At Kendal their cheerfulness was somewhat restored by the appearance of Lord Widdrington’s brother with news that Lancashire was ready to rise, that James III. had that day been proclaimed King at Manchester, where the townspeople had undertaken to furnish a troop of fifty men at their own expense, and where many volunteers might be expected. Instead of marching on Newcastle, where the Whig general was hurrying to meet them, they determined to advance to Lancaster. The loyalists were completely surprised at this descent into Lancashire. Sir Henry Houghton was at the head of a body of militia numbering 600. He could not obtain the aid of some dragoons who were stationed in Preston, but refused to stir without orders from London, and he was forced to retreat on Preston, and the army of King James took peaceful possession of the town with trumpets sounding, and the bare swords of the gentlemen glittering gaily as they rode triumphantly forward. The prisoners in the castle were now released from durance vile, and Syddal—Captain Syddal, as he was styled—attached himself to the regiment of the Earl of Derwentwater. Perhaps he was one of the lucky gentlemen soldiers, who dressed “in their best clothes,” went to drink a dish of tea with the ladies of Lancaster, which fair Jacobites were also “in their best rigging, and had their tea tables richly furnished for to entertain their new suitors.” On the 9th of November they marched to Preston, and were greatly encouraged by learning that the dragoons already mentioned had quitted that town. Less pleasing to them was the conduct of Peploe the curate, who had the courage to read with extra emphasis and unction the prayers for King George and his family. At Preston the rebels remained inactive, seemingly careless of the danger which threatened them. Carpenter was hastening from Newcastle, and a second force was hastening in detachments from the west to be placed under the command of General Wills in the neighbourhood. The plan of the campaign was drawn up by no less a man than Marlborough. On the 8th Wills passed through Manchester and found the town so disaffected that he quartered a thousand men in it, greatly to the disgust of the High Church Tories, some of whom were arrested, whilst others fled, or remained in concealment. Whilst the rebels were “feasting and courting” in Preston, bewitched by the Jacobite charms of what was then the most aristocratic and luxurious of the Lancashire towns, wasting the precious hours in contented lotos-eating, the Whigs were full of activity. Even Dissenting ministers in more than one case marched at the head of their congregations with muskets, scythes mounted on poles, and everything that could be tortured into weapons of offence, and joined the army of General Wills to fight for liberty and the Protestant succession. The Rev. James Woods, of Chowbent, was conspicuous in this way, and for the rest of his life was commonly known as “General” Woods.
Notwithstanding the military genius of Mackintosh who now planned the defence, the rebels after some hard fighting, on the arrival of Carpenter found themselves hopelessly surrounded. They sent Colonel Oxburgh to treat with Wills for a capitulation. “I will not treat with Rebels; they have killed several of the King’s subjects, and they must expect to undergo the same fate.” Such was Wills’ alternative, unconditional surrender, and only one hour in which to decide. This secret negotiation exasperated the Highlanders, who swore they would die fighting, and vowed they would shoot their muddle-headed General Forster if they had the chance. The time for consideration was afterwards extended after a further conference with some of the Scotch officers, who pledged themselves to a cessation from arms. Some six or seven rebels were, notwithstanding, cut to pieces in an attempt to escape. Mackintosh was now a hostage in the hands of the King’s forces, and on the 13th of November the defenders of Preston surrendered at discretion. Many of the rebels escaped, but the number of prisoners was 1,569.
The rebellion begun hastily and ignorantly, carried on through all its course with dissensions, quarrels, and the most lamentable incompetence, had arrived at its ignominious end, so far as England was concerned. Preston was for some time given up to plunder, and the prisoners reserved for retribution, in divers jails of Lancashire and Cheshire. The House of Hanover was never noticeable for mercy, and the retribution was a bloody one.
The landing of James in Scotland did no good at all. Above a thousand of the rebels were transported, some of the leaders amongst them; Forster and the brave old Mackintosh escaped, the one by fraud, the other by force. The number who were executed is not known. The hangman had a triumphant progress through Lancashire. On the eleventh of February, 1716, there came into Manchester a melancholy cavalcade. Bound to one horse by strong cords and surrounded by guards, there rode into the town dashing Tom Syddal, the former leader of the High Church mob in destroying the Dissenting chapels, and with him four others who had been condemned to death. They were hanged, drawn, and quartered, at Knott Mill. Syddal’s head was afterwards fixed on the Market Cross.
The Fool of Lancaster.
“Take gifts with a sigh, most men give to be paid.”—J. B. O’Reilly. Rules of the Road.
This story, which is told in “Jack of Dover,” 1604, is instructive if not amusing:—“There was of late (quoth another of the jurie) a ploughman and a butcher dwelling in Lancaster who, for a trifling matter (like two fooles), went to law, and spent much money therein, almost to both their undoings; but at last, being both consented to be tride by a lawyer dwelling in the same town, each of them, in hope of a further favour, bestowed gyftes upon him. The ploughman first of all presented him a cupple of good fat hens, desiring Mr. Lawyer to stand his good friend, and to remember his suite in law, the which he courteously tooke at his handes, saying that what favour he could show him, he should be sure of the uttermost. But now, when the butcher heard of the presenting of these hens by the ploughman, hee went and presently killed a good fatte hogge, and in like manner presented it to the lawyer, as a bribe to draw him to his side; the which he also tooke very courteously, and promised the like to him as he did before to the other. But so it fell out, that shortly after the verdict passed on the butcher’s side; which when the ploughman had notice of, he came to the lawyer, and asked him wherefore his two hens were forgotten. Mary, quoth he, because there came in a fatte hogge and eate them up. Now a vengeance take that hog! quoth the ploughman, that eate both my suit in law and hens together! Well, quoth Jacke of Dover, this in my minde was pretty foolery, but yet the foole of all fooles is not heere found, that I looked for.”
This seems to have been a rather favourite jest, for it is given also in the “Pleasant Conceits of Old Hobson,” 1607, and in the “Mery Tales,” 1530, and is one of the mediæval jokes given by Wright in his “Latin Stories” (Percy Society).
Alexander Barclay and Manchester.
Probably the first purely literary reference to Manchester is that contained in the first eclogue of Alexander Barclay. Of the two shepherds who carry on a dialogue, Cornix is the chief speaker, and graphically pourtrays the miseries of life at court. Early in the conversation comes this passage:—