the precious hours in contented lotos-eating, the Whigs were full of activity. Even Dissenting ministers in more than one case marched at the head of their congregations with muskets, scythes mounted on poles, and everything that could be tortured into weapons of offence, and joined the army of General Wills to fight for liberty and the Protestant succession. The Rev. James Woods, of Chowbent, was conspicuous in this way, and for the rest of his life was commonly known as “General” Woods.

Notwithstanding the military genius of Mackintosh who now planned the defence, the rebels after some hard fighting, on the arrival of Carpenter found themselves hopelessly surrounded. They sent Colonel Oxburgh to treat with Wills for a capitulation. “I will not treat with Rebels; they have killed several of the King’s subjects, and they must expect to undergo the same fate.” Such was Wills’ alternative, unconditional surrender, and only one hour in which to decide. This secret negotiation exasperated the Highlanders, who swore they would die fighting, and vowed they would shoot their muddle-headed General Forster if they had the chance. The time for consideration was afterwards extended after a further conference with some of the Scotch officers, who pledged themselves to a cessation from arms. Some six or seven rebels were, notwithstanding, cut to pieces in an attempt to escape. Mackintosh was now a hostage in the hands of the King’s forces, and on the 13th of November the defenders of Preston surrendered at discretion. Many of the rebels escaped, but the number of prisoners was 1,569.

The rebellion begun hastily and ignorantly, carried on through all its course with dissensions, quarrels, and the most lamentable incompetence, had arrived at its ignominious end, so far as England was concerned. Preston was for some time given up to plunder, and the prisoners reserved for retribution, in divers jails of Lancashire and Cheshire. The House of Hanover was never noticeable for mercy, and the retribution was a bloody one.

The landing of James in Scotland did no good at all. Above a thousand of the rebels were transported, some of the leaders amongst them; Forster and the brave old Mackintosh escaped, the one by fraud, the other by force. The number who were executed is not known. The hangman had a triumphant progress through Lancashire. On the eleventh of February, 1716, there came into Manchester a melancholy cavalcade. Bound to one horse by strong cords and surrounded by guards, there rode into the town dashing Tom Syddal, the former leader of the High Church mob in destroying the Dissenting chapels, and with him four others who had been condemned to death. They were hanged, drawn, and quartered, at Knott Mill. Syddal’s head was afterwards fixed on the Market Cross.

The Fool of Lancaster.

“Take gifts with a sigh, most men give to be paid.”—J. B. O’REILLY.
_Rules of the Road._

This story, which is told in “Jack of Dover,” 1604, is instructive if not amusing:—“There was of late (quoth another of the jurie) a ploughman and a butcher dwelling in Lancaster who, for a trifling matter (like two fooles), went to law, and spent much money therein, almost to both their undoings; but at last, being both consented to be tride by a lawyer dwelling in the same town, each of them, in hope of a further favour, bestowed gyftes upon him. The ploughman first of all presented him a cupple of good fat hens, desiring Mr. Lawyer to stand his good friend, and to remember his suite in law, the which he courteously tooke at his handes, saying that what favour he could show him, he should be sure of the uttermost. But now, when the butcher heard of the presenting of these hens by the ploughman, hee went and presently killed a good fatte hogge, and in like manner presented it to the lawyer, as a bribe to draw him to his side; the which he also tooke very courteously, and promised the like to him as he did before to the other. But so it fell out, that shortly after the verdict passed on the butcher’s side; which when the ploughman had notice of, he came to the lawyer, and asked him wherefore his two hens were forgotten. Mary, quoth he, because there came in a fatte hogge and eate them up. Now a vengeance take that hog! quoth the ploughman, that eate both my suit in law and hens together! Well, quoth Jacke of Dover, this in my minde was pretty foolery, but yet the foole of all fooles is not heere found, that I looked for.”

This seems to have been a rather favourite jest, for it is given also in the “Pleasant Conceits of Old Hobson,” 1607, and in the “Mery Tales,” 1530, and is one of the mediæval jokes given by Wright in his “Latin Stories” (Percy Society).

Alexander Barclay and Manchester.

Probably the first purely literary reference to Manchester is that contained in the first eclogue of Alexander Barclay. Of the two shepherds who carry on a dialogue, Cornix is the chief speaker, and graphically pourtrays the miseries of life at court. Early in the conversation comes this passage:—

_Cornix._

. . . . . .
Thus all be fooles which willingly there dwell,
Coridon, the court is the bayting place of hell.

_Coridon._

That is hardly saide man, by the roode of rest.

_Cornix._

I graunt it is harde, but to say truth is best,
But yet shall I proue my saying veritable,
Aduert my wordes, see if I be culpable.
Unto our purpose: by diuers wayes three
Men may be fooles, I shall them count to thee:
They all be fooles which set their thought and minde
That thing for to seke which they shall neuer finde.
And they be fooles which seke thing with delite,
Which if they finde is harm and no profite;
And he is a foole, a sotte, and a geke also,
Which choseth a place unto the same to go,
And where diuers wayes lead thither directly
He choseth the worst and most of ieopardie:
As if diuers wayes laye unto Islington,
To Stow on the Wold, Quaueneth or Trompington,
To Douer, Durham, to Barwike or Exeter,
To Grantham, Totnes, Bristow, or good Manchester,
To Roan, Paris, to Lions or Floraunce.

_Coridon._

What ho man abide, what already in Fraunce.
Lo, a fayre journey, and shortly ended to,
With all these townes what thing have we to do?

_Cornix._

By God man knowe thou that I haue had to do
In all these townes and yet in many mo,
To see the worlde in youth me thought was best,
And after in age to geue my selfe to rest.

_Coridon._

Thou might haue brought one and set by our village.

_Cornix._

What man I might not for lacke of cariage.
To cary mine owne selfe was all that euer I might,
And sometime for ease my sachell made I light.

_Coridon._

To our first matter we better must entende,
Els in twelue monthes we scant shall make an ende.

(_Spenser Society’s Reprint_, pp. 5-6.)

This passage has not escaped the notice either of Mr. T. H. Jamieson, who has edited Barclay’s translation of the “Stultifera Navis,” or of Dr. A. W. Ward, who has written his life in the “Dictionary of National Biography,” and puts the query that Godmanchester may be meant. The eclogue from which the quotation is taken, together with two others, are said to be “gathered out of a booke named in Latin, ‘Miseriæ Curialium,’ compiled by Æneas Silvius, Poet and Oratour.” This, of course, means that member of the Piccolomini family, who, after an earlier life not free from reproach, made a decorous pontiff, as Pope Pius II., and died in 1464. This book, drawn from his own experience of the unhappy life of courtiers, was the most popular of all his writings. It was often reprinted, but whether Barclay worked from a printed or a MS. copy is not known. Now, what his principles of translation were we know, both from his declaration and practice. In his version of Brandt’s “Ship of Fools,” he tells how he added and omitted as seemed best for his purpose of producing a book that should aid in strengthening the morality of the time. And in dealing with Æneas Sylvius, he has been even freer than in dealing with Brandt. Of the “Miseriæ Curialium,” there are several editions in the British Museum, and those of Paris (1475?), Cologne (1468?), Rome (1485? and 1578), have been examined for me by Dr. W. A. Shaw, to whom my best thanks are due for his kindness. “The book,” he says, “of Æneas Sylvius is in prose, and, in epistolary form addressed to ‘dñō Johī de Arch Pspicaci et claro Jurū cōsulto.’ There is none of the eclogue and dialogue form of Barclay’s work; there are no interlocutors, and there are no references, save to such names of classical antiquity as serve for satirical notice, in, say, Juvenal, with the exception that, in the section treating of the table and pleasures of eating, he refers briefly to the place of origin of the better known delicacies. There is no mention of Manchester, nor of England, from first to last, nor any possibility of it from the style of the letter, and taking it casually, side by side with Barclay, I cannot find a parallel point which would suggest a translation.”

We may, therefore, probably regard the passage as strictly autobiographical, and conclude that, in his wandering life as a preaching friar, Barclay, at some time or other, visited Manchester. From internal evidences, the eclogues are assigned to the year 1514, but it is curious that whilst there is a long reference to the death of John Alcock, Bishop of Ely, in 1500, there is none to his successors, Redmayne (1501) or Stanley (1509). The early editions of the eclogues are undated, and the first three eclogues were apparently issued before the others. There are many points of interest in regard to the life and work of Alexander Barclay, which cannot be discussed in directing attention to one of the earliest—probably the very earliest—purely literary mention of a place that in after ages has not been without claims to distinction in literature and science. The date of Barclay’s birth is conjecturally, but with tolerable certainty, fixed in 1476, and he died in 1552. Since the biographies by Mr. Jamieson and Dr. Ward were written, some fresh information has appeared in Mr. James Gairdner’s “Letters and Papers of the reign of Henry VIII.,” vol. xiii., pt. 2 (1893). These show that whilst Barclay was conscious of ecclesiastical abuses and desirous of their reform, he was an object of suspicion to those who were carrying out the work of the suppression of the monasteries, and ran some risk by his retention of the distinctive habit of the friars. Robert Ward writes on October 9th, 1538, to Cromwell that at Barking, Suffolk, when Barclay preached there in the Whitsun holidays, he did not declare the King’s supremacy. Ward states that he reproached the preacher for not doing so, but does not record his answer. On October 12th, William Dynham writes to Cromwell: “Of late I came to the priory of St. Germayne in Cornwall, and sat at supper with the Prior, accompanied by Alexander Barckley, who the day before preached in honour of the Blessed Virgin, but not so much to the edifying of his audience as his demeanour next day was, I heard, to their destruction. At supper I moved such questions as I thought might do good to the audience. He served my purpose, till, ‘after a sodeyne dompe, he brake silence, as a man that had spoken too well (and yet a frere in a somewhat honester weed),’ and glorified himself. He first protested he would preach no new things, not set out by the King and his Council. I answered, wondering what he meant, when all men of literature and judgment ‘knew that our so Christian a Prince and his Council set forth no new thing but the gospel of Christ, and the sincere verity thereof.’ Barckley replied, ‘I would to God that at the least the laws of God might have as much authority as the laws of the realm.’ Asked him what he meant, and Barckley said, Nothing, but he thought men were too busy pulling down images without special commandment of the Prince. Dynham answered, he knew none pulled down, except such as idolatry was committed unto, and reminded him ‘of St. Margarets Patent is rode’ (the rood of St. Margaret Pattens in London), and the assembly, although somewhat dispraised, yet for the intent and good fact thereof, tolerated. Here, he demanded, what followed thereof? I requiring him to answer his demand, he said I knew how many tenements and some people were burnt soon upon. ‘What, Barckley?’ said I, ‘here is somewhat moved; ye have a versatile ingeyne, but were ye so sleper as an eel, here will I hold you. Would you infect this audience with that opinion, that God for such cause plagued them? Your cankered heart is disclosed. My true little stomach, with reverence of the prior and his board, must be opened lest it break. You are, Barckley, a false knave and a dissembling frere. You get no pence might I rule here. You seek your own profit vocall to hinder the truth more than unity to set forth the true and princely endeavour of our most Crysten, and of his church Supremest Head, most laudable enterprises; whereof, I trust, thou shalt hear.’”

Writing to Cromwell on October 28th, Latimer says that “A man has written to him that Frere Bartlow does much hurt in ‘Corwall and in Daynshyre,’ both with open preaching and private communication. Suspects he has some comfort from Rome, through Dr. Nycolasse.’ The Abbot of Evesham, the bearer, asks Latimer to thank Cromwell for him. Thinks he will find few who will better remember his kindnesses. He seems a very civil and honest man, and one who puts all his trust in Cromwell. Requests Cromwell to maintain him in his right to what he has obtained by his goodness.” These passages enable Mr. Gairdner to identify the subject of this anecdote told by Foxe, the Martyrologist: “Hereunto also pertaineth the example of Friar Bartley, who wearing still his friar’s cowl after the suppression of religious houses, Cromwell coming through Paul’s Churchyard, and espying him in Rheines’s shop. ‘Yea,’ said he, ‘will not that cowl of yours be left off yet? And if I hear by one o’clock that this apparel be not changed, thou shalt be hanged immediately, for example to all others.’ And so, putting his cowl away, he durst never wear it after.” It is satisfactory to know that he survived these dangers, received some preferment, and died peaceably in 1552.

Index.

Accrington, 35

Acson, Thomas, 89

Actors, French, in London, 62

Adam, progenitor of Scottish kings, 233

Adams, Roger, printer, 40

Adlington, 96

Advertisements, 61, 65, 69

Æneas Sylvius, 248

Agarde, Arthur, 80

Alchemy, 83

Alcock, Bishop, John, 247, 249

Ale, 176

Algerine pirates, 47

Algiers, 47, 53

Allen, Gabriel, 94;
Cardinal Witham, 94

Allenson, Rev. Mr., 11

Amber, 57, 58

Ancoats, 226

Annapolis, 18

Anderton family, secret printing press, 39

Arab trade with Europe, 57

Ardwick, 230

Asshelle Lawne, 225

Assheton, Edmund, 96

Assheton crest, 81

Ashton, Sir Thomas, 83, 84

Atkinson, F. R., 185

Babelon, Ernest, 56

Babies for sale, 70

Babs, 71

Bacup, 33

Bailey, Mrs., centenarian, 29

Baker, Daniel, drowned, 97;
Sir Thomas, 61, 65

Bamfield or Bampfield, Francis, 42;
Sir John, 42;
Thomas, 42

Bamford, Samuel, 173, 175;
trial, 184

Banbury, 68

Bankes, Legh, 10, 11

Baptist preacher and sea captain, 46

Barcelona, 45

Barclay, Alexander, career of, 245;
mention of Manchester, 246

Barley-bird, 76

Barton-in-Kendal, 30

Bauwens, Liévin, 119

Baxter, John, 93

Baxter, William, centenarian, 66

Bayley, Christopher, 94;
James, 229

Bedloe, William, 14

Beggarwoman’s fortune, 64

Belfast, 36

Belgium and spinning machinery, 119

Belgrade, 64

Bell, James, priest, executed, 93

Berry, John, printer, journalist, etc., 61, 65, 70

Bexwyke, Hugh, 223, 224;
Joan, 223, 224

Bickerstaffe, 26

Bickersteth, Anne, centenarian, 30

Billinge, Anne, 37;
Charles, 37;
Lydia, 37;
Margaret, 37;
Mary, centenarian, 36;
William, 37

Birds’ feathers, 77

Birds’ language, 76

Birley, Capt., 183;
H. H., 185

Birmingham, 186, 196

Blackbird, 77

Blackburn, 30, 78

Blackley, 235

Blackpool, 33

Blainscough, 93

Blake, Admiral, 45

Blakesley, Mrs., centenarian, 27

Blanketeers, 174

Blue titmouse, 77

Blundell, William, trial, 4, 24

Boardman, Mrs., centenarian, 29

Boardman, Bolton dwarf, 136

Boggart, flitting, 210

Bolton, 24, 94, 112, 136

Bolton Percy, 88

Bone and Skin, 228

Booksellers, 61, 65

Booth of Barton, 95

Boothe, Anne, 90;
John, 90;
Marget, 90

Boston, Mass., 19

Bowker, James, 201

Bradshaw, Rev. Joseph, 88

Bradford, 61, 65

Bradley, Mr., 61, 65

Braidley, B., 185

Branded for roguery, 9

Brandwood, Ellin, centenarian, 27

Bread baking, 223

Brereton, Col. Uriah, 9, 12

Brereton, Sir Urian, 87

Brierley, Ben, 200

Briscoe, William, centenarian, 28

Bristol, 18, 62;
murder at, 17

Broadnax or Broadneux, Major Robert, centenarian, 25

Brome, H., 42

Bromfield, Dr., a Jacobite Quaker, 5

Brookes, Rev. Joshua, 34

Brookes, Mrs., 69

Brooks, John, 186

Breweries, 227, 230

Buckinger, Matthew, death of, 64

Buddhist stories, 219

Burnley, 24, 28, 204

Burt, James, 192

Bury, 30, 68

Byrom, John, 228

Cannel coal ornaments, 112

Canterbury, Archbishop of, 192

Cape Hone, 51

Carlisle, 34

Carmarthen, 17

Carpenter, General, 239

Carr, 28

Catharine of Liverpool, 163

Cecil, Lady Mildred, 95

Centenarians, Lancashire, 22-38

Chaderton, William, Bishop of Chester, 91, 92, 93

Chaffinch, 77

Chambers’s Cyclopædia, 65

Chapels wrecked, 235

Charles II., 47, 233;
and Quaker sailor, 53

Cheetham, 230

Cheetham Hill, 36

Chester, 44, 61, 65

Chetham, Humphrey, 98

Childe of Hale, 133

Children, marriage of, 82, 86

Chimney, 87

China blue, 34

Chorlton, 94, 195

Chorlton-on-Medlock, 34

Chorlton, Alexander, 89

Chowbent, 240

Church porch marriages, 84

Church sites supernaturally changed, 204

Churchdown, 204

Circulating library, 144

Clavell’s catalogue, 42

Clay soils, 75

Clayton, 229

Clayton, William, centenarian, 29

Clifton, Sir Thomas, trial, 4, 5

Clitheroe, 27, 72

Clowes, Rev. John, 159

Coal ornaments, 112

“Cock nests,” 75

Cockerell, James, centenarian, 24

Cockerham, 7, 203

Coffee, 176

Colliers’ wages, 62

Cooper, Bishop, and Martin Marprelate, 39

Cooper, Dr. Thomas, 167

Cork, 64

Corn mill, 223

Corpse arrested for debt, 67

Cotton, 75

Coward, Timothy, centenarian, 25

Crawford, Sir James, 122

Creeper, 76, 77

Crest, Trafford, 80

Crossley, Frances, centenarian, 29

Croxteth, 7, 12

Cruikshank, the surgeon, 15, 22

Crumpsall, 35

Cuba, 67

Cuerdale, Kufic coins found at, 56

Curril, Elizabeth, centenarian, 29

Dacre, Lord, 186

Danes’ commerce with the East, 60

David le Seintpier, 83

Davis, Mr., 61, 65

Deacon, Anne, a rich beggar, 63

Deer, red, 26

De Quincey, Thomas, account of a highwayman, 15

Derby, 195

Derby, Earl of, 39

Derwentwater, Earl of, 237

Dettingen Battle, 31

Detrosier, Rowland, 189

Devil in folk-lore, 203, 212

Dialect, 106, 113

Diamond, Dr., 37

Dickenson, Mrs. Margaret, 64

Dicconson, Roger, 11, 13

Dicconson, William, trial, 3, 4, 7, 9

Disley, 25

Dissenters and Test Act, 232

Divine right, 233

Divorce, 87

Dixon, Elijah, 186, 195

Dog, mad, 68

Dolls, 70

Doni, Antonio Francisco, 208

Downes, Francis, 97;
John, 97;
Roger, 97

Dream, story of, 213

Dress, 113

Driving the stags, 26

Duberdo, Isaac, centenarian, 27

Dublin working schools, 64

Dudley, Earl of, 196

Duel, 81

Dukenhalgh, 7, 12

Dunstanville, Lord de, 186

Dwarf, 136

Dyer, J. C., 188

Dyeing, 34-35

Dynham, William, 250

Eccles, 83

Eccleston, Thomas, 3

Eels, 78

Eldon, Lord, 186

Elell, 27

Ellis, William, centenarian, 28

Enfield, 28

Everton, 37

Eveson, Susan, centenarian, 28

Executions, 63, 93, 242

Exon, 62

Eyre, Sir Giles, 12, 13

Fables, migration, 219

Fairies, 221

Faloghys, Thomas, 85

Featherstone’s doom, 204

Felons, prosecution, 68

ffarington, William, 99

Fielden, John, 195

“Fighting sailor turned peaceable Christian,” 54

Finch, John, recusant, executed, 93

Finger nails, 203

Fish ova artificial impregnation, 74

Fleming, Jane, 36

Fleming, Mr., centenarian, 27

Fleming the spy, 172

Fletcher, Mrs., 157

Flodden Field, 86

Folk-Lore of Lancashire, 197

Fool of Lancaster, 243

Ford, William, 41-42

Footpad, 67

Forster, General, 241, 242

Fox, George, and Thomas Lurting, 47-48

French players, 62

Friends, early, 46-55

Friers, Roger, centenarian, 25

Fulling mills, 226

Funeral, 88;
by torchlight, 96;
sermon, 96

Gainsburgh, William of, 153

Gairdner, James, 249

Gale, Miss, 68;
Roger, 68

Gamul, story of, 206

Gardner, Martha, centenarian, 37-38

Garnett, Richard, 70;
Dr. Richard, 70;
Jeremiah, 78;
Thomas, biographical notice, 72

Garstang, 27, 30

Gaskell, Mrs., her “Squire’s Story,” 15-21

George IV., 187

Gerard, Sir W., 3, 100

“Gesta Romanorum,” 208

Giants, 130

Gibson, Rev. T. E., 25

Glasgow, 34

Glass trade, 69

Glave family in Wigan, 32

Glover, Mr., centenarian, 27

Gomme. G. L., 199

Goosnargh, 7

Gorton, 230