And stickt them upon poles;
Poor Deel! ’twas all that he could do
Since God has ta’en their souls.
In Manchester the suppression of the rebellion of ’45 was hailed with delight by the partisans of the house of Brunswick; the church bells rang throughout the day, bonfires blazed at night, and orange-coloured ribbons were flaunted in the streets as gaily as the Stuart tartan had been only a few months before. That day must have been a sorrowful one for Byrom and his enthusiastic daughter, for they could hardly have escaped the insults of the Hanoverian mob when Dr. Deacon’s house was attacked and that of poor widow Syddal demolished.
The ill-feeling engendered by these events was of long duration, and the toast of “The King” was not unfrequently a cause of angry disputation. The adherents of the exiled dynasty continued their meetings, though they usually assembled in secret, and their movements were carefully watched by the local authorities, suspected persons being required to take the oath of allegiance to the reigning monarch and abjure Popery and the Pretender. Some of the more prominent sympathisers took alarm and fled, among them being Clayton, the chaplain of the Collegiate Church, who was said to have offered public prayers for Prince Charles in one of the streets of Salford. Byrom, in describing this period, says—
We ourselves were many of us fugitives; and had we not met with some kind asylum towns, might have wandered among the inhospitable hills, like the present mountaineer rebels.
His Journal shows that at this time he was frequently away from Manchester, and not unfrequently endeavouring through the influence of his former patrons to obtain a mitigation of the punishment of such of the Manchester rebels as had survived the thirst of Whiggish vengeance, but were yet undergoing imprisonment. Thus he wrote to his wife (June 18, 1748):—
On Friday the 10th of June I had been asked to meet Mr. Folkes at Mr. Ch. Stanhope’s, where I found likewise Lord Linsdale, D(uk)e of Mountague, and Mr. Stanhope’s brother, Lord Harrington, with whom we passed the dinner and an hour or two after very agreeably. They asked me a great many questions about the Pretender, and circumstances when he was at Manchester, &c., and I told them what I knew and thought without any reserve, and took the opportunity of setting some matters in a truer light than I suppose they had heard them placed in, and put in now and then a word in favour of the prisoners, especially Charles D, (Charles, youngest son of Dr. Deacon, who had acted as secretary, and superintended the recruiting of the Manchester regiment). They were all very free and good natured, and did not seem offended with anything that I took the liberty to enlarge upon. When Mr. Folkes came away, about seven o’clock, I came with him, and he said that what had passed might possibly occasion young D.’s liberty, that they were not violent in their tempers, and that he took notice that they listened very much to what I had been telling them of Manchester affairs. I was much pleased with the openness of conversation which we had upon several subjects; and as Mr. St(anhope) had made me promise him some verses that I had lately writ, I added a Latin copy to his brother the Viceroy of Ireland, which I brought him yesterday, for he had sent a servant for me to dine with again, and then we had Lord Harrington, Lord Baltimore, D. of Richmond and a lady—Lady Townshend—and somebody else—oh, Sir John Cope. The Duchess of R. should have been there, but the Duke made an excuse for her. As we had a lady, however, and one (as Mr. St. had hinted to me) of great wit and politeness, who stayed the afternoon, complaisance to her turned the conversation upon suitable subjects, so that I could not well introduce the fate of Ch. D. &c. before the D. of R. who is one of our present kings,[47] as I wanted to do. Mr. St. had read the Latin verses and given them before dinner, and the Duke might have seen them if he would, but the lady and the Latin did not suit politely enough, and there was no urging anything untimely, or else I could have been glad to have heard what he would have said about the lot of the imprisoned.... One can only try as occasion offers, what mercy can be got from trying.
He did try, and on the 23rd July he again writes:—