On Tuesday, the 25th of November, news came that Prince Charles Edward had marched his forces into Lancashire. The town was in a state of great excitement. The Presbyterians and Whigs deemed it prudent to get out of the way; the militia, which had been very valiant before the approach of the rebels, followed the example; the wealthier householders removed their families into the country; and even furniture and provisions were conveyed to places of more assured safety. On the afternoon of Friday, the 28th, Sergeant Dickson, a dashing young Scotchman, with his sweetheart and a drummer, entered the town and proclaimed the Chevalier King; and on the following morning the Prince with the main body of his army joined them, and encamped in St. Ann’s Square. “Manchester,” says Ray, in his “History of the Rebellion,” “was taken by a sergeant, a drum, and a woman, who rode to the market cross on horses with hempen halters on, where they proclaimed their King.” Here is “Beppy” Byrom’s version:
Tuesday (November) 28.—About three o’clock to-day came into town two men in Highland dress, and a woman behind one of them with a drum on her knee, and for all the loyal work that our Presbyterians have made they took possession of the town, as one may say, for immediately after they were ’light they beat up for volunteers for P(rince) C(harles).... They were directly joined by Mr. J. Bradshaw, Mr. Tom Sydall, Mr. Tom Deacon, Mr. Fletcher, Tom Chaddock; and several others have listed, about 80 men by eight o’clock, when my papa came down to tell us there was a party of horse come in. He took care of me to the Cross, when I saw them all. It is a very fine moonlight night.... My papa and uncle are gone to consult with Mr. Croxton, Mr. Fielden, and others how to keep themselves out of any scrape, and yet behave civilly (a very prudent procedure in such a crisis). All the justices fled, and lawyers too, but coz. Clowes.
Friday, 29th.—They are beating up for the P.; eleven o’clock we went up to the Cross to see the rest come in; then came small parties of them till about three o’clock, when the P. and the main body of them came; I cannot guess how many.... Then came an officer up to us at the Cross, and gave us the manifesto and declarations. The bells they rung, and P. Cotterel made a bonfire, and all the town was illuminated, every house except Mr. Dickinson’s (the house in Market-street-lane, where the Prince took up his quarters, and thenceforward known as the Palace). My papa, mama, and sister, and my uncle and I walked up and down to see it. About four o’clock the King was proclaimed, the mob shouted very cleverly, and then we went up to see my aunt Brearcliffe, and stayed eleven o’clock making St Andrew’s crosses for them; we sat up making till two o’clock.
Colonel Townley, a member of the great Catholic family of that name, who had arranged for the Prince’s reception in Manchester, and had engaged several of the principal residents for officers, speedily mustered and enrolled a regiment in the service of the Prince. Each recruit received a white St Andrew’s cross, which cost little, and a promise of five guineas, which, as they were never paid, cost less. In the next entry the enthusiastic young Jacobite describes her impressions of the “yellow-hair’d laddie,” and the way in which her father made homage to him:—
Saturday, 30th (St. Andrew’s Day).—More crosses making till twelve o’clock; then I dressed up in my white gown and went up to my aunt Brearcliffe’s, and an officer called on us to go see the prince. We went to Mr. Fletcher’s and saw him get a horseback, and a noble sight it is [no wonder that amid such excitement the young lady got a little “mixed” in her moods and tenses]. I would not have missed it for a great deal of money. His horse had stood an hour in the court without stirring, and as soon as he got on he [i.e. the horse, not the prince] began a dancing and capering as if he was proud of the burden, and when he rid out of the court he was received with as much joy and shouting almost as if he had been King, indeed I think scarce anybody that saw him could dispute it. As soon as he was gone the officer and us went to prayers at the old church at two o’clock by their orders, or else there has been none since they came. Mr. Shrigley read prayers; he prayed for the King and Prince of Wales, and named no names. Then we called at our house and eat a queen cake, and a glass of wine, for we got no dinner; then the officer went with us all to the Camp Field to see the artillery; called at my uncle’s and then went up to Mr. Fletcher’s, stayed there till the prince was at supper, then the officer introduced us into the room, stayed awhile and then went into the great parlour where the officers were dining, sat by Mrs. Stark(ey); they were all exceeding civil and almost made us fuddled with drinking the P. health, for we had had no dinner; we sat there till Secretary Murray came to let us know that the P. was at leisure and had done supper, so we were all introduced and had the honour to kiss his hand; my papa was fetched prisoner to do the same [another testimony to the doctor’s discretion], as was Dr. Deacon; Mr. Cattell and Mr. Clayton [two of the Old Church clergy who were less cautious] did it without; the latter said grace for him; then we went out and drank his health in the other room, and so to Mr. Fletcher’s, where my mamma waited for us (my uncle was gone to pay his land tax) and then went home.
December 1st.—About six o’clock the P. and the foot set out, went up Market-street Lane and over Cheadle ford; the horse was gathering together all forenoon; we went up to the Cross to see them, and then to Mr. Starkey’s, they were all drawn up in the Square and went off in companies, Lord Elcho’s horse went past Baguley.
What follows is matter of history.
The Stuart, leaning on the Scot,
Pierced to the very centre of the realm,
In hopes to seize his abdicated helm.
The Pretender’s cause was soon lost, the progress of his army being as brief as it was disastrous. Hearing, on their arrival at Derby, that the Duke of Cumberland with an army of veterans was in the neighbourhood, and distrusting the skill of their own officers, they returned northwards, their vanguard reaching Manchester on the 9th of December, where the regiment which Colonel Townley had raised only a few days before was disbanded, though some of the more resolute supporters of the Prince pushed on to Carlisle, where, after a feeble effort to hold the city, they were compelled to surrender. Chaplain Coppock was executed in the border city, wearing his canonicals; ten of the others, including a son of Dr. Deacon, and the adjutant, Syddal, whose father had given up his life in the same cause thirty years previously, and Beppy Byrom’s cousin, Jemmy Dawson, were executed on Kennington Common. The heads of Deacon and Syddal were sent to Manchester and fixed upon spikes on the top of the Exchange,[46] to be reverenced by friends and execrated by foes, an exhibition that called forth the following lines:—
The Deel has set their heads to view,