Much discussion must often have followed the amount of fine which a tenant had to pay when the three lives and twenty-one years his property was held on had expired, and on this point Sir Edward Moore is always lucid. Even where, as in few cases, he had a good word for the tenant, he never forgets the fine, as:—“William Gardiner, bailiff, a very honest man. He paid no rent, only built the house; it is a very good house. Let the old rent be raised to 40 shillings per annum, and the fine to £60.”
Again: “Thomas Wainwright, a very honest man. He paid no fine, only built his house. Let the old rent be raised to two pounds and fifty pounds fine at the least.”
In the case of John Pemberton, which is interesting as showing the terms on which property was often built along a street, Sir Edward is hardly in reason. It seems one John Pemberton had commenced the building of one side of a street, with a common but tacit understanding that all houses were to be carried up to the same height as his own, and as his house was at the upper end of More Street, the sagacious landlord saw at once that the houses on the lower part of the street would be six storeys high, and when these fell out of lease, the amount of fine for renewal might fairly be left to him. Two storeys was all that Pemberton required, and he refused to build higher. But Sir Edward tells his own tale best. “John Pemberton, the apothecary, a base ill-contrived fellow. This man wronged this street five hundred pounds, for he being the first house on this side going up, all the rest of the street engaged to build uniform with him, so that had he built four stories, all the street had been so, and the houses toward the lower end of the street had been six stories high to have made them level with his of four stories, in regard of the fall of the ground. I used all the civil means possible to get him to build higher, and when I saw he would not, I sent Alderman Andow and the town-clerk, Mr. John Winstanley, to let him know that as we had always been friends, I desired the same continuance, and if he would not build it two stories higher, I would, all of my own cost and charge.” He seems, however, to have had at times some kind of slight fellow-feeling. Thus, in speaking of Mr. John Owen, bailiff, he says among other directions, that he is under rented, and he tells his son to see to it, that there must be a fine of £30. His consideration for the family of Robert Johnson is something touching. As far as Mr. Johnson is concerned, he dismisses him with a character readily, and says he is “an arrant knave, one that grinds from my mill very often; trust him not, make him pay one pound a year rent, and ten pounds fine, for he is but a poor knave, and mercy must be had on his children; only, for being such a knave make him to slate his house, as all the street is besides himself.”
Sir Edward takes great pride in his well that he has dug in More Street, which he gravely tells his son brews as much ale out of four measures of malt as any other out of five measures, and there is no well like it for boiling pease and bearing soap.
“Mrs. Rose, now married to one Diggler, a glazier,” seems with her husband to have been very much in Sir Edward’s black books. They were “extreme unthankful to me, and abused me much behind my back, therefore never let him glaze for you, and if ever he have occasion to use you, deal with him accordingly.... I got him much custom, and she out of my own good will I paid six pounds for a gable end, when she had neither money nor credit to have built it, and ill words is all I got for my pains. But God reward them. Make them pay thirty shillings rent, and thirty pounds fine at least. Hens, two.” And so he runs through the roll of his tenantry, till one is startled to find one Thomas Narbury, “a very honest man, and built a good house; and is so well pleased with his landlord that he intends to lay out £250 more under me in building.” Richard Bushell also, and his wife, are “very honest people; use them well. Make the old rent 40s. a year, and whereas it deserves a hundred pounds fine, bate them fifty pounds for their honesty to their landlord.” Of Robert Woodside also he says, “he is a good honest man, of a Scot;” but relapses at once into more accustomed phraseology when speaking of his wife, who is, he says, “as ungratefull a beast as is in England.” It would be interesting to hear the accounts the tenantry gave of their landlord, but such have not been preserved.
Bank Hall at Warrington, was built shortly after this summary was sent to Sir Edward’s heir. It is a fine example of the best Queen Anne’s style, and
is now turned into public offices. The gardens and grounds are still intact, but smoky tall chimneys envelope them on every side, and it is probably in the transition state. Indeed, before very long a street will pass its noble entrance, and people will remember that “it once stood in its own grounds, and the street you are walking in was a geranium bed thirty years ago.” Murray in his guide-book speaks of Lancashire as a county abounding in ancient black-and-white houses, and places it at the head of all others. Cheshire, however, must have many more, and of course, as far as the towns are concerned, there can be no comparison in antique relics. There are in Lancashire now twelve boroughs, with mayors and corporations, and though Lancaster is rather picturesque, it may be fairly said that the character of these corporate towns is dreariness. We look in vain for some pleasant
