Chapter III: Preface (2)

Parted per pale first Chequy * * and * *, second, Paly of six * * and *
*, a Canton Ermine.

Parted per pale first Chequy * * and * *, second * * a Chevron, * *
between three Helmets.

ARMS ON CEILING OF CHAPEL.—Quarterly—first and fourth, Chequy * * and *
*, second and third, * * a cross Flory * *.

SHIELD OF ARMS IN WHAT WAS ORIGINALLY THE LARGE DINING HALL
BELOW.—Quarterly—first Chequy, * * and * *, second * *, a cross Flory *
*, third * *, a fess Chequy * * and * *, between ten Billets * *,
fourth * *, a fess * *, thereon three Bugle Horns * *, stringed * *,
garnished * *, between three Bucks’ Heads cabossed * *.

Crest: Ostrich.

There are also coats of arms over the gatehouse of the Brooke family, {37} those over the window and doorway being—

Party per pale. First Chequy * * * and * * *. Second paly of Six, and
a Canton Ermine.

On the right tower—

Paly of Six * * * and * * * with Canton Ermine.

On this tower also is an heraldic rose, and on the left * *, a Cross
Pommee, * *.

The first entry of an interment in the register at Claverley, the vicar tells us, is that of a Brooke, and the second entry in the register at Madeley is also the interment of a member of the same family.

Subsequent and more detailed examinations of the arms in various parts of the Court House and adjacent buildings throw a doubt upon the statement in a previous page, as to the proprietorship or occupation at one time of the Ferrers family. These arms differ, it will be seen, as may be expected, from marriages and inter-marriages, but we are not sufficiently acquainted with the arms of other old families of the time to say with what or whose arms they were incorporated, and it would be overloading our pages with genealogical lore to go into details. A family, some of the members of which had two wives and eighteen children, would naturally soon spread itself about the country.

The Rev. C. Brooke, of Brackley, Northants, as these pages are going through the press, writes to say:—

“From the similiarity in the arms it would seem that there was a
connection between Robert Brooke of Madeley Court, and Brooke of
Blacklands, whose arms are given by Dr. Plot, in his ‘History of
Staffordshire,’ as ‘Chequy, arg. and sable;’ but it does not appear
to be so by the pedigree in the Visitation taken 1623, or by the
pedigree of Brooke of Blacklands, compiled by Mr. Eyton, for the Rev.
J. Brooke, from original deeds at Haughton, which he did as well as
the scanty records would allow.”

A contributor to “Salopian Shreds and Patches” (Feb. 9, 1876) says one of the bells of Church Stretton church has the following inscription:—

“Donatum pro avi Edwardo Brooke de Stretton Generoso. 1711.”

And adds—

“Assuming that this is a correct reading of the abbreviated words on
the bell, the following is a literal translation:—‘Given for luck by
Edward Brooke, of Stretton, gentleman. 1711.’”

The Rev. John Brooke, of Haughton, unwilling that one of the family should have been supposed to have associated the word “luck” with things so sacred, writes to say:—

“On referring to the copies of the Claverley registers, as I have, I
find that ‘Avis’ was the Christian name of one of his wives, 1636;
therefore, after all, Edward Brooke probably gave the bell in memory
of either his wife or a daughter of that name.”

One of the Brookes, residing or having property, or both, at Coalbrookdale, went to Ireland, taking the name of the place with him, and calling it “Colebrook.”

In a work published on distinguished Shropshire families is the following, which is interesting from its bearing upon an important historical fact:—

“Robert Brooke Miles married three wives; one, Anne, d. and heir of
Michael Warringe de Salop. He died 1558.

↓

John B. died 1598, aged 60. + Anne, d. of Francis Shirley, of
Staniton, co. Leicester.

↓

Sir Basil Brooke Miles, 1623, died 1646. + Etheldreda, d. and sole
heir of Edmund Boudendil.”

Sir Basil was one of the sporting friends whom Giffard of Chillington drew around him at his housewarming on the border of Brewood Forest, a house which subsequently gave shelter to the Earl of Derby and King Charles the First. It was built nominally as a hunting-seat, but really for purposes of concealment; and the site on the bolder of two counties, deep in the recesses of woods, traversed by no public roads, was exceedingly suitable. It is said that on the completion of the building the owner invited a few friends to dinner, to celebrate the occasion, and amongst them Sir Basil Brooke, of the Court House, Madeley, who had recently returned from Italy, and who on being requested by his host to supply a name for the place, suggested Boscobel, or Bos co Bello; and this was considered so appropriate, from the prospect it commanded of the beautiful woods around, that it is said to have been at once adopted.

It will be seen from what we have previously stated that the family of Brooke continued to reside at Madeley till 1706, when, according to the benefaction-table in the church, Basil Brooke by will bequeathed the sum of £40, and for a further sum of £30, paid him by Audley Bowdler and eight other parties, sold three several cottages or tenements, with gardens and yards, at Madeley Wood, for the use of the poor. {40}

The next tenant of the Court appears to have been the first Abraham Darby, for we find that he died there, after which time we find no tenants of more importance than the Purtons and the Triggers, who were farmers, and held the land around.

Thus early, even in Madeley, did the great owners of the soil—who merely tilled the surface, and scarcely that—give place to miners and ironmakers who knew how to win wealth from beneath.

With regard to this fine old mansion itself, having about it the symbols of ancient and distinguished Shropshire families, and associated at still earlier periods with the history of the wealthy monastery of St. Milburgh, it is fast going to decay. The last of the long and distinguished line of Wenlock priors lived and died here, as did the first great Shropshire ironmaster, the first Abraham Darby, afterwards, and one almost regrets that the wish of the late James Foster, who purchased the property, to repair and restore it, was not carried out. The temptation to get the mines underneath it, however, proved too strong: the whole has been undermined, and from attacks below and above, with all the usual elements of decay at work, must ere long disappear, rich as it is in associations of the past.

It is one of that class of buildings the country can ill afford to spare, for it speaks not to the antiquarian or the historian merely, but to all who take an interest in the manners, customs, and domestic arrangements of the past. It is difficult to say which are the original portions, but the vaults and cellaring, and some other parts appear to have belonged to a building which has undergone many changes. The windows, walls, and doorways of that portion of the building occupied by Mr. Round, and the substantial foundations that gentleman found beneath the surface in cutting a drain in the same direction, with a well 15 yards deep, indicate pretty clearly an extension of the buildings formerly on that side.

On going inside, and descending a spiral stone staircase to the basement story of the building, visitors will have opportunities of seeing how substantially the walls are built. They are a yard and a half in thickness, and have narrow openings, each growing narrower towards the outside, every two converging towards a point similar to what the reader has witnessed in many a fortress of byegone times, and designed no doubt for the same purpose, for defence. This staircase did not then as now terminate in what was the large hall, but in the adjoining apartment, now used as a brewhouse. The partition, too, which shuts off the entrance to another pair of stairs near the coat of arms on the north did not exist, nor the stairs either. The room is now 38½ feet long; then it would be 40, by 22 feet wide, and 14 feet high. Beneath these arms, on a daias, probably, the head of the house would sit dispensing hospitality. The chief staircase was near the other end of the hall, and composed of immense blocks of solid oak. The spiral stone staircase from the base of the building to the chapel at the top of the house was for the use, it is supposed, either of the dependents or the officiating priest. A further examination of the arms on the ceiling and a comparison with those in other parts of the building show them to be those of the Brooke family. An oak screen divides the chapel, which is wainscoted to the ceiling with oak. On the eastern side of this screen is a piscina, which has been cut out of the solid brickwork, and which at a subsequent period must have been concealed by the wainscoating. In the western division, behind the wainscoating, is a secret chamber, a yard square; probably for concealment in times of danger. It is communicated with by a panel in the wainscoat just large enough to admit a man, who, once inside, had the means of bolting and barring himself in behind the oak panel, which would look in no respect different to the others. This is called king Charles’s hole, but there is no evidence or well-founded tradition that he occupied it. There are a number of other curious nooks and small chambers which might have served purposes of concealment in troubled times, and probably did so, when the votaries of the two dominant religions, fired with a zeal inspired by their positions, alternately persecuted each other, as in the times of James, Mary, and Elizabeth. It is an error however, and one which Harrison Ainsworth among others appears to have fallen into, to suppose that the unfortunate king Charles either came to the Court House or was secreted in it. It is probable enough that, from the well known loyalty of the owner, the house would be searched by the Parliamentarians for the king, and the fact that they were likely to do so would lead to more discretion in selecting a place of concealment. The fine old wainscoating is falling from the rooms, and the whole place presents a scene of utter desolation.

From the upper portion of the building a pit, said to be without a bottom, and leading to a subterranean passage to Buildwas Abbey, may be seen. There is of course no ground for either tradition: a house which belonged to the priors of Wenlock would want no communication with a rival monastery, which was looked upon with jealousy, and the more abstemious habits of the inmates of which were in some measure a reflection upon their own. The pit or well has no bottom, inasmuch as it slants when it gets below the building in the direction of the pool in which it terminates.

Outside the building are some of the grotesque, nondescript stone figures which builders of the Gothic age indulged in. On this side, too, is a handsome stone porch, which, like some other portions of the same building is more modern than others. The gate-house, like the porch, is both more modern, and more Elizabethan than the other. It is a well-proportioned and beautiful building, exciting the admiration of all who see it. It possesses several heraldic embellishments, relating to the Brooke family.

It is a pity that the memorials of a family so ancient and distinguished, and so connected with the early history of Madeley, have not been better preserved. There must, one would think, have been mural monuments of a costly kind in the old church, seeing that the family lived at the Court for two centuries and a half at the least.

The stone of which the house was built was quarried near the spot, but the shelly limestone covering for the roof must have been brought from Acton Burnell, or somewhere near. It is from the pentamerous beds of the Caradoc sandstone. The house is supplied with spring-water by pipes from an ancient reservoir on the high ground near where the stone used was probably quarried.

KING CHARLES’S VISIT TO, AND CONCEALMENT AT, MADELEY.

The first indication we find at Madeley of the troubled times which ushered in the most remarkable episode in the history of the 17th century is an entry in the church register, under date of April 14, 1645, informing us that on the above date one William Caroloso was buried, the church at the time being garrisoned by a Parliamentary regiment, commanded by Captain Harrington. A page of history was being written which in all future times would be read with interest; agencies, the growth of centuries, had been developed; struggles for political and polemical equality had disturbed the stagnation of ages. The injustice of the courts, the persecutions, pillorings, and beheadings of reformers and standard-bearers of truth, and the weakness and insincerity of monarchs, had culminated in revolution, and six years later the weak vacillating monarch, Charles II., after the battle of Worcester, where 3,000 of his army had been left upon the field, came a fugitive to Madeley. The story of his flight, his disguise, and of his lodging in “Wolfe’s bam,” is an episode in history that illustrates the vicissitudes of life, affords a startling lesson to royalty, and brings into relief the devotion and faithfulness of those in humble spheres to others when in misfortune. Having ridden in hot haste from Worcester, and fallen in with the Earls Buckingham, Derby, Wilmot, and others, “I strove,” he tells us, “as soon as it was dark, to get them to stand by me against the enemy, I could not get rid of them now I had a mind to it, having, afterwards slipt away from them by a by-road when it was dark.”

The story of his retreat through Kidderminster, where Richard Baxter describes the balls flying all night, and the hurried northward flight under the trusty scout, Master Walker; then the second pause of terror on Kinver Heath; the stolen and breathless flight through Stourbridge; the short and poor refreshment at Kingswinford; and the long gallop to the White Ladies;—the whole flight being certainly forty miles—has been so often told as to be familiar to the reader.

These and other incidents of the flight have been worked up in a drama, in five acts, by Mr. George Griffiths, of Bewdley. Scene 2 is laid at the White Ladies (nine miles from Wolverhampton and one from Brewood, now occupied by Mr. Wilson).

“_Enter_ Col. Roscarrock, Richard Penderell, of Hobbal Grange, Edward
Martin, a servant, and Bartholemew Martin, a boy in the house.

“_Col. Roscarrock_ (to the boy Martin):
Come hither, boy, canst thou do an errand,
And speak to no one on the road to Boscobel?

“_Boy_.—That I can, Sir, without reward or fee;
Trust me, I will not say one word
To any he or she, so tell me what’s my duty.

“_Col. Roscarrock_.—Go off to Boscobel the nearest road,
And one that fewest folks do travel by.
Tell William Penderell to hasten hither,
Without a minute’s stopping,
And should he ask thee why and wherefore,
Tell him Good Master Giffard wants him here
Without delay, and see thou com’st back with him;
And shouldst thou meet or pass folks on the road,
Say nought unto them as to where thou’rt going
Or what thy errand is. Haste, and some coin
Shall warm thy pocket if thou mind’st my words.

“_Boy_.—Aye, aye, sir, humble boys have sharpish wits.
Because their simple food keeps them in health;
I’se warrant the Squire’s son, though so well fed,
Cannot leap gates like I, or ride a horse
Barebacked across the hedges of our farm.
Aye, aye, sir, I can keep my counsel, too;
I know a hay-fork from a noble’s sword,
And I do feel that with my harvest fork
I could defend a king as stoutly
As those who carry golden-handled swords.
I go, and no man, no, nor woman either,
Shall coax one word from off my faithful tongue.

[_Exit_.

“_Col. Roscarrock_.—See now, how this young varlet guesses all,
His eye alone told all I thought unknown;
Well, trusty friends dwell oft in rustic hearts
With more sincerity than in the breasts
Of those who fill the highest offices.”

Boscobel was selected upon the suggestion of the Earl of Derby, who, defeated and wounded on the 25th of August, 1651, at the battle of Wigan, by the Parliamentary forces under Colonel Lilburn, found his way hither whilst seeking to join Charles at Worcester, and who, after four or five days rest here, went on, and reached Worcester on the eve of the famous battle.

Boscobel, so named, as we have seen, by Sir Basil Brooke, of the Court House, Madeley, on account of its beautiful and well-wooded situation, and built ostensibly as a hunting-lodge, but in reality as a hiding-place for priests, amid the sombre forest of Brewood, was often used for the purpose for which it was designed, as well as a shelter for distressed Cavaliers.

The story of the disfigurement of Charles, and his crouching wet and weary in the woods, has been often told in prose and verse. We quote Griffiths again:—

“_W. Penderell_ (to the King).—Sire, disguise is your first need,
henceforth your title must not pass
Our lips; here in this chimney rub your hands
And then transfer the blackness to your face.
We must in, and clothe you in a rustic suit
Of green, with leathern doublet and a noggain shirt
For we have heard that troops have come to Codsall
But three miles off, under the traitor Ashenhurst.
Haste! Haste! and when your rough disguise is donned
We must take shelter in the thick Spring Coppice,
The darkest covert Boscobel doth claim.

“SCENE 4. Richard Penderell’s house at Hobbal Grange. Enter the
King, old Mrs. Penderell, and her son Richard.

“_The King_.—We must not stop here long, the air is full of spies,
The night now favours us; no moon nor stars
Shine out to show us to our enemies.
Let’s hence to Wales, fidelity lives there
More than on English soil. Oft have I read
Of their unvarying faith to those they served,
What straits and stratagems they felt and wrought,
To save misfortune’s sons from grievous fates.

“_R. Penderell_.—We must disguise you more;
Rub well your hands in the wet dirt,
Here, take this bill, a woodman you must be,
And for a name let William Jones suffice;
Shew no dread, but speak few words,
For fear they should betray your better teaching.
Come, let’s away, I have a friend at Madeley,
Wolfe by name, faithful and trusty.”

William Penderell acting as barber, the king was eased of his royal locks, his hands and face were toned down to that of a country labourer, and he sallied forth, wood-bill in hand, in the direction of Madeley, with “a country-fellow,” whose borrowed suit he travelled in. To understand his majesty’s toilet the reader must conceive the royal person in a pair of ordinary grey cloth breeches—“more holy than the wearer”—rather roomy in the slack; a leathern doublet, greasy about the collar; hose much darned; shoes that let in dirt and wet to the royal feet—ventilators in their way; and above all a sugar-loaf hat, rain proof by reason of grease, turned up at the sides, the corners acting as water-spouts. Thus disguised, the rain pouring in torrents, on a dark night, along a rough by-road, “guided by the rustling sound of Richard’s calf-skin breeches,” through mud and mire, over ruts, plunging now and then into swollen streams, the king and his guide travelled in the direction of Madeley. Slamming the gate at Evelyth bridge, in the middle of the night, brought out the miller, who ordered them to stand, and raised an outcry of “Rogues, rogues.” Foot-sore and weary, resolving sometimes to go no farther, then plucking up their spirits and trudging on, the house of Mr. Wolfe, who had “hiding holes for priests,” was reached, where the king slept in a barn.

Hearing from Mr. Wolfe’s son, who had escaped from Shrewsbury, that every bridge and boat were in the possession of the Roundheads, so that escape in that direction was hopeless, it was decided to advise his majesty to return. Mr. Wolfe, according to Pepys, persuaded the king to put on “a pair of old green yarn stockings, all worn and darned at the knees, with their feet cut off, to hide his white ones, for fear of being observed;” and Mrs. Wolfe having again had recourse to walnut-juice for the purpose of deepening the tone upon the royal face, he again set out in the direction of Boscobel. The king, in the diary above quoted, is made to say:—

“So we set out as soon as it was dark. But, as we came by the mill
again, we had no mind to be questioned a second time there; and
therefore asking Richard Penderell whether he could swim or no, and
how deep the river was, he told me it was a scurvy river, not easy to
be past in all places, and that he could not swim. So I told him,
that the river being a little one, I would undertake to help him
over. Upon which we went over some closes to the river side, and I,
entering the river first, to see whether I could myself go over, who
knew how to swim, found it was but a little above my middle; and
thereupon taking Richard Penderell by the hand, I helped him over.”

They reached Boscobel at five o’clock on the morning of Saturday, September 6th. Penderell, leaving the king in the wood, went to the house to reconnoitre. All was secure, and he found Colonel Carless, who was also hiding at Boscobel. He had been an active soldier throughout the war. His presence cheered the tired and wandering monarch, who now for the first time was brought into the house, and sitting by the fire was refreshed with bread and cheese and a warm posset of beer, prepared by W. Penderell’s wife, Joan, who also brought him warm water to bathe his feet, and dried his shoes by placing in them hot embers. After a short slumber the king was aroused by his anxious attendants, he not being safe in the house in the daylight. With Colonel Carless he then climbed into an oak tree that stood a few yards from the house, at some distance from the other trees. It had been lopped or pollarded, some years before, and in consequence had grown very bushy, and afforded a good hiding-place. They took provisions for the day with them. Screened from view, the king, resting his head on the knees of Carless, slept soundly for some time. The king, in his narrative, as recorded by Pepys, says:—“While we were in the tree we saw soldiers going up and down in the thickets of the wood, searching for persons escaped, we seeing them now and then peeping out of the wood.”

Saturday evening brought darkness, of which the fugitives availed themselves by going into the house, and Penderell’s wife, Dame Joan, provided a dainty dish of roast chickens for the king’s supper. That being over, the king retired to a hiding-hole at the top of the stairs, where a pallet was laid ready, and there he passed the night. On Sunday morning the king arose refreshed, and passed the day partly at his devotions, partly in watching, and partly reading in the garden. We must not forget to mention that he cooked his meat, frying some collops of mutton. Meanwhile, John Penderell had gone in search of Lord Wilmot, whom he found at Moseley Hall with Mr. Whitgreave, and in the evening he returned, bringing tidings that the king could be received at Moseley. Whereupon Charles, taking leave of Carless, set out on Humphrey Penderell’s (the miller’s) horse, attended by the five Penderells and their brother-in-law, Yates, well armed with bills and pike-staves, as well as pistols. The king complained of the rough motion of the horse. “Can you blame the horse, my liege,” said the honest miller, “to go heavily, when he has the weight of three kingdoms on his back?” At Moseley Hall the king remained from Sunday night till Tuesday evening, when Colonel Lane came from Bentley, bringing a horse for him. Being dressed in a suit of grey hose, and with the name of Jackson, he acted as serving-man to Miss Jane Lane, rode before her, and eventually embarked for France, which country after many narrow escapes, he reached safely on the 16th of October.

To Mr. Wolfe, of Madeley, the king presented a very handsome silver tankard with the inscription, “Given by Charles the Second, at the Restoration, to F. Wolfe, of Madeley, in whose barn he was secreted after the defeat at Worcester, 1651.” The tankard is now in the possession of W. Rathbone, Esq., of Liverpool, but a print of it hangs in the old house. The tankard has upon the cover a coat of arms: the crest is a demi-wolf supporting a crown. In the hall there is an old panel, which was cut out of the wainscoating of the dining-room, with the initials, thus:—

F. W. M.
1621.

In the church register we find the burial of Barbara Wolfe, January 13th, 1660; of Ann Wolfe, September 19th, 1672; of Francis Wolfe, December 7th, 1665; and of Sarah Wolfe, late wife of Francis Wolfe, January 10th, 1698.

The house is a very old one, and Mr. Joseph Yate, of the Hall, close by, says he remembers his father telling him that in former times it was “a house of entertainment.” The barn which is not more than twenty feet from the house, afterwards became the Market House, the butchers’ shambles being still discernible. The upper portion was rebuilt, or cased, a few years ago, but the old timber skeleton remains.

It is pleasant to find that Charles, at the restoration, further remembered his preservers, and settled pensions on their survivors; but not till 1675 was permanent provision made. Certain rents from estates in Stafford, Salop, Hereford, &c., were intrusted to Sir Walter Wollesley, John Giffard, of Black Ladies, and Richard Congreve, of Congreve, to pay the yearly proceeds to the Penderell family, the sum amounting to about £450 per annum, thus:—

£100 a-year to Richard Penderell or his heirs,

£100 a-year to William or his heirs.

100 marks, or £66 13s. 4d. a-year to Humphrey or his heirs.

100 marks to John or his heirs.

100 marks to George or his heirs.

£50 a-year to Elizabeth Yates or her heirs.

The surviving trustee is John Giffard, of Black Ladies, and his lineal descendants, the present squire of Chillington, who is now sole trustee. {54}

THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON.

Another notable event noticed by an old book in the vestry of Madeley Church already quoted, is the Great Fire of London, September, 1666, sixteen years subsequent to the stirring drama previously recorded. It comes before us in a house-to-house visitation, by the vicar and churchwardens, for the purpose of raising subscriptions “in aid of a fund to relieve the sufferings by the Great Fire.”

In this account nine sugar-refiners are said to have lost £20,000; but, notwithstanding the house-to-house visitation, only £1 2s. 10d. was raised, which speaks little for the sympathy or wealth of the inhabitants at that time.

ASSESSMENTS IN MADELEY, AND ABOLITION OF THE CHIMNEY TAX OR SMOKE-PENNY.

The Smoke-Penny, Chimney Tax, or Hearth-Money, previously alluded to, so oppressive to the poor, and so obnoxious generally, by exposing every man’s house to be entered and searched at pleasure, had become so unpopular that one of the earliest proceedings of the first Parliament of William and Mary was to substitute a grant in “aid,” of £68,820 per month, for six months, payable in proportions; the entire assessment for Shropshire being £1203, and those for the several parishes in the allotment of Madeley, at 12d. in the £, as under:—

£ s. d. Madeley 17 02 04 Little Wenlock 10 04 06 Huntington 03 11 10 Beckbury 05 09 02 Badger 03 13 06½ £40 01 7½

The principle ever since continued of specific annual grants to the king by votes of Parliament, partially acted upon by Charles II., but wholly disregarded by the Parliament of the succeeding reign, was now fully established.

THE LAW OF SETTLEMENT.

From an order given to the constables of the parish of Madeley in 1690, we get an insight of the laws of Settlement which imposed such restrictions upon our ancestors, compelling a labourer to remain in the place where he was born to the end of his days, and preventing him bettering his condition. The order was that whereas Thomas Richardson had endeavoured to make a settlement in Madeley contrary to the law, &c., that they, the constables, bring his body to the serjeant’s house, Much Wenlock, to answer all matters brought against him by the overseers of the poor of the parish of Madeley. The constables were also to bring John York, smith, before some justice of the peace to give sureties for his own and his wife’s good behaviour.

VAGRANTS AND STURDY BEGGARS.

Paupers having been created by restraints preventing them seeking employ where work was to be had, of course became troublesome. Hence the serjeant-at-mace orders the constables at Madeley upon oath to report what felonies have been committed, and what vagrants and sturdy beggars have passed through.

The same constables were to ascertain how many persons of the age of sixteen absented themselves from church, and for how many Sabbaths. Also who destroyed hawks, hares, pheasants, &c.; and who bought by greater and sold by lesser weights.

THE OATHS OF SUPREMACY.

In the fifth year of William and Mary (1691) constables were to give notice to all above sixteen and under sixty, whom they believed to be disaffected, to appear before the serjeant-at-mace to take the oaths, &c.: but a goodly number of the Madeley and Little Wenlock allotment appear to have been guilty of contempt, and were ordered to pay the sum of 40s. by them forfeited. Having been guilty of further contempt, the constables are ordered to seize and bring the bodies of the delinquents. (See Appendix.)

THE POLL TAX.

In the same year, 1692, constables are instructed to look-up all loose seamen and watermen, and bring them before one of the justices of the peace; and to collect 4s. in the £, towards carrying on a vigorous war with France. An order (September, 1693), signed “George Weld, Bart.,” addressed to Mr. Brooke, of Madeley, calls upon the constables to summons the Militia to appear at Shrewsbury &c., &c. Under the act passed for collecting 4s. in the £, for carrying on the war, constables were instructed to charge papists and all who had not taken the oaths of supremacy double.

ASSESSMENT FOR CARRYING ON A VIGOROUS WAR.

The assessment for Madeley for three months, on the allotment of Little Wenlock by the commissioners, towards the raising of £1,651,702, as granted by Parliament to the king for carrying on a vigorous war against France, was £8 2s.

PRESS LAWS.

In the same year constables were commanded to make diligent search for all straggling seamen and watermen who were of able bodies, fit for service at sea, and, to impress them, giving them one shilling. The assessment in Madeley of 4s. in the £, for 1694, produced, on land, works, &c., £149 1s. 4d., “one pound having been abated on the lime-works.”

TAX UPON MARRIAGES, BIRTHS, BURIALS, &c.

In 1695 the Madeley constables were to collect duties upon “marriages, births, and burials, and upon bachelors and widows,” for carrying on the war with France, according to the rank of the individuals.

In 1696, and 1697, we find constables have various duties assigned them; and in 1698, they are required to carry out an act for preventing frauds and abuses in the charging and collecting, and paying of duties upon marriages, births, and burials, bachelors and widows. Also for collecting a quarterly poll for the year.

In 1702 instructions are given to constables to present all papists, Jesuits, and all others that have received orders from the see of Rome. Also all popish recusants and others that do not come to their several parish churches within the divisions.

In 1703 they were to collect subsides for her majesty (Queen Anne), for carrying on the war with France and Spain, and to charge those who had not taken the oath of allegiance double.

In 1708 constables were to ascertain what masters or servants gave or took greater wages than were allowed by law.

Our account of instructions to constables continues to 1714, but nothing to merit comment occurs. Many names of old Madeley families occur, which we shall notice hereafter.

RENT AND VALUE OF LANDS IN THE LORDSHIP OF MADELEY, in 1702.

Demesne lands in Madeley, (537a. 3r. 33p.) or those attached to the Court House, with the 770 trees upon it, valued at twenty years purchase, was said to be £6,459 10s. 4d.; yearly rent, £289 13s. 6d. The whole acreage of Madeley, including the above, was 2073 acres, the yearly value of which was £1,021; trees, 3369; loads of wood, 160; purchase, £17,366 9s. 4d. For names of proprietors, see Appendix.

We find from a survey of the lordship of Madeley, that the demesne lands of the Court in 1786, belonged to Richard Dyett, Esq., one of an old Shropshire family, from whom it was purchased by William Orme Foster, Esq., about the year 1830.

THE COAL AND IRON INDUSTRIES OF MADELEY.

During the period events previously recorded were being enacted, the coal and iron industries now employing so many hands, and which have brought so much wealth to individual proprietors, were being developed. Francis Wolfe, who gave shelter to King Charles, is supposed to have been a shareholder in some ironworks at Leighton, and probably at Coalbrookdale, from the fact that an iron plate, bearing date 1609, has the initials “T.R.W.,” and another with the date 1658 (the latter removed here from Leighton), also bears a “W” among other initials. We read also of a clerk of a Shropshire ironworks being the first to convey the news of the disastrous defeat of the royal army at Worcester. We find, too, that as early as 1332 Walter de Caldbroke obtained from the Wenlock monks license to dig for coals at the outcrop at the Brockholes. We also learn from Fuller, who lived and wrote in the seventeenth century, that what he calls “fresh-water coal” was dug out at such a distance from the Severn as to be easily ported by boat into other shires.

Iron, too, was made as we have seen from the Patent Roll, 36 Henry VIII., part v., where the grant of the manor of Madeley to Robert Brooke, Esq. is expressly said to include “the rights attached to the whole of the place and buildings that go under the one name of the Smithy Place, and Newhouse called Caldbrooke Smithy, with its patronages in the aforesaid Madeley.”

THE FIRST IRONWORKS.—THE REYNOLDSES.

The first ironworks were of course of a very humble description; the outcrop of the mines did not then determine the situation so much as the presence of a powerful stream which supplied a force to work the leathern bellows which blew the fires. The first Abraham Darby came to the Dale in 1709, and in 1713 the make was but from five to ten tons per week. In 1712 he used coal in smelting iron. He died at the Court House, Madeley, in 1717, and was succeeded by his son, the second Abraham Darby, who in 1760 is said to have laid the first rails of iron for carriages with axles having fixed wheels. The third Abraham Darby effected another great achievement, the casting and erecting the first iron bridge, for which he obtained the medal of the Society of Arts. The credit of having laid the first iron rails is claimed for Richard Reynolds, who succeeded the second Abraham Darby in the management of these works in 1763, and who, according to Sir Robert Stephenson, who examined the books of the works, cast six tons of iron rails for the use of the works in 1767. It was at these works, too, that the brothers Cranege anticipated Henry Cort by seventeen years by the discovery of the process of puddling in a reverberatory furnace, by the use of pit-coal, in 1766, under the management of Mr. Reynolds.

Mr. Reynolds also took a warm interest in the success and introduction of the steam engine, which he adopted in 1778. “For no one,” observes his daughter, “did he entertain sentiments of more affectionate esteem than for James Watt,” with whom, as well as with Wedgwood and Wilkinson, he was associated in several public movements of the time. Being a Friend he was opposed to war and refused Government orders for cannon; and he was stung to the quick when Pitt’s ministry proposed to lay a war tax upon coal. The country had been carrying on wars—wars everywhere, and with everybody, and to meet the lavish expenditure, the popular minister of the day, on whom Walpole tells us, “it rained gold boxes” for weeks running, “the pilot that weathered the storm,” sought to replenish the exchequer by a tax of 2s. per ton, to be paid on all coal without exception raised to the pit’s mouth. The iron-masters of Shropshire, Staffordshire and Yorkshire, as well as those of other English and Scottish counties were alarmed; it was felt to be an important crisis in the history of the trade. Deputations and petitions were sent up, but the wily premier had so carefully yet quietly surrounded himself with facts, that he knew of every pound of iron made and of every ton of coal that was raised. Pitt received the gentlemen connected with the trade with the greatest freedom and affability; bowed them in and out; appointed hours and places to meet their convenience, and left them dumbfounded at his knowledge of details of their own business. Mr. Reynolds entered the field in opposition to the tax, gave evidence before the Privy Council, and by petitions to the House and letters to members of the Cabinet, materially aided in defeating the attempt. The gravity of the occasion is, perhaps, even more evident to us, on whom the advantages of a cheap and plentiful supply of iron have fallen. We can better measure the consequences that must have followed. A tax upon coal at that period would have paralysed the trade, checked its development in this country, and thrown into the lap of others benefits we ourselves have derived; would have disendowed the island of advantages in which it is peculiarly rich,—upon which it is mainly dependent for its wealth, its progress, and its civilization. A tax upon coal would have been a tax upon iron, upon the manufacture of iron, upon its consumption, and its use in the arts and manufactures of the kingdom,—a tax upon spinning, weaving, and printing,—a tax upon the genius of Watt and Arkwright, whose improvements it would have thrown back and thwarted,—upon the extension of commerce at home and abroad. The immense advantages possessed by the manufacturers of the New World would then have given them the lead in a race in which, even now, it is as much as we can do to keep up. Our energies, just at a time when the iron nerves of England were put to their greatest strain, would have been paralysed, and we should have been deprived of our railways, our locomotives, our steam-fleets, and much of our commerce, and prosperity. Mr. Reynolds saw the evil in prospective, and in a letter to Earl Gower, President of the Council, dated the 7th month, 1784, takes a very just review of the past history of the trade and the improvements then about to be adopted. He says:—

“The advancement of the iron trade within these few years have been
prodigious; it was thought, and justly, that the making of pig iron
with pit coal was a great acquisition to the nation by saving the
woods and supplying a material to manufactories, the make of which,
by the consumption of all the wood the country produced, was unequal
to the demand; and the nail trade, perhaps the most considerable of
any one article of manufactured iron, would have been lost to this
country, had it not been found practicable to make nails of iron made
with pit coal; and it is for that purpose we have made, or rather are
making, the alterations at Donnington-Wood, Ketley, &c., which we
expect to complete in the present year, but not at a less expense
than twenty thousand pounds, which will be lost to us and gained by
nobody if this tax is laid on our coals. The only chance we have of
making iron as cheap as it can be imported from Russia, is the low
price of our fuel, and unless we can do that there will not be
consumption equal to half the quantity that can be made, and when we
consider how many people are employed on a ton of iron, and the
several trades dependent thereupon, we shall be convinced the Revenue
is much more benefited even by the consumption of excisable articles,
&c., than by the duty on a ton of foreign iron; nor will it, I
believe, escape observation that the iron trade, so fatally affected
by this absurd tax, is only of the second, if indeed, on some
account, it is not of the first importance to the nation. The
preference I know is given, and I believe justly, as to the number of
hands employed, to the woollen manufactory; but when it is remembered
that all that is produced by making of iron with pit coal is
absolutely so much gained to the nation, and which, without its being
so applied, would be perfectly useless, it will evince its superior
importance, for the land grazed by sheep might be converted with
whatever loss to other purposes of agriculture or pasturage; but coal
and iron stone have no value in their natural state, produce nothing
till they are consumed or manufactured, and a tax upon coal, which,
as I said, is the only article that in any degree compensates for our
high price of labour, &c., or can be substituted in the stead of
water for our wheels, and bellows, would entirely ruin this very
populous country, and throw its labouring poor upon the parishes,
till the emigration of those of them who are able to work shall
strengthen our opponents, and leave the desolated wastes, at present
occupied by their cottages, to the lords of the soil.”

In the year following (1785) the interests of the iron trade were again considered to be endangered from commercial arrangements proposed by the Irish House of Commons for the consideration of Parliament. Mr. Reynolds, Messrs. Boulton, Watt, Wedgwood, Wilkinson, and others, united in forming an association for the protection of the trade, under the title of “The United Chamber of Manufacturers of Great Britain.” The Shropshire iron and coal masters petitioned the House, and Mr. Reynolds again wielded the pen in defence of the trade. We extract sufficient to show the extent of the works. He says, addressing Earl Gower, under date 28th of the third month, 1785,—

“We solicit thy effectual interposition against a measure so
injurious to us and to the many hundreds of poor people employed by
us in working and carrying on mines, &c., for the supply of a large
sale of coals by land and water, and of coals and mine for sixteen
fire-engines, eight blast furnaces, and nine forges, besides the air
furnaces, mills, &c., at the foundry at Coalbrookdale, and which,
with the levels, roads, and more than twenty miles of railways, &c.,
still employs a capital of upwards of £100,000, though the declension
of our trade has, as stated in a former letter, obliged us to stop
two blast furnaces, which are not included in the number before
mentioned. Nor have we ever considered ourselves as the first of
many others employed in iron or coal works in this kingdom.”

We have considered the subject of our present sketch chiefly under one aspect only—as a man of action—and that mainly in connection with the iron trade, and in providing against those reverses to which not only that but other branches of industry were peculiarly liable, more particularly during the latter end of the last and the commencement of the present centuries. Mr. Reynolds, however, has claims no less distinguished under a classification beneath which is frequently found another division of human benefactors. He was not only a man of action—great in dealing with things tangible,—but he was a man of thought and of genius—as quick to devise and to plan as to execute. What is still more rare, he possessed those qualities in proportions so finely balanced, that their happy combination, during a long and active life, gave birth to schemes of noble enterprise, valuable to the district, and important to the nation. That which merited, from vulgar shortsightedness, the epithet of eccentricity, a state of deep and penetrating thought, was oftentimes the conceiving energy of a vigorous mind mastering in the mental laboratory of the brain, plans and schemes of which the noblest movements of the day are the just and legitimate offspring. The schemes he inaugurated were victories won, the improvements he effected were triumphs gained to the nation or for humanity.

That quality of mind which too often runs waste or evaporates in wild impracticable ideality, with him found an object of utility on which to alight, and under the magic of a more than ordinary genius difficulties disappeared, formidable obstacles melted into air, and the useful and the true were fused into one. He never felt the fluttering of a noble thought but he held it by the skirts, and made it do duty in this work-day world of ours, if it had relation to the tangible realities of time. “Though I do not adopt,” he writes to a friend, “all the notions of Swedenbourg, I have believed that the spiritual world is nearer to us than many suppose, and that our communication with it would be more frequent than many of us experience, did we attain to that degree of purity of heart and abstraction from worldly thoughts and tempers which qualify for such communion or intercourse.” He was not a man whose soul ran dry in solitude, or that grew melancholy the moment the click of money-making machinery no longer sounded in his ears. He was one of the old iron-kings, ’tis true, but with a soul in harmony with the silvery music of the universe. Often with no companion but his pipe, he retired to some retreat, consecrated perhaps by many a happy thought, and watched the declining sun, bathing in liquid glory the Ercall woods, the majestic Wrekin, the Briedden hills, and the still more distant Cader Idris. A deep vein of genuine religious feeling often appeared upon the surface, and seemed to penetrate reflections of the kind. Speaking of a new arbour he had made, be says—

“From thence I have seen three or four as fine sunsets as I at any
time have seen, and if the gradual going down, and last, last twinkle
of the once radiant orb, the instant when it was, and was not, to be
seen—made me think of that awful moment when the last sigh consigns
the departing soul to different if not distant scenes, the glorious
effulgence gilding the western horizon with inimitable magnificence,
naturally suggested the idea of celestial splendour, and inspired the
wish that (through the assistance of His grace) a faithful obedience
to the requirings of our great Maker and Master, may in that solemn
season justify the hope of my being admitted into that city which
hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine on it, for the
glory of God lightens it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.”

The Wrekin was a favourite object; to its summit he made his annual pilgrimage, together with his family, his Dale relations, his clerks, and most of the members of the little Society of Friends. The following bit of landscape painting betrays a master hand, and is so faithful in itself, depicting no less the features of the country than the genius of his mind, that we incorporate it with our present sketch:—

“We went upon the Wrekin,” he writes, “sooner than usual this year,
that my children might partake of the pleasure. The weather was
pleasant, though rather windy. From the top of that hill the
prospect is so rich, so extensive, so various, that, considered as a
landscape only, it beggars all description; and yet I cannot forbear,
as thou desirest it, mentioning the tufted trees in the adjoining
woods, upon which, occasioned perhaps by the uncommonness of the
scene, I always _look down_ with a particular pleasure, as well as
survey those more distant, which are interspersed among the corn and
meadows, contrasted with the new-ploughed fallow-grounds and pastures
with cattle; the towns and villages, gentlemen’s seats, farm-houses,
enrich and diversify the prospect, whilst the various companies of
harvest men in the different farms within view enliven the scene.
Nor are the rivers that glitter among the laughing meadows, or the
stupendous mountains which, though distant, appear awfully dreary
without their effect considered part of the landscape only. But not
to confine the entertainment to visual enjoyment, what an
intellectual feast does the prospect from that hill afford when
beheld, ‘or with the curious or pious eye.’ Is not infinite power
exerted, and infinite goodness displayed, in the various as well as
plentiful provision for our several wants. Should not the
consideration expand over hearts with desires to contribute to the
relief of those whose indigence, excluding them from an equal
participation of the general feast, is for a trial of their faith and
patience and of our gratitude and obedience! Whilst with an
appropriation of sentiment which receives propriety from the
consciousness of our unworthiness, we substitute a particular for the
general exclamation of humble admiration, in the word of the
psalmist—‘Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him? or the son
of man that thou (thus) visitest him?’ The romantic scenes of
Benthall Edge,—its rocks and precipices, its sides and top covered
with wood; the navigable Severn, in which its feet are immersed; the
populousness of the opposite shore; the motion, noise, and life on
the river; the adjoining wharves and manufactories, are capable of
affording a high entertainment, and I should willingly devote one day
in the year to a repetition of the enjoyments of the pleasures I have
heretofore received from them: though equally near, and equally
desirable, a jaunt to Benthall Edge is not equally facile with one to
the Wrekin. It seems more out of my province.”

Our readers, ere this, must have discovered a power of description, a grace and polish, blended with a masculine force of thought, in the correspondence of Mr. Reynolds, of a more than common order; and would still more, could we feel at liberty to quote more copiously from numerous letters to his friends. If we follow him more closely into private life, and lift the veil that too often hides a dualism of character from the unsuspicious public eye, we find the sterling elements of the gentleman and the Christian.

Take the experience of the past as recorded, or the traditions of the present, as found among a generation second in remove from Richard Reynolds’s time, and they bring out into relief still more striking traits of character, that do honour to our common nature. The guiding principle of his life, in all cases of bargain and of sale, Mrs. Rathbone tells us, were in accordance with the old adage—“Live and let live;” and as an instance of the consistency with which he acted up to his motto she adds that, at the breaking out of the American war, when bar-iron rose to an extravagant price, and the makers of pig-iron could obtain their own terms, instead of taking an unreasonable advantage of the opportunity, he proposed to his customers that it should be left to one of themselves to name a fair price for pig-iron in the _then state_ of the trade, and to determine the scale of proportionate reduction which should take place when the price of bar-iron should fall, as he foresaw that it would follow the _then_ great and unsatisfied demand. The proposal was accepted, and by the scale which was then fixed his conduct was governed.