THEIR NAMES.
We accuse our short-sighted ancestors, and with reason, for leaving us almost without a church-yard and a market-place; for forming some of our streets nearly without width, and without light. One would think they intended a street without a passage, when they erected Moor-street; and that their successors should light their candles at noon.
Something, however, may be pleaded in excuse, by observing the concourse of people was small, therefore a little room would suffice; and the buildings were low, so that light would be less obstructed: besides, we cannot guess at the future but by the present. As the increase of the town was slow, the modern augmentation could not then be discovered through the dark medium of time; but the prospect into futurity is at this day rather brighter, for we plainly see, and perhaps with more reason, succeeding generations will blame us for neglect. We occupy the power to reform, without the will; why else do we suffer enormities to grow, which will have taken deep root in another age? If utility and beauty can be joined together in the street, why are they ever put asunder? It is easy for Birmingham to be as rapid in her improvement, as in her growth.
The town consists of about 125 streets, some of which acquired their names from a variety of causes, but some from no cause, and others, have not yet acquired a name.
Those of Bull street, Cannon street, London Prentice street, and Bell street, from the signs of their respective names.
Some receive theirs from the proprietors of the land, as Smallbrook street, Freeman street, Colmore street, Slaney street, Weaman street, Bradford street, and Colmore row.
Digbeth, or Ducks Bath, from the Pools for accommodating that animal, was originally Well street, from the many springs in its neighbourhood.
Others derive a name from caprice, as Jamaica row, John, Thomas, and Philip streets.
Some, from a desire of imitating the metropolis, as, Fleet-street, Snow-hill, Ludgate-hill, Cheapside, and Friday-street.
Some again, from local causes, as High-street, from its elevation, St. Martin's-lane, Church-street, Cherry-street, originally an orchard, Chapel-street, Bartholomew-row, Mass-house-lane, Old and New Meeting-streets, Steelhouse-lane, Temple-row and Temple-street, also Pinfold-street, from a pinfold at No. 85, removed in 1752.
Moor-street, anciently Mole-street, from the eminence on one side, or the declivity on the other.
Park-street seems to have acquired its name by being appropriated to the private use of the lord of the manor, and, except at the narrow end next Digbeth, contained only the corner house to the south, entering Shut-lane, No. 82, lately taken down, which was called The Lodge.
Spiceal-street, anciently Mercer-street, from the number of mercers shops; and as the professors of that trade dealt in grocery, it was promiscuously called Spicer-street. The present name is only a corruption of the last.
The spot, now the Old Hinkleys, was a close, till about 1720, in which horses were shown at the fair, then held in Edgbaston-street. It was since a brick-yard, and contained only one hut, in which the brick-maker slept.
The tincture of the smoky shops, with all their black furniture, for weilding gun-barrels, which afterwards appeared on the back of Small-brooke-street, might occasion the original name Inkleys; ink is well known; leys, is of British derivation, and means grazing ground; so that the etymology perhaps is Black pasture.
The Butts; a mark to shoot at, when the bow was the fashionable instrument of war, which the artist of Birmingham knew well how to make, and to use.
Gosta Green (Goose-stead-Green) a name of great antiquity, now in decline; once a track of commons, circumscribed by the Stafford road, now Stafford-street, the roads to Lichfield and Coleshill, now Aston and Coleshill-streets, and extending to Duke-street, the boundary of the manor.
Perhaps, many ages after, it was converted into a farm, and was, within memory, possessed by a person of the name of Tanter, whence, Tanter-street.
Sometimes a street fluctuates between two names, as that of Catharine and Wittal, which at length terminated in favour of the former.
Thus the names of great George and great Charles stood candidates for one of the finest streets in Birmingham, which after a contest of two or three years, was carried in favour of the latter.
Others receive a name from the places to which they direct, as Worcester-street, Edgbaston-street, Dudley-street, Lichfield-street, Aston-street, Stafford-street, Coleshill-street, and Alcester-street.
A John Cooper, the same person who stands in the list of donors in St. Martin's church, and who, I apprehend, lived about two hundred and fifty years ago, at the Talbot, now No. 20, in the High-street, left about four acres of land, between Steelhouse-lane, St. Paul's chapel, and Walmer-lane, to make love-days for the people of Birmingham; hence, Love-day-croft.
Various sounds from the trowel upon the premises, in 1758, produced the name of Love-day-street (corrupted into Lovely-street.)
This croft is part of an estate under the care of Lench's Trust; and, at the time of the bequest, was probably worth no more than ten shillings per annum.
At the top of Walmer-lane, which is the north east corner of this croft, stood about half a dozen old alms-houses, perhaps erected in the beginning of the seventeenth century, then at a considerable distance from the town. These were taken down in 1764, and the present alms-houses, which are thirty-six, erected near the spot, at the expence of the trust, to accommodate the same number of poor widows, who have each a small annual stipend, for the supply of coals.
This John Cooper, for some services rendered to the lord of the manor, obtained three privileges, That of regulating the goodness and price of beer, consequently he stands in the front of the whole liquid race of high tasters; that he should, whenever he pleased, beat a bull in the Bull-ring, whence arises the name; and, that he should be allowed interment in the south porch of St. Martin's church. His memory ought to be transmitted with honor, to posterity, for promoting the harmony of his neighbourhood, but he ought to have been buried in a dunghill, for punishing an innocent animal.--His wife seems to have survived him, who also became a benefactress, is recorded in the same list, and their monument, in antique sculpture, is yet visible in the porch.
TRADE.
Perhaps there is not by nature so much difference in the capacities of men, as by education. The efforts of nature will produce a ten-fold crop in the field, but those of art, fifty.
Perhaps too, the seeds of every virtue, vice, inclination, and habit, are sown in the breast of every human being, though not in an equal degree. Some of these lie dormant for ever, no hand inviting their cultivation. Some are called into existence by their own internal strength, and others by the external powers that surround them. Some of these seeds flourish more, some less, according to the aptness of the soil, and the modes of assistance. We are not to suppose infancy the only time in which these scions spring, no part of life is exempt. I knew a man who lived to the age of forty, totally regardless of music. A fidler happening to have apartments near his abode, attracted his ear, by frequent exhibitions, which produced a growing inclination for that favourite science, and he became a proficient himself. Thus in advanced periods a man may fall in love with a science, a woman, or a bottle. Thus avarice is said to shoot up in ancient soil, and thus, I myself bud forth in history at fifty-six.
The cameleon is said to receive a tincture from the colour of the object that is nearest him; but the human mind in reality receives a bias from its connections. Link a man to the pulpit, and he cannot proceed to any great lengths in profligate life. Enter him into the army, and he will endeavour to swear himself into consequence. Make the man of humanity an overseer of the poor, and he will quickly find the tender feelings of commiseration hardened. Make him a physician, and he will be the only person upon the premises, the heir excepted, unconcerned at the prospect of death. Make him a surgeon, and he will amputate a leg with the same indifference with which a cutler saws a piece of bone for a knife handle. You commit a rascal to prison because he merits transportation, but by the time he comes out he merits a halter. By uniting also with industry, we become industrious. It is easy to give instances of people whose distinguishing characteristic was idleness, but when they breathed the air of Birmingham, diligence became the predominant feature. The view of profit, like the view of corn to the hungry horse, excites to action.
Thus the various seeds scattered by nature into the soul at its first formation, either lie neglected, are urged into increase by their own powers, or are drawn towards maturity by the concurring circumstances that attend them.
The late Mr. Grenville observed, in the House of Commons, "That commerce tended to corrupt the morals of a people." If we examine the expression, we shall find it true in a certain degree, beyond which, it tends to improve them.
Perhaps every tradesman can furnish out numberless instances of small deceit. His conduct is marked with a littleness, which though allowed by general consent, is not strictly just. A person with whom I have long been connected in business, asked, if I had dealt with his relation, whom he had brought up, and who had lately entered into commercial life. I answered in the affirmative. He replied, "He is a very honest fellow." I told him I saw all the finesse of a tradesman about him. "Oh, rejoined my friend, a man has a right to say all he can in favour of his own goods." Nor is the seller alone culpable. The buyer takes an equal share in the deception. Though neither of them speak their sentiments, they well understand each other. Whilst the treaty is agitating, the profit of the tradesman vanishes, yet the buyer pronounces against the article; but when finished, the seller whispers his friend, "It is well sold," and the buyer smiles if a bargain.
Thus is the commercial track a line of minute deceits.
But, on the other hand, it does not seem possible for a man in trade to pass this line, without wrecking his reputation; which, if once broken, can never be made whole. The character of a tradesman is valuable, it is his all; therefore, whatever seeds of the vicious kind shoot forth in the mind, are carefully watched and nipped in the bud, that they may never blossom into action.
Thus having slated the accounts between morality and trade, I shall leave the reader to draw the ballance. I shall not pronounce after so great a master, and upon so delicate a subject, but shall only ask, "Whether the people in trade are more corrupt than those out?"
If the curious reader will lend an attentive ear to a pair of farmers in the market, bartering for a cow, he will find as much dissimulation as at St. James's, or at any other saint's, but couched in homelier phrase. The man of well-bred deceit is 'infinitely your friend--It would give him immense pleasure to serve you!' while the man in the frock 'Will be ---- if he tells you a word of a lye!' Deception is an innate principle of the human heart, not peculiar to one man, or one profession.
Having occasion for a horse, in 1759, I mentioned it to an acquaintance, and informed him of the uses: he assured me, he had one that would exactly suit; which he showed in the stable, and held the candle pretty high, for fear of affecting the straw. I told him it was needless to examine him, for I should rely upon his word, being conscious he was too much my friend to deceive me; therefore bargained, and caused him to be sent home. But by the light of the sun, which next morning illumined the heavens, I perceived the horse was greased on all fours. I therefore, in gentle terms, upbraided my friend with duplicity, when he replied with some warmth, "I would cheat my own brother in a horse." Had this honourable friend stood a chance of selling me a horse once a week, his own interest would have prevented him from deceiving me.
A man enters into business with a view of acquiring a fortune--A laudable motive! That property which rises from honest industry, is an honour to its owner; the repose of his age; the reward of a life of attention: but, great as the advantage seems, yet, being of a private nature, it is one of the least in the mercantile walk. For the intercourse occasioned by traffic, gives a man a view of the world, and of himself; removes the narrow limits that confine his judgment; expands the mind; opens his understanding; removes his prejudices; and polishes his manners. Civility and humanity are ever the companions of trade; the man of business is the man of liberal sentiment; a barbarous and commercial people, is a contradiction; if he is not the philosopher of nature, he is the friend of his country, and well understands her interest. Even the men of inferior life among us, whose occupations, one would think, tend to produce minds as callous as the mettle they work; lay a stronger claim to civilization, than in any other place with which I am acquainted. I am sorry to mutilate the compliment, when I mention the lower race of the other sex: no lady ought to be publicly insulted, let her appear in what dress she pleases. Both sexes, however, agree in exhibiting a mistaken pity, in cases of punishment, particularly by preventing that for misconduct in the military profession.
It is singular, that a predilection for Birmingham, is entertained by every denomination of visitants, from Edward Duke of York, who saw us in 1765, down to the presuming quack, who, griped with necessity, boldly discharges his filth from the stage. A paviour, of the name of Obrien, assured me in 1750, that he only meant to sleep one night in Birmingham, in his way from London to Dublin. But instead of pursuing his journey next morning, as intended, he had continued in the place thirty-five years: and though fortune had never elevated him above the pebbles of the street, yet he had never repented his stay.
It has already been remarked that I first saw Birmingham in 1741, accidentally cast into those regions of civility; equally unknown to every inhabitant, nor having the least idea of becoming one myself. Though the reflections of an untaught youth of seventeen cannot be striking, yet, as they were purely natural, permit me to describe them.
I had been before acquainted with two or three principal towns. The environs of all I had seen were composed of wretched dwellings, replete with dirt and poverty; but the buildings in the exterior of Birmingham rose in a style of elegance. Thatch, so plentiful in other towns, was not to be met with in this. I was surprised at the place, but more so at the people: They were a species I had never seen: They possessed a vivacity I had never beheld: I had been among dreamers, but now I saw men awake: Their very step along the street showed alacrity: Every man seemed to know and prosecute his own affairs: The town was large, and full of inhabitants, and those inhabitants full of industry. I had seen faces elsewhere tinctured with an idle gloom void of meaning, but here, with a pleasing alertness: Their appearance was strongly marked with the modes of civil life: I mixed a variety of company, chiefly of the lower ranks, and rather as a silent spectator: I was treated with an easy freedom by all, and with marks of favour by some: Hospitality seemed to claim this happy people for her own, though I knew not at that time from what cause.
I did not meet with this treatment in 1770, twenty nine years after, at Bosworth, where I accompanied a gentleman, with no other intent, than to view the field celebrated for the fall of Richard the third. The inhabitants enjoyed the cruel satisfaction of setting their dogs at us in the street, merely because we were strangers. Human figures, not their own, are seldom seen in those inhospitable regions: Surrounded with impassable roads, no intercourse with man to humanise the mind, no commerce to smooth their rugged manners, they continue the boors of nature.
Thus it appears, that characters are influenced by profession. That the great advantage of private fortune, and the greater to society, of softening and forming the mind, are the result of trade. But these are not the only benefits that flow from this desirable spring. It opens the hand of charity to the assistance of distress; witness the Hospital and the two Charity Schools, supported by annual donation: It adds to the national security, by supplying the taxes for internal use, and, for the prosecution of war. It adds to that security, by furnishing the inhabitants with riches, which they are ever anxious to preserve, even at the risk of their lives; for the preservation of private wealth, tends to the preservation of the state.
It augments the value of landed property, by multiplying the number of purchasers: It produces money to improve that land into a higher state of cultivation, which ultimately redounds to the general benefit, by affording plenty.
It unites bodies of men in social compact, for their mutual interest: It adds to the credit and pleasure of individuals, by enabling them to purchase entertainment and improvement, both of the corporeal and intellectual kind.
It finds employment for the hand that would otherwise be found in mischief: And it elevates the character of a nation in the scale of government.
Birmingham, by her commercial consequence, has, of late, justly assumed the liberty of nominating one of the representatives for the county; and, to her honor, the elective body never regretted her choice.
In that memorable contest of 1774, we were almost to a man of one mind: if an odd dozen among us, of a different mould, did not assimulate with the rest, they were treated, as men of free judgment should ever be treated, with civility, and the line of harmony was not broken.
If this little treatise happens to travel into some of our corporate places, where the fire of contention, blown by the breath of party, is kept alive during seven years, let them cast a second glance over the above remark.
Some of the first words after the creation, increase and multiply, are applicable to Birmingham; but as her own people are insufficient for the manufactures, she demands assistance for two or three miles round her. In our early morning walks, on every road proceeding from the town, we meet the sons of diligence returning to business, and bringing in the same dusky smuts, which the evening before they took out. And though they appear of a darkish complexion, we may consider it is the property of every metal to sully the user; money itself has the same effect, and yet he deems it no disgrace who is daubed by fingering it; the disgrace lies with him who has none to finger.
The profits arising from labour, to the lower orders of men, seem to surpass those of other mercantile places. This is not only visible in the manufactures peculiar to Birmingham, but in the more common occupations of the barber, taylor, shoe-maker, etc. who bask in the rays of plenty.
It is entertaining to the curious observer, to contemplate the variation of things. We know of nothing, either in the natural or moral world, that continues in the same state: From a number of instances that might be adduced, permit me to name one--that of money. This, considered in the abstract, is of little or no value; but, by the common consent of mankind, is erected into a general arbitrator, to fix a value upon all others: a medium through which every thing passes: a balance by which they must be weighed: a touchstone to which they must be applied to find their worth: though we can neither eat nor drink it, we can neither eat nor drink without it.--He that has none best knows its use.
It has long been a complaint, that the same quantity of that medium, money, will not produce so much of the necessaries of life, particularly food, as heretofore; or, in other words, that provisions have been gradually rising for many ages, and that the milling, which formerly supported the laborious family a whole week, will not now support it one day.
In times of remarkable scarcity, such as those in 1728, 41, 56, 66, and 74, the press abounded with publications on the subject; but none, which I have seen, reached the question, though short.
It is of no consequence, whether a bushel of corn sells for six pence, or six shillings, but, what time a man must labour before he can earn one?
If, by the moderate labour of thirty-six hours, in the reign of Henry the Third, he could acquire a groat, which would purchase a bushel of wheat; and if, in the reign of George the Third, he works the same number of hours for eight shillings, which will make the same purchase, the balance is exactly even. If, by our commercial concerns with the eastern and the western worlds, the kingdom abounds with bullion, money must be cheaper; therefore a larger quantity is required to perform the same use. If money would go as far now as in the days of Henry the Third, a journeyman in Birmingham might amass a ministerial fortune.
Whether provisions abound more or less? And whether the poor fare better or worse, in this period than in the other? are also questions dependant upon trade, and therefore worth investigating.
If the necessaries of life abound more in this reign, than in that of Henry the Third, we cannot pronounce them dearer.
Perhaps it will not be absurd to suppose, that the same quantity of land, directed by the superior hand of cultivation, in the eighteenth century, will yield twice the produce, as by the ignorant management of the thirteenth. We may suppose also, by the vast number of new inclosures which have annually taken place since the revolution, that twice the quantity of land is brought into cultivation: It follows, that four times the quantity of provisions is raised from the earth, than was raised under Henry the Third; which will leave a large surplus in hand, after we have deducted for additional luxury, a greater number of consumers, and also for exportation.
This extraordinary stock is also a security against famine, which our forefathers severely felt.
It will be granted, that in both periods the worst of the meat was used by the poor. By the improvements in agriculture, the art of feeding cattle is well understood, and much in practice; as the land improves, so will the beast that feeds upon it: if the productions, therefore, of the slaughter house, in this age, surpass those of Henry the Third, then the fare of the poor is at least as much superior now, as the worst of fat meat is superior to the worst of lean.
The poor inhabitants in that day, found it difficult to procure bread; but in this, they sometimes add cream and butter.
Thus it appears, that through the variation of things a balance is preserved: That provisions have not advanced in price, but are more plentiful: And that the lower class of men have found in trade, that intricate, but beneficial clue, which guides them into the confines of luxury.
Provisions and the manufactures, like a pair of scales, will not preponderate together; but as weight is applied to the one, the other will advance.
As labour is irksome to the body, a man will perform no more of it than necessity obliges him; it follows, that in those times when plenty preponderates, the manufactures tend to decay: For if a man can support his family with three days labour, he will not work six.
As the generality of men will perform no more work than produces a maintenance, reduce that maintenance to half the price, and they will perform but half the work: Hence half the commerce of a nation is destroyed at one blow, and what is lost by one kingdom will be recovered by another, in rivalship.
A commercial people, therefore, will endeavour to keep provisions at a superior rate, yet within reach of the poor.
It follows also, that luxury is no way detrimental to trade; for we frequently observe ability and industry exerted to support it.
The practice of the Birmingham manufacturer, for, perhaps, a hundred generations, was to keep within the warmth of his own forge.
The foreign customer, therefore, applied to him for the execution of orders, and regularly made his appearance twice a year; and though this mode of business is not totally extinguished, yet a very different one is adopted.
The merchant stands at the head of the manufacturer, purchases his produce, and travels the whole island to promote the sale: A practice that would have astonished our fore fathers. The commercial spirit of the age, hath also penetrated beyond the confines of Britain, and explored the whole continent of Europe; nor does it stop there, for the West-Indies, and the American world, are intimately acquainted with the Birmingham merchant; and nothing but the exclusive command of the East-India Company, over the Asiatic trade, prevents our riders from treading upon the heels of each other, in the streets of Calcutta.
To this modern conduct of Birmingham, in sending her sons to the foreign market, I ascribe the chief cause of her rapid increase.
By the poor's books it appears, there are not three thousand houses in Birmingham, that pay the parochial rates; whilst there are more then five thousand that do not, chiefly through inability. Hence we see what an amazing number of the laborious class of mankind is among us. This valuable part of the creation, is the prop of the remainder. They are the rise and support of our commerce. From this fountain we draw our luxuries and our pleasures. They spread our tables, and oil the wheels of our carriages. They are also the riches and the defence of the country.
How necessary then, is it to direct with prudence, the rough passions of this important race, and make them subservient to the great end of civil society. The deficiency of conduct in this useful part of our species ought to be supplied by the superior.
Let not the religious reader be surprised if I say, their follies, and even their vices, under certain restrictions, are beneficial. Corruption in the community, as well as in the natural body, accelerates vital existence.
Let us survey one of the men, who begin life at the lowest ebb; without property, or any other advantage but that of his own prudence.
He comes, by length of time and very minute degrees, from being directed himself, to have the direction of others. He quits the precincts of servitude, and enters the dominions of command: He laboured for others, but now others labour for him. Should the whole race, therefore, possess the same prudence, they would all become masters. Where then could be found the servant? Who is to perform the manual part? Who to execute the orders of the merchant? A world consisting only of masters, is like a monster consisting only of a head. We know that the head is no more than the leading power, the members are equally necessary. And, as one member is placed in a more elevated state than another, so are the ranks of men, that no void may be left. The hands and the feet, were designed to execute the drudgery of life; the head for direction, and all are suitable in their sphere.
If we turn the other side of the picture, we shall see a man born in affluence, take the reins of direction; but like Phæton, not being able to guide them, blunders on from mischief to mischief, till he involves himself in destruction, comes prone to the earth, and many are injured by his fall. From directing the bridle, he submits to the bit; seeks for bread in the shops, the line designed him by nature; where his hands become callous with the file, and where, for the first time in his life, he becomes useful to an injured society.
Thus, from imprudence, folly, and vice, is produced poverty;--poverty produces labour; from labour, arise the manufactures; and from these, the riches of a country, with all their train of benefits.
It would be difficult to enumerate the great variety of trades practised in Birmingham, neither would it give pleasure to the reader. Some of them, spring up with the expedition of a blade of grass, and, like that, wither in a summer. If some are lasting, like the sun, others seem to change with the moon. Invention is ever at work. Idleness; the manufactory of scandal, with the numerous occupations connected with the cotton; the linen, the silk, and the woollen trades, are little known among us.
Birmingham begun with the productions of the anvil, and probably will end with them. The sons of the hammer, were once her chief inhabitants; but that great croud of artists is now lost in a greater: Genius seems to increase with multitude.
Part of the riches, extension, and improvement of Birmingham, are owing to the late John Taylor, Esq; who possessed the singular powers of perceiving things as they really were. The spring, and consequence of action, were open to his view; whom we may justly deem the Shakespear or the Newton of his day. He rose from minute beginnings, to shine in the commercial hemisphere, as they in the poetical and philosophical--Imitation is part of the human character. An example of such eminence in himself, promoted exertion in others; which, when prudence guided the helm, led on to fortune: But the bold adventurer who crouded sail, without ballast and without rudder, has been known to overset the vessel, and sink insolvent.
To this uncommon genius we owe the gilt-button, the japanned and gilt snuff-boxes, with the numerous race of enamels--From the same fountain also issued the paper snuff-box, at which one servant earned three pounds ten shillings per week, by painting them at a farthing each.
In his shop were weekly manufactured buttons to the amount of 800l exclusive of other valuable productions.
One of the present nobility, of distinguished taste, examining the works, with the master, purchased some of the articles, amongst others, a toy of eighty guineas value, and, while paying for them, observed with a smile, "he plainly saw he could not reside in Birmingham for less than two hundred pounds a day."
The toy trades first made their appearance in Birmingham, in the beginning of Charles the second, in an amazing variety, attended with all their beauties and their graces. The first in pre-eminence is
The BUTTON.
This beautiful ornament appears with infinite variation; and though the original date is rather uncertain, yet we well remember the long coats of our grandfathers covered with half a gross of high-tops, and the cloaks of our grandmothers, ornamented with a horn button nearly the size of a crown piece, a watch, or a John apple, curiously wrought, as having passed through the Birmingham press.
Though the common round button keeps on with the steady pace of the day, yet we sometimes see the oval, the square, the pea, and the pyramid, flash into existence. In some branches of traffic the wearer calls loudly for new fashions; but in this, the fashions tread upon each other, and crowd upon the wearer. The consumption of this article is astonishing. There seem to be hidden treasures couched within this magic circle, known only to a few, who extract prodigious fortunes out of this useful toy, whilst a far greater number, submit to a statute of bankruptcy.
Trade, like a restive horse, can rarely be managed; for, where one is carried to the end of a successful journey, many are thrown off by the way. The next that calls our attention is
The BUCKLE.
Perhaps the shoe, in one form or other, is nearly as ancient as the foot. It originally appeared under the name of, sandal; this was no other than a sole without an upper-leather. That fashion hath since been inverted, and we now, sometimes, see an upper-leather nearly without a sole. But, whatever was the cut of the shoe, it always demanded a fastening. Under the house of Plantagenet, it shot horizontally from the foot, like a Dutch scait, to an enormous length, so that the extremity was fattened to the knee, sometimes, with a silver chain, a silk lace, or even a pack-thread string, rather than avoid genteel taste.
This thriving beak, drew the attention of the legislature, who were determined to prune the exorbitant shoot. For in 1465 we find an order of council, prohibiting the growth of the shoe toe, to more than two inches, under the penalty of a dreadful curse from the priest, and, which was worse, the payment of twenty shillings to the king.
This fashion, like every other, gave way to time, and in its stead, the rose began to bud upon the foot. Which under the house of Tudor, opened in great perfection. No shoe was fashionable, without being fattened with a full-blown rose. Under the house of Stuart, the rose withered, which gave rise to the shoe-string.
The beaus of that age, ornamented their lower tier with double laces of silk, tagged with silver, and the extremities beautified with a small fringe of the same metal. The inferior class, wore laces of plain silk, linen, or even a thong of leather; which last is yet to be met with in the humble plains of rural life. But I am inclined to think, the artists of Birmingham had no great hand in fitting out the beau of the last century.
The revolution was remarkable, for the introduction of William, of liberty, and the minute buckle; not differing much in size and shape from the horse bean.
This offspring of fancy, like the clouds, is ever changing. The fashion of to-day, is thrown into the casting pot to-morrow.
The buckle seems to have undergone every figure, size and shape of geometrical invention: It has passed through every form in the whole zodiac of Euclid. The large square buckle is the ton of the present day. The ladies also, have adopted the reigning taste: It is difficult to discover their beautiful little feet, covered with an enormous shield of buckle; and we wonder to see the active motion under the massive load. Thus the British fair support the manufactures of Birmingham, and thus they kill by weight of metal.
GUNS.
Though the sword and the gun are equal companions in war, it does not appear they are of equal original. I have already observed, that the sword was the manufacture of Birmingham, in the time of the Britons.
But tradition tells us, King William was once lamenting "That guns were not manufactured in his dominions, but that he was obliged to procure them from Holland at a great expence, and greater difficulty."
One of the Members for Warwickshire being present, told the King, "He thought his constituents could answer his Majesty's wishes."--The King was pleased with the remark, and the Member posted to Birmingham. Upon application to a person in Digbeth, whose name I forget, the pattern was executed with precision, which, when presented to the royal board, gave entire satisfaction. Orders were immediately issued for large numbers, which have been so frequently repeated that they never lost their road; and the ingenious artists have been so amply rewarded, that they have rolled in their carriages to this day.--Thus the same instrument which is death to one man, is genteel life to another.
LEATHER.
It may seem singular to a modern eye, to view this place in the light of one vast tan-yard.--Though there is no appearance of that necessary article among us, yet Birmingham was once a famous market for leather. Digbeth not only abounded with tanners, but large numbers of hides arrived weekly for sale, where the whole country found a supply. When the weather would allow, they were ranged in columns in the High-street, and at other times deposited in the Leather-hall, at the East end of New-street, appropriated for their reception.
This market was of great antiquity, perhaps not less than seven hundred years, and continued till the beginning of the present century. We have two officers, annually chosen, by the name of leather-sealers, from a power given them by ancient charter, to mark the vendible hides; but now the leather-sealers have no duty, but that of taking an elegant dinner. Shops are erected upon tan-fats; the Leather-hall is gone to destruction, and we are reduced to one solitary tanner.
STEEL.
The progress of the arts, is equal to the progress of time; they began, and will end together. Though some of both are lost, yet they both accumulate.
The manufacture of iron, in Birmingham, is ancient beyond research; that of steel is of modern date.
Pride is inseparable from the human character, the man without it, is the man without breath: we trace it in various forms, through every degree of people; but like those objects about us, it is best discovered in our own sphere; those above, and those below us, rather escape our notice; envy attacks an equal.
Pride induced the Pope to look with contempt on the European Princes, and now induces them to return the compliment; it taught insolence to the Spaniard, selfishness to the Dutch; it teaches the rival nations of France and England to contend for power.
Pride preserves a man from mean actions, it throws him upon meaner; it whets the sword for destruction; it urges the laudable acts of humanity; it is the universal hinge on which we move; it glides the gentle stream of usefulness, it overflows the mounds of reason, and swells into a destructive flood; like the sun, in his milder rays, it animates and draws us towards perfection; but, like him, in his fiercer beams, it scorches and destroys.
Money is not the necessary attendant of pride, for it abounds no where more than in the lowest ranks. It adds a sprucer air to a sunday dress; casts a look of disdain from a bundle of rags; it boasts the honor of a family, while poverty unites a sole and upper-leather with a bandage of shop-thread. There are people who even pride themselves in humility.
This dangerous good, this necessary evil, supports the female character; without it, the brightest part of the creation would degenerate.
It will be asked, "What portion may be allowed?" Prudence will answer, "As much as you please, but not to disgust."
It is equally found in the senate-house, or the button-shop; the scene of action is the scene of pride; and I, unable to adorn this work with erudition, take a pride in cloathing a worn-out subject afresh, and that pride will increase, should the world smi ---- "But why, says my friend, do you forsake the title of your chapter, and lead us a dance through the mazes of pride? Can there be any connexion between that sovereign passion, and forging a bar of steel?" Yes, he who makes steel prides himself in carrying the art one step higher than he who makes iron.
This art appeared among us in the seventeenth century; was introduced by the family of Kettle. The name of Steelhouse-lane will convey to posterity the situation of the works, the commercial spirit of Birmingham, will convey the produce to the Antipodes.
From this warm, but dismal climate, issues the button, which shines on the breast, and the bayonet, intended to pierce it; the lancet, which bleeds the man, and the rowel, the horse; the lock, which preserves the beloved bottle, and the screw, to uncork it; the needle, equally obedient to the thimble and the pole.
NAILS.
In most occupations, the profit of the master and the journeyman bear a proportion: if the former is able to figure in genteel life, the latter is able to figure in silk stockings. If the matter can afford to allow upon his goods ten per cent. discount for money, the servant can afford to squander half his wages. In a worn-down trade, where the tides of profit are reduced to a low ebb, and where imprudence sets her foot upon the premises, the matter and the man starve together. Only half this is our present case.
The art of nail-making is one of the most ancient among us; we may safely charge its antiquity with four figures.
We cannot consider it a trade in, so much as of Birmingham; for we have but few nail-makers left in the town: our nailers are chiefly masters, and rather opulent. The manufacturers are so scattered round the country, that we cannot travel far, in any direction, out of the sound of the nail-hammer. But Birmingham, like a powerful magnet, draws the produce of the anvil to herself.
When I first approached her, from Walsall, in 1741, I was surprized at the prodigious number of blacksmiths shops upon the road; and could not conceive how a country, though populous, could support so many people of the same occupation. In some of these shops I observed one, or more females, stript of their upper garment, and not overcharged with their lower, wielding the hammer with all the grace of the sex. The beauties of their face were rather eclipsed by the smut of the anvil; or, in poetical phrase, the tincture of the forge had taken possession of those lips, which might have been taken by the kiss.
Struck with the novelty, I inquired, "Whether the ladies in this country shod horses?" but was answered, with a smile, "They are nailers."
A fire without heat, a nailer of a fair complexion, or one who despises the tankard, are equally rare among them. His whole system of faith may be comprised in one article--That the slender two-penny mug, used in a public house, is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.
While the master reaps the harvest of plenty, the workman submits to the scanty gleanings of penury, a thin habit, an early old age, and a figure bending towards the earth. Plenty comes not near his dwelling, except of rags, and of children. But few recruits arise from his nail-shop, except for the army. His hammer is worn into deep hollows, fitting the fingers of a dark and plump hand, hard as the timber it wears. His face, like the moon, is often seen through a cloud.
BELLOWS.
Man first catches the profession; the profession afterwards moulds the man.
In whatever profession we engage, we assume its character, become a part of it, vindicate its honor, its eminence, its antiquity; or feel a wound through its sides.
Though there may be no more pride in a minister of state, who opens a budget, than in a tinker who carries one, yet they equally contend for the honor of their trade.
Every man, from the attorney's clerk to the butcher's apprentice, feels his own honor, with that of his profession, wounded by travelling on foot. To be caught on his feet, is nearly the same as to be caught in a crime. The man who has gathered up his limbs, and hung them on a horse, looks down with dignity on him who has not; while the man on foot offers his humble bow, afraid to look up--If providence favours us with feet, is it a disgrace to use them?--I could instance a person who condescended to quit London, that center of trick, lace, and equipage; and in 1761, open a draper's shop in Birmingham: but his feet, or his pride, were so much hurt by walking, that he could scarcely travel ten doors from his own without a post-chaise--the result was, he became such an adept in riding, that in a few months, he rode triumphant into the Gazette. Being quickly scoured bright by the ill-judged laws of bankruptcy, he rode, for the last time, out of Birmingham, where he had so often rode in: but his injured creditors were obliged to walk after the slender dividend of eighteen pence in the pound. The man who can use his feet, is envied by him who cannot; and he, in turn, envies him who will not. Our health and our feet, in a double sense, go together. The human body has been justly compared to a musical instrument; I add, this instrument was never perfectly in tune, without a due portion of exercise.
The man of military character, puts on, with his scarlet, that martial air, which tells us, "he has formed a resolution to kill:" and we naturally ask, "Which sex?"
Some "pert and affected author" with anxiety on his brow, will be apt to step forward, and say, "Will you celebrate the man of the sword, who transfers the blush of his face to his back, and neglect the man of the quill, who, like the pelican, portions out his vitals to feed others? Which is preferable, he who lights up the mental powers, or he who puts them out? the man who stores the head with knowledge, or he who stores it with a bullet?"
The antiquarian supports his dignity with a solemn aspect; he treats a sin and a smile as synonimous; one half of which has been discarded from his childhood. If a smile in the house of religion, or of mourning, be absurd, is there any reason to expel it from those places where it is not? A tale will generally allow of two ingredients, information and amusement: but the historian and the antiquarian have, from time immemorial, used but one. Every smile, except that of contempt, is beneficial to the constitution; they tend to promote long life, and pleasure while that life lasts. Much may be said in favour of tears of joy, but more on joy without tears. I wonder the lively fancy of Hogarth never sketched the dull historian, in the figure of an ass, plodding to market under his panniers, laden with the fruits of antiquity, and old time driving up the rear, with his scythe converted into an hedge-stake.
The bellows-maker proclaims the honor of his art, by observing, he alone produces that instrument which commands the winds; his soft breeze, like that of the south, counter-acts the chill blasts of winter: by his efforts, like those of the sun, the world receives light: he creates when he pleases, and gives breath when he creates. In his caverns the winds deep at pleasure; and by his orders they set Europe in flames.
He pretends, that a gentle puff in the eyes of a reviewer, from a pair of his bellows, would tend to clear the sight, and enable him to distinguish between a smile and a serious face: that his circular board, like a ferula, applied by the handle to an inferior part, would induce him to peruse the whole treatise, and not partially pronounce from the preface.
He farther pretends, that the antiquity of his occupation will appear from the plenty of elm, once in the neighbourhood, but long cut up for his use: that the leather-market in Birmingham, for many ages, furnished him with sides; and though the manufacture of iron is allowed to be extremely ancient, yet the smith could not procure his heat without a blast, nor could that blast be raised without the bellows.
Two inferences arise from these remarks, that the antiquarian will frown on this little history; and that bellows-making is one of the oldest trades in Birmingham.
THREAD.
We, who reside in the interior parts of the kingdom, may observe the first traces of a river issue from its fountain; the current so extremely small, that if a bottle of liquor, distilled through the urinary vessels, was discharged into its course, it would manifestly augment the water, and quicken the stream: the reviving bottle, having added spirits to the man, seems to add spirits to the river.--If we pursue this river, winding through one hundred and thirty miles, we shall observe it collect strength as it runs, expand its borders, swell into consequence, employ multitudes of people, carry wealth in its bosom, and exactly resemble thread-making in Birmingham.
If we represent to our idea, a man able to employ three or four people, himself in an apron, one of the number; but being unable to write his name, shows his attachment to the christian religion, by signing the cross to receipts; whose method of book-keeping, like that of the publican, is a door and a lump of chalk; producing a book which none can peruse but himself: who, having manufactured 40lb. weight of thread, of divers colours, and rammed it into a pair of leather bags, something larger than a pair of boots, which we might deem the arms of his trade empaled; flung them on a horse, and placed himself on the top, by way of a crest; visits an adjacent market, to starve with his goods at a stall, or retail them to the mercer, nor return without the money--we shall see a thread-maker of 1652.
If we pursue this occupation, winding through the mazes of one hundred and thirty years, we shall see it enlarge its boundaries, multiply its people, increase its consequence and wealth, till 1782, when we behold the matter in possession of correct accounts, the apron thrown aside, the stall kicked over, the bags tossed into the garret, and the mercer overlooked in the grand prospect of exportation. We farther behold him take the lead in provincial concerns, step into his own carriage, and hold the king's commission as a magistrate.
PRINTING,
By JOHN BASKERVILLE.
The pen of an historian rejoices in the actions of the great; the fame of the deserving, like an oak tree, is of sluggish growth; and, like the man himself, they are not matured in a day. The present generation becomes debtor to him who excels, but the future will discharge that debt with more than simple interest. The still voice of fame may warble in his ears towards the close of life, but her trumpet seldom sounds in full clarion, till those ears are stopped with the finger of death.
This son of genius was born at Wolverley, in the county of Worcester, in 1706; heir to a paternal estate of 60l. per annum, which, fifty years after, while in his own possession, had increased to 90l. He was trained to no occupation; but, in 1726, became a writing-matter in Birmingham.--In 1737, he taught school in the Bull-ring, and is said to have written an excellent hand.
As painting suited his talents, he entered into the lucrative branch of japanning, and resided at No. 22, in Moor-street.
He took, in 1745, a building lease of eight acres, two furlongs north west of the town, to which he gave the name of Easy-hill, converted it into a little Eden, and built a house in the center: but the town, as if conscious of his merit, followed his retreat, and surrounded it with buildings.--Here he continued the business of a japanner for life: his carriage, each pannel of which was a distinct picture, might be considered the pattern-card of his trade, and was drawn by a beautiful pair of cream-coloured horses.
His inclination for letters induced him, in 1750, to turn his thoughts towards the press. He spent many years in the uncertain pursuit; sunk 600l. before he could produce one letter to please himself, and some thousands before the shallow stream of profit began to flow.
His first attempt, in 1756, was a quarto edition of Virgil, price one guinea, now worth several.--He afterwards printed Paradise Lost, the Bible, Common Prayer, Roman and English Classics, etc. in various sizes, with more satisfaction to the literary world than emolument to himself.
In 1765, he applied to his friend, Dr. Franklin, then at Paris, and now Ambassador from America, to sound the literati, respecting the purchase of his types; but received for answer, "That the French, reduced by the war of 1756, were so far from pursuing schemes of taste, that they were unable to repair their public buildings, but suffered the scaffolding to rot before them."
In private life he was a humorist; idle in the extreme; but his invention was of the true Birmingham model, active. He could well design, but procured others to execute; wherever he found merit he caressed it: he was remarkably polite to the stranger; fond of show: a figure rather of the smaller size, and delighted to adorn that figure with gold lace.--Although constructed with the light timbers of a frigate, his movement was solemn as a ship of the line.
During the twenty-five years I knew him, though in the decline of life, he retained the singular traces of a handsome man. If he exhibited a peevish temper, we may consider good-nature and intense thinking are not always found together.
Taste accompanied him through the different walks of agriculture, architecture, and the finer arts. Whatever passed through his fingers, bore the lively marks of John Baskerville.
His aversion to christianity would not suffer him to lie among christians; he therefore erected a mausoleum in his own grounds for his remains, and died without issue, in 1775, at the age of 69.--Many efforts were used after his death, to dispose of the types; but, to the lading discredit of the British nation, no purchaser could be found in the whole commonwealth of letters. The universities coldly rejected the offer. The London booksellers understood no science like that of profit. The valuable property, therefore, lay a dead weight, till purchased by a literary society at Paris, in 1779, for 3700l.
It is an old remark, that no country abounds with genius so much as this island; and it is a remark nearly as old, that genius is no where so little rewarded; how else came Dryden, Goldsmith, and Chatterton to want bread? Is merit, like a flower of the field, too common to attract notice? or is the use of money beneath the care of exalted talents?
Invention seldom pays the inventor. If you ask, what fortune Baskerville ought to have been rewarded with? "The most which can be comprised in five figures." If you farther ask, what he possessed? "The least;" but none of it squeezed from the press. What will the shade of this great man think, if capable of thinking, that he has spent a fortune of opulence, and a life of genius, in carrying to perfection the greatest of all human inventions; and his productions, slighted by his country, were hawked over Europe, in quest of a bidder?
We must revere, if we do not imitate, the taste and economy of the French nation, who, brought by the British arms, in 1762, to the verge of ruin, rising above distress, were able, in 17 years, to purchase Baskerville's elegant types, refused by his own country, and expend an hundred thousand pounds in printing the works of Voltaire!
BRASS FOUNDRY.
The curious art before us is perhaps less ancient than profitable, and less healthful than either. I shall not enquire whose grandfather was the first brass-founder here, but shall leave their grandsons to settle that important point with my successor who shall next write the History of Birmingham. Whoever was the first, I believe he figured in the reign of King William; but, though he sold his productions at an excessive price, he did not, like the moderns, possess the art of acquiring a fortune: but now the master knows the way to affluence, and the servant to liquor.
To enumerate the great variety of occupations amongst us, would be as useless, and as unentertaining to the reader, perhaps to the writer, as to count the pebbles in the street.
Having therefore visited a few, by way of specimen, I shall desist from farther pursuit, and wheel off in a
HACKNEY COACH.
Wherever the view of profit opens, the eyes of a Birmingham man are open to see it.
In 1775, a person was determined to try if a Hackney Coach would take with the inhabitants. He had not mounted the box many times before he inadvertently dropped the expression, "Thirty shillings a day!" The word was attended with all the powers of magic, for instantly a second rolled into the circus.
And these elevated sons of the lash are now augmented to fifteen, whom we may justly denominate a club of tippling deities, who preside over weddings, christenings, and pleasurable excursions.
It would give satisfaction to the curious calculator, could any mode be found of discovering the returns of trade, made by the united inhabitants. But the question is complicated. It only admits of surmise. From comparing many instances in various ranks of life among us, I have been led to suppose, that the weekly returns exceed the annual rent of the buildings. And as these rents are nearly ascertained, perhaps, we may conclude, that those returns are about 80,000. If we deduct for four weeks holidays, the annual returns will be--3,840,000l.
Now we have entered the visionary regions of fancy, let us pursue the thought a stage farther; and consider Birmingham as one great family, possessed of a capital of Eight Millions. Her annual returns in trade as above, from which we will deduct for the purchase of
| Raw materials | 1,920,000 |
| House rent, repairs and taxes | 100,000 |
| Losses in trade | 50,000 |
| Maintenance, clothing, and pleasurable | |
| expences, for 50,000 people, at 10s. | |
| per week | 1,300,000 |
| --------- | |
| 3,370,000 | |
| --------- | |
| Annual addition to the capital | 470,000 |
Should a future antagonist arise, and attack me in numbers, I promise beforehand to relinquish the field; for I profess only, to stand upon ideal ground.
BANK.
Perhaps a public bank is as necessary to the health of the commercial body, as exercise to the natural. The circulation of the blood and spirits are promoted by one, so are cash and bills by the other; and a stagnation is equally detrimental to both. Few places are without: Yet Birmingham, famous in the annals of traffic, could boast no such claim. To remedy this defect therefore, about every tenth trader was a banker, or, a retailer of cash. At the head of whom were marshalled the whole train of drapers and grocers, till the year 1765, when a regular bank was established by Messrs. Taylor and Lloyd, two opulent tradesmen, whose credit being equal to that of the bank of England, quickly collected the shining rays of sterling property into its focus.
GOVERNMENT.
Have you, my dear reader, seen a sword hilt, of curious, and of Birmingham manufactory, covered with spangles of various sizes, every one of which carries a separate lustre, but, when united, has a dazzling effect? Or, have you seen a ring, from the same origin, set with diamonds of many dimensions, the least of which, sparkles with amazing beauty, but, when beheld in cluster, surprize the beholder? Or, have you, in a frosty evening, seen the heavens bespangled with refulgent splendor, each stud shining with intrinsic excellence, but, viewed in the aggregate, reflect honour upon the maker, and enliven the hemisphere? Such is the British government. Such is that excellent system of polity, which shines, the envy of the stranger, and the protector of the native.
Every city, town and village in the English hemisphere, hath a separate jurisdiction of its own, and may justly be deemed a stud in the grand lustre.
Though the British Constitution is as far from perfection, as the glory of the ring and the hilt is from that of the sun which causes it, or the stars from the day; yet perhaps it stands higher in the scale of excellence, than that of its neighbours. We may, with propriety, allow that body to shine with splendor, which hath been polishing for seventeen hundred years. Much honour is due to the patriotic merit which advanced it to its present eminence.
Though Birmingham is but one sparkle of the brilliant clustre, yet she is a sparkle of the first water, and of the first magnitude.
The more perfect any system of government, the happier the people. A wise government will punish for the commission of crimes, but a wiser will endeavour to prevent them. Man is an active animal: If he is not employed in some useful pursuit, he will employ himself in mischief. Example is also prevalent: If one man falls into error, he often draws another. Though heaven, for wise purposes, suffers a people to fulfil the measure of their iniquities, a prudent state will nip them in the bud.
It is easy to point out some places, only one third the magnitude of Birmingham, whose frequent breaches of the law, and quarrels among themselves, find employment for half a dozen magistrates, and four times that number of constables; whilst the business of this, was for many years conducted by a single Justice, the late John Wyrley, Esq. If the reader should think I am mistaken and object, that parish affairs cannot be conducted without a second? Let me reply, He conducted that second also.
As human nature is nearly the same, whether in or out of Birmingham; and as enormities seem more prevalent out than in, we may reasonably ascribe the cause to the extraordinary industry of the inhabitants, not allowing time to brood over, and bring forth mischief, equal to places of inferior diligence.
We have at present two acting magistrates to hold the beam of justice, the Rev. Benjamin Spencer, and Joseph Carles, Esq; who both reside at a distance.
Many of our corporate towns received their charters from that amiable, but unfortunate prince, Henry the Second. These were the first dawnings of British liberty, after fixing the Norman yoke. They were afterwards ratified and improved by the subsequent Kings of England; granting not only the manors, but many exclusive privileges. But at this day, those places which were so remarkably favoured with the smiles of royalty, are not quite so free as those that were not. The prosperity of this happy place proves the assertion, of which every man is free the moment he enters.
We often behold a pompous corporation, which sounds well in history, over something like a dirty village--This is a head without a body. The very reverse is our case--We are a body without a head. For though Birmingham has undergone an amazing alteration in extension, riches and population, yet the government is nearly the same as the Saxons left it. This part of my important history therefore must suffer an eclipse: This illustrious chapter, that rose in dazling brightness, must be veiled in the thick clouds of obscurity: I shall figure with my corporation in a despicable light. I am not able to bring upon the stage, a mayor and a group of aldermen, dressed in antique scarlet, bordered with fur, drawing a train of attendants; the meanest of which, even the pinder, is badged with silver: Nor treat my guest with a band of music, in scarlet cloaks with broad laces. I can grace the hand of my Birmingham fidler with only a rusty instrument, and his back with barely a whole coat; neither have I a mace for the inaugeration of the chief magistrate. The reader, therefore, must either quit the place, or be satisfied with such entertainment as the company affords.
The officers, who are annually chosen, to direct in this prosperous feat of fortune, are
| An High Bailiff. | Two High Tasters. |
| Low Bailiff. | Two Low Tasters. |
| Two Constables. | Two Asseirers. And |
| Headborough. | Two Leather Sealers. |
All which, the constables excepted, are no more than servants to the lord of the manor; and whose duty extends no farther, than to the preservation of the manorial rights.
The high bailiff is to inspect the market, and see that justice takes place between buyer and seller; to rectify the weights and dry measures used in the manor.
The low bailiff summons a jury, who choose all the other officers, and generally with prudence. But the most important part of his office is, to treat his friends at the expence of about Seventy Pounds.
The headborough is only an assistant to the constables, chiefly in time of absence.
High tasters examine the goodness of beer, and its measure.
Low tasters inspect the meat exposed to sale, and cause that to be destroyed which is unfit for use.
Asseirers ratify the chief rent and amercements, between the lord and the inhabitant. And the
Leather sealers, stamped a public seal upon the hides, when Birmingham was a market for leather.
These manorial servants, instituted by ancient charter, chiefly possess a name, without an office. Thus order seems assisted by industry, and thus a numerous body of inhabitants are governed without a governor.
Exclusive of the choice of officers, the jury impannelled by the low bailiff, have the presentation of all encroachments upon the lord's waste, which has long been neglected.
The duties of office are little known, except that of taking a generous dinner, which is punctually observed. It is too early to begin business till the table is well stored with bottles, and too late afterwards.
During the existence of the house of Birmingham, the court-leet was held at the Moat, in what we should now think a large and shabby room, conducted under the eye of the low bailiff, at the expence of the lord.
The jury, twice a year, were witnesses, that the famous dish of roast beef, ancient as the family who gave it, demanded the head of the table. The court was afterwards held at the Leather-hall, and the expence, which was trifling, borne by the bailiff. Time, prosperity, and emulation, are able to effect considerable changes. The jury, in the beginning of the present century, were impannelled in the Old Cross, then newly erected, from whence they adjourned to the house of the bailiff, and were feasted at the growing charge of two or three pounds.
This practice continued till about the year 1735, when the company, grown too bulky for a private house, assembled at a tavern, and the bailiff enjoyed the singular privilege of consuming ten pounds upon his guests.
It is easier to advance in expences than to retreat. In 1760, they had increased to forty pounds, and in the next edition of this work, we may expect to see the word hundred.
The lord was anciently founder of the feast, and treated his bailiff; but now that custom is inverted, and the bailiff treats his lord.
The proclamation of our two fairs, is performed by the high bailiff, in the name of the Lord of the Manor; this was done a century ago, without the least expence. The strength of his liquor, a silver tankard, and the pride of shewing it, perhaps induced him, in process of time, to treat his attendants.
His ale, without a miracle, was, in a few years, converted into wine, and that of various sorts; to which was added, a small collation; and now his friends are complimented with a card, to meet him at the Hotel, where he incurs an expence of twenty pounds.
While the spirit of the people refines by intercourse, industry, and the singular jurisdiction among us, this insignificant pimple, on our head of government, swells into a wen.
Habits approved are soon acquired: a third entertainment has, of late years, sprung up, termed the constables feast, with this difference, it is charged to the public. We may consider it a wart on the political body, which merits the caustic.
Deritend, being a hamlet of Birmingham, sends her inhabitants to the court-leet, where they perform suit and service, and where her constable is chosen by the same jury.
I shall here exhibit a defective list of our principal officers during the last century. If it should be objected, that a petty constable is too insignificant, being the lowest officer of the crown, for admission into history; I answer, by whatever appellation an officer is accepted, he cannot be insignificant who stands at the head of 50,000 people. Perhaps, therefore, the office of constable may be sought for in future, and the officer himself assume a superior consequence.
The dates are the years in which they were chosen, fixed by charter, within thirty days after Michaelmas.
CONSTABLES.
| 1680 | John Simco | John Cottrill | |
| 1681 | John Wallaxall | William Guest | |
| 1682 | George Abel | Samuel White | |
| 1683 | Thomas Russell | Abraham Spooner | |
| 1684 | Roger Macham | William Wheely | |
| 1685 | Thomas Cox | John Green | |
| 1686 | Henry Porter | Samuel Carless | |
| 1687 | Samuel Banner | John Jesson | |
| 1690 | Joseph Robinson | John Birch | |
| 1691 | John Rogers | Richard Leather | |
| 1692 | Thomas Robins | Corbet Bushell | |
| 1693 | Joseph Rann | William Sarjeant | |
| 1694 | Rowland Hall | John Bryerly | |
| 1695 | Richard Scott | George Wells | |
| 1696 | Joseph Haddock | Robert Mansell | |
| 1697 | James Greir | John Foster | |
| 1698 | John Baker | Henry Camden | |
| 1699 | William Kettle | Thomas Gisborn | |
| 1700 | John Wilson | Joseph Allen | |
| 1701 | Nicholas Bakewell | Richard Banner | |
| 1702 | William Collins | Robert Groves | |
| 1703 | Henry Parrot | Benjamin Carless | |
| 1704 | William Brierly | John Hunt | |
| 1705 | Jonathan Seeley | Thomas Holloway | |
| 1706 | Robert Moore | John Savage | |
| 1707 | Isaac Spooner | Samuel Hervey | |
| 1708 | Richard Weston | Thomas Cope | |
| 1709 | Samuel Walford | Thomas Green | |
| 1710 | John Foxall | William Norton | |
| 1711 | Stephen Newton | John Taylor | |
| 1712 | William Russel | John Cotterell | |
| 1713 | John Shaw | Thomas Hallford | |
| 1714 | Randall Bradburn | Joseph May | |
| 1715 | Stephen Newton | Samuel Russell | |
| 1716 | Stephen Newton | Joseph Carless | |
| 1717 | Abraham Foxall | William Spilsbury | |
| 1718 | John Gisborn | Henry Carver | |
| 1719 | Samuel Hays | Joseph Smith | |
| 1720 | John Barnsley | John Humphrys | |
| 1721 | William Bennett | Thomas Wilson | |
| 1722 | John Harrison | Simon Harris |
A LIST OF THE
HIGH BAILIFFS, LOW BAILIFFS, AND CONSTABLES,
Of the TOWN of BIRMINGHAM, from 1732, to 1782.
| YEAR | HIGH BAILIFFS. | LOW BAILIFFS. | CONSTABLES. | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1732 | Thomas Wilson | John Webster | Joseph Bradnock | John Wilson |
| 1733 | John Webster | Joseph Kettle | Thomas Nickin | James Baker |
| 1734 | John Wickins | Thomas Lakin | Joseph Scott, esq;[[2]] | James Taylor |
| 1735 | Joseph Marston | John Russell | John Webster | Thomas Ashfield |
| 1736 | Joseph Bradnock | Robert Moore | Thomas Wickins | Joseph Fullelove |
| 1737 | James Baker | Isaac Ingram | John Kettle | Richard Porter |
| 1738 | Joseph Smith | William Mason | William Hunt | Henry Hun |
| 1739 | Thomas Wickens | William Harvey | Edward Burton | John England |
| 1740 | Simon Harris | Thomas Russel | Joseph Richards | T. Honeyborn |
| 1741 | Daniel Gill | George Abney | Thomas Turner | John Bedford |
| 1742 | ||||
| 1743 | Josiah Jefferys | William Kettle | John Russel | Thomas |
| 1744 | George Davies | J. Humphrys, Jr. | William Mason | William Ward |
| 1745 | Edward Burton | Robert Moore | Joseph Wollaston | John Turner |
| 1746 | ||||
| 1747 | Thomas Ashwell | J. Taylor, esq; | Joseph Walker | Josiah Hunt |
| 1748 | Thomas Wickens | John Roe | Robert Moore | John Horton |
| 1749 | Joseph Fullelove | Richard Brett | Henry Hunt | Joseph Ruston |
| 1750 | Thomas Lakin | Joseph Smith | John Gill | Luke Bell |
| 1751 | Thomas Turner | Benj. Mansell | John Walters | W. Walsingham |
| 1752 | James Baker | John Taylor | Price Thomas | Joseph Thomas |
| 1753 | E. Jordan, esq; | Samuel Harvey | Samuel Birch | Samuel Richards |
| 1754 | Thomas Cottrell | Joseph Richards | John Bellears | John Camden |
| 1755 | Joseph Walker | John Wells[3] | Stephen Colmore | John Powell |
| 1756 | John Bellears | J. Kettle, esq; | Ambrose Foxall | John Gray |
| 1757 | William Patteson | Joseph Webster | J. Darbyshire | Richard Brett |
| 1758 | James Horton | T. Lawrence | Thomas Richards | Sam. Pemberton |
| 1759 | John Walker | Thomas Abney | G. Spilsbury | Edward Weston |
| 1760 | John Turner | Abel Humphrys | Richard Dingley | Web Marriott |
| 1761 | John Baskerville | Stephen Bedford | Michael Lakin | Nehemiah Bague |
| 1762 | Joseph Thomas | James Jackson | George Birch | John Green |
| 1763 | John Gold | John Lee | William Parks | John Daws |
| 1764 | Richard Hicks | J. Ryland | S. Bradburn, esq; | Geo. Anderton |
| 1765 | Thomas Vallant | Sam. Richards | Ed. H. Noble | Elias Wallin |
| 1766 | John Lane | Henry Venour | John Lane | Joseph Adams |
| 1767 | John Horn | Jo. Wilkinson | Richard Rabone | Thomas Care |
| 1768 | Gregory Hicks | W. Russell, esq; | Thomas Bingham | John Moody |
| 1769 | James Male | Samuel Ray | Thomas Gisborne | William Mansell |
| 1770 | Joshua Glover | Thomas Russell | T. Lutwyche | Thomas Barker |
| 1771 | John Harris | J. Hornblower | Thomas Cooper | Walter Salt |
| 1772 | William Holden | Jos. Tyndall | R. Anderton | T. Hunt |
| 1773 | Thomas Westley | John Richards | Ob. Bellamy | John Smart |
| 1774 | John Ward | John Francis | W. Hodgkins | Thomas Wight |
| 1775 | Thomas Hurd | John Taylor, esq; | John Startin | T. Everton |
| 1776 | E.W. Patteson | Josiah Rogers | Thomas Corden | Joseph Wright |
| 1777 | Ed. Thomason | S. Pemberton | Joseph Jukes | Joseph Sheldon |
| 1778 | Joseph Green | William Hunt | Thomas Wright | John Allen[4] |
| 1779 | T. Faulconbridge | W. Humphrys | John Guest | Jonathan Wigley |
| 1780 | Daniel Winwood | William Scott | William Thomas | John Bird |
| 1781 | William Hicks | W. Taylor, esq; | John Dallaway | Richard Porter |
| 1782 | Thomas Carless | G. Humphrys | John Holmes | Thomas Barrs |
[2] Joseph Scott, Esq; not choosing the official part, procured a substitute to perform it, in the person of the late Constable James Baker.
[3] in office, Benjamin Mansell was chosen in his stead.
[4] was charged with a fine of 25l. by the lady of the manor, and John Miles chosen in his stead.
Three of the Inhabitants have, since I knew the place, served the Office of SHERIFF for the County, viz.
| John Taylor, Esquire, in | 1756. |
| Edward Jordan, Esquire, in | 1757. |
| And Isaac Spooner, Esquire, in | 1763. |
COURT OF REQUESTS.
Law is the very basis of civil society, without it man would quickly return to his original rudeness; the result would be, robbery and blood:--and even laws themselves are of little moment, without a due execution of them--there is a necessity to annex punishment.
But there is no necessity to punish the living, who are innocent, by hanging the dead bodies of criminals in the air. This indecent and inhuman custom, which originated from the days of barbarism, reflects an indelible disgrace upon a civilized age. The intention, no doubt, was laudable; to prevent the commission of crimes, but does it answer that intention?
In 1759, two brothers, of the name of Darby, were hung in chains near Hales-Owen, since which time there has been only one murder committed in the whole neighbourhood, and that under the very gibbet upon which they hung[5].
[5] Joseph Skidmore, a carrier of Stourbridge, having Ann Mansfield, a young woman of Birmingham, under his care, ravished and murdered her in the evening of December 10, 1774.
Justice, however, points out a way wherein the dead body, by conveying chirurgical knowledge, may be serviceable to the living.
Laws generally tend, either directly, or remotely, to the protection of property.
All wise legislators have endeavoured to proportion the punishment to the crime, but never to exceed it: a well conducted state holds forth a scale of punishments for transgressions of every dimension, beginning with the simple reprimand, and proceeding downwards even to death itself.
It will be granted, that the line of equity ought to be drawn with critical exactness.
If by fair trade, persuasion, or finesse, I get the property of another into my hands, even to the trifling value of a shilling, my effects ought to be responsible for that sum.
If I possess no effects, he certainly retains a right of punishing to that amount: for if we do not lay this line in the boundaries of strict justice, it will not lie upon any other ground. And if I am allowed fraud in one shilling, I am allowed it in a greater sum. How far punishment may be softened by concurring circumstances, is another question.
It therefore follows of course, that if my creditor has a right to recover his unfortunate property, those laws are the nearest to perfection, that will enable him to recover it with the most expedition, and the least expence and trouble to us both.
If the charge of recovery is likely to exceed the debt, he will be apt to desist, I to laugh at him, and to try my skill at a second enterprize.
Trade and credit cannot be well separated; they are as closely connected as the wax and the paper. The laws of credit, therefore, ought to rest upon a permanent foundation: neither is law necessary to restrain credit; for if, in a commercial state, it becomes detrimental by its over growth, it finds itself a remedy.
Much has been said, and perhaps more than has been thought, concerning the court before us. The loser is expected to complain, and his friends to give him a partial hearing; and though he breathes vengeance against his antagonist, it ends in a breath.
The looker-on can easily spy an error in the actor. If a fault is committed, we are glad it was done by another; besides, it is no new thing for the outs to complain of the ins. It will plead strongly in excuse, to say, the intention was right, if the judgment was wrong. If perfection is required, she does not reside upon earth.
But if these pleadings are not found a balance against prejudice, and a man suffers his wrath to kindle against a valuable institution, because perfection does not preside over it, let him peruse an old author, who asks, "What shall we think of the folly of that man, who throws away the apple, because it contains a core? despises the nut, for the shell? or casts the diamond into the sea, because it has a flaw?"
Decision is usually established upon oath, both in criminal courts, and in those at Westminster, through which the oath is seen to pass with free currency.
A judge is sometimes fond of sheltering himself behind an oath; it may be had at an easy rate. Each of the contending parties wishes to win his cause by an oath: but though oaths would be willingly taken, they ought to be sparingly given.--They may be considered what they generally are not, of the last importance.
We may observe, that two opponents are ready to swear directly contrary to each other; that if a man asserts a thing, he can do no less than swear it; and that, after all, an oath proves nothing.
The commissioners, therefore, wish rather to establish fact upon proof; but, if this is wanting, then upon circumstantial evidence; and if this support fails, they chuse to finish a quarrel by a moderate, though a random judgment.
Much honor is due to that judicial luminary, William Murray, Earl of Mansfield, who presides over the King's-Bench, for introducing equity into the courts of law, where she had long been a stranger.
The Court of Requests may justly be charged with weakness, and what court may not? It is inseparable from man.
A person cannot chuse his capacity, but he may chuse to be a rogue; one is an act of nature, the other of the will. The greater the temptation to go astray, the greater must be the resolution to conquer it.
One of the suitors presented a commissioner with a couple of chickens, as a powerful argument to strengthen a feeble case; but the commissioner returned his present, and the plaintiff lost his cause; and no wonder, he sent a chicken to plead it.
The defendant, by disobeying the orders of the court, falls under the power of the plaintiff, who can cause execution to issue against his goods, and reimburse himself; or, against his body, and confine him forty days, unless paid his demand.
There is no cause that can be brought before the Court of Requests, but may be brought before a higher court, and at a higher expence.
A cause passes through this court for seventeen-pence; and cannot well, by chicanery or neglect, amount to more than two shillings and nine-pence: So that ruin is not one of its imperfections.
Though law is said to produce quarrels among friends, yet the contending parties often go out of that court better friends than when they came in.
It has been objected, that the publicans give credit to the lower class, in expectation of relief from the court. But the debtor is equally apprized of the remedy, and often drinks deeper, in expectation of a mild sentence from the commissioners; besides, is not all credit founded on the laws of recovery?
It has also been urged, that while punishment pursues the debtor, for neglect of orders, his family falls upon the community.
But the community would not wish to put a bar between a man and his property--The precedent would be dangerous: Justice is no respector of persons. A culprit will soon procure a family, if they are able to plead his excuse: It would follow, that single men only would be obliged to be honest. She does not save the criminal, because he is an handsome man. If she did, beauty would increase in value; but honesty, seldom be its companion.
But can accusation lie against a fair tribunal of rectitude? The man does not exist that can quarrel with equity, and treat her as the offspring of fraud---The most amiable character in the creation, and the immediate representative of supreme excellence. She will be revered, even by the sons of plunder!
Many of the causes that pass this court, are of a disputable nature, and if not terminated there, would take a different turn.
From distant views of relief here, even sickness herself finds credit in the day of distress.
The use of the court is also favourable to trade, for, to oblige a man to pay his debts, is to oblige him to labour, which improves the manufactures.
Birmingham, in no period of her existence, has increased with such rapidity, in people, buildings and commerce, as since the erection of that court; so that depopulation is not one of its inconveniencies.
From a consideration of the prodigious intercourse subsisting in so vast a body of people, and the credit consequent thereon, it was wisely judged necessary to establish an easy, and expeditious method of ending dispute, and securing property.
The inhabitants of Birmingham, therefore, in 1752, procured an act for the recovery of debts under Forty Shillings; constituting seventy-two commissioners, three to be a quorum. They sit for the dispatch of business in the chamber over the Old Cross every Friday morning, and there usually appear before them between eighty and one hundred causes: Their determinations are final. Two clerks also, constituted by the act, attend the court to give judicial assistance; are always of the law, chosen alternately by the lord of the manor, and the commissioners, and to continue for life. Once in every two years, ten of the commissioners are ballotted out, and ten others of the inhabitants chosen in their stead.
LAMP ACT.
Order, is preserved by industry. In 1769 an act was obtained, and in 1773 an amendment of the act, for lighting and cleaning the streets of Birmingham, and for removing obstructions that were prejudicial to the health or convenience of the inhabitants.
These acts were committed to the care of about seventy-six irresolute commissioners, with farther powers of preventing encroachments upon public ground; for it was justly observed, that robbery was a work of darkness, therefore to introduce light would, in some measure, protect property. That in a town like Birmingham, full of commerce and inhabitants, where necessity leads to continual action, no part of the twenty four hours ought to be dark. That, to avoid darkness, is sometimes to avoid insult; and that by the light of 700 lamps, many unfortunate accidents would be prevented.
It was also observed, that in a course of time, the buildings in some of the ancient streets had encroached upon the path, four or five feet on each side; which caused an irregular line, and made those streets eight or ten feet narrower, that are now used by 50,000 people, than they were, when used only by a tenth part of that number; and, that their confined width rendered the passage dangerous to children, women, and feeble age, particularly on the market day and Saturday evening.
That if former encroachments could not be recovered, future ought to be prevented.
And farther, that necessity pleads for a wider street now, than heretofore, not only because the inhabitants, being more numerous, require more room, but the buildings being more elevated, obstruct the light, the sun, and the air, which obstructions tend to sickness and inconveniency.
Narrow streets with modern buildings are generally dirty, for want of these natural helps; as Digbeth, St. Martin's-lane, Swan-alley, Carr's-lane, &c. The narrower the street, the less it can be influenced by the sun and the wind, consequently, the more the dirt will abound; and by experimental observations upon stagnate water in the street, it is found extremely prejudicial to health. And also, the larger the number of people, the more necessity to watch over their interest with a guardian eye.
It may farther be remarked, that an act of parliament ought to distribute justice with an impartial hand, in which case, content and obedience may reasonably be expected. But the acts before us carry a manifest partiality, one man claims a right to an encroachment into the street, of three or four feet, whilst another is restricted to twelve inches.
This inactive body of seventy-six, who wisely argue against the annihilation of one evil, because another will remain; had also powers to borrow a thousand pounds, to purchase and remove some obstructive buildings; and to defray the expence by a rate on the inhabitants, which, after deducting about one hundred and twenty pounds per ann. for deficiencies, amounted in
1774, to 912l.
1775, -- 902l.
1776, -- 947l.
1777, -- 965l.
1778, -- 1,012l.
1779, -- 1,022l.
1780, -- 1,021l.
Though the town was averse to the measure, as an innovation, they quickly saw its utility, and seemed to wish a more vigorous exertion of the commissioners; but numbers sometimes procrastinate design. If it is difficult to find five men of one mind, it is more difficult to find a superior number. That business which would run currently through the hands of five, stagnates at fifteen, the number required.
It is curious to observe a body of commissioners, every one of whom conducts his own private affairs with propriety and success, attack a question by the hour, which is as plain as the simplest proposition in the mathematicks, when not being able to reduce it, and their ammunition spent, leave the matter undetermined, and retreat in silence.
In works of manual operation a large number may be necessary, but in works of direction a small one facilitates dispatch.
Birmingham, a capacious field, by long neglect is over-grown with encroaching weeds. The gentle commissioners, appointed to reduce them, behold it an arduous work, are divided in opinion, and some withdraw the hand from the plough; certainly, the harvest is great, and the labourers are few. The manorial powers, which alone could preserve order, have slept for ages. Regularity has been long extinct. The desire of trespass is so prevalent, that I have been tempted to question; if it were not for the powers of the lamp act, feeble as they are, whether the many-headed-public, ever watchful of prey, would not in another century, devour whole streets, and totally prevent the passenger. Thus a supine jurisdiction abounds with street-robbers.
There are cases where the line of the street should inviolably be preserved, as in a common range of houses; therefore all projections above a given dimension infringe this rule.
There are other cases where taste would direct this line to be broken, as in buildings of singular size and construction, which should be viewed in recess. Those of a public nature generally come under this description, as the free-school, and the hotel, which ought to have fallen two or three yards back. What pity, that so noble an edifice as the theatre in New-street, should lose any of its beauty, by the prominence of its situation!
As Birmingham abounds with new streets, that were once private property, it is a question often discussed, In what point of time the land appropriated for such streets, ceases to be private? But as this question was never determined, and as it naturally rises before me, and is of importance, suffer me to examine it.
When building leases are granted, if the road be narrow, as was lately the case at the West end of New-street, the proprietor engages to give a certain portion of land to widen it. From that moment, therefore, it falls to the lot of the public, and is under the controul of the commissioners, as guardians of public property. I allow, if within memory, the grantor and the lessees should agree to cancel the leases, which is just as likely to happen as the powers of attraction to cease, and the moon to descend from the heavens; in this case, the land reverts again to its original proprietor.
Though the streets of Birmingham have for many ages been exposed to the hand of the encroacher, yet, by a little care, and less expence, they might in about one century be reduced to a considerable degree of use and beauty. In what light then shall we be viewed by the future eye, if we neglect the interest of posterity?
RELIGION AND POLITICS.
Although these two threads, like the warp and the woof, are very distinct things; yet, like them, they are usually woven together. Each possesses a strength of its own, but when united, have often become extremely powerful, as in the case of Henry the Third and the clergy. This union, at times, subsisted from a very early date.
Power is the idol of man; we not only wish to acquire it, but also to increase and preserve it. If the magistrate has been too weak to execute his designs, he has backed his schemes with the aid of the church; this occurred with King Stephen and the Bishops.
Likewise, if a churchman finds his power ascendant in the human mind, he still wishes an addition to that power, by uniting another. Thus the Bishop of Rome, being master of the spiritual chair, stept also into the temporal.
Sometimes the ecclesiastical and civil governors appear in malign aspect, or in modern phrase, like a quarrel between the squire and the rector, which is seldom detrimental to the people. This was the case with Henry the Eighth and the church.
The curses of a priest hath sometimes brought a people into obedience to the King, when he was not able to bring them himself. One could not refrain from smiling, to hear a Bishop curse the people for obeying their Sovereign, and in a few months after, curse them again if they did not; which happened in the reign of King John. But, happy for the world, that these retail dealers in the wrath of heaven are become extinct, and the market is over.
Birmingham, in those remote periods of time, does not seem to have attended so much to religious and political dispute, as to the course music of her hammer. Peace seems to have been her characteristic--She paid obedience to that Prince had the good fortune to possess the throne, and regularly paid divine honours in St. Martin's, because there was no other church. Thus, through the long ages of Saxon, Danish, and Norman government, we hear of no noise but that of the anvil, till the reign of Henry the Third, when her Lord joined the Barons against the Crown, and drew after him some of his mechanics, to exercise the very arms they had been taught to make; and where, at the battle of Evesham, he staked his life and his fortune, and lost both.
Things quickly returning into their former channel, she stood a silent spectator during that dreadful contest between the two roses, pursuing the tenor of still life till the civil wars of Charles I. when she took part with the Parliament, some of whose troops were stationed here, particularly at the Garrison and Camp-hill; the names of both originating in that circumstance.
Prince Rupert, as hinted before, approaching Birmingham in 1643 with a superior power, forced the lines, and as a punishment set fire to the town. His vengeance burned fiercely in Bull-street, and the affrighted inhabitants quenched the flames with a heavy fine.
In 1660, she joined the wish of the kingdom, in the restoration of the Stuart family. About this time, many of the curious manufactures began to blossom in this prosperous garden of the arts.
In 1688, when the nation chose to expel a race of Kings, though replete with good nature, because they had forgot the limits of justice ; our peaceable sons of art, wisely considering, that oppression and commerce, like oil and water, could never unite, smiled with the rest of the kingdom at the landing of the Prince of Orange, and exerted their little assistance towards effecting the Revolution, notwithstanding the lessons of divine right had been taught near ninety years.
In the reign of Queen Anne, when that flaming luminary, Dr. Sacheverel, set half the kingdom in blaze, the inhabitants of this region of industry caught the spark of the day, and grew warm for the church--They had always been inured to fire, but now we behold them between two.
As the doctor rode in triumph through the streets of Birmingham, this flimsy idol of party snuffed up the incense of the populace, but the more sensible with held their homage; and when he preached at Sutton Coldfield, where he had family connections, the people of Birmingham crowded in multitudes round his pulpit. But it does not appear that he taught his hearers to build up Zion, but perhaps to pull her down; for they immediately went and gutted a meeting-house.
It is easy to point out a time when it was dangerous to have been of the established church, and I have here pointed out one, when it was dangerous to profess any other.
We are apt to think the zeal of our fathers died with them, for I have frequently beheld with pleasure, the churchman, the presbyterian, and the quaker uniting their efforts, like brethren, to carry on a work of utility. The bigot of the last age casts a malicious sneer upon the religion of another, but the man of this passes a joke upon his own.
A sameness in religious sentiment is no more to be expected, than a sameness of face. If the human judgment varies in almost every subject of plain knowledge, how can it be fixed in this, composed of mystery?
As the true religion is ever that which a man professes himself, it is necessary to enquire, What means, he that is right may use, to convert him that is wrong?
As the whole generations of faggot and torture, are extinct in this age of light, there seems only to remain fair arguments founded in reason, and these can only be brought as evidences upon the trial: The culprit himself, by indefeasible right divine, will preside as the judge. Upon a close enquiry it will be found, that his sentiments are as much his private property, as the coat that covers him, or the life which that coat incloses.
Is there not as much reason to punish my neighbour for differing in opinion from me, as to punish me, because I differ from him? Or, is there any to punish either?
If a man's sentiments and practice in religious matters, appear even absurd, provided society is not injured, what right hath the magistrate to interfere?
The task is as easy to make the stream run upwards, as to form a nation of one mind. We may pronounce with confidence, an age of bigotry is no age of philosophy.
The gentle hand of Brunswick, had swayed the British sceptre near half a century, ere all the sons of science in this meridian, were compleatly reconciled to this favourite line.
But unanimity, with benign aspect, seems now the predominant star of the zenith: A friendly intercourse succeeds suspicion. The difference of sentiment, that once created jealousy, now excites a smile; and the narrow views of our forefathers are prudently expanded.
PLACES OF WORSHIP.
In a town like Birmingham, unfettered with charteral laws; which gives access to the stranger of every denomination, for he here finds a freedom by birthright; and where the principles of toleration are well understood, it is no wonder we find various modes of worship. The wonder consists in finding such agreement, in such variety.
We have fourteen places for religious exercise, six of the established church, three dissenting meeting houses, a quakers, baptist, methodist, roman catholic, and jewish. Two of these only are churches, of which elsewhere.
SAINT JOHN'S CHAPEL,
DERITEND.
This, tho' joining to the parish of Birmingham, is a chapel of ease belonging to Aston, two miles distant. Founded in the fifth of Richard the Second, 1382.
This chapel does not, like others in Birmingham, seem to have been erected first, and the houses brought round it: It appears, by its extreme circumscribed latitude, to have been founded upon the scite of other buildings, which were purchased, or rather given, by Sir John de Birmingham, Lord of Deritend, and situated upon the boundaries of the manor, perhaps to accommodate in some measure the people of Digbeth; because the church in Birmingham must, for many-ages, have been too small for the inhabitants.
Time seems to have worn out that building of 1382; in the windows of which were the arms of Lord Dudley, and Dudley empaling Barckley, both knights of the garter, descended from the Somery's, Barons of Dudley-castle: Also a whole figure of Walter Arden, Esq; of ancient family, often mentioned, Lord of Bordesley.
The present building was erected in 1735, and the steeple in 1762. In 1777 eight of the most musical bells, together with a clock, entered the steeple. The present chaplain, the Rev. Thomas Cox--Income 80l.
SAINT BARTHOLOMEW'S.
Built in 1749, on the east side of the town, will accommodate about 800 hearers; is neat and elegant. The land was the gift of John Jennens, Esq; of Copsal, in the county of Leicester, possessor of a considerable estate in and near Birmingham.
By the solicitation of Mrs. Weaman, Mrs. Jennens gave 1000l. and the remainder was raised by contribution to accomplish the building.
Wherever a chapel is erected, the houses immediately, as if touched by the wand of magic, spring into existence. Here is a spacious area for interment, amply furnished by death. The infant steeple, if it will bear the name, is very small but beautiful.
The chancel hath this singular difference from others--that it veres towards the North. Whether the projector committed an error, I leave to the critics.
It was the general practice of the Pagan church to fix their altar, upon which they sacrificed, in the East, towards the rising sun, the object of worship.
The Christian church, in the time of the Romans, immediately succeeded the Pagan, and scrupulously adopted the same method; which has been strictly adhered to.
By what obligation the Christian is bound to follow the Pagan, or wherein a church would be injured by being directed to any of the thirty-two points in the compass, is doubtful. Certain it is, if the chancel of Bartholomew's had tended due East, the eye would have been exceedingly hurt, and the builder would have raised an object of ridicule for ages. The ground will admit of no situation but that in which the church now stands. But the inconsiderate architect of Deritend chapel, anxious to catch the Eastern point, lost the line of the street: we may therefore justly pronounce, be sacrificed to the East. Other enormities also, of little moment, have issued from the same fountain.
The altar piece was the gift of Basil Earl of Denbigh; and the communion plate, consisting of 182 ounces, that of Mary Carless. Income 100l.--Rev. William Jabbitt, chaplain.
SAINT MARY's.
Though the houses for divine worship were multiplied in Birmingham, yet the inhabitants increased in a greater proportion; so that in 1772 an act was obtained for two additional chapels.
St. Mary's, therefore, was erected in 1774, in the octagon form, not overcharged with light nor strength; in an airy situation and taste, but shews too little steeple, and too much roof. If a light balustrade was raised over the parapet, with an urn in the centre of the roof, the eye of the observer would be relieved.
The clock was seldom seen to go right, but the wonder ceases if there are NO WORKS within.
The land was the gift of Mary Weaman, in whom is the presentation, who inducted the Rev. John Riland. Annual income about 200l.
SAINT PAUL's.
The act was procured for this chapel at the same time as for that of St. Mary's; but it was not erected till 1779, upon a spot of ground given by Charles Colmore, Esq; upon the declivity of a hill, not altogether suitable for the elegant building it sustains, which is of stone--plain beauty unites with strength.
This roof, like that of St. Mary's, appears also too full. The steeple intended for this useful edifice, will do honour to the modern stile of architecture, whenever money can be procured to erect it; which at present is only delineated upon paper.
Chaplain, the Rev. William Toy Young.--Income nearly as St. Mary's.
OLD MEETING.
After the extinction of the Stuart race, who bore an invincible hatred to presbyterianism, the dissenters from the establishment procured a licence for a meeting at the bottom of Digbeth, which yet bears the name of Meeting-house-yard. Here the rigid sons of worship paid a weekly attendance. The place is now a work-shop: The sound of the pulpit is changed into that of the bellows: Instead of an impression upon the heart, it is now stamped upon the button. The visitants used to appear in a variety of colours, but now always in black.
Another was erected in the reign of King William, now denominated The Old Meeting, and from whence the street in which it stands derives a name. This is large, and much attended.
Pastor, the Rev. Radcliff Scoldfield.
NEW MEETING.
Erected in the year 1730, at which time that in Digbeth went into disuse. This is in a stile of elegance, and has few equals. The Rev. Samuel Blyth, and the Rev. William Hawkes preside over it.
In December 1780, Mr. Hawkes declining the pastoral care, the congregation judiciously turned their thoughts towards the celebrated Doctor Priestley, F.R.S. one of the first philosophers of the age; whose merit seems obvious to every eye but his own.
CARR's LANE MEETING.
A scion of the Old Meeting, transplanted in 1748--The building cost about 700l. This society hath been favoured with two donations; one the interest of 800l. by the will of John England, in 1771: The other Scott's Trust, mentioned in another part.
This residence of divine light is totally eclipsed, by being surrounded with about forty families of paupers, crouded almost within the compass of a giant's span, which amply furnish the congregation with noise, smoak, dirt and dispute. If the place itself is the road to heaven, the stranger would imagine, that the road to the place led to something worse: The words, Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, are here literally verified.--Pastor, the Rev. John Punfield.
BAPTIST MEETING.
Founded in Cannon-street, 1738. This hill of Zion is also hid from the public eye, but situated in a purer air.--The minister was the late Rev. James Turner.
Some trifling differences arising in the congregation, to which the human mind is everlastingly prone, caused discontent: Individuals began to sting each other, which in 1745, produced a swarm.
The destitute wanderers therefore, erected for themselves a small cell in Freeman-street, where they hived in expectation of harmony. Over this little society of separatists presided a journeyman woolcomber: What elevation he bore in the comb-shop, during six days of the week, history is silent; but having the good fortune to procure a black coat and a white wig, he figured on the seventh with parsonic elegance.
Whether he fed his people best, or they him, is uncertain; but whether they starved one another, is not. Disgust, which ever waits upon disappointment, appeared among them.
Though the preacher was certainly warmed in the shop, with a live coal from the altar; yet unfortunately, Sunday was the only day in which his fire was extinguished; then the priest and the people hit the taste of the day, and slumbered together; a priviledge never granted by a reader to an author. Thus the boasted liberty of the press submits to that of the pulpit.
This exalted shepherd dwelt upon the words of Paul, He that preaches the gospel, ought to subsist by the gospel; and they did not forget a portion in John, Feed my sheep. The word, he well knew, promised both wine and oil, but he was obliged to be satisfied with the latter.
Although the teacher might possess some shining qualities at the combe-pot, he did not possess that of protecting his flock, who in 1752, silently retreated to their original fold in Cannon-street; and the place was soon after converted into a dwelling, No. 16, when for the first time it produced profit.
The growing numbers of this prosperous society induced them, in 1780, to enlarge the place of worship, at the expence of about 800l. in which is observable some beauty, but more conveniency.
QUAKER's MEETING
In Bull-street. A large convenient place, and notwithstanding the plainness of the profession rather elegant. The congregation is very flourishing, rich, and peaceable. Chandler tells us, to the everlasting honour of the Quakers, that they are the only christian sect who have never exercised the cruel weapon of persecution.
METHODIST's MEETING.
We learn from ecclesiastical history, that the people in high life are always followers in religion. Though they are the best leaders in political and social concerns, yet all religions seem to originate from the lowest class. Every religion is first obstructed by violence, passes through the insults of an age, then rests in peace, and often takes up the rod against another.
The first preachers of the christian faith, the short-sighted apostles, were men of the meanest occupations, and their church, a wretched room in a miserable tenement. The superb buildings of St. Peter's in Rome, and St. Paul's in London, used by their followers, were not within the reach of their penetration. They were also totally ignorant of tripple crowns, red hats, mitres, crosiers, robes, and rochets, well known to their successors.
The religion of a private room, soon became the religion of a country: the church acquired affluence, for all churches hate poverty; and this humble church, disturbed for ages, became the church of Rome, the disturber of Europe.
John Wickliff, in 1377, began to renew her disturbance: this able theologist planted our present national church, which underwent severe persecutions, from its mother church at Rome; but, rising superior to the rod, and advancing to maturity, she became the mother of a numerous offspring, which she afterwards persecuted herself; and this offspring, like their mother, were much inclined to persecution.
Puritanism, her first born, groaned under the pressure of her hand. The Baptists, founded by a taylor, followed, and were buffeted by both.--Independency appeared, ponderous as an elephant, and trampled upon all three.
John Fox, a composition of the oddest matter, and of the meanest original, formed a numerous band of disciples, who suffered the insults of an age, but have carried the arts of prudence to the highest pitch.
The Muglitonians, the Prophets, the Superlapsarians, &c. like untimely births, just saw the light and disappeared.
The Moravians, under the influence of Zinzendorf, rose about 1740, but are not in a flourishing state; their circumscribed rules, like those of the cloister, being too much shackled to thrive in a land of freedom.
James Sandiman introduced a religion, about 1750, but, though eclipsed himself by poverty, he taught his preachers to shine; for he allowed them to grace the pulpit with ruffles, lace, and a cueque. Birmingham cannot produce one professor of the two last churches.
The christian religion has branched into more sectaries in the last two hundred years, than in the fifteen hundred before--the reason is obvious. During the tedious reign of the Romish priest, before the introduction of letters, knowledge was small, and he wished to confine that knowledge to himself: he substituted mystery for science, and led the people blindfold. But the printing-press, though dark in itself, and surrounded with yet darker materials, diffused a ray of light through the world, which enabled every man to read, think, and judge for himself; hence diversity of opinion, and the absurdity of reducing a nation to one faith, vainly attempted by Henry VIII.
In those distant ages, the priest had great influence, with little knowledge; but in these, great knowledge, with little influence. He was then revered according to his authority; but now, according to his merit: he shone in a borrowed, but now in a real lustre: then he was less deserving; but now less esteemed. The humble christian, in the strictest sense, worked out his salvation with fear and trembling, and with tools furnished by the priest: he built upon his opinions, but now he lays a foundation for his own.
Though we acknowledge the scriptures our guide, we take the liberty to guide them; we torture them to our own sentiments. Though we allow their equal weight, we suffer one portion to weigh down another. If we attend to twenty disputants, not one of them will quote a text which militates against his sentiments.
The artillery of vengeance was pointed at Methodism for thirty years; but, fixed as a rock, it could never be beaten down, and its professors now enjoy their sentiments in quiet.
After the institution of this sect by George Whitfield, in 1738, they were first covered by the heavens, equally exposed to the rain and the rabble, and afterwards they occupied, for many years, a place in Steelhouse-lane, where the wags of the age observed, "they were eat out by the bugs."--They therefore procured a cast off theatre in Moor-street, where they continued to exhibit till 1782; when, quitting the stage, they erected a superb meeting-house, in Cherry-street, at the expence of 1200l. This was opened, July 7, by John Wesley, the chief priest, whose extensive knowledge, and unblemished manners, give us a tolerable picture of apostolic purity; who believes, as if he were to be saved by faith; and who labours, as if he were to be saved by works.
Thus our composite order of religion, an assemblage of the Episcopalian, the Presbyterian, the Independent, and the Baptist; fled from the buffetings of the vulgar, and now take peaceable shelter from the dews of heaven.
ROMISH CHAPEL.
I have already remarked, there is nothing which continues in the same state: the code of manners, habits of thinking, and of expression, modes of living, articles of learning; the ways of acquiring wealth, or knowledge; our dress, diet, recreations, &c. change in every age.
But why is there a change in religion? eternal truth, once fixed, is everlastingly the same. Religion is purity, which, one would think, admits of no change; if it changes, we should doubt whether it is religion. But a little attention to facts will inform us, there is nothing more changable: nor need we wonder, because, man himself being changable, every thing committed to his care will change with him. We may plead his excuse, by observing, his sight is defective: he may be deceived by viewing an object in one light, or attitude, to-day, and another, to-morrow. This propensity to change might lead us to suspect the authenticity of our own sentiments.
The apostles certainly formed the church of Rome; but she, having undergone the variations of seventeen hundred years, St. Peter himself, should he return to the earth, could not discover one linament in her aspect; but would be apt to reject her as a changling.
The church of England has not only undergone a change since the reformation, but wishes a greater.
We should suppose the puritan of 1583, and the dissenter of 1783, were the same: but although substance and shadow exactly resemble each other, no two things differ more.
When pride sends a man in quest of a religion, if he does not discover something new, he might as well stay at home: nothing near the present standard can take. Two requisites are necessary to found a religion, capacity, and singularity: no fool ever succeeded. If his talents are not above mediocrity, he will not be able to draw the crowd; and if his doctrines are not singular, the crowd will not be drawn--novelty pleases.
Having collected, and brightened up a set of doctrines, wide of every other church, he fixes at a distance from all. But time, and unavoidable intercourse with the world, promote a nearer approximation; and, mixing with men, we act like men. Thus the Quaker under George III. shews but little of the Quaker under George Fox.
In two congregations of the same profession, as in two twins of the same family, though there is a striking likeness, the curious observer will trace a considerable difference.
In a religion, as well as a man, there is a time to be born, and a time to die. They both vary in aspect, according to the length of their existence, carry the marks of decline, and sink into obscurity.
We are well informed how much the Romish religion has declined in this country: three hundred years ago Birmingham did not produce one person of another persuasion; but now, out of 50,000 people, we have not 300 of this.
The Roman Catholics formerly enjoyed a place for religious worship near St. Bartholomew's-chapel, still called Masshouse-lane; but the rude hands of irreligion destroyed it. There is now none nearer than Edgbaston, two miles distant; yet the congregation is chiefly supplied from Birmingham.
If the Roman Catholics are not so powerful as in the sixteenth century, they seem as quiet, and as little addicted to knowledge; perhaps they have not yet learned to see through any eyes but those of the priest.--There appears, however, as much devotion in their public worship, as among any denomination of christians.
JEWISH SYNAGOGUE.
We have also among us a remnant of Israel. A people who, when masters of their own country, were scarcely ever known to travel, and who are now seldom employed in any thing else. But, though they are ever moving, they are ever at home: who once lived the favourites of heaven, and fed upon the cream of the earth; but now are little regarded by either: whose society is entirely confined to themselves, except in the commercial line.
In the Synagogue, situated in the Froggery, they still preserve the faint resemblence of the ancient worship. Their whole apparatus being no more than the drooping ensigns of poverty. The place is rather small, but tolerably filled; where there appears less decorum than in the christian churches. The proverbial expression "as rich as a jew," is not altogether verified in Birmingham, but perhaps, time is transfering it to the Quakers.
It is rather singular, that the honesty of a jew, is seldom pleaded but by the jew himself.
THEATRES.
The practice of the Theatre is of great antiquity. We find it in great repute among the Greeks; we also find, the more a nation is civilized, the more they have supported the stage. It seems designed for two purposes, improvement and entertainment.
There are certain exuberances that naturally grow in religion, government, and private life which may with propriety be attacked by the poet and the comedian, but which can scarcely be reduced by any other power. While the stage therefore keeps this great end in view, it answers a valuable purpose to the community. The poet should use his pen to reform, not to indulge a corrupt age, as was the case in the days of Charles the Second, when indecency was brought on to raise the laugh.
Perhaps there is no period of time in which the stage was less polluted, owing to the inimitable Garrick, than the present: notwithstanding there is yet room for improvement.
Tragedy is to melt the heart, by exhibiting the unfortunate; satiate revenge, by punishing the unjust tyrant: To discard vice, and to keep undue passions within bounds.
Comedy holds up folly in a ridiculous light: Whatever conduct or character is found in the regions of absurdity, furnishes proper materials for the stage; and out of these, the pen of a master will draw many useful lessons.
The pulpit and the stage have nearly the same use, but not in the same line--That of improving the man.
The English stage opened about the conquest, and was wholly confined to religion; in whose service it continued, with very little intermission, to the extinction of the Plantagenets. The play-houses were the churches, the principal actors the priests, and the performances taken from scripture; such as the Fall of Man, the Story of Joseph, Sampson, Histories of the Saints, the Sufferings of Christ, Resurrection, Day of Judgment, &c.
Theatrical exhibition in Birmingham, is rather of a modern date. As far as memory can penetrate, the stroller occupied, occasionally, a shed of boards in the fields, now Temple-street: Here he acted the part of Distress, in a double capacity. The situation was afterwards changed, but not the eminence, and the Hinkleys dignified the performers booth!
In about 1730, the amusements of the stage rose in a superior stile of elegance, and entered something like a stable in Castle-street. Here the comedian strutted in painted rags, ornamented with tinsel: The audience raised a noisy laugh, half real and half forced, at three-pence a head.
In about 1740, a theatre was erected in Moor-street, which rather gave a spring to the amusement; in the day time the comedian beat up for volunteers for the night, delivered his bills of fare, and roared out an encomium on the excellence of the entertainment, which had not always the desired effect.
In 1751, a company arrived, which anounced themselves, "His Majesty's servants, from the theatres-royal in London; and hoped the public would excuse the ceremony of the drum, as beneath the dignity of a London company." The novelty had a surprising effect; the performers had merit; the house was continually crouded; the general conversation turned upon theatrical exhibition, and the town was converted into one vast theatre.
In 1752 it was found necessary to erect a larger theatre, that in King Street, and we multiplied into two London companies.
The pulpits took the alarm, and in turn, roared after their customers: But the pious teachers forgot it was only the fervour of a day, which would cool of itself; that the fiercer the fire burns, the sooner it will burn out.
This declaration of war, fortunately happening at the latter end of summer, the campaign was over, and the company retreated into winter quarters, without hostilities.
It was afterwards found, that two theatres were more than the town chose to support; therefore that in Moor-street was set for a methodist meeting, where, it was said, though it changed its audience, it kept its primeval use, continuing the theatre of farce.
In 1774, the theatre in King-street was enlarged, beautified, and made more convenient; so that it hath very few equals.
About the same time that in New-street was erected upon a suitable spot, an extensive plan, and richly ornamented with paintings and scenery.--Expence seems the least object in consideration.
An additional and superb portico, was erected in 1780, which perhaps may cause it to be pronounced, "One of the first theatres in Europe."
Two busts, in relief, of excellent workmanship, are elevated over the attic windows; one is the father, and the other the refiner of the British, stage--Shakespear and Garrick.
Also two figures eight feet high, are said to be under the chissel, one of Thalia, and the other of Melpomene, the comic and the tragic muses; the value one hundred and sixty guineas. Places are reserved for their reception, to augment the beauty of the front, and shew the taste of the age.
AMUSEMENTS.
Man seems formed for variety, whether we view him in a rational or an animal light. A sameness of temper, habit, diet, pursuit, or pleasure, is no part of his character. The different ages of his life, also produce different sentiments; that which gives us the highest relish in one period, is totally flat in another. The rattle that pleases at three, would be cast into the fire at threescore: The same hand that empties the purse at twenty, would fill it at fifty: In age, he bends his knee to the same religion, which he laughed at in youth: The prayer book, that holds the attention of seventy, holds the lottery pictures of seven: And the amorous tale that awakes the ideas of twenty five, lulls old age to sleep.
Not only life is productive of change, but also every day in it. If a man would take a minute survey of his thoughts and employments, for only twenty-four hours, he would be astonished at their infinite variety.
Though industry be the ruling passion of this ingenious race, yet relaxation must follow, as one period to another. Society is therefore justly esteemed an everlasting fund of amusement, which is found at the tavern, in the winter evening: Intoxication is seldom met with, except in the inferior ranks, where it is visible in both sexes.
A regular concert is established, where the music is allowed to excel. This harmonious science, like other productions of taste, though it be not the general study of the inhabitants, hath made an amazing progress during the last thirty years.
In 1777, a coffee-house was opened at the East end of New-street, the first in this department; which, drawing into its vortex the transactions of Europe, finds employment for the politician.
Assemblies are held weekly, which give room for beauty to figure at cards, in conversation, and in the dance.
The pleasures of the field claim their votaries, but, in a populous country, like that of Birmingham, plenty of game is not to be expected; for want of wild fowl, therefore, the shooter has been sometimes known to attack the tame.
However, the farmer need not be under any great concern for his property; the sportsman seldom does any thing with his arms--but--carry them. We are more famous for making, than using the gun.
A pack of hounds have sometimes been kept by subscription, termed, The Birmingham Hunt; but, as the sound of the dogs and the anvil never harmonised together, they have been long in disuse: the jocund tribe, therefore, having no scent of their own, fall into that of the neighbouring gentry, many of whom support a pack.
The man of reflection finds amusement in domestic resources; and, in his own mind, if unoppressed. Here the treasures collected from men, books, and observation, are laid up for many years, from which he draws pleasure, without diminishing the flock. The universal riches of nature and of art; the part, the present, and a glympse of the future, lie open to his eye.
Two obstructions only bound his ideas, time and space. He steps from planet to planet, and if he cannot enter immensity, he can verge upon its borders.
I pity the man, who through poverty, cannot find warmth by his own fire-side; but I pity him more, who, through poverty of thought, cannot find happiness.
For the entertainment of summer, exclusive of the two theatres, there are five greens, where the gentlemen are amused with bowls, and the ladies with tea.
There are also great variety of public gardens, suited to every class of people, or which Duddeston, the ancient seat of the Holte family, claims the pre-eminence.
The fishing-rod, that instrument which destroys in peace, must find a place: other animals are followed with fire and tumult, but the fishes are entrapped with deceit. Of all the sportsmen, we charge the angler alone with killing in cold blood.
Just as a pursuit abounds with pleasure, so will it abound with votaries. The pleasure of angling depends on the success of the line: this art is but little practised here, and less known. Our rivers are small, and thinly stored; our pools are guarded as private property: the Birmingham spirit is rather too active for the sleepy amusement of fishing.
Patience seems the highest accomplishment of an angler. We behold him, fixed as a statue, on the bank; his head inclining towards the river, his attention upon the water, his eye upon the float; he often draws, and draws only his hook! But although he gets no bite, it may fairly be said he is bit: of the two, the fish display the most cunning.--He, surprized that he has caught nothing, and I, that he has kept his rod and his patience.
Party excursion is held in considerable esteem, in which are included Enville, the seat of Lord Stamford; Hagley, that of the late Lord Lyttelton; and the Leasowes, the property of the late Wm. Shenstone, Esq. We will omit the journey to London, a tour which some of us have made all our lives without seeing it.
Cards and the visit are linked together, nor is the billiard table totally forsaken. One man amuses himself in amassing a fortune, and another in dissolving one.
About thirty-six of the inhabitants keep carriages for their own private use; and near fifty have country houses. The relaxations of the humbler class, are fives, quoits, skittles, and ale.
Health and amusement are found in the prodigious number of private gardens scattered round Birmingham, from which we often behold the father returning with a cabbage, and the daughter with a nosegay.
HOTEL.
The spot where our great-grandmothers smiled in the lively dance, when they possessed the flower of beauty in the spring of life, is lost in forgetfulness. The floor that trembled under that foot which was covered with a leather shoe tied with a silken string, and which supported a stocking of dark blue worsted, not of the finest texture, is now buried in oblivion.
In 1750 we had two assembly rooms; one at No. 11. in the Square, the other No. 85. in Bull-street. This last was not much in use afterwards. That in the Square continued in repute till in the course of that evening which happened in October 1765, when Edward Duke of York had the honour of leading up the dance, and the ladies of Birmingham enjoyed that of the Duke's hand, He remarked, "That a town of such magnitude as Birmingham, and adorned with so much beauty, deserved a superior accomodation:--That the room itself was mean, but the entrance still meaner."
Truth is ever the same, whether it comes from a prince or a peasant; but its effects are not. Whether some secret charm attended the Duke's expression, that blasted the room, is uncertain, but it never after held its former eminence.
In 1772 a building was erected by subscription, upon the Tontine principle, at the head of Temple row, and was dignified with the French name of Hotel: From a handsome, entrance the ladies are now led through a spacious saloon, at the extremity of which the eye is struck with a grand flight of steps, opening into an assembly-room, which would not disgrace even the royal presence of the Duke's brother.
The pile itself is large, plain, and elegant, but standing in the same line with the other buildings, which before were really genteel, eclipses them by its superiority: Whereas, if the Hotel had fallen a few feet back, it would, by breaking the line, have preserved the beauty of the row, without losing its own.
WAKES.
This ancient custom was left us by the Saxons. Time, that makes alteration only in other customs, has totally inverted this.
When a church was erected, it was immediately called after a saint, put under his protection, and the day belonging to that saint kept in the church as an high festival. In the evening preceding the day, the inhabitants, with lights, approached the church, and kept a continual devotion during the whole night; hence the name wake: After which they entered into festivity.
But now the devotional part is forgot, the church is deserted, and the festivity turned into riot, drunkenness, and mischief.
Without searching into the mouldy records of time, for evidence to support our assertion, we may safely pronounce the wake the lowest of all low amusements, and compleatly suited to the lowest of tempers.
Wakes have been deemed a public concern, and legislature, more than once, been obliged to interpose for the sake of that order which private conduct could never boast.
In the reign of Henry the Sixth, every consideration, whether of a public or a private nature, gave way to the wake: The harvest in particular was neglected. An order therefore issued, confining the wakes to the first Sunday in October, consequently the whole nation run mad at once.
Wakes in Birmingham are not ancient: Why St. Martin's, then the only church, was neglected, is uncertain.
Although we have no wakes for the town, there are three kept in its borders, called Deritend, Chapel, and Bell wakes. The two first are in the spring of existence, the last in the falling leaf of autumn.
Deritend wake probably took its rise at the erection of her chapel, in 1382.
Chapel wake, in 1750, from St. Bartholomew's chapel, is held in the meridian of Coleshill-street; was hatched and fostered by the publicans, for the benefit of the spiggot.
Amongst other important amusements, was that of bull-baiting, till the year 1773, when the commissioners of lamps, in the amendment of their act, wisely broke the chain, and procured a reprieve for the unfortunate animal.
Another was the horse-race, 'till a few years ago a person being killed, rather slackened the entertainment. What singular genius introduced the horse-race into a crowded street, I am yet to learn.
In the evening the passenger cannot proceed without danger; in the morning, he may discover which houses are public, without other intelligence than the copious streams that have issued from the wall. The blind may also distinguish the same thing, by the strong scent of the tap.
Bell wake is the junior by one year, originating from the same cause, in 1751, in consequence of ten bells being hung up in St Philip's steeple.--'Till within these few years, we were at this wake struck with a singular exhibition, that of a number of boys running a race through the streets naked. Some of the inhabitants, seeing so fair a mark for chastisement, applied the rod with success, put a period to the sport, and obliged the young runners to run under cover.
CLUBS.
It may be expected, from the title of this chapter, that I shall introduce a set of ruffians armed with missive weapons; or, having named a trump, a set of gamblers shuffling and dealing out the cards: But whatever veneration I may entertain for these two fag ends of our species, I shall certainly introduce a class of people, which, though of the lower orders, are preferable to both.
Social compact is a distinguishing mark of civilization: The whole British empire may be justly considered as one grand alliance, united for public and private interest, and this vast body of people are subdivided into an infinity of smaller fraternities, for individual benefit.
Perhaps there are hundreds of these societies in Birmingham under the name of clubs; some of them boast the antiquity of a century, and by prudent direction have acquired a capital, at accumulating interest. Thousands of the inhabitants are thus connected, nay, to be otherwise is rather unfashionable, and some are people of sentiment and property.
A variety of purposes are intended by these laudable institutions, but the principal one is that of supporting the sick.
Each society is governed by a code of laws of its own making, which have at least the honour of resembling those of legislature, for words without sense are found in both, and we sometimes stumble upon contradiction.
The poor's-rates, enormous as they appear, are softened by these brotherly aids. They tend also to keep the mind at rest, for a man will enjoy the day of health, with double relish, when he considers he has a treasure laid up for that of sickness.
If a member only of a poor family be sick, the head still remains to procure necessaries; but if that head be disordered, the whole source of supply is dried up, which evinces the utility of such institutions.
The general custom is to meet at the public every fortnight, spend a trifle, and each contribute six-pence, or any stated sum, to the common stock. The landlord is always treasurer, or father, and is assisted by two stewards, annually or monthly chosen.
As honour and low life are not always found together, we sometimes see a man who is rather idle, wish the society may suppose him sick, that he may rob them with more security. Or, if a member hangs long upon the box, his brethren seek a pretence to expel him. On the other hand, we frequently observe a man silently retreat from the club, if another falls upon the box, and fondly suppose himself no longer a member; or if the box be loaded with sickness, the whole club has been known to dissolve, that they may rid themselves of the burthen; but the Court of Requests finds an easy remedy for these evils, and at a trifling expence.
The charity of the club, is also extended beyond the grave, and terminates with a present to the widow.
The philosophers tell us, "There is no good without its kindred evil." This amiable body of men, therefore, marshalled to expel disease, hath one small alloy, and perhaps but one. As liquor and labour are inseparable, the imprudent member is apt to forget to quit the club room when he has spent his necessary two-pence, but continues there to the injury of his family.
Another of these institutions is the rent club, where, from the weekly sums deposited by the members, a sop is regularly served up twice a year, to prevent the growlings of a landlord.
In the breeches club every member ballots for a pair, value a guinea, promised of more value by the maker. This club dissolves when all the members are served.
The intentions of the book club are well known, to catch the productions of the press as they rise.
The watch club has generally a watchmaker for its president, is composed of young men, and is always temporary.
If a taylor be short of employment, he has only to consult a landlord over a bottle, who, by their joint powers, can give birth to a cloaths club; where every member is supplied with a suit to his taste, of a stipulated price. These are chiefly composed of batchelors, who wish to shine in the eye of the fair.
Thus a bricklayer stands at the head of the building club, where every member perhaps subscribes two guineas per month, and each house, value about one hundred pounds, is balloted for, as soon as erected. As a house is a weighty concern, every member is obliged to produce two bondsmen for the performance of covenants.
I will venture to pronounce another the capital club, for when the contributions amount to 50l. the members ballot for this capital, to bring into business: Here also securities are necessary. It is easy to conceive the two last clubs are extremely beneficial to building and to commerce.
The last I shall enumerate is the clock club: When the weekly deposits of the members amount to about 4l. they call lots who shall be first served with a clock of that value, and continue the same method till the whole club is supplied; after which, the clockmaker and landlord cast about for another set, who are chiefly composed of young house-keepers. Hence the beginner ornaments his premises with furniture, the artist finds employment and profit, and the publican empties his barrel.
Thus we have taken a transient survey of this rising colony of arts, uniting observation with fact: We have seen her dark manufactures, in darker times: We have attended her through her commercial, religious, political, and pleasurable walks: Have viewed her in many points of light, but never in decline; 'till we have now set her in the fair sunshine of the present day.
Perhaps I shall not be charged with prolixity, that unpardonable sin against the reader, when it is considered, that three thousand years are deposited in the compass of one hundred and forty little pages.
Some other circumstances deserve attention, which could not be introduced without breaking the thread of history: But as that thread is now drawn to an end, I must, before I resume it, step back into the recesses of time, and slumber through the long ages of seventeen hundred years; if the active reader, therefore, has no inclination for a nod of that length, or, in simple phrase, no relish for antiquity, I advise him to pass over the five ensuing chapters.
IKENIELD STREET.
About five furlongs North of the Navigation Bridge, in Great Charles street, which is the boundary of the present buildings, runs the Ikenield-street; one of those famous pretorian roads which mark the Romans with conquest, and the Britons with slavery.
By that time a century had elapsed, from the first landing of Caesar in Britain the victorious Romans had carried their arms through the southern part of the isle. They therefore endeavoured to secure the conquered provinces by opening four roads, which should each rise in the shore, communicate with, and cross each other, form different angles, extend over the island several ways, and terminate in the opposite sea.
These are the Watling-street, which rises near Dover, and running North-west through London, Atherstone, and Shropshire, in the neighbourhood of Chester, ends in the Irish sea.
The Foss begins in Devonshlre, extends South-east through Leicestershire, continuing its course through Lincolnshire, to the verge of the German ocean.
These two roads, crossing each other at right angles, form a figure resembling the letter X, whose centre is the High Cross, which divides the counties of Warwick and Leicester.
The Ermine-street extends along the southern part of the island; near the British channel; and the Ikenield-street, which I cannot so soon quit, rises near Southampton, extends nearly North, through Winchester, Wallingford, and over the Isis, at New-bridge; thence to Burford, crossing the Foss at Stow in the Woulds, over Bitford-bridge, in the County of Warwick, to Alcester; by Studley, Ipsley, Beely, Wetherick-hill, Stutley-street; crosses the road from Birmingham to Bromsgrove, at Selley oak, leaving Harborne a mile to the left, also the Hales Owen road a mile West of Birmingham: Thence by the Observatory in Lady-wood-lane, where it enters the parish of Birmingham, crossing the Dudley road at the Sand-pits; along Worstone-lane; through the little pool, and Hockley-brook, where it quits the parish: Thence over Handsworth-heath, entering a little lane on the right of Bristle-lands-end, and over the river Tame, at Offord-mill, (Oldford-mill) directly to Sutton Coldfield. It passes the Ridgeway a few yards East of King's-standing, a little artificial mount, on which Charles the First is said to have stood when he harangued the troops he brought out of Shropshire, at the opening of the civil wars, in 1642. From thence the road proceeds through Sutton park, and the remainder of the Coldfield; over Radley-moor; from thence to Wall, a Roman station, where it meets the Watling-street: Leaving Lichfield a mile to the left, it leads through Street-hay; over Fradley-heath; thence through Alderwas hays, crossing the river Trent, at Wichnor-bridge, to Branson-turnpike: over Burton-moor, leaving the town half a mile to the right: thence to Monk's-bridge, upon the river Dove; along Egington-heath, Little-over, the Rue-dyches, Stepping-lane, Nun-green, and Darley-slade, to the river Derwent, one mile above Derby; upon the eastern banks of which stands Little Chester, built by the Romans.
If the traveller is tired with this tedious journey, and dull description, which admits of no variety, we will stop for a moment, and refresh in this Roman city.
In drawing the flewks of his oar along the bed of the river, as he boats over it, he may feel the foundations of a Roman bridge, nearly level with its bottom. Joining the water are the vestiges of a castle, now an orchard. Roman coins are frequently discovered--In 1765, I was presented with one of Vespasian's, found the year before in scowering a ditch; but I am sorry to observe, it has suffered more during the fifteen years in my possession, than during the fifteen hundred it lay in the earth.
The inhabitants being in want of materials to form a turnpike road, attempted to pull up this renowned military way, for the sake of those materials, but found them too strongly cemented to admit of an easy separation, and therefore desisted when they had taken up a few loads.
I saw the section of this road cut up from the bottom: the Romans seem to have formed it with infinite labour and expence. They took out the soil for about twenty yards wide, and one deep, perhaps, till they came to a firm bottom; and filled up the whole with stones of all sizes, brought from Duffield, four miles up the river; cemented with coarse mortar.
The road here is only discoverable by its barren track, along the cultivated meadows. It then proceeds over Morley-moor, through Scarsdale, by Chesterfield, Balsover, through Yorkshire, Northumberland, and terminates upon the banks of the Tine, near Tinmouth.
There are many roads in England formed by the Romans: they were of two kinds, the military, which crossed the island; and the smaller, which extended from one town to another. The four I have mentioned come under the first class: they rather avoided, than led through a town, that they might not be injured by traffic.
Two of these four, the Watling-street, and the Ikenield-street, are thought, by their names, to be British, and with some reason; neither of the words are derived from the Latin: but whatever were their origin, they are certainly of Roman construction.
These great roads were begun as soon as the island was subdued, to employ the military, and awe the natives, and were divided into stages, at the end of each was a fort, or station, to accommodate the guard, for the reception of stores, the conveniency of marching parties, and to prevent the soldiers from mixing with the Britons.
The stations upon the Ikenield-street, in our neighbourhood, are Little Chester (Derventione) a square fort, nearly half an acre; joining the road to the south, and the Derwent to the west.
The next is Burton upon Trent (Ad Trivonam) thirteen miles south. Here I find no remains of a station.
Then Wall (Etocetum) near Lichfield, which I have examined with great labour, or rather with great pleasure: Here the two famous consular roads cross each other. We should expect a fort in the angle, commanding both, which is not the case. The Watling-street is lost for about half a mile, leading over a morass, only the line is faintly preserved, by a blind path over the inclosures: the Ikenield-street crosses it in this morass, not the least traces of which remain. But, by a strict attention, I could point out their junction to a few yards.
Six furlongs west of this junction, and one hundred yards north of the Watling-street, in a close, now about three acres, are the remains of the Roman fortress. This building, of strength and terror, is reduced to one piece of thick wall, visibly of Roman workmanship, from whence the place derives its modern name.
Can you, says I to a senior peasant, for I love to appeal to old age, tell the origin of that building?
"No; but we suppose it has been a church. The ruins were much larger in my memory; but they were lately destroyed, to bring the land into that improved state of cultivation in which you see it."--And so you reduced a fortress in four years, which the Britons never could in four hundred. For a trifling profit, you eraze the work of the ancients, and prevent the wonder of the moderns.--Are you apprised of any old walls under the surface?
"Yes; the close is full of them: I have broke three ploughs in one day; no tool will stand against them. It has been more expensive to bring the land into its present condition, than the freehold is worth." Why, you seem more willing to destroy than your tools; and more able than time. The works which were the admiration of ages, you bury under ground. What the traveller comes many miles to see, you assiduously hide.
What could be the meaning that the Romans erected their station on the declivity of this hill, when the summit, two hundred yards distant, is much more eligible; are there no foundations upon it? "None."
The commandry is preferable: the Watling-street runs by it, and it is nearer the Ikenield-street. Pray, are you acquainted with another Roman road which crosses it? "No."
Do you know any close about the village, where a narrow bed of gravel, which runs a considerable length, has impeded the plough?
"Yes; there is a place, half a mile distant, where, when a child, I drove the plough; we penetrated a land of gravel, and my companion's grandfather told us, it had been an old road."--That is the place I want, lead me to it. Being already master of both ends of the road, like a broken line, with the center worn out, the gravel bed enabled me to recover it.
The next station upon the Ikenield-street is Birmingham (Bremenium) I have examined this country with care; but find no vestiges of a station: nor shall we wonder; dissolation is the preserver of antiquity, nothing of which reigns here; the most likely place is Wor-ston (Wall-stone) which a younger brother of Birmingham might afterwards convert into the fashionable moat of the times, and erect a castle. The next station is Alcester (Alauna) all which are nearly at equal distances.
In forming these grand roads, a strait direction seems to have been their leading maxim. Though curiosity has lead me to travel many hundred miles upon their roads, with the eye of an enquirer, I cannot recollect one instance, where they ever broke the line to avoid a hill, a swamp, a rock, or a river.
They were well acquainted with the propriety of an old English adage, Once well done is twice done; an idea new cloathed by Lord Chesterfield, If a a thing be worth doing at all, it is worth doing well.
For their roads were so durably constructed, that, had they been appropriated only to the use intended, they might have withstood the efforts of time, and bid fair for eternity.--Why is this useful art so lost among the moderns?
When time and intercourse had so far united the Romans and the Britons, that they approached nearly to one people, the Romans formed, or rather improved, many of the smaller roads; placed stones of intelligence upon them; hence, London Stone, Stony Stratford (the stone at the Street-ford) Atherstone, stone (hither, near, or first stone from Witherly-bridge, a Roman camp) and fixed their stations in the places to which these roads tended.
The great roads, as observed before, were chiefly appropriated for military purposes, and instituted in the beginning of their government; but the smaller were of later date, and designed for common use. As these came more in practice, there was less occasion for the military; which, not leading to their towns, were, in process of time, nearly laid aside.
Antonine, and his numerous train of commentators, have not bestowed that attention on the roads they deserve: a curious acquaintance with the roads of a country, brings us acquainted with the manners of the people: in one, like a mirror, is exactly represented the other. Their state, like a master key, unlocks many apartments.
The authors I have seen are all in the wrong; and as my researches are confined, it is a mortification, I am not able to set them right. They have confounded the two classes together, which were very distinct in chronology, the manner of making, and their use. If an author treats of one old road, he supposes himself bound to treat of all in the kingdom, a task no man can execute: by undertaking much, we do nothing well; the journey of an antiquarian mould never be rapid. If fortune offers a small discovery, let him think, and compare. Neither will they ever be set right, but continue to build a mouldering fabric, with untempered mortar, till a number of intelligent residents, by local enquiries can produce solid materials for a lasting monument.
The Romans properly termed their ways streets, a name retained by many of them to this day; one of the smaller roads, issuing from London, penetrates through Stratford upon Avon (Street-ford) Monks-path-street, and Shirley-street, to Birmingham, which proves it of great antiquity, and the Ikenield-street running by it, proves it of greater. We may from hence safely conclude, Birmingham was a place of note in the time of Caesar, because she merited legislative regard in forming their roads; which will send us far back among the Britons, to find her first existence.
Though we are certain the Ikenield-street passes about a mile in length through this parish, as described above; yet, as there are no Roman traces to be seen, I must take the curious traveller to that vast waste, called Sutton-Coldfield, about four miles distant, where he will, in the same road, find the footsteps of those great mailers of the world, marked in lasting characters.
He will plainly see its straight line pass over the Ridgeway, through Sutton Park, leaving the West hedge about 200 yards to the left; through the remainder of the Coldfield, till lost in cultivation.
This track is more than three miles in length, and is no where else visible in these parts. I must apprize him that its highest beauty is only discovered by an horizontal sun in the winter months.
I first saw it in 1762, relieved by the transverse rays, in a clear evening in November; I had a perfect view upon the Ridgeway, near King's-standing of this delightful scene: Had I been attacked by the chill blasts of winter, upon this bleak mountain, the sensation would have been lost in the transport. The eye, at one view, takes in more than two miles. Struck with astonishment, I thought it the grandest sight I had ever beheld; and was amazed, so noble a monument of antiquity should be so little regarded.
The poets have long contended for the line of beauty--they may find it here. I was fixed as by enchantment till the sun dropt, my prospect with it, and I left the place with regret.
If the industrious traveller chooses to wade up to the middle in gorse, as I did, he may find a roughish journey along this famous military way.
Perhaps this is the only road in which money is of no use to the traveller; for upon this barren wild he can neither spend it, nor give it away.
He will perceive the Coldfield to be one vast bed of gravel, covered with a moderate depth of soil of eight or ten inches: During this journey of three miles, he will observe all the way, on each side, a number of pits, perhaps more than a thousand, out of which the Romans procured the gravel to form the road; none of them many yards from it. This great number of pits, tends to prove two points--That the country was full of timber, which they not choosing to fall, procured the gravel in the interstices; for the road is composed of nothing else--And, that a great number of people were employed in its formation: They would also, with the trees properly disposed, which the Romans must inevitably cut to procure a passage, form a barrier to the road.
This noble production was designed by a master, is every where straight, and executed with labour and judgement.
Here he perceives the date of his own conquest, and of his civilization. Thus the Romans humbled a ferocious people.
If he chooses to measure it he will find it exactly sixty feet wide, divided into three lands, resembling those in a ploughed field. The centre land thirty-six feet, and raised from one to three, according to the nature of the ground. The side lands, twelve each, and rising seldom more than one foot.
This centre land no doubt was appropriated for the march of the troops, and the small one, on each side, for the out-guards, who preserved their ranks, for fear of a surprize from the vigilant and angry Britons.
The Romans held these roads in great esteem, and were severe in their laws for their preservation.
This famous road is visible all the way, but in some parts greatly hurt, and in others, compleat as in the first day the Romans made it. Perhaps the inquisitive traveller may find here, the only monument in the whole island left us by the Romans, that time hath not injured.
The philosophical traveller may make some curious observations in the line of agriculture, yet in its infancy.
The only growth upon this wild, is gorse and ling: The vegetation upon the road and the adjacent lands, seem equal: The pits are all covered with a tolerable turf.
As this road has been made about 1720 years, and, as at the time of making, both that and the pits must have been surfaces of neat gravel; he will be led to examine, what degree of soil they have acquired in that long course of years, and by what means?
He well knows, that the surface of the earth is very far from being a fixed body: That there is a continual motion in every part, stone excepted: That the operations of the sun, the air, the frost, the dews, the winds, and the rain, produce a constant agitation, which changes the particles and the pores, tends to promote vegetation, and to increase the soil to a certain depth.
This progress is too minute for the human eye, but the effects are visible. The powers above mentioned operate nearly as yeast in a lump of dough, that enlivens the whole. Nature seems to wish that the foot would leave the path, that she may cover it with grass. He will find this vegetative power so strong, that it even attends the small detached parts of the soil where-ever they go, provided they are within reach of air and moisture: He will not only observe it in the small pots, appropriated for garden use, but on the tops of houses, remote from any road, where the wind has carried any small dust. He will also observe it in cracks of the rocks; but in an amazing degree in the thick walls of ruined castles, where, by a long course of time, the decayed materials are converted into a kind of soil, and so well covered with grass, that if one of our old castle builders could return to his possessions, he might mow his house as well as his field, and procure a tolerable crop from both.
In those pits, upon an eminence, the soil will be found deep enough for any mode of husbandry. In those of the vallies, which take in the small drain of the adjacent parts, it is much deeper. That upon the road, which rather gives than receives any addition from drain, the average depth is about four inches.
The soil is not only increased by the causes above, but also by the constant decays of the growth upon it. The present vegetable generation falling to decay, adds to the soil, and also, assists the next generation, which in a short time follows the same course.
The author of the History of Sutton says, "The poor inhabitants are supplied with fuel from a magazine of peat, near the Roman road, composed of thousands of fir trees cut down by the Romans, to enable them to pass over a morass. The bodies of the trees are sometimes dug up found, with the marks of the axe upon them."
Are we then to suppose, by this curious historical anecdote, that the inhabitants of Sutton have run away with this celebrated piece of antiquity? That the cart, instead of rolling over the military way, has rolled under it, and that they have boiled the pot with the Roman road?
Upon inquiry, they seemed more inclined to credit the fact, than able to prove it; but I can find no such morass, neither is the road any where broken up. Perhaps it would be as difficult to find the trees, as the axe that cut them: Besides, the fir is not a native of Britain, but of Russia; and I believe our forefathers, the Britons, were not complete masters of the art of transplanting. The park of Sutton was probably a bed of oaks, the natural weed of the country, long before Moses figured in history.
Whilst the political traveller is contemplating this extraordinary production of antiquity, of art, and of labour, his thoughts will naturally recur to the authors of it.
He will find them proficients in science, in ambition, in taste: They added dominion to conquest, 'till their original territory became too narrow a basis to support the vast fabric acquired by the success of their arms: The monstrous bulk fell to destruction by its own weight.--Man was not made for universality; if he grasps at little, he may retain it; if at much, he may lose all.
The confusion, natural on such occasions, produced anarchy: At that moment, the military stept into the government, and the people became slaves.
Upon the ruins of this brave race, the Bishop of Rome founded an ecclesiastical jurisdiction. His power increasing with his votaries, he found means to link all christendom to the triple crown, and acquired an unaccountable ascendency over the human mind: The princes of Europe were harnessed, like so many coach horses. The pontiff directed the bridle. He sometimes used the whip, and sometimes the curse. The thunder of his throne rattled through the world with astonishing effect, 'till that most useful discovery, the art of printing, in the fifteenth century, dissolved the charm, and set the oppressed cattle at liberty; who began to kick their driver. Henry the Eighth of England, was the first unruly animal in the papal team, and the sagacious Cranmer assisted in breaking the shackles.
We have, in our day, seen an order of priesthood in the church of Rome, annihilated by the consent of the European princes, which the Pope beheld in silence.
"There is an ultimate point of exaltation, and reduction, beyond which human affairs cannot proceed." Rome, seems to have experienced both, for she is at this day one of the most contemptible states in the scale of empire.
This will of course lead the traveller's thoughts towards Britain, where he will find her sons by nature inclined to a love of arms, of liberty, and of commerce. These are the strong outlines of national character, the interior parts of which are finished with the softer touches of humanity, of science, and of luxury. He will also find, that there is a natural boundary to every country, beyond which it is dangerous to add dominion. That the boundary of Britain is the sea: That her external strength is her navy, which protects her frontiers, and her commerce: That her internal is unanimity: That when her strength is united within herself, she is invincible, and the balance of Europe will be fixed in her hand, which she ought never to let go.
But if she accumulates territory, though she may profit at first, she weakens her power by dividing it; for the more she fends abroad, the less will remain at home; and, instead of giving law to the tyrant, she may be obliged to receive law from him.
That, by a multiplicity of additions, her little isles will be lost in the great map of dominion.
That, if she attempts to draw that vast and growing empire, America, she may herself be drawn to destruction; for, by every law of attraction, the greater draws the less--The mouse was never meant to direct the ox. That the military and the ecclesiastical powers are necessary in their places, that is, subordinate to the civil.
But my companion will remember that Birmingham is our historical mark, therefore we must retreat to that happy abode of the smiling arts. If he has no taste for antiquity, I have detained him too long upon this hungry, though delightful spot. If he has, he will leave the enchanted ground with reluctance; will often turn his head to repeat the view, 'till the prospect is totally lost.
LORDS OF THE MANOR.
By the united voice of our historians, it appears, that as the Saxons conquered province after province, which was effected in about one hundred and thirty years, the unfortunate Britons retreated into Wales: But we are not to suppose that all the inhabitants ran away, and left a desolate region to the victor; this would have been of little more value to the conqueror, than the possession of Sutton Coldfield or Bromsgrove Lickey. The mechanic and the peasant were left, which are by far the greatest number; they are also the riches of a country; stamp a value upon property, and it becomes current. As they have nothing to lose, so they have nothing to fear; for let who will be master, they must be drudges: Their safety consists in their servitude; the victor is ever conscious of their utility, therefore their protection is certain.
But the danger lies with the man of substance, and the greater that substance, the greater his anxiety to preserve it, and the more danger to himself if conquered: These were the people who retreated into Wales. Neither must we consider the wealth of that day to consist of bags of cash, bills of exchange, India bonds, bank stock, etc. no such thing existed. Property lay in the land, and the herds that fed upon it. And here I must congratulate our Welch neighbours, who are most certainly descended from gentlemen; and I make no doubt but the Cambrian reader will readily unite in the same sentiment.
The Saxons, as conquerors, were too proud to follow the modes of the conquered, therefore they introduced government, laws, language, customs and habits of their own. Hence we date the division of the kingdom into manors.
Human nature is nearly the same in all ages. Where value is marked upon property or power, it will find its votaries: Whoever was the most deserving, or rather could make the most interest, procured land sufficient for an Elderman, now Earl; the next class, a Manor; and the inferior, who had borne the heat and burthen of the day--nothing.
I must now introduce an expression which I promised not to forget.--In the course of a trial between William de Birmingham, and the inhabitants of Bromsgrove and King's-norton, in 1309, concerning the right of tollage; it appeared, That the ANCESTORS of the said William had a market here before the Norman conquest. This proves, that the family of Birmingham were of Saxon race, and Lords of the Manor prior to that period.
Mercia was not only the largest, but also the last of the seven conquered kingdoms--It was bounded on the North by the Humber, on the West by the Severn, on the South by the Thames, and on the East by the German ocean. Birmingham lies nearly in the centre. Cridda, a Saxon, came over with a body of troops, and reduced it in 582; therefore, as no after revolution happened that could cause Birmingham to change its owner, and as land was not in a very saleable state at that time, there is the greatest reason to suppose the founder of the house of Birmingham Came over with Cridda, as an officer in his army, and procured this little flourishing dominion as a reward for his service.
The succeeding generations of this illustrious family are too remote for historical penetration, 'till the reign of Edward the Confessor, the last of the Saxon Kings, when we find, in 1050,
ULUUINE, (since ALWYNE, now ALLEN,)
master of this improving spot.