ECHOES OF OLD LANCASHIRE.

Five hundred copies of this book printed,

and this is No. 228

ECHOES ...

OF

OLD LANCASHIRE.

BY WILLIAM E. A. AXON.

LONDON:

WILLIAM ANDREWS & CO., 5, FARRINGDON AVENUE, E.C.

1899.

William Andrews & Co
THE HULL PRESS

TO THE

EARL OF CRAWFORD,

THE REPRESENTATIVE OF THE ANCIENT

LANCASHIRE FAMILY OF

BRADSHAIGH OF HAIGH,

THE HEAD OF A GREAT HISTORIC SCOTTISH HOUSE,

THE CHIEF OF THE LINDSAYS;

A SUCCESSFUL WORKER IN SCIENCE,

AND AN ARDENT LOVER OF LITERATURE,

THIS LITTLE BOOK,

DEALING WITH SOME PHASES AND EPISODES

OF THE PAST LIFE OF THE

COUNTY PALATINE OF LANCASTER,

IS DEDICATED.

Preface.

This volume is intended for those who find it pleasant, at times, to wander in the byways of topography and local literature. The development of Lancashire, especially in its relation to modern industrial life, has been told by more than one able historian, and all that is here attempted is to glean in the ample harvest fields. The bygone customs, forgotten worthies, outworn superstitions, historical episodes and travellers’ tales here recorded, will, it is hoped, not be without interest. If some of the articles seem more modern than the title would strictly justify, it must be remembered that the changes in the condition of the County Palatine have been so rapid that many things have become obsolete in the life time of the existing generation.

To several friends, and especially to the Rev. Dr. Casartelli and Mr. C. W. Sutton, thanks are due for various suggestions.

William E. A. Axon.

Moss Side, Manchester.

Contents.

Echoes of Old Lancashire.

The “Lancashire Plot.”

The town of Manchester was in a state of indignant and feverish excitement on the 17th of October, 1694, being the sixth year of the reign of William the Deliverer. Everywhere groups of townspeople were discussing the all-absorbing topic of the “Lancashire Plot,” for on that day there came to the town four of their Majesties’ judges, with every circumstance of pomp and parade, to try for their lives gentlemen of the best blood of Lancashire and Cheshire; unfortunate prisoners who were accused of having conspired against the Deliverer, of having been guilty of the treason of remaining faithful to the old King, whom the rest of the nation had cast off. The prisoners were brought into town strongly guarded, amidst the sympathetic demonstrations of their neighbours, who were equally liberal of groans and hisses for the wretched informers who were about to do their endeavour to bring them to the scaffold.

Lancashire, which in the civil war struck some hearty blows for the Parliament, was now a hotbed of disaffection. The old cavalier families, in spite of bitter experience of Stuart ingratitude, remained faithful in spirit to the exile of St. Germains; and the common people would have no love for King William, who was a foreigner, nor for Queen Mary, who sat upon the throne of her royal father, whilst he wandered a weary exile in a foreign land. The accused would have been pretty certain of sympathy had the public mind been convinced of the reality of the supposed conspiracy. How much more so, then, when it was shrewdly suspected that the charge had been trumped up by a gang of villains eager for blood-money, and supported by greater rogues anxious for a share of the estates which would be forfeited upon the conviction of their victims? Nor was the suspicion altogether groundless; covetous eyes were fixed longingly on these fine Lancashire acres, and the Roman Catholic gentry ran great danger of being defrauded of their inheritances.

In 1693, a commission sat at Warrington to inquire into certain lands and property alleged to have been given to “superstitious uses,” i.e., to ascertain whether the Roman Catholic gentry had applied any portion of their estates or income to the promotion of their faith, or the sustenance of its ministers, and if they could be convicted of this heinous crime the property was confiscated, and one-third portion was to be the reward of the undertakers. So confident were these persons of their prey, that the plunder was prospectively allotted. As the result of this commission, where the defendants were not heard, the matter was carried into the Exchequer Chamber. Here it was pretended that at a meeting at the papal nuncio’s house, Lord Molyneux, William Standish, Thomas Eccleston, William Dicconson, Sir Nicholas Sherborne, Sir W. Gerard, and Thomas Gerard, had all promised money or lands for Popish uses. But the accusers had been very clumsy, for the falsehood of each separate item of the accusation was so abundantly proved, that the Government was forced to abandon all further proceedings.

When, therefore, in the next year, it was bruited about that a plot had been discovered to bring back King James and murder King William of Orange; that men had been enlisted, commissions received from St. Germains, arms bought and concealed in the old halls of Lancashire and Cheshire, and that those who had by the Warrington inquiry been in danger of losing their broad acres, were now also likely to lose their lives; men said, not unnaturally, that it was a base and horrible conspiracy against the Lancashire gentlemen; that this was the next move in the iniquitous game began at Warrington. If broken tapsters and branded rogues were to be encouraged in devoting to the traitor’s block gentlemen of rank and estate, whose life was safe?

Such was the state of feeling amongst the crowds which surrounded the Sessions House, opposite to where our present Exchange is erected. It was not until the 20th that the trial before a jury began. On that Saturday, Sir Roland Stanley, Sir Thomas Clifton, William Dicconson, Philip Langton, Esquires, and William Blundell, Gent., were placed at the bar and, in long verbose sentences, accused both in Latin and English generally of being false traitors to our Sovereign Lord and Lady, and specifically of having accepted commissions for the raising of an army from James II., late King of England. After the case had been opened, Sir William Williams, their Majesties’ counsel, called, as first witness, John Lunt, who was asked if he knew all the five men at the bar. Lunt, with front of brass, answered that he did know them all. Here Sir Roland Stanley cried out, “Which is Sir Roland Stanley?” Whereupon, to testify how intimately the informer was acquainted with them, he pointed out Sir Thomas Clifton! Great was the outcry in the court, which did not lessen when the judge bid Lunt take one of the officers’ white staves, and lay it on the head of Sir Roland Stanley, and he again indicated the wrong man. Being asked which was Sir Thomas Clifton, he unhesitatingly pointed out Sir Roland Stanley. Having thus shown his accuracy, he was allowed to proceed with his narrative of the plot. His evidence asserted that in 1689 one Dr. Bromfield, a Quaker, was sent by the Lancashire gentry to the court at St. Germains, to request King James to send them commissions, that they might enlist men for his service. Bromfield, being known as a Jacobite agent, it was determined to employ some one less known, and Lunt was pitched upon for the purpose. So, in company with Mr. Threlfall, of Goosnargh, he came over in a vessel which landed at Cockerham, that famous village where the devil dare not come. At the residence of Mr. Tildesley they separated, Threlfall went into Yorkshire to distribute commissions, and Lunt was summoned to attend a midnight meeting of the Lancashire Jacobites, held at the seat of Lord Molyneux, at Croxteth. Here the persons now accused were present, and many others, none of whom Lunt had ever seen before. The commissions were delivered, the health drunk of their Majesties over the water, and some little additional treason talked. At this point in the evidence Sir Roland Stanley remarked how improbable it was that he should accept a commission which might endanger his life and estate from an utter stranger. “But,” cries Lunt, “I brought you with your commission Dr. Bromfield’s letter.” Then the judge said to Sir Roland, “You are answered—that was his credentials;” but did not think fit to say that Lunt had made no mention in his depositions of this circumstance, which was evidently invented on the spur of the moment to confound Sir Roland Stanley. The judge also observed there was no great matter in Lunt not being able to point out the prisoners correctly. Lunt, thus encouraged by Sir Giles Eyre, proceeded with his veracious narrative—swore that the Lancashire gentlemen had given him money to enlist men and buy arms; that he beat up sixty men in London, who were quartered in different parts of the County Palatine; and particularised some persons to whom arms had been sent. In 1691 (about July or August), he was sent to France, to acquaint the Pretender with what his friends had been doing, and to inquire when they might expect him in England. The spring following was named as the happy time when the Stuarts were to be re-established on the English throne. He also named a meeting at Dukenhalgh, when some more commissions were distributed by Mr. Walmsley, one of the accused. Mr. Dicconson now asked Lunt why he had not disclosed the existence of this terrible plot, or why he had revealed it at all. Lunt was evidently prepared for this inquiry, and his retort was prompt and crushing. Some proposals had been made to which he could not assent. Being pressed by the Court to be less reticent, and explain his meaning, he said there was a design to murder King William; that the Earl of Melfort (the Pretender’s friend and minister) had asked him to aid in the assassination; he had consented to do so, but a Carthusian friar, to whom he had revealed it under confession, told him it would be wilful murder if King William were killed, except in open battle, and he had revealed the plot lest his old colleagues should carry out their wicked project.

Such, in brief, was the evidence of Lunt, deviating often from the tenour of his previous depositions, which had been made before he had been under the moulding influences of Aaron Smith, that unscrupulous Jacobite hunter, whose duty it was to manage these little matters, to procure witnesses and favourable juries. Favourable judges were supplied by his betters. And to fully understand the gravity of the prisoners’ position it should be recollected that they could not have the assistance of counsel; their witnesses could not be compelled to attend; they were ignorant of the witnesses to be produced against them; and, until they stood in the dock, had not heard the indictment against them. Every circumstance was in favour of the crown. Lunt’s evidence was corroborated by Womball, a carrier, and one Wilson, who had been branded for roguery, as to the delivery of commissions and arms. Colonel Uriah Brereton (a saddler’s apprentice and common sharper) testified that he had received money from Sir Roland Stanley for the service of King James. This worthy Captain Bobadil being asked if he was not poor and necessitous when he received these gifts, cried out, in true ruffler style, “Poor! That is a question to degrade a gentleman.” The remaining evidence we need not go into, save that of John Knowles, who, having been sworn, declared “by fair yea and nay, he knew nout on’t.”

Then, after short speeches by Stanley and Dicconson, the witnesses for the defence were examined. The first half-dozen made some damaging attacks upon the character of John Lunt, representing him as a mean scoundrel, a bigamist, and a notorious highwayman. Then Lawrence Parsons, his brother-in-law, testified that he had been invited by Lunt to aid him in denouncing the Lancashire gentlemen, but had refused the offer of 20s. per week and £150 at the end, rather than “swear against his countrymen that he knew nothing against.” Mr. Legh Bankes, a gentleman of Gray’s Inn, told how Taafe, an intimate friend of Lunt’s, and who was expected to be a witness for the crown, had been to the wife of Mr. Dicconson, and revealed to her the whole design of Lunt, offering to introduce some friend of the prisoner’s to Lunt, as persons likely to be serviceable in any swearing that might be needed to hang the prisoners. Mr. Bankes was suspicious of this being a trap; but having been introduced to Lunt, that worthy, over a glass of ale, very frankly said that he wanted gentlemen of reputation to back his own evidence, and if Bankes would join he should be well provided for. He produced his “narrative of the plot,” and Taafe read aloud this manuscript, which named several hundreds besides the prisoners. “Why were these not taken up also?” inquired Bankes. Lunt’s answer was, “We will do these people’s business first, and when that hath given us credit, we will run through the body of the nation.” When the next witness arose, Lunt and Aaron Smith must surely have trembled, for it was their old friend Taafe, who, after adding his testimony to Lunt’s villainous character, gave a brief account of that worthy gentleman’s career as a discoverer of plots. How the first one he discovered (it was in Kent) came to nothing, as he had failed to find corroborative evidence; and how he was near failing again from the same cause; how Aaron Smith had edited and improved his original narrative. Lunt wanted Taafe as a witness, complained that the men he had hired to swear were blockish, and of such low caste as to carry little weight. Could Taafe introduce him to some gentleman—(God save the mark!)—willing to perjure his soul, consign innocent men to the scaffold, and receive blood-money from Aaron Smith? Taafe, from some motive not clear, determined to baulk the villany of his fellow-informer, hence the circumstances narrated by Mr. Legh Bankes, whose suspicions of treachery had prevented a full discovery. Taafe had partially opened his mind to the Rev. Mr. Allenson, who had also distrusted him in a similar manner. In Roger Dicconson, brother of the prisoner, he found a bolder and more adventurous spirit. The evidence of Mr. Allenson need not be analysed. He was followed by Mr. Roger Dicconson, who told how he was introduced at a coffee-house in Fetter Lane, by Taafe to Lunt, as a proper person to aid in the plan. Dicconson called himself Howard, a member of the Church of England, willing to join in the plot for a valuable consideration. Lunt said they had gold in for £100,000 a year, and that the informants were to have a third of the forfeited estates. He asked Lunt if he knew Dicconson’s brother, and Lunt, all unconscious that he was sitting face to face with him, replied, “Yes, very well; for he had delivered commissions to Hugh and Roger Dicconson about Christmas!”

Many more witnesses were examined, some of whom established that certain of the prisoners were not in the neighbourhood of Croxteth and Dukenhalgh at the time of the alleged Jacobite meetings at those places; whilst others gave most damaging evidence as to the utter rascality of Lunt and his chief witnesses—Womball, Wilson, and Brereton. The judge, in his summing up, contented himself with saying that the matter deserved great consideration, in which opinion the jury did not agree, for, after a short consultation, and without leaving court, they returned for each prisoner a verdict of Not Guilty. Mr. Justice Eyres then discharged them, with an eulogy upon the merciful and easy Government under which they lived, and advised them to beware of ever entering into plots and conspiracies against it. Lord Molyneux, Sir William Gerard, and Bartholomew Walmsley, Esq., were then put to the bar, but, no witnesses appearing, they were also declared Not Guilty, which gave Mr. Justice Eyres an opportunity for another cynical speech, concluding with these words: “Let me therefore say to you, go and sin no more, lest a worse thing befall you.” As they had just been pronounced innocent, the meaning and fitness of his remarks are somewhat questionable. But if his bias prejudiced him against the prisoners, they would have compensation in the popular satisfaction at their acquittal. Manchester went mad with joy. Lunt and his merry men were pelted out of the town, and only escaped lynching by the intervention of the prisoners’ friends; and all concerned in the prosecution came in for a share of popular hatred. The peril which the Lancashire gentlemen thus strangely escaped was a very great one, but the peril which the country escaped was greater still, for had there been wanting the disaffection of Taafe to his brother rascal Lunt, the courage and address of Roger Dicconson, and the honesty of the Manchester jury, England might have seen a repetition of the atrocities of Titus Oates and William Bedloe; might have seen a bigamist highwayman going from shire to shire and fattening on the blood and ruin of the best of her nobles and gentlemen.

Such will be the impression left on most minds by a candid examination of the proceedings at this remarkable trial as recorded in the volume edited by the Rt. Rev. Alexander Goss, D.D., for the Chetham Society in 1864. It is only fair to add that those who believe in the reality of the “plot” may cite the resolution of the House of Commons (many witnesses on the subject were examined some months after this trial), that there had been a dangerous plot, and that the special assize at Manchester was justifiable. That resolution strikes one as being more political than judicial. A prosecution for perjury against Lunt was abandoned, because it was understood that persistence in it would bring on the prosecutors the weight of the harsh penal laws.

De Quincey’s Highwayman.

“It was, in fact, the skeleton of an eminent robber, or perhaps of a murderer.... It is singular enough that these earlier grounds of suspicion against X. were not viewed as such by anybody until they came to be combined with another and final ground. Then the presumptions seemed conclusive. But by that time X. himself had been executed for a robbery, and had been manufactured into a skeleton by the famous surgeon Cruikshank, assisted by Mr. White and other pupils.”—Thomas de Quincey’s “Autobiographical Sketches,” chap. xiv.

In “The House on the Marsh,” a novel that has had a wide popularity in recent years, the authoress, Miss Florence Warden, has chosen for “hero” a highwayman, or rather burglar, who lives in the style of a country squire, and, having access to the “best houses,” manages to make his position in society contributory to success in the “profession” he has selected. There is a curious parallel to the theme of this story in the life-history of a man who was at one time an inhabitant of Manchester, and whose strange career has already furnished material to Thomas de Quincey and Mrs. Gaskell. More than a century ago there stood—and still stands—at Knutsford a house on the heathside known as the Cann Office. The tenant appeared to be a man of independent fortune, kept horses, joined in the hunting sports of the district, and obtained access to the houses and tables of the neighbouring squires. According to the tradition, he had one night noticed the diamonds of Lady Warburton, and followed her carriage on horse-back, but on coming up with it was disconcerted to hear her say, “Good-night, Mr. Higgins; why did you leave the ball so early?” On another occasion he is said to have noticed in Chester a ladder left accidentally against the wall of a house in one of whose bedrooms he noticed a light. Ascending, he saw a girl in her ball dress take off her jewels, and place them on the dressing-table. As soon as the maid withdrew and the young lady was in bed, Higgins opened the window, and, getting into the room, secured the valuable plunder. A slight noise partially awoke the sleeper, who said, “Oh, Mary, you know how tired I am; can’t you put the things straight in the morning?” and then fell asleep again. If she had awakened and seen him he would certainly have murdered her. Some suspicion that Higgins was not altogether the plain country squire he wished to be supposed may very well have been excited by his occasional absences. It is traditionally stated that his horse’s feet were cased in woollen stockings for his nocturnal expeditions. The murder of Mrs. Ruscombe, an old gentlewoman, at Bristol, caused some noise. The murderer was Higgins. Before the murder was known at Knutsford, in his anxiety to establish an alibi, he put in an appearance at an inn, and made an incautious allusion to it which piqued one of the company, a confirmed newsmonger, who prided himself on having the first intelligence of every event of interest. Suspicion was thus cast upon Higgins. He was arrested at his own residence, but managed to elude the constables, and vanished from the neighbourhood of Knutsford. He played the same rôle of country squire a few months later at French Hay, near Bristol. Thence he removed into Wales, “where he broke open Lady Maud’s house at West Mead.” For this he was tried at Carmarthen, and, notwithstanding that he managed to have a forged respite sent to the Sheriff, he was hanged at Carmarthen on Saturday, 7th November, 1767. He died, we are told, in a very sullen humour, but before he was “turned off” delivered to the officials a letter to the High Sheriff. From this document and the contemporary accounts it appears that the High Sheriff was acquainted with the birth and parentage of Edward Higgins, about which no details are given. His first exploit was that of eloping from the house of his mother with a neighbour’s wife. This was the beginning of “all kinds of wickedness.” He was tried at Worcester, 14th May, 1754, for housebreaking, and was sentenced to transportation. “The day before the transports were sent off from Worcester, his sister came to him early in the morning, and desired to speak with him in a private room; this was refused. She then requested that he might have permission to show her the dungeon; thither they went, and stayed some time in close conference. She had not left the gaol more than half an hour when a farmer who lived near Worcester came in to enquire whether his sister had not been there, ‘for,’ says he, ‘I have been robbed of £14, and I have reason to suspect her, and that she has given the money to her brother.’ The turnkey told him what had passed. Higgins was searched, but nothing was then found. He was brought down to Bristol, put on board the Frisby for Maryland, and delivered, with the other convicts, at Annapolis. The farmer who lost the £14 (as above) came with him from Worcester to Bristol, and when Higgins was stripped on board the transport the farmer’s money was found concealed in the lining of Higgins’ hat; but as it could not be taken from him, the farmer was obliged to be contented with the loss of it.”

By breaking open a shop in Boston he obtained a considerable sum of money, and escaped by a ship sailing for England, to which he thus returned within three months of his transportation. He settled first in Manchester, and afterwards at Knutsford, where he married at the parish church, by special licence, Katherine Birtles, 21st April, 1757. In the licence he is styled yeoman, but in the entries of the baptism of his children he is called Edward Higgins, of Nether Knutsford, gentleman. His fifth child was baptised 11th June, 1764. His letter to the Sheriff concludes with these words:—“As I die an unworthy member of the Church of England, I do not desire your prayers, as you will not receive this till after my death; yet beg for God’s sake (as you are a gentleman of benevolence) you will have some compassion on my poor disconsolate widow and fatherless infants, and as undoubtedly you will often hear my widow upbraided with my past misconduct, I also beg you will vindicate her to all such as not being guilty or knowing of my villany.” His wife remained with him until the end. Higgins was dissected, and his skeleton formed part of the museum of Dr. Charles White, F.R.S., of Manchester. In his collection it was seen by De Quincey, who has left a characteristic account of the visit in his “Autobiographical Sketches.”

In De Quincey’s famous essay on “Murder as One of the Fine Arts,” the professor of homicide tells this grim story about Higgins. “At the time of his execution for highway robbery I was studying under Cruikshank; and the man’s figure was so uncommonly fine that no money or exertion was spared to get into possession of him with the least possible delay. By the connivance of the Under Sheriff he was cut down within the legal time, and instantly put into a chaise-and-four, so that when he reached Cruikshank’s, he was positively not dead. Mr. ——, a young student at that time, had the honour of giving him the coup de grace and finishing the sentence of the law.”

Mrs. Gaskell wrote a sketch—“The Squire’s Tale”—based on the career of Higgins, which appeared in Household Words, and is reprinted in her collected writings. When the Rev. Henry Green was preparing his history of Knutsford he carefully collected all the information that could be found respecting the gentleman highwayman. Edward Higgins deserves some remembrance not only for the strangeness of his career, but for his posthumous influence upon English literature.

Some Lancashire Centenarians.

According to the census of 1891 there were 146 persons enumerated who were returned as being more than 100 years of age. Eleven of these were resident in Lancashire. It may be interesting to compare this with the statements in some of the preceding census reports. Arranged in tabular form, the following results are seen:—

Centenarians returned at each successive census.

In Lancashire, it will be noticed, there has been a marked tendency towards the diminution of reputed centenarians. The general consent of mankind seems to have fixed upon a hundred years as almost the outside limit for the duration of human life. The Hebrews and the Chinese are agreed in this. The Celestials have a quaint way of dividing a life into cycles. From birth to 10 years of age is the opening degree; at 20, youth expired; 30, strength and marriage; 40, officially apt; 50, error knowing; 60, cycle closing; 70, rare bird of age; 80, rusty visage; 90, delayed; 100, age’s extremity. Far more claims to great longevity are made than can be sustained by reasonable evidence, and it should not be forgotten that the burden of proof belongs to those who make these statements. The bulk of mankind do not exceed, and many of them never attain, the Psalmist’s term of three score years and ten, and it is only reasonable that those who claim for themselves or protégés an existence of five or six score should be required to produce adequate evidence in support of their allegations. Curiously enough until the second half of the present century statements of extreme old age appear to have been accepted without doubt or inquiry. In the census report of 1851 a sceptical note was struck, and since then the late Sir G. C. Lewis and Mr. W. J. Thoms—especially the latter—have done useful service by a persistent demand for evidence. Under investigation some cases have proved to be impostures, and others mistakes and self-deceptions.

The historian of the county of Lancaster claims for Ormskirk parish the prevalence of an unusual degree of longevity. In the churchyard there are gravestones over four venerable parishioners, which record that the first of them died at the advanced age of 94, the second at the age of 102, the third at the age of 104, and the fourth at the age of 106 years. Many centenarians, real or supposed, have been connected with Lancashire, and it is more than probable that a rigid investigation at the time would greatly have reduced the number. They are here presented in chronological order, and have been derived from a variety of sources:—

1668.—Dr. Martin Lister, writing to the Royal Society, says that John Sagar, of Burnley, died about the year 1668, “and was of the age (as is reported) of 112.”

1700.—“Here resteth the bodie of James Cockerell, the elder, of Bolton, who departed this lyfe in the one hundredth and sixthe yeare of his age, and was interred here the seventh day of March, 1700” (Whittle’s “Bolton,” p. 429).

1727.—In the diary of William Blundell, of Crosby, under date 21st January, 1727, there is this entry:—“I went to Leverp: and made Major Broadnax a visit, he told me that in March next he will be 108 years of Aige, he has his memory perfectly well, and talks extreamly strongly and heartally without any seeming decay of his spirrits.” This, according to the Rev. T. E. Gibson, was “Colonel Robert Broadneux, at one time gentleman of the Bedchamber to Oliver Cromwell, and afterwards Lieut.-Col. in the Army of King William, died the following January, and was buried in St. Nicholas’ churchyard, Liverpool, where his memorial stone may still be seen. He is there credited with 109 years, which, according to the diarist’s account, is one too many.”

1731.—Timothy Coward, of Kendal, 114.

1735.—James Wilson, of Kendal, 100.

1736.—Roger Friers, of Kendal, 103.

1743.—Mr. Norman, of Manchester, 102.

1753.—Thomas Coward, of Kendal, 114. The following is an inscription on a tombstone in Disley Church:—

“Here Lyeth Interred the

Body of Joseph Watson, Buried

June the third, 1753,

Aged 104 years. He was

Park Keeper at Lyme more

than 64 years, and was ye first

that Perfected the Art of Driving

ye Stags. Here also Lyeth

the Body of Elizabeth his

wife Aged 94 years, to whom

He had been married 73 years.

Reader, take notice, the Longest

Life is Short.”

This Joseph Watson was born at Mossley Common, Leigh, Lancashire, in 1649. Watson was park-keeper to Mr. Peter Legh, of Lyme. About 1710, in consequence of a wager between his employer and Sir Roger Moston, Mr. Watson drove twelve brace of red deer from Lyme Park to Windsor Forest as a present for Queen Anne. He was a man of low stature, fresh complexion, and pleasant countenance. “He believed he had drunk a gallon of malt liquor a day, one day with another, for sixty years; he drank plentifully the latter part of his life, but no more than was agreeable to his constitution and a comfort to himself.” In his 103rd year he killed a buck in the hunting field. He was the father of the Rev. Joseph Watson, D.D., rector of St. Stephens, Wallbrook, London.

1755.—Mr. Edward Stanley, of Preston, was buried in that town 4th January, 1755, at the reputed age of 103. He was one of the Stanleys of Bickerstaffe—the branch of the family that eventually succeeded to the Earldom of Derby. His father was Henry Stanley, the second son of Sir Edward Stanley, of Bickerstaffe.

1757.—James Wilson, of Kendal, 100.

1760.—Elizabeth Hilton, widow, of Liverpool, 121.

1761.—Isaac Duberdo, of Clitheroe, 108. Elizabeth Wilcock, of Lancaster, 104. John Williamson, of Pennybridge, 101. William Marsh, of Liverpool, 111, pavior.

1762.—Elizabeth Pearcy, of Elell, 104. Elizabeth Storey, of Garstang, 103.

1763.—Mr. Wickstead, of Wigan, 108, farmer. Thomas Jackson, of Pennybridge, 104. Mrs. Blakesley, of Prescot, 108. Mr. Osbaldeston, near Whaley, 115.

1764.—James Roberts, of Pennybridge, 113.

1765.—Mr. Glover, of Tarbuck, 104.

1767.—George Wilford, of Pennybridge, 100. William Rogers, of Pennybridge, 105. Thomas Johnson, of Newbiggin, 105.

1770.—Ellin Brandwood, Leigh, 102.

1771.—Nathaniel Wickfield, of Ladridge, 103. Mr. Fleming, of Liverpool, factor, 128. He left a son and a daughter each upwards of a hundred.

1772.—Mr. Jaspar Jenkins, whose death at Enfield in the 106th year of his age is recorded in the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1772, was formerly a merchant of Liverpool.

1778.—John Watson, Limehouse Park (of which he was keeper), 130. Mr. Husan, of Wigan, 109.

1779.—Susan Eveson, Simmondsone, near Burnley, 108.

1780.—William Ellis, of Liverpool, shoemaker, 131. He was seaman in the reign of Queen Anne, and a soldier in the reign of George I. Thomas Keggan, of Liverpool, 107.

1781.—Peter Linford, of Maghall, Liverpool, 107.

1782.—Henry Lord, of Carr, in the Forest of Rossendale, 106. He was a soldier in the service of Queen Anne. Martha Ramscar, of Stockport, 106.

1783.—Thomas Poxton, of Preston, 108. He was formerly a quack doctor. He attended Ormskirk market, twenty miles distant, constantly till within a few years of his death; was healthy and vigorous to the last, and was generally known by the name of Mad Roger. William Briscoe, Park Gate, 101. Mrs. Holmes, Liverpool, 114. She was married at 48 years of age, and had six children.

1784.—George Harding, Manchester, 111. He served as a private soldier in the reigns of Queen Anne, George I., and George II. Matthew Jackson, of Hawkshead, 100. He was married about eighteen months before his death.

1786.—Elizabeth Curril, 100, Liverpool. Jonathan Ridgeway, of Manchester, 100.

1787.—Mrs. Bailey, of Liverpool, 105. She retained her senses to the last, was never bled or took medicine in her life, and read without spectacles. Her mother lived to the age of 116.

1790.—Jane Monks, Leigh, 104. She retained all her faculties till within a few hours of her death, and except for the last five years earned her living by winding yarn. James Swarberick, Nateby, 102. Sarah Sherdley, Maghull, 105. She was an idiot from her birth.

1791.—Jane Gosnal, 104, Liverpool. Frances Crossley, 109, Rochdale, widow.

1793.—Mrs. Boardman, 103, Manchester, widow.

1794.—William Clayton, Livesey, Blackburn, 100. The summer before his death he was able to join in the harvest work, about which time he had a visit from a man of the same age who then lived about ten miles distant, and who said he had walked the whole way. Elizabeth Hayes, Park Lane, Liverpool, 110. Mrs. Seal, 101, an inmate of an almshouse in Bury. In the earlier part of her life she was remarkable for her industry, but had been many years bedridden, and supported principally by parish relief.

1795.—Mrs. Hunter, 115, Liverpool. Roger Pye, 102, Liverpool. Christian Marshall died at Overton, near Lancaster, aged 101.

1796.—Anne Bickersteth, 103, Barton-in-Kendal, widow of Mr. Bickersteth, surgeon of that place. She retained her bodily and mental faculties till her death, and walked downstairs from her bedroom to her parlour the day she died. William Windness, 110, Garstang. Anne Prigg, 104, Bury.

1797.—Jane Stephenson, 117, Poulton-in-the-Fylde.

1798.—Richard Hamer, Hunt Fold, Lancaster, 102.

1799.—Mrs. Owen, 107, Liverpool. John M’Kee, 100, Liverpool, joiner. Mary Jones, 105, Liverpool, workhouse. Margaret Macaulay, of Manchester, aged 101. She was a well-known beggar.

1807.—Mrs. Alice Longworth, Blackburn, aged 109. She retained the use of her faculties till her last illness, and never wore spectacles. Her youngest daughter is upwards of 60.—(Athenæum, September, 1807).

1808.—Mary Ralphson, died at Liverpool, 27th June, 1808, aged 110. She was born January 1st, 1698, O.S., at Lochaber, in Scotland. Her husband, Ralph Ralphson, was a private in the Duke of Cumberland’s army. Following the troops, she attended her husband in several engagements in England and Scotland. At the battle of Dettingen she equipped herself in the uniform and accoutrements of a wounded dragoon who fell by her side, and, mounting his charger, regained the retreating army, in which she found her husband, and returned with him to England. In his after campaigns she closely followed him like another “Mother Ross,” though perhaps with less courage, and more discretion. In her late years she was supported by some benevolent ladies of Liverpool. A print of her was published in April, 1807, when she was resident in Kent Street, Liverpool.

1808.—There is a print without date of “David Stewart Salmon, aged 105, the legal Father of two Indian Princes of the Wabee Tribe in America. A resident of Cable Street, Liverpool. After serving his King and Country upwards, of sixty years six months and five days of which time was spent without ever leaving his Majesty’s Service, is now allowed 2s. 6d. per week from the Parish of Liverpool. He is the last survivor of the Crew of the Centurion when commanded by Commodore Anson, with whom he sail’d round the World.”

1808.—Mr. Joe Rudd, writing from Wigan, June 10th, 1808, forwards the following contribution to Mr. Urban (Gentleman’s Magazine, vol. lxxviii., pt. ii., 576):—“I request you to record the following narrative of the longevity of one family in the town of Wigan, Lancashire, where Old Anne Glave died in The Scholes a few years since at the advanced age of 105. She was a woman well skilled in herbs, and obtained her livelihood by gathering them in their proper seasons. She retained her faculties till the last, and followed her trade of herb-gathering within a short time of her death. Anne was the daughter of Barnard Hartley, who lived 103 years, and lies buried in Wigan churchyard. Anne had several children, four of whom are now living at Wigan in good health, viz., Anne, aged 91; Catherine, aged 82; Sarah, 75; and Elizabeth, 72. Old Anne Glave buried her husband, Robert, at the age of 84. He was a fisherman, and famous for making rhymes.” Jemina Wilkinson, Blackpool, aged 106. She retained her senses, and was able to walk without assistance within a few hours of her death.—(Athenæum, October, 1808).

1809.—Mrs. Mary Leatherbarrow, of Hulme, died at the age of 106.

1817.—Catharine Prescott, who died in George Leigh Street, June 2nd, at the reputed age of 108, was a notable character in her day. It was said of her that she learned to read—and that without spectacles—partly at the Lancasterian School and partly at Bennet Street School after she had passed her hundredth year.

1818.—Mary Harrison, who, in 1818, was living at Bacup, was said to be 108 years old.

1826.—Mrs. Sarah Richardson, a widow, who resided at the Mount, Dickenson Street, died at the reputed age of 101. She was a native of Warrington, and her descendants numbered 153.

1841.—John Pollitt, aged 52, and George Pollitt, brothers, were interred at Rusholme Road Cemetery, November 16th. They were followed to the grave by their father, William Pollitt, of Dyche Street, who had attained the age of 104, accompanied by his great-great-grandson aged 21 years.

1848.—An old woman living in Burn Street, Chorlton-upon-Medlock, 110 years old, and in the possession of all her faculties. She perfectly recollected the coronation of George III., which took place when she was 24 years old.

1859.—Betty Roberts was said to be living in Liverpool in 1859, and her birth was asserted to have taken place at Northrop, in Flintshire, in 1749. Her son, aged 80, was living with her.

1877.—In 1877 there appeared a notice of John Hutton, who was born at Glasgow 18th August, 1777, and was apprenticed at Carlisle in 1793 as a handloom weaver, but came to Manchester in 1796, where he served the remainder of his apprenticeship, and was married in December, 1797, by Parson Brookes. He became an employé of the firm of Thomas Hoyle and Son, of Mayfield, and by his skill in mixing became of considerable importance. In particular, he had a secret for the preparation of China blue, which was entrusted to his son, who died at a good age, without having left a successor to the secret. Messrs. Hoyle’s chemist, it is said, who knew all about the theory of the dye, failed to get the exact tint that was requisite, and a joking suggestion was made to the old man that his services were still in demand. He took the observation seriously, proceeded to the dyehouse, where under his directions the brew was a conspicuous success. He was of medium size, cheerful temperament, and habits of great regularity. He took little interest in any matters outside the narrow limits of his household and the works. He was not a teetotaller, but was exceedingly sober and steady. He completed his hundredth year 18th August, 1877. His senses were somewhat dulled, and the arcus senilis was well marked. On his centenary he was photographed in a group with his daughter, grandson, great-grandson, and great-great-grandson. His fellows of the Mayfield Works entertained him at Worsley, and in a bath-chair he was enabled to enjoy the gardens.

1879.—Sarah Warburton, who died at Accrington in 1879, was reputed to have been born February 2nd, 1779. At the old folks’ tea-party during the Christmas before her death she received the prize of a new dress-piece for singing a song of her juvenile days!

1881.—The case of the “Crumpsall Centenarian” excited some interest in 1881. She died October 8th, 1881, and was reported to be in the 108th year of her age. Jane Pinkerton, whose maiden name was Fleming, according to the testimony of the entry in a family Bible, in which the names of her brothers and sisters were also entered, was born 16th June, 1774, within a few miles of Paisley, in Scotland. When she was a girl her father took his family to Ireland. She married James Pinkerton, a schoolmaster in the neighbourhood of Belfast, and at his death she came to reside with a married daughter at Lower Crumpsall. She is buried in the Wesleyan Cemetery, Cheetham Hill.

This list is not a complete one, and doubtless many additions, some in quite recent years, might be made to it. The reader will notice that with few exceptions, amongst which is the remarkable case of John Hutton—there is for the most part an entire absence of evidence. The ages stated have evidently been taken down from the statements of the old men and women, with little or no attempt to verify their correctness. It may be useful to cite two cases that were adequately investigated. The case of Miss Mary Billinge, of Liverpool, is instructive as showing the possibilities of error. She was said to have been 112 years old at the time of her death, 20th December, 1863, and a certificate of baptism was obtained which stated the birth of Mary Billinge, daughter of William Billinge and Lydia his wife, on the 24th May, 1751. It was known that she had a brother named William and a sister named Anne, who are buried at Everton. A reference to the registers showed that these were entered as the children of Charles and Margaret Billinge, and a further search revealed the name of Mary, born 6th November, 1772, and therefore only a little over 91 at the time of her death. The certificate relied upon to prove her centenarian age was that of an earlier Mary Billinge.

The other instance is that of Mrs. Martha Gardner, who died at 85, Grove Street, Liverpool, March 10th, 1881, at the age of 104. This will be best given in the words of Mr. W. J. Thoms, who, after the date of her death, says:—“Some two or three years ago Dr. Diamond kindly forwarded to me a photograph, taken shortly after the completion of her hundredth year, by Mr. Ferranti, of Liverpool. I afterwards received from two different sources evidences as to the birth of this very aged lady, whose father, a very eminent Liverpool merchant, has duly recorded in the family Bible the names, dates of birth, and names of godfathers and godmothers of his fourteen children, who were all baptised at home, but whose baptisms are duly entered in the register of baptisms of the Church of St. Peter, Liverpool. Mrs. Gardner having a great objection to being made the subject of newspaper notices or comments, I advisedly refrained from bringing her very exceptional age under the notice of your readers during her lifetime. I may add that she was a cousin of an early and valued contributor to Notes and Queries, the Rev. John Wilson, formerly president of Trinity College, Oxford, and on his death on July 10th, 1873, Mrs. Gardner took out letters of administration to his estate, and her correspondence, she being then in her 97th year, rather astonished the legal gentleman with whom she had to confer on that business.”

What was the First Book Printed in Manchester?

The answer to this question is not so obvious as might at first be expected. There were in the Lancashire of Elizabeth’s days two secret presses. From one there issued a number of Roman Catholic books. This was probably located at Lostock, the seat of the Andertons. The other was the wandering printing-press, which gave birth to the attacks of Martin Marprelate upon the Anglican Episcopate. This was seized by the Earl of Derby in Newton Lane, near Manchester. The printers thus apprehended were examined at Lambeth, 15th February, 1588, when Hodgkins and his assistants, Symms and Tomlyn, confessed that they had printed part of a book entitled, “More Work for the Cooper.” “They had printed thereof about six a quire of one side before they were apprehended.” The chief controller of the press, Waldegrave, escaped. In these poor persecuted printers we must recognise the proto-typographers of Manchester. No trace remains of “More Work for the Cooper.” The sheets that fell into the hands of the authorities do not appear to have been preserved. Putting aside the claims of this anti-prelatical treatise, we have to pass from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century. Many tracts and books by local men, and relating to local affairs, were printed before 1719, but that appears to be the date of the first book printed in Manchester. The title page is here reproduced:—“Mathematical Lectures; being the first and second that were read to the Mathematical Society at Manchester. By the late ingenious Mathematician John Jackson. ‘Who can number the sands of the Sea, the drops of Rain, and the days of Eternity?’—Eccles. i., 2. ‘He that telleth the number of the Stars and calleth them all by their Names.’—Psalm cxlvii., 4. Manchester; printed by Roger Adams in the Parsonage, and sold by William Clayton, Bookseller, at the Conduit, 1719.” (Octavo.)

The claims of Jackson’s “Lectures” were stated by the present writer in Notes and Queries (see fourth series, iii., 97, and vii., 64), and in his “Handbook to the Public Libraries of Manchester and Salford.” Some further correspondence appeared in Local Gleanings (vol. i., p. 54), and an extract was given from one of William Ford’s catalogues, which, if accurate, would show that there was a local press at work in 1664. Ford has catalogued a book in this fashion:—“A Guide to Heaven from the Word; Good Counsel how to close savingly with Christ; Serious Questions for Morning and Evening; Rules for the due observance of the Lord’s Day. Manchester, printed at Smithy Door, 1664. 32mo.”

Apparently nothing could be clearer or less open to doubt. After a careful look out for the book, a copy has been secured, and is now in the Manchester Free Library. The title reads:—“A Guide to Heaven from the Word. Good counsel how to close savingly with Christ. Serious Questions for Morning and Evening; and rules for the due observation of the Lord’s Day. John 5, 39. Search the Scriptures. Manchester: Printed by T. Harper, Smithy Door.” (32 mo, pp. 100.) There is no date, but the name of Thomas Harper, printer, Smithy Door, may be read in the “Manchester Directory” for 1788, and the slightest examination of the “Guide to Heaven” will show that its typography belongs to that period. From whence, then, did Ford get the date of 1664? If we turn to the fly-leaf the mystery is explained, for on it we read, “Imprimatur, J. Hall, R.P.D. Lond. a Sac. Domest. April 14 1664.” The book, in fact, was first printed in London in 1664, and Thomas Harper, when issuing it afresh, reprinted the original imprimatur, which Ford then misconstrued into the date of the Manchester edition. The book is entered as Bamfield’s “Guide to Heaven” in Clavell’s “Catalogue,” and the publisher is there stated to be H. Brome. Either Francis or Thomas Bamfield may have been the author, but the former seems the more likely. Thomas Bampfield—so the name is usually spelled—was Speaker of Richard Cromwell’s Parliament of 1658, and he was a member of the Convention Parliament of 1660, and was the author of some treatises in the Sabbatarian controversy. Francis was a brother of Thomas, and also of Sir John Bamfield, and was educated at Wadham College, Oxford, where he graduated M.A. in 1638. He was ordained, but was ejected from the Church in 1662, and died minister of the Sabbatarian Church in Pinner’s Hall. He wrote in favour of the observation of the Saturday as the seventh day, and therefore real Sabbath, and whilst preaching to his congregation was arrested and imprisoned at Newgate, where he died 16th February, 1683-4. His earliest acknowledged writing was published in 1672, and relates to the Sabbath question.

The first book printed in Manchester, so far as the present evidence goes, was Jackson’s “Mathematical Lectures,” but it was the fruit of the second printing-press at work in the town.

Thomas Lurting: a Liverpool Worthy.

Quakerism has a very extensive literature, and is especially rich in books of biography; which are not only of interest from a theological point, but are valuable for the incidental and sometimes unexpected light which they throw upon the history and customs of the past. One of the early Quaker autobiographies is that of Thomas Lurting, a Liverpool worthy, who has not hitherto been included by local writers in the list of Lancashire notables.

Thomas Lurting was born in 1629, and, in all probability, at Liverpool. The name is by no means a common one, but it is a well-known Liverpool name, and many references to its members will be found in Sir James Picton’s “Memorials and Records.”[^[1]] From 1580 to the close of the seventeenth century they appear to have been conspicuous citizens. John Lurting was a councillor and “Merchant ’Praiser” in 1580. A John Lurting was bailiff of the town in 1653; but three years earlier had so little reverence for civic dignity as to style one of the aldermen “a cheating rogue.”

From his own narrative we learn that in 1646, at the age of fourteen, Thomas Lurting was “impressed,” and served in the wars against the Irish, Dutch, and Spaniards. He gives a graphic account of the sea-fight at Santa Cruz in 1657, by our great English admiral Blake, in which the Spaniards came off second-best. At the time of his conversion he was boatswain’s mate on the Bristol frigate. There were two young men on board, who had some conversation with a soldier who had been present at a Quaker’s meeting in Scotland. The soldier soon after left the ship; but what he had said came back to the minds of the young men, and presently they refused to listen to the chaplain, or to take their hats off to the captain, who added to his seafaring functions the quality of a Baptist preacher. The chaplain complimented Lurting as “an honest man and a good Christian,” so long as, in his capacity of boatswain’s mate, he persecuted the two youthful Quakers. Great was the amazement when Lurting joined himself to those despised children of light. The chaplain and the captain in vain tried to convince him of the errors of his new theological associates. The Quakers increased, until instead of two there were fourteen in the ship. There was an epidemic of sickness, and the Quakers were known by the care they took of each other and their brotherly sympathy. When he got well the captain allowed Lurting to have his old cabin—which had the reputation of being haunted—both for a sleeping room and for a meeting-place.

At this time the Quaker mariners did not object to take their share of fighting, but when going into an engagement at Barcelona, it came into Lurting’s mind that it was unlawful to slay. The Quakers having decided to “bear their testimony” against war, had an unpleasant time. Off Leghorn, in 1655, the preacher-captain drew his sword to run one of them through.

Thomas Lurting was several times impressed after the Restoration of Charles II., but he refused either to do the King’s work or eat the King’s victual. On one of these occasions, after five days’ fasting, he was put ashore.

But the most remarkable incident in Lurting’s life was one which occurred when, after he had become a “harmless Christian,” he was mate of a ship that was captured by an Algerine pirate. The English sailors, following Lurting’s instructions, managed to turn the tables and make the Turks their prisoners; but, instead of selling the pirates for slaves, as they had the opportunity to do, they put them on shore not far from an Algerine town. The pirates marvelled greatly at this unexpected treatment, and the captives and ex-captives took an affectionate farewell of each other. Lurting’s account of this remarkable transaction was written at Liverpool in 1680, and was printed in George Fox’s “To the Great Turk and his King, at Algiers.” Of this tract there is a copy in the Midgley Library, at Manchester (Vol. 16, Tract 7), and it is reprinted in the “Doctrinal Books of George Fox” (London, 1706, p. 778). Lurting’s letter to the founder of the Society of Friends is sufficiently curious to be worth quoting in full:—

“Of George Pattison’s taking the Turks about

the 8th Month, 1663.

Dear Friend,

Thine I have received: In Answer to thy request, I have given thee an Account as well and as near as I can; but as to the exact time I cannot, for I have not my Books. I was George Pattison’s Mate, and coming from Venice, being near a Spanish Island called May-York,[^[2]] we were Chased by a Turkish Ship or Patah, as sometimes before we had been, and thinking by our Vessels well Sailing, might escape: But Providence Ordered it So, That by carrying over-much Sail, some of our Materials gave way, by which means the said Turk came up with us, and commanded the Master on Board, who accordingly went with four Men more, leaving me and three Men, and a Boy on Board our Ship; and so soon as our Men came on Board the Turk, they took them all out of the Boat, and came about 14 Turks in our Boat. All which time I was under a very great Exercise in Spirit, not so much for my self, because I had a secret Hope of Relief; but a great Stress lay upon me, for the Men in this very Juncture of time; for all Hope of outward Appearance being then gone; the Master being on board of the Turk, and four more, and the Turks just coming on Board, I being as one, even as if I were or were not, only desiring of the Lord for Patience in such an Exercise, and going to the Vessel-side, to see the Turks come in, the Word of Life, run through me, Be not afraid, for all this thou shalt not go to Algier. And I having formerly good Experience of the Lords doing upon several such like Occasions, as in times of War, I believed what the Lord did say in me: At this all kind of Fear was taken from me, and I received them as a Man might his Friend; and they were as Civil, so shewing them all parts of the Vessel, and what she was laden with withal, then I said to them that were our Men; Be not afraid, for I believe for all this we shall not go to Algier, but let me desire you, as you have been willing to obey me, so be as willing to obey the Turks. For by our so doing I saw we got over them, for when they saw our great Diligence, it made them careless of us, I mean, in securing of us; So when they had taken some small Matter of what we were laden withal, some went on Board their own Ship again, and some staid with us, which were about Eight. Then began I to think of the Master and the other Four, which were in the Turks ship; for as for my self and the other with me, I had no fear at all; Nay, I was far from it, That I said to one then, Were but the Master on Board, and the rest, if there were twice so many Turks, I should not fear them; So my earnest Desire was to the Lord, That he would put it into their Hearts, to send him on Board with the rest, and good was the Lord in answering, for it was a Seal, to what he before spoke through me. As soon as the Master was on Board with the rest, all manner of Fear was off me, as to my going to Algier, and some said to me, I was a strange Man, I was afraid before I was taken, but now I was taken, I was not; my answer was, I now believe I shall not go to Algier, and if you will be ruled by me, I will act for your Delivery, as well as my own. But as yet I saw no way made, for they were all Arm’d, and we without Arms. Now we being altogether, except the Master, I began to reason with them, What if we should overcome the Turks, and go to May-York? At which they very much rejoyced; and one said, I will Kill One or Two, another said, I will cut as many of their Throats, as you will have me; this was our Mens Answer. At which I was much troubled, and said unto them, If I knew any of them that offered to touch a Turk, I would tell the Turks my self. But said to them; If you will be rul’d, I will act for you, if not, I will be still; to which they agreed to do, what I would have them. Then said I, if the Turks bid you do any thing, do it without grumbling, and with as much Diligence and Quickness as you can, for I see that pleases them, and that will cause them to let us be together: To which they agreed.

Then I went to the Master, who was a Man of a very bold Spirit, and told him our Intents; whose answer to me was, If we offered to rise, and they overcame us, we had as good be burnt alive, the which I knew very well. But I could get him no way to adhere to me, in that he being fearful of Blood-shed; for that was his Reason: Insomuch, that at last I told him we were resolved, and I question’d not to do it without one Drop of Blood spilt, and I believ’d that the Lord would prosper it, by Reason, I could rather go to Algier, than to kill a Turk: So at last he agreed to this, to let me do what I would, provided we killed none: At that time there being still two Turks lying in the Cabin with him: So that he was to lie in the Cabin, that by his being there they should mistrust nothing, which accordingly he did. And having bad weather, and lost the Company of the Man of War; the Turks seeing our Diligence, made them careless of us.

So the second Night, after the Captain was gone to sleep, I perswaded one to lie in my Cabin, and so one in another, till at last it raining very much, I perswaded them all down to sleep; and when asleep, got their Arms in Possession. Then said I to the Men of our Vessel: Now have we the Turks at our Command; no Man shall hurt any of them, for if you do, I will be against you: But this we will do, now they are under, we will keep them so, and go to May-York. So when I had ordered some to keep the Doors, if any should come out, straightly charging the Spilling of no Blood; and so altered our Course for May-York the which in the Morning we were fair by: So my Order was to our Men, if any offer’d to come out, not to let out above one at a time. And in the Morning one came out, expecting to have seen their own Country, but on the contrary, it was May-York. Now, said I to our Men, be careful of the Door, for when he goes in, we shall see what they will do. And as soon as he told them we were going towards May-York, they instead of Rising, fell all to crying, for their Hearts were taken from them. So they desired they might not be Sold; the which I promised they should not. So soon as I had pacified them, then I went in to the Master, he not yet knowing what was done, and so he told their Captain what we had done, how that we had over-come his Men, and that we were going for May-York. At which unexpected News he Wept, and desired the Master not to Sell him; the which he promised he would not. Then we told the Captain we would make a Place to hide them in, where the Spaniards should not find them; at which they were very glad, and we did accordingly. So when we came in, the Master went on Shoar, with Four more, and left me on Board with the Turks, which were Ten. And when he had done his Business, not taking Product, lest the Spaniards should come and see the Turks. But at Night an English Master came on Board, being an Acquaintance; and after some Discourse, we told him if he would not betray us, we would tell him what we had done; but we would not have the Spaniards to know it, lest they should take them from us; The which he promis’d, but broke it; and would fain have had Two or Three of them, to have brought them for England; but we saw his end; And when he saw he could not prevail, he said they were worth Two or Three Hundred Pieces of Eight a Piece; Whereat, both the Master and I told him, if they would give many Thousands they should not have One, for we hoped to send them home again. So he look’d upon us as Fools, because we would not Sell them; the which I would not have done for the whole Island. But contrary to our Expectations, he told the Spaniards, who threatned to take them from us: But so soon as we heard thereof, we called out all the Turks, and told them they must help us, or the Spaniards would take them from us. So they resolvedly helped us, and we made all haste to run from the Spaniards, the which pleased the Turks very well. So we put our selves to the Hazard of the Turks, and being taken again, to save them.

So we continued about six or seven days, not being willing to put into any Port of Spain, for fear of losing the Turks. We let them have all their liberty for four days, till they made an attempt to rise, the which I foresaw, and prevented without any harm. I was very Courteous to them, at the which some of our men grumbled, saying, I had more care of the Turks than them; My Answer was, They are Strangers, I must treat them well. At last, I told the Master it might do well to go to the Turks Coast, for there it was more likely to miss their Men of War than where we were; and also it might fall out so, that we might have an Opportunity to put the Turks on Shoar: To which the Master agreed. And in two days we were near the Turks Shoar, at a place called Cape Hone, about Fifty Miles from Algier, as the Turks told us. So when we came about six Miles from the Shore it fell calm, and I had very much working in my mind, about getting them ashore.

At last I went to the Master, and told him, I had a great desire to put the Turks on Shore, but how I knew not; for to give them the Boat, they might go and get Men and Arms, and so take us again; and to put half on Shoar, they would raise the Country and surprize us when we came with the rest. But if he would let me go, and if three more would go with me, I would venture to put them on Shoar; to which he consented.

So then I spoke to the men, and there were two more, and my self and a Boy took in the ten Turks all loose, and went about six miles and put them on Shore in their own Country, within about four miles of Two Towns which they knew. Withal, we gave them about fifty Padas of Bread and other Necessaries to Travel with. They would fain have enticed us to go to the Towns, telling us we should have Wines, and many other things: As to their parts, I could have ventured with them. They all embraced me very kindly in their Arms when they went ashore. They made one Rising in the Boat when going ashore, the which I prevented; and we parted with a great deal of love.

When we came home to England, the King came to the Vessels side, and enquired an Account, the which the Master gave him. So this is as near as I can certifie thee; I have writ thee more at large to give thee the whole as it was; but thou mayst take what is the most material, and so I rest thine in that which can do good for evil, which ought to be the practice of all true men.

Liverpoole, the 30th of the fifth Month, 1680.

Thomas Lurting.”

After a stormy manhood Thomas Lurting had a peaceful old age. Part of his well-earned leisure was devoted to the preparation of an autobiography, which appeared in 1710, with the following quaint title:—“The Fighting Sailor turned peaceable Christian; manifested in the convincement and conversion of Thomas Lurting. With a short relation of many great Dangers, and wonderful Deliverances, he met withal. First written for private satisfaction, and now published for general service.” This tract, sometimes in an abridged form, has been several times reprinted, and there were editions in 1711, 1720, no date, 1766, 1801 (Leeds), 1811, 1813, 1820, and 1842.

Thomas Lurting died 30th First Month, 1713. His corpse was taken to the Friends’ Meeting House at Horsleydown, Southwark, where a funeral sermon was preached on the occasion. The body was then interred at the Friends’ Burial-ground, Long Lane, Bermondsey. He had been a widower for some years previously, his wife, Eleanor, who was of Rotherhithe, having died 13th of First Month, 1708-9, aged 65 years.

However much faith may vary and forms of belief change, men will always respect those who listen to the voice of conscience, and obey that inward monitor when its behests bring scorn and persecution. The Quakers had the true martyr-spirit, and would not abate a single iota of their testimony either for the fear or the favour of man. In Lurting’s narrative we see the plain, straightforward character of the man. There is no evidence of self-consciousness to mar the picturesque force of the essentially heroic quality of his deeds. Liverpool can boast of some great names, but let her cherish the name of her Quaker hero, “the Fighting Sailor turned peaceable Christian.”

Footnotes:

[1]. We append a few short notices of this family, in chronological order.

1333-1345. In the time of Richard de Bury, Bishop of Durham, W. Lurtyng, of Chester, is mentioned. See 31st Report of Record Office, p. 82.

The following are extracts from the “Liverpool Municipal Records”:—

1581. On the 21st August, John Lyrting, residing in Juggler Street, Liverpool, was assessed for a “Taxation or Levy at the sum of xvii^d.”—the highest charge in the street being 2s. 6d., and the lowest 4d.—ii., 218.

1617. Thomas Lurting, Juggler Street.—ii., 827.

1628, 7th October. “Item, wee prsent Thomas Lurtinge for switchinge Nicholas Rydinge wth a sticke.”—iii., 63.

1636/7. Nich Lurting first in jury.—iii., 177.

1644. John Lurting, “saler,” burgess of Liverpool.—iii., 359.

1644 and 1649. Peter Lurting and Thomas Lurting, freemen (iii., 361). Also John Lurting, Smith, Wm. Lurting de Cestr, Wm. Lurting, Smith, and Robert Lurting.

1651. “Tho. Lurting, for a Tussle upon Tho^s. Hoskins, iiis. iiiid.”—iii., 506.

1663-4. Peter Lurting, Mayor.

1672. Peter Lurting, tenant of Godscroft, 1s. rent; Rich. Lurting, of a smithy at Water Side, 5s.; Rich. Lurting, Castle Hill, 13s. for 13 yards front.

[2]. Majorca.

Kufic Coins found in Lancashire.

In the great find of coins at Cuerdale in North Lancashire, besides a single Byzantine piece there were several Kufic coins, along with some of North Italy, about a thousand French and two thousand eight hundred Anglo-Saxon pieces. In these coins, and in those found over the whole of Northumbria are to be seen the evidences of the active commercial intercourse that even in the pre-historic ages prevailed between the Eastern world and the people of the North of Europe, and especially those dwelling on the shores of the Baltic. This has been abundantly proved by the numerous archæological discoveries made from time to time.[^[3]]

Whilst Scandinavia was still in the Stone and Bronze stages of the development of civilisation, merchants came to the Baltic for furs, tin, and the yellow amber so highly prized as an ornament by the oriental women. Indeed Oppert has shown that ten centuries before the Christian era the Assyrians had at least indirect communication with the Baltic shores, the only locality known to the ancient world where the yellow amber could be procured. The references to amber in Homer and Hesiod have not passed without dispute, but the discoveries of Greek coins in various parts leave little or no doubt as to the existence of commercial routes, which went from the Black Sea, by the Dnieper, the Bug and the Dniester, to gain the basin of the Niemen and of the Vistula, and thence spread to the Baltic. The amber commerce in the hands of the Milesians and the Greeks found various routes. The Roman women were as passionately partial to amber ornaments as their sisters of the East, and there is sufficient testimony as to the commercial intercourse of Rome with the barbarians of the North.

The Arabs, although in the Middle Ages they had the monopoly of the trade, were not its originators, but merely continued an intercourse that had existed from remote antiquity. The mediæval geographers had very little precise knowledge; but in the Mappa Mundi of the tenth century, in the British Museum, the parts of northern Europe indicated with the fewest misconceptions are the countries of the amber trade. The rapid conquest of western Asia by the Arabs was followed by those internal dissensions which led to the formation of independent kingdoms. The Samanides, who reigned in Persia and dominated the shores of the Caspian Sea, were the principal cultivators of the North trade. The Arabs, if they had little taste for maritime commerce, were admirably adapted to be the leaders of great caravans, by which the riches of the East were spread into far lands. From Egypt they went across the Sahara to Nigritia, from whence they brought gold, ivory, and slaves. Passing through Persia and Cashmere they worked in the direction of India. Crossing the immense steppes of Tartary, they entered China by the province of Shen-si. Their caravans to Europe passed by Armenia on the south, and by Bokhara and Khorassan on the east. There were great fairs at Samarcand, Teheran, Bagdad, and other places. The merchants directed their course to the Caspian, and halted at Derbend before ascending the Volga. The itinerary of these pilgrims of commerce can be reconstructed from the Kufic coins and accompanying ornaments that have been found at Kazan, Perm, Tula, Moscow, Smolensk, Novgorod, St. Petersburg, and other localities. The finds of Arabic moneys in the Russian Empire have occurred almost exclusively in the country watered by the Volga, which was the line of communication for the Arabs with the Slavs and Scandinavians of the Middle Ages. The shores of Germany, Lithuania, and Sweden were visited. The most northerly discoveries of Kufic coins have been by the river Angermann, which empties itself in the Gulf of Bothnia. The islands of Gothland, Oland, and Bornholm appear to have been the centre of this commercial activity. Lithuania, Denmark, and Poland, especially the latter, have also yielded to the antiquarian investigator many evidences of intercourse with the Arabs. On the coasts of Pomerania and along the course of the Oder Kufic coins have been found, the southern limit being apparently in Silesia.

Worsaae in speaking of some silver ornaments with a triangular pattern of three or four points, also found at Cuerdale, says “that the discovery of so many coins of this class in Russia, from the Caspian and the Black Sea up to the shores of the Baltic, sufficiently proves that from the eighth until the eleventh century there existed a very lively intercourse by trade between the East and the northern parts of Europe.”[^[4]]

The Vikings, who are usually regarded as simply pirates, had their share in this commerce. From the East came rich fabrics, ornaments and vases, and their bearers carried back in return ermines, furs, slaves, and, above all, amber, which whilst valued as an ornament was also credited with wonderful powers of preserving the health of the wearer. This commerce did not have so much social or political result as might have been expected from four centuries of activity. The grave events alike in Asia and Europe which followed the fall of the Samanides interrupted its peaceful course, and before it could fall again into the old tracks there came the tempestuous interlude of the first Crusade.

From this it will be seen that the occurrence of Kufic coins in the north of England is one of the evidences of the activity of the Danes, and of their commercial intercourse with the nations of the East.

Footnotes:

[3]. For further details on the commerce of the Arabs, and especially as to the extended currency of Kufic coins, J. J. A. Worsaae’s “Danes in England,” 1852; Ernest Babelon’s “Du Commerce des Arabes,” 1882; Le Bon’s “La Civilisation des Arabes,” 1884; may be consulted.

[4]. “Remarks on the Antiquities found at Cuerdale,” p. 2.

Newspapers in 1738-39.

It may not be uninteresting to describe some of the oldest surviving fragments of Lancashire newspapers which were formerly in the collection of Sir Thomas Baker, and are now, with many others, in the Manchester Free Library. After a fragment of one leaf we have “The Lancashire Journal: with the history of the Holy Bible.” Monday, October 16th, 1738. Num. xvi. The printer and publishers are thus set forth:—“Manchester: printed and sold by John Berry at the Dial near the Cross, and Sold by Mr. Ozly at the White-Lyon in Warrington, Mr. Sears at the White-Lyon in Liverpool, Mr. Gough at the Spread Eagle in Chester, Mr. Maddock, Bookseller in Namptwich, Mr. Kirkpatrick in Middlewich, Mr. Davis, Bookseller in Preston, Mr. Sidebottom at the Sun and Griffin in Stockport, Mrs. Lord in Rochdale, Mr. Hodgson, Bookseller in Halifax, Mr. Rockett, Bookseller in Bradford, Mr. Bradley, Peruke-maker in Wakefield; at which places also are taken in all sorts of advertisements to be inserted in this Paper at Two Shillings and Sixpence Each.” There is, after the fashion of the time, very little local news, the object of these early journals being to tell the people what was going on at a distance. We hear (October 16th) of the offence given by the “French strollers” in attempting to perform a play in their own language at the Haymarket. The “patriots” were so riotous in their resentment that “the encouragers of these French Vagabonds, durst not in any Coffee-House or Place where the most Polite resort, either Publickly avow their Sentiments, or declare their Resentment.” From Bristol there is news of rioting by the colliers of Kingswood, as a practical objection to a reduction of wages, from sixteen to twelve pence per day.

The next relic is The Lancashire Journal, published by John Berry, at the Dial, in Manchester, Monday, July 30th, 1739. No. 57. The first or leading article sets forth the intention of the managers to “introduce” the journals “with a short Essay, Letter, or Discourse, on some useful Subject, Art or Science,” if they can do it without leaving out any “material Paragraph of News.” After a column of foreign affairs, we have an account from “Exon” of one William Wood, who was in the County Ward for £700 at the suit of the King. After having made his chamber-mates drunk, he fastened a rope to the window, lowered himself down near thirty feet, and then by the aid of a scaling-ladder got into a field and so away. “Last Wednesday a Gentlewoman, aged 87, who lives in Mount Street, Grosvenor Square, was married at St. George’s Chapel, near Hyde Park Corner, to a young Gentleman of 23. The Bride was with difficulty led into the Chapel, and was so much fatigued with standing till the ceremony was over, that the Minute they were out of the Chapel they were obliged to go into a Tavern to get something to revive her exhausted spirits.” Then we learn that at the Old Bailey twenty-seven prisoners were tried, of whom two were sentenced to be hanged, and thirteen to be transported, whilst twelve were acquitted. Some more paragraphs of the same nature show how ineffectual were the sanguinary laws which condemned men to death for slight offences. In one of these figures “Francis Trumbles the Quaker, who was to be hung for robbing Mr. Brow on the highway.” “Last week died in Water Lane, Fleet Street, one Anne Deacon, an elderly woman, who used to ask Alms at Church Doors and elsewhere, in whose rooms after her death were found 100 guineas, £35 in silver, and a bond of £150 on a considerable tradesman.” There is a good deal more of foreign news, and the number terminates with two advertisements, one only being local, which offers an apothecary’s shop, near the Exchange, “to be Sold or Lett. * * Enquire, for further particulars of Mrs. Margaret Dickenson, at the Turk’s Head, in Manchester.” No. 61, August 27th, 1739, opens with a dissertation on the figure of the earth, followed by an account of one of the Dublin Incorporated Society’s English Protestant Working Schools, then some foreign news, of which our forefathers would appear to have been very fond. This number is almost entirely filled with paragraphs relating to our differences with Spain, diplomatic and martial. We have also news of the siege of Belgrade, and “that the Grand Vizer has ordered a vast quantity of scaling-ladders to be made, which looks as if he intended to take Belgrade by storm.” From Cork we have the news that Matthew Buckinger died there August 24th. Buckinger was born without hands or feet, and his performances in penmanship were certainly wonderful under the circumstances. “The King has ordered the two Hazard tables at Kensington to be suppressed.” Two advertisements conclude this number—one of a horse stolen or strayed from Cross Hall Park, near Ormskirk; the other of Miller’s “Gardeners’ Dictionary” and Chambers’s “Cyclopædia,” books on sale by Mr. Newton and Mr. Hodges, booksellers in Manchester. The journal ends, “Manchester: Printed by John Berry, at the Dial, near the Cross, and sold by Mr. Nichison, at the White Lyon, in Warrington; Mr. Sears, at the White Lyon, in Liverpool; Mrs. Gough, at the Spread Eagle, in Chester; Mr. Maddock, bookseller, in Namptwich; Mr. Kirkpatrick, in Middlewich; Mr. Davis, in Preston; Mr. Sidebotham, in Stockport; Mr. Rathbone, in Macclesfield; Mr. Foster, in Bolton; Mrs. Lord, in Rochdale; Mr. Hodgson, bookseller, in Halifax; Mr. Rockett, bookseller, in Bradford; Mr. Bradley, peruke maker, in Wakefield; at which places also are taken in all sorts of advertisements to be inserted in this paper, at two shillings and sixpence each.”

Sir Thomas Baker was also the possessor of three numbers of another early Manchester paper. Whitworth’s “Manchester Magazine, with the History of the Holy Bible.” Tuesday, January 16th, 1738-9. No. 107 is a small, dingy folio of four pages. Its opening paragraphs are devoted to Muley Abdalah, who, in his abdicating the throne of Morocco, expressed “a great regret that he had cut off but 2,000 heads at most.” We have then a dreadful thunderstorm at Bristol, and a quantity of Court and personal gossip. From “Hawick, in Northumberland, December 14th. This day, died here (aged 105), Mr. William Baxter. He taught school in his youth, afterwards followed malting very closely for above sixty years, and though he lived very freely all that while he was never known to have any disorder but one only, occasioned by a over-discharge of bad liquor, which was carried off by a vomit.” The old gentleman was hearty to the last, and knocked under to “a common fever, which as an Argument of his great vigour terminated in a Phrenzy, and in a week’s Time despatch’d him.” We hear of a wolf breaking loose, which was kept by a gentleman who lives near the vineyard in St. James’s Park, and of the mischief it wrought upon—two milk pails; of an attempted escape from Newgate; and of sundry highway robberies. We have then

“A New Receipt.

Take Homer’s Invention, with Pinder’s high strain,

Theocritus’ pure Nature, Anacreon’s soft vein;

To Virgil’s sound judgment join Ovid’s free air,

And Juvenal’s keen Satyr to Horace’s sneer;

To Spencer’s Description add Milton’s Locution,

And Dryden’s close sentence to Boileau’s conclusion;

Of Antients and Monderns [Moderns] take the Flower I hope,

All these put together make our English Pope.”

Next we have a letter relating a sharp trick of some American-Spaniards, followed by the sage reflection that “its greatly to be lamented that the Isle of Cuba, and some other rich and fertile places of their Empire in this part of the world, is not possest by some more industrious People, who would find a much more laudable, as well as profitable, Imployment than pilfering from their Neighbours.” No. 108, January 23rd, 1738-9: “We hear a Gentleman’s Corpse is in Arrest at an Undertaker’s in the Strand, upon a Judgment and Execution for Debt. It’s to be hop’d the Friends of the Deceased will let the Attorney move the Corpse, have it apprais’d by the Sheriff, and take it in Part of his Bill and Costs.” “On Saturday between Four and Five o’clock, a young Woman, servant at Walthamstow, coming to town, was robb’d near Temple Mill by a Footpad; and, whilst the villain was stripping her, being with his back towards the River, the young Woman push’d him into the River and he was drowned. She is since gone distracted.—On Thursday last the Rev. Dr. William Stukeley, Fellow of the College of Physicians and a great Antiquarian, was marry’d to Miss Gale, sister to Roger Gale, Esq.: a fortune of £10,000.” There is an account of a shock of earthquake felt in Halifax, Huddersfield, and other parts of the West Riding. “We hear from Banbury that a village within a mile of that town no less than eighteen people are gone to be dipped in the salt water for the bite of a mad dog, and that a few days past a young man of the said village, who was bit by a dog about Michaelmas last, died raving mad, though he had been at the salt water for a cure.” “Manchester, January 23rd.—We hear from Bury that the inhabitants of that place have agreed to prosecute at their joint expense any person that shall commit an act of felony there. This is worthy of imitation, for rogues often go unpunished lest the charge thereof should fall upon a single person, which is very unreasonable, because the publick reaps the benefit.” The number concludes with an advertisement of a sale by auction at the Angel, at Manchester. From No. 111, February 13th, 1738-9, excluding most of the foreign news, we glean the following items:—“London, February 6th.—Last week two persons were sent to prison by the Bench of Justices at Hick’s Hall for endeavouring to seduce some manufacturers in the glass trade, in order to send them to Holland, where a glass house is lately set up, and who very much underwork us by having English coals 25 per cent. cheaper than the manufacturers in and about London. But it is to be hoped that the Parliament will take these affairs into consideration.—Yesterday morning a gentleman going in a chair from a tavern in Pall Mall to his lodgings at Knightsbridge was robbed by the two chairmen between Hide Park Gate and Knightsbridge of his watch, money, &c.; then they pull’d him out of the chair and threw him into a ditch, after which they made off.—Last week Thomas Piercy, a blacksmith of Deptford, in Kent, about 25 years of age, was married to Mrs. Brookes, a gentlewoman of a considerable fortune in the same town, aged about 70. This gentlewoman has had four husbands before.—Prices of corn at Manchester: White wheat, per load, from 18s. to 20s.; red wheat, from 15s. to 17s.; barley, from 8s. to 11s.; beans, from 11s. to 12s.; meal, from 13s. to 14s.” There is plenty of talk about the convention with Spain, which need not be repeated. These citations may suffice. They are fair samples of what may be found in the local newspapers of the first half of the eighteenth century. The early Lancashire journalist was a man of many parts. Thus the Lancashire Journal, in December, 1740, is said to be “printed by John Berry, Watchmaker and Printer, at the Dial near the Cross, who makes and Mends all sorts of Pocket Watches, also makes and mends all sorts of Weather Glasses, makes all sorts of Wedding, Mourning, and other Gold Rings, and Earrings, etc., and sell all Sorts of New Fation’d Mettal, Buttons for Coats and Wastcoats, and hath Great Choice of New Fation’d Mettal, Buckles, for Men, Women, and Children, all sorts of Knives, fine Scissors, Razors, Lancits, Variety of Japan’d Snuff Boxes, Violins, Fluts, Flagelets and Musick Books, Box, Ivory, and Horn, Combs, Silk, Purses, Spectacles, Coffee and Chocolate Mills, Wash Balls, Sealing Wax, and Wax Balls for Pips, Correls, Tea Spoons, Fiddle Strings, Spinnet Wire, Naked and Drest Babys,[^[5]] Cards, Cain for Hooping, Bird Cages, etc., with several other sorts of London, Birmingham, and Sheffield, Cutler’s Wares, and variety of Dutch and English Toys. He also sells (notwithstanding what is, has, or may be advertised to the Contrary), the True Daffy’s Elixir, Doctor Anderson Sick Pills, Chymical Drops, being a speedy cure for coughs, colds, and Asthma’s, Doctor Godfreys Cordial for Children, Doctor Bateman’s Drops, Stoughtons Elixir, Hungry Water, Spirits of Scurvy Grass, Flower of Mustard in 3d. Bottles, Oyl of Mustard, and all sorts of Snuffs, at the Lowest Rates.” The variety of his wares has affected both his spelling and his punctuation.

We cannot estimate the feelings of our great-grandfathers as they turned over the leaves of their small paper; but the antiquary of the present day would gladly dispense with a good deal about bashaws and conventions for a little more about those who lived and moved and had their being in this county.

Footnotes:

[5]. This is not a slave trading announcement as the unwary might suppose. “Baby” is an old word for a doll. It has survived in the Lancashire dialect in its more extended meaning of a small image or representation. “Aw’ve a book full of babs” is a phrase in Edwin Waugh’s most famous poem.

A Lancashire Naturalist: Thomas Garnett.

A memorial volume of the late Mr. Thomas Garnett, of Low Moor, Clitheroe, was printed for private circulation, and some notice of it will be of interest to many outside the narrow circle for whom it was originally prepared. Mr. Thomas Garnett was one of three brothers. Mr. Richard Garnett distinguished himself as a philologist, and became an assistant-keeper in the British Museum; Mr. Jeremiah Garnett was for many years the editor of the Manchester Guardian, and Mr. Thomas Garnett settled at Clitheroe, where he passed an active life as a manufacturer, but instead of allowing business to absorb all his attention, he found pleasant and healthful recreation in agricultural and scientific observation. The results are now gathered in this volume—“Essays in Natural History and Agriculture, by the late Thomas Garnett, of Low Moor, Clitheroe. London: printed at the Chiswick Press, 1883.” Only 250 copies were printed. The editing has been the work of the author’s nephew, that accomplished scholar and friend of all students, Dr. Richard Garnett, of the British Museum. The first paper contains a number of facts and observations relating to the salmon, chiefly based on Mr. Garnett’s experience in Lancashire. Written as long ago as 1834, it contains a plea in favour of a wise and not vexatious measure for the protection of the salmon fisheries. He believed that the salmon enters and ascends rivers for other purposes than propagation. In support of this view he cites what in Lancashire is called “streaming.” Thus in winter the fish not engaged in spawning, trout, grayling, chub, dace, etc., leave the streams and go into deep water. Another reason is their impatience of heat, which leads the grayling, if the weather is unusually hot at the end of May or beginning of June, to ascend the mill-streams in the Wharfe, by hundreds, and to go up the mill-races as far as they can get. The “salmon” par he holds to be neither a hybrid, nor a distinct species, but a state of the common salmon. In 1851 he wrote some papers describing his own experiments in the artificial breeding of salmon. His interest in the fish is shown by the following quotation:—“I have had fish sent from two different gentlemen living on the banks of the reservoirs belonging to the Liverpool Waterworks: these were beautiful fish, three in number, more like the sea trout than the salmon, and the largest of them weighing two pounds. I had put them into the brooks running into the reservoirs three years before. I also learn that a beautiful specimen of the Ombre chevalier (French char) was taken out of Rivington reservoir. About a thousand had been put in by me two years before.”

It should be mentioned that Mr. Garnett’s experiments on the artificial impregnation of fish ova were made without any knowledge of previous attempts of the same kind. In answer to a suggestion made by Mr. Garnett, the late Sir G. C. Lewis observed:—“You might as well propose to shoot partridges only three days a week as to restrict the netting of salmon to only three days.” In 1859, Mr. Garnett wrote some papers on the possibility of introducing salmon into Australia, and addressed a communication to the authorities of Tasmania and New Zealand on the subject. He had some doubts as to success, but thought that the experiment should be made, and that New Zealand was the likeliest place for the experiment. In 1843, 1844, 1845, and 1848, he made experiments in the cultivation of wheat on the same land in successive years, and the results were communicated to the Manchester Guardian. He also advocated the growing of a short-strawed wheat as peculiarly suitable to the conditions of farming in Lancashire and Yorkshire. The gravelling of his clay soils elicited some amusing comments from his neighbours, one of whom remarked that he had seen land tilled (manured) in various ways, but had never before seen a field tilled with cobble-stones! The cultivation of cotton in India and in Peru was another project in which he took a warm interest.

Mr. Garnett was a keen observer of natural history. Some excellent authorities had asserted that the common wren never lined its nest with feathers, but he showed conclusively that this was a mistake. The nest in which eggs are laid is profusely lined with feathers, but during the period of incubation the male frequently constructs several nests in the vicinity of the first, none of which are lined. The existence of these “cock-nests,” as they are called by schoolboys, was doubted, but Mr. Garnett fully made out his case. The grey wagtail (Motacilla sulphurea) sometimes looks at its own image in a window, and attacks it with great vivacity. A superstitious neighbour was alarmed by this conduct in a “barley-bird” (Motacilla flava), and thought it a portent of evil. Her alarm was cured by the young naturalist, who secured the bird of evil omen. Having caught a colony of the long-tailed titmouse, Mr. Garnett and his brother attempted to rear the half-fledged young ones, but of the six old birds, five died in confinement. The survivor was allowed to escape in the hope that it would come back to rear the young ones. This it did, and by the most unwearied exertions supplied the whole brood, sometimes feeding them ten times in a minute. Mr. Garnett took some pains to establish the identity of the green with the wood-sandpiper. The courage of the stoat, and the pertinacious manner in which the marsh-titmouse for a time resisted attempts to drive her from her nest, are amongst his curious observations. The creeper, he noticed, associated with the titmouse in winter. The language of birds has not yet been mastered, either by philologists or ornithologists, but it appears that the alarm note of one is readily understood by those of other species. Mr. Garnett desired to make some young throstles leave a nest which was in danger of visitation from mischievous lads. He took one from the nest and made it cry out. Its brethren quickly disappeared, the old bird set up a shriek of alarm, and blackbird, chaffinch, robin, oxeye, blue titmouse, wren, and marsh-titmouse, and even the golden-crested wren, which usually appears to care for nothing; in fact all the birds in the wood, except the creeper, came to see what was the matter. Mr. Garnett did not share the prejudice felt by some farmers against the rook, which he held to be serviceable to man. He reckoned that one rookery in Wharfedale destroyed 209 tons of worms, insects and their larvæ. The rook also, he notes, relieves the farmers from the apprehension caused by a flight of locusts in Craven. Contrary to Waterton’s opinion, Mr. Garnett describes the process by which birds dress their feathers with oil from a gland. The sedge-warbler owes its local name of “mocking-bird” to its imitative powers in copying the notes of the swallow, the martin, the house-sparrow, spring-wagtail, whinchat, starling, chaffinch, white-throat, greenfinch, little redpole, whin-linnet, and other birds. Of the water-ouzel he says:—“A pair had built for forty years, according to tradition, in a wheel-race near to where I was born, and had never been molested by anybody, until a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who was a great ornithologist, employed his gamekeeper to shoot this pair. I think the natives of Calcutta were not more indignant when an unlucky Englishman got one of their sacred bulls into his compound, and baited him, than was our little community at what we considered so great an outrage. The gamekeeper narrowly escaped being stoned by myself and some more lads, any one of whom would have shot fifty blackbirds or fieldfares without any misgiving.” Mr. Garnett once shot what he afterwards believed to have been a Sabine’s snipe.

His interest in the river was not confined to the salmon, and he made some interesting observations on the propagation of lampreys, the spawning of minnows, and the breeding of eels. A short note on the last-named topic, by Mr. Jeremiah Garnett, is also printed. On the formation of ice at the bottom of rivers, there are two papers, one by Mr. Thomas Garnett, and the other by his brother, the Rev. Richard Garnett. A shower of gossamer, the thread produced by the aëronautic spider, is recorded as seen on the hills near Blackburn. One of Mr. Garnett’s friends was the unfortunate Mr. Joseph Ritchie, of Otley, who accompanied Captain Lyon’s expedition to Fezzan, and died there in 1819. To this there is an allusion in the following passage:—“In conclusion, allow me to say that the leisure hours which a somewhat busy life has enabled me to spend in these pursuits, have been some of the happiest of my existence, and have awakened and cherished such an admiration of nature, and such a love of the country and its scenes, as I think can never be appreciated by the inhabitants of large towns, and which I cannot describe so well as in the words of one of my friends, in a beautiful apostrophe to England, when leaving it, never to return:—

‘To thee

Whose fields first fed my childish fantasy;

Whose mountains were my boyhood’s wild delight,

Whose rocks, and woods, and torrents were to me

The food of my soul’s youthful appetite;

Were music to my ear—a blessing to my sight.’”

Why do not more of the dwellers in rural districts employ their often abundant leisure in natural history studies?

The Traffords of Trafford.

The Trafford tradition is that the family were settled at Trafford as early as the reign of Canute. Radulphus, or Randolph, who is said to have died in the reign of Edward the Confessor, appears in the pedigree as the father of Radulphus, who “received the King’s protection from Sir Hamo de Massey, about the year 1080.” From the daughter of Hamo, Richard de Trafford had that entire lordship. To this early and obscure portion of the annals we must refer the tradition of the Trafford Crest, of which Arthur Agarde writes thus in 1600:—“The auncyentteste I know or have read is, that of the Trafords or Traford in Lancashire, whose arms [crest] are a labouring man, with a flayle in his hand threshinge, and this written motto, ‘Now thus,’ which they say came by this occasion: That he and other gentlemen opposing themselves against some Normans who came to invade them, this Traford did them much hurte, and kept the passages against them. But that at length the Normans having passed the ryver came sodenlye upon him, and then, he disguising himself, went into his barne, and was threshing when they entered, yet beinge knowen by some of them and demanded why he so abased himself, answered, ‘Now thus.’” At the fancy dress ball in connection with the Preston Guild of 1823 “Mr. Trafford was remarkably dressed in his own crest: a Clown in parti-coloured clothes, a flail in his hand and a motto, ‘Now thus.’” A similar crest was borne by the Asshetons and the Pilkingtons. The legend was told of a Pilkington to Fuller, who has given it a place in his “Worthies of England.” It is now impossible to tell if it has any foundation at all in actual fact. Another undated tradition is that of a “duel” between John of Trafford and Gilbert of Ashton, in which the latter was slain and buried by his antagonist in a field called Barnfield Bank, near Urmston Hall. Following the order of the pedigree we have as holders of the Trafford estates Radulphus, Radulphus, Robertus, Henricus, Henry, Richard, of whom little or nothing is known. They are followed by a succession of five Henrys, of whom the two last were knights. John, the son of the fifth, having died young, the estates passed to the grandson of the old knight. This sixth Henry came of age in 1336, was knighted, and, dying about 1370, left seven sons, and was succeeded by another Sir Henry, who died about 1386. His son, the eighth Henry, who did not attain to the knightly dignity, died in 1396, leaving a son six years old, who died about 1403, and was succeeded by his brother Edmund, who was knighted by King Henry VI. at Whitsuntide, 1426.

In 1422, the parish church of Manchester was collegiated by the action of the last rector and lord of the manor, Thomas de la Warre. The parishioners were gathered together at the sound of the bell to confirm and accept the arrangements he had made for the better service of the church. After Sir John le Byron and Sir John de Radcliffe, the first gentleman named is Edmund Trafford. Then follow representatives of the families of Booth, Longford, Holland, Strangeways, Hyde, Barlow, Hopwood, and others. Sir Edmund Trafford married Alice, the daughter of Sir William Venables. This union took place in 1409, when the bride was but eleven years of age. The little lady was co-heiress with her sister, Douce or Dulcia, of the lands of her brother Richard, the last male heir, who was drowned in the Bollin at the early age of eight, in the year 1402. She was born at Worsley and baptised at Eccles Church. One who witnessed the ceremony was David le Seintpier, and the ceremony was impressed upon his mind by the uncomfortable circumstance that he was setting out on a pilgrimage to Our Lady of Walsingham when he was thrown from his horse and broke his leg. This form of artificial memory, though effectual in his case, can hardly be recommended for imitation. Sir Edmund de Trafford was in the confidence of Henry VI., whose dreams of avarice he fanned by visions of the philosopher’s stone, and of the possibility of changing all the baser metals into gold and silver. On the 7th of April, 1446, the King granted a patent to this Trafford and to Sir Thomas Ashton, setting forth that certain persons had maligned them with the character of working by unlawful arts, and might disturb them in their experiments, and, therefore, the King gave them special lease and licence to work and try their art and science, lawfully and freely, in spite of any statute or order to the contrary. The King, in issuing this commission, was overriding the provision of 5 Henry IV., c. 4. Sir Edmund lived until 1457, and if he succeeded in finding the aurum potabile, he carried the secret with him to the grave. In 1435, Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Edmund Trafford, married Sir John Pilkington. The deeds are still extant by which Pilkington endowed his bride at the porch of the collegiate church of Manchester. He entered into a bond to pay 200 marks in silver, and also “swere upon a boke” that he stood “sole seiset in his demene as of fee simple or fee tail, the day of weddynge,” of the lands of his father, including the dower land of his mother, dame Margery.

The next holder of the estate, Sir John de Trafford, “belonged to the great Earl of Warwick,” and with his retainers fought for the Red Rose of Lancashire under the banner of the King-maker. His allowance was twenty marks yearly, in addition to the wages usual for one of his degree. For some reason now difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain, he resigned his estates to his son Edmund, the offspring of a marriage with the daughter of Sir Thomas Ashton, of Ashton-under-Lyne. One of his sisters married Sir John Ashton. Sir John Trafford transferred his estates in 1484, and died in 1488. Edmund Trafford married the young widow of John Honford, and had the guardianship of her first husband’s only son and heir. This was granted to him in a document which is worth quoting as an example alike of the customs and language of the time:—“Be hit knowen to all men wher now of late the Warde and marriage of the landez and Body of William Honford son and heir of John Honford esquier perteynet and langet to me John Savage th’ elder knight by cause ye sayd William at that tyme beinge tendur of age that is to witte under ye age of xxi yerez. I the said John Savage giffe and graunte the seid Warde and Mariage of the Body and landez of ye seid Willm during all his seid nonage to my Son in lagh Edmund Trafford esquier and my doghter Margaret his wife they to have all the seid Wardez and to marye hym at their pleasurez, worshipfullye, they takinge the profetez of all the seide Wardez and mariage during his seid nonage to their owne usez. And this is my Will and grawnte without any manner interrupcon or lett of me, myn herez, or of any other by our makyng, procuringe counsaile or assente. In wythence whereof to this my writinge I the saide Sir John Savage have sette my seall Theressez witnessez Thomas Leversege, John Sutton, William Savage the elder, Thomas ffaloghys.”

The boy became a bold soldier, and was slain at Flodden Field in 1515, and with him ended the male line of the ancient family of Honford. His daughter Margaret married, before she was twelve, Sir John Stanley, the stout knight, whose life forms a curious episode in mediæval biography. He was the son of James Stanley, the warlike Bishop of Ely, and Warden of Manchester, who was blamed by Fuller for “living all the winter at Somersham, in Huntingdonshire, with one who was not his sister, and who wanted nothing to make her his wife save marriage.” Young Stanley took part in the battle of Flodden, and is thought to have been knighted in the field. Notwithstanding his prowess he appears to have been “sicklied o’er with a pale cast of thought,” his favourite mottos being those of the preacher who declares vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas. In 1523, he became engaged in a dispute with one of the Leghs, of Adlington, who had married the daughter of a reputed mistress of Cardinal Wolsey. That haughty prelate summoned Sir John to London, and committed him to the Fleet until he surrendered his lease. Sir John founded a chantry in the church of Manchester, and arranged his estates for the benefit of his wife and child. Then by mutual consent a divorce was pronounced between him and Dame Margaret, and he became a monk of the Order of St. Benedict in the abbey of Westminster. His wife, when the divorce was arranged, intended to enter a nunnery, but anticipating the sentiment of a once popular song, she altered her mind, and married Sir Urian Brereton. When Stanley settled his property he directed that his son was not to be married until he was twenty-one, and then he was to choose his own wife by the advice of the Abbot of Westminster and Edmund Trafford.

The guardian of the monk’s childhood carried forward the fortunes of the Traffords, for in 1514 he was created a Knight of the Bath by Henry VIII. His son, the second Sir Edmund, was born in 1485, and died at the age of forty-eight, leaving behind him five sons and five daughters. Sir Edmund was one of the first feoffees of the Manchester Grammar School. When the school was built the east part of it adjoined “a stone chymney” of George Trafford’s.

Henry Trafford, the younger brother of Sir Edmund, who died in 1537, was rector of Wilmslow, and built the chancel and placed stained glass in many of the windows. He was the youngest son of the Sir Edmund Trafford who died in 1514. His monument in Wilmslow Church represents a tonsured priest in ecclesiastical costume. The inscription, now illegible, set forth his clerical honours as “licensed doctor of divinity,” formerly Chancellor of York Cathedral, and rector of Bolton Percy, Siglisthorne, and Wilmslow. He was succeeded by Henry Ryle, who, in 1542, resigned to make way for another Henry Trafford, who was rector of Wilmslow for nearly fifty years. He died in 1591. His will contains several interesting provisions. He was anxious to be buried in the same tomb as his uncle and predecessor, and left 6s. 8d. to be paid for his funeral sermon. Evidently disapproving of sable trappings, he desired that there should be no mourning gowns at his funeral, but that a “worshipful dinner” should be made for the friends that should happen to attend. His best gown he left to the curate of Wilmslow, and the furniture of the parsonage was to remain for the use of whoever should be his successor.[^[6]]

The third Sir Edmund, born in 1507, was knighted by the Earl of Hertford, in Scotland, in the thirty-sixth year of King Henry VIII. He was with the King at the siege of Boulogne, and died in 1564. He married a daughter of the knightly house of Radcliffe. His brother Thomas was the founder of the Traffords of Essex. Sir Edmund, in 1542, paid tax on £80 as the value of his Lancashire property. In Mary’s reign he was captain of the military musters of Salford hundred, and High Sheriff of the county. “Between 1542 and 1558,” says Mr. J. E. Bailey, “Sir Edmund Trafford was interested in promoting, in the church, the advancement of the following persons, who, belonging in some cases to the families of his tenants, were ordained at Chester upon the knight’s title: Dns Alexander Chorlton; Dns Alexander Hugson (or Hudson); Dns Robert Williamson; Dns Johannes Gregorie; Dns Willm’s Trafforde; Dns Jacobus Walker. Thomas Acson, of the diocese of Chester, an acolyte in April, 1546, soon afterwards became sub-dean, deacon, and presbyter on the title of Edmund Trafford, co. Lincoln, gentleman. The Trafford family had connections in Lincolnshire. George Trafford, a younger son of the Sir Edmund who died in 1514, had lands in Lincoln, but lived in the neighbourhood of Manchester, and in dying left provision for certain copes and vestments (which had been bought by his father-in-law) ‘to be restored again for the service of God.’” In 1564, a curious legal document was executed between Edmund Trafford, of Trafford, Esquire, and John Boothe, of Barton, Esquire, by which it was agreed that Edmund’s son (also Edmund) should marry Marget Boothe, daughter of the said John, and if she died before the union was completed he was to marry Anne, and in her default any other daughter of Boothe’s who might be her father’s heir. If Edmund died his next remaining brother in succession was to take his place. Moreover, if Boothe had any male issue a similar marriage was to be arranged with a daughter of the house of Trafford. In point of fact the feelings and dispositions of the young folk were not dreamed of as being of any account, and the future of their respective offspring, born and unborn, was dealt with by the seniors in the most arbitrary fashion, with the sole view of joining together the great estates of the two families. The fourth Sir Edmund was born in 1526, and died in 1590. His first wife was a sister of Queen Catharine Howard. By his second marriage, with Elizabeth, the daughter of Ralph Leicester, of Toft, he had three children. In 1586, the marriage of his daughter was celebrated with great pomp at Trafford, the Earl of Derby, the Bishop of Chester, “with divers knights and esquires of great worship,” were present, and the wedding-sermon, which still survives, was preached by William Massie, B.D., who dedicates it to Sir Edmund. “I having right honourably received,” he says, “by your good means, great courtesies, both in the country and at my studie at Oxford.” He was a Fellow of Brasenose College, and had been helped in his education by Sir Edmund. The conclusion of the dedication is worth quoting:—“For your selfe as you have long been a principal protection of God’s trueth and a great countenance and credit to the preachers thereof in those quarters, and have hunted out and unkenneled those slie and subtil foxes the Jesuites and seminarie Priests out of their celles and caves to the uttermost of your power, with the great ill will of many both open and private enimies to the prince and the church, but your rewarde is with the Lorde, and as you have maintained still your house with great hospitality in no point dimming the glory of your worthy predecessors, but rather adding to it: So I pray God stil continue your zeale, your liberality, your loyaltie and fidelitie, to your Prince, Church, and Common Wealth, that here you may live long with encrease of worship and after the race of your life wel runne here you maie be partaker of those unspeakable ioies in the kingdome of Heaven which be prepared for all the elect children of God, unto whose blessed protection I recommend you and al yours. Amen.”

He was, like his father, a staunch Protestant, and is credited with special activity against the partisans of the old faith. Lancashire was regarded as a hot-bed of Popery, and Manchester was thought a convenient place “wherein to confine and imprison such Papists as they thought meet, and to train up their children in the Protestant religion.” Chaderton, Bishop of Chester, was a resident in the town, and some of the children of the Roman Catholic gentry were committed to his charge. In 1580, Trafford wrote to the Earl of Leicester complaining that the state of Lancashire was lamentable to behold, for mass was said in several places, and if harsh measures were not used “our country is utterly overthrown. I know no lenity will do any good by experience.” Towards the close of 1582, Sir Edmund apprehended a priest named John Baxter, who, “for the more ease of Sir Edmund Trafford,” was committed to the common gaol until the next assizes. The zealous priest-hunters were “righte hartelie” thanked by the Privy Council for their activity. The persecuting spirit was exhibited in 1583, when, at the quarter sessions held in Manchester, two priests, Williamson and Hatton, who had been arrested by Sir Edmund, and James Bell, a priest, who had been apprehended by the Earl of Derby, were indicted for high treason for “extolling the Pope’s authority, &c.” Bell and a recusant, named Finch, were condemned to death, and executed at Lancaster. Their heads were placed on the steeple of the Manchester Parish Church. At the same sessions, Sir John Southworth and seven other gentlemen were fined for recusancy, each having to pay £240. The same fine was imposed upon a number of priests and “common persons.” Of four women it is remarked that, “although they be very obstinate, and have done great harm, yet being indicted it was not thought good to arraign them.” The next year, 1584, we find Trafford, at the instigation of Bishop Chaderton, making a descent upon Blainscough, but finding that Mr. Worthington had fled, they proceeded to Rossall to the house inhabited by the widow of Gabriel, the brother of Cardinal Allen. That lady having received a friendly hint had fled, but the High Sheriff found £500, which was secured on the plea that it was intended for the use of the Cardinal. Her three daughters, of whom the eldest was but sixteen, hearing that it was intended to convey them to prison, made their escape at midnight, and luckily finding a boat ready, crossed the Wyre and found refuge with friends. Ultimately, and after many hardships, they escaped to Rome, where they lived upon the bounty of Cardinal Allen. The Rev. James Gosnell, writing from Bolton about 1584, says:—“Here are great store of Jesuits, Seminaries, Masses and plenty of whoredom. The first sort our sheriff (Edmund Trafford, Esq.) courseth pretty well.”

From Warden Herle the Traffords received, about 1574, some ambiguous leases of the tithes of Stretford, Trafford, and half of Chorlton, which were ultimately decided to mean possession for ninety-nine years after twenty-one years. This transaction is probably the origin of the right of the family to nominate one churchwarden and two sidesmen, and to appoint the parish clerk of Manchester. When Peploe was warden these leases were the occasion of much trouble, and it was with great difficulty that the Fellows obtained their surrender. The fifth Sir Edmund was thrice High Sheriff of Lancashire. In 1603, when James made his progress into England, he was received at York with great pomp and state by the Lord Mayor and burgesses. A seminary priest was sent to prison for presenting a petition, and a number of gentlemen were “graced with the honour of knighthood.” Amongst these was Edmund Trafford, who, like his father, was a hater of Roman Catholics, and employed a spy named Christopher Bayley to ferret them out. Sir Edmund died in 1620. His first wife was a Booth, of Barton. In a second marriage he espoused Lady Mildred Cecil, the second daughter of the Earl of Exeter. A daughter received the name of Cecilia, and a son the name of Cecil, in honour of the mother’s family. In 1584, there was a levy of 200 men for the service of the Queen in her Irish wars, and that the Lancashire lads might not be committed to strange captains who “for the most part” had not used their soldiers “with the love and care that appertained,” one of their own shire, Edmund Trafford, eldest son of Sir Edmund Trafford, Knight, was appointed their commander. Two years later an entry in the Court Leet book shows that the town paid £16 to Mr. Trafford and Mr. Edmund Assheton for the “makeing of soldiers into Ireland.”

Sir Cecil Trafford, who was born in 1599, and knighted by King James at Houghton Tower in 1617, succeeded his father in 1620. Leonard Smethley writes from Manchester, 10th May, 1620, that Sir Edmund Trafford was buried on the 8th at Manchester Church by torchlight, and had a funeral sermon by candle-light, leaving a will so ambiguous that the heir who should inherit could not be known. Sir Urian Legh, of Adlington, and Sir Peter Legh, of Lyme, were expected to meet for the ordering and establishing of quietness amongst the four brethren. Smethley, with a keen eye to business, wanted to secure Sir Edmund’s “hearse-cloth” as a perquisite of the College of Arms, whose minion he was. From the Reformation the Traffords had been staunch Protestants, and Sir Edmund in particular was a vigorous hunter of recusants. In his earlier years Sir Cecil was thought to be tainted with Puritanism, and in an excess of religious ardour engaged in an attempt to bring back a convert, Mr. Francis Downes, who had gone over to Rome. This entry into the thorny fields of controversy had an unexpected result. Sir Cecil found himself converted by the very arguments he had sought out only to confute. Sir Cecil married a daughter of Sir Humphrey Davenport, Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer, and his daughter Penelope, named after her mother, became the wife of John Downes, of Wardley, the brother and heir of the man whose reclamation the Knight of Trafford had attempted with so curious a result. His grandson, Roger Downes, was the young rake whose tragic fate has given rise to the story of the “skullhouse.” The death of the Rector of Ashton-on-Mersey, who was drowned on Good Friday, in 1632, “being, as it is feared, somewhat overcharged with drink,” the suicide of the Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge on Easter Day, and the controversy between two Fellows of the College as to the nature of sin, seemed to new converts like Trafford and Downes “signal evidences of God’s anger and wrath, and presages of the ruin of the reformed religion.” It has, however, been claimed that the re-conversion of the Traffords, the Downes, and the Sherburnes was the work of Richard Hudleston, a Lancashire Benedictine monk, who prosecuted the dangerous mission of keeping alive Roman Catholicism in England, and died in 1655, at the age of seventy-five. In 1580, there was at Trafford a priest of this English mission, but no particulars respecting him are known. In religion a Roman Catholic, in politics a Royalist, Sir Cecil played a busy part in the troublous period of the Civil War. Ship-money, perhaps the most momentous impost in its results ever levied, was the subject of a letter from Sir Cecil to Humphrey Chetham, then High Sheriff of Lancashire, which for its quaint formalism may be worth quoting:—

“Mr. Sheriffe,—I hope you will excuse mee for my late sending you venison, for in truth I was ashamed my keeper cold doe noe better, though he had Mr. Fox to help him. I have in recompense of your patience sent you a quarter of a hinde, & if you need more venison I pray lett me knowe and you shall have assoone as it will be kild. I have perused our directions from his Maty and the Llds for the levying of men & money within this County & compared it with Cheshire, & find that some time Cheshire hath byn equall to us, sometyme deeper charged, & sometymes this County hath borne 3 parts and Cheshire 2. Yet I clerely hold equallity is the best rate betweene the Countys, though Cheshire be lesse yet it is generally better land, and not soe much mosses and barren ground in it. Mr. Adam Smiths is now with me and acquainted mee with your desire, which I will as willingly perform as you desire, if God make me able; for I have byn a little troubled with rewme in my head this two dayes, though I am better to-day; I have looked for the Coppy of the letter from the Llds of the Councell for providing a Shipp in this County, but yet I cannot find it; but I find this proclamation for the discharge of it, and by my remembrance in writing on the back of the proclamation you may see the charge of money demanded by the Kinge and Llds because the shipp could not possibly be provided in time. I shall further acquaint you with my booke of Lieutenancy wherein are those few notes of remembrance. I desire to know your tyme of going, and I will prepare myself for you accordingly, and thus with my harty commendations to you I rest

Your well wishing ffrend,

Cecyll Trafford.

Trafford the third of January, 1634.

To the right worll. my very good freind Humfrey Chetam, esq.

High Sheriffe of the County of Lancaster at his House at Clayton these present.”

These worthy gentlemen discuss the matter of Ship Money with an exclusive eye to its purely business aspect, and seem quite unconscious of the momentous issues beneath these details, and yet the freedom of England was involved in the settlement. Sir Cecil writes from Trafford, 16th February, 1638, to William ffarington that “wee” have enrolled all the able men between sixteen and sixty, “a great number,” out of which levy may be made for the King. On the 11th of March he writes again that he has been to the houses of various gentlemen as requested, to see who would help with arms or money for the Kings cause, and that “few denyed.” In 1639, Sir Cecil, in conjunction with other Loyalists, “suspecting that sundry in the towne did favour the Scots, did charge the towne of Manchester with more arms than ever before in the memory of man it had been charged with, which war being composed they had their arms in their own possession.”

In 1642, Sir William Gerard, Sir Cecil Trafford, and other recusants represented to the King that they were disarmed, and asked for his Majesty’s protection, and that their arms might be “re-delivered in this time of actual war.” Charles immediately issued a commission to the Lancashire recusants “commanding them to provide with all possible speed sufficient arms for the defence of his Majesty’s person or them against all force raised by any colour of any order or ordinance whatsoever without his Majesty’s consent.” This was answered by the Parliament sending down Sir John Seaton, and by the issue of orders for “putting down associations of Papists in Lancashire, Cheshire, and the five northern counties.” In December, 1642, Sir Cecil was imprisoned as a recusant by the Parliamentarians, probably in the same prison to which his relative had consigned so many for recusancy. The death of Sir Cecil’s two eldest-born sons caused the estates to pass to the third, who received the name of Humphrey from his grandfather Davenport. Another brother was John Trafford, of Croston. The eldest of Humphrey’s sons died unmarried at Angiers; the second, Humphrey, was married at Manchester in 1701 to a daughter of Sir Ralph Assheton, but the numerous offspring of this union left no children. In 1670, Henry Newcome’s heart was sorely troubled about the fate of his son Daniel, who was on a voyage to Jamaica. News came that the ships, with their two guardian men-of-war, had, after a two days’ fight, been captured by the Turks. The first imperfect rumour reached him on Saturday, and it was not until the succeeding Thursday that, when visiting Dunham he saw the story told more plainly. He enters it thus in his diary:—“That seven Turkish men-of-war set upon them two ships and other merchant ships near the Cape de Gat, and that the captains were slain, but they fought it out two days, and the Turks were glad to desist from their engagement. This satisfied me that there might be no captivity in the case; but then I knew not but that my child might be killed in the fight; and so it rested with me till Saturday. Then going to Trafford, I discoursed of that part of the news, and Mr. Trafford showed me that Cape de Gat was in the midst of the Mediterranean, and 150 miles within the Straits; by which it was apparent that the Amity bound for Tangier was gone off before.” Dan was not carried into Turkish captivity, but returned to Manchester, and his father was mortified at not being able to obtain employment for him with “Mr. Trafford.” It is to be remarked that at this date Sir Cecil was still living. He was buried 29th November, 1672.

The next squire of Trafford also bore the name of Humphrey. He married a daughter of Sir Oswald Mosley, but the union was childless. In the very curious “Characteristic Strictures,” written by the Rev. Thomas Seddon, and consisting of remarks on an imaginary exhibition of portraits of Lancashire and Cheshire notabilities, we have the following picture of him as “the good Samaritan”: “That universal benevolence is an enemy to restraint, and that character is not the effect of an illiberal spirit, is here most laudably expressed. The pure motives of compassion cannot be restrained by religious tenets; the manner in which these sentiments actuate the Samaritan to relieve his fellow-creature in distress, is most beautifully sublime, and every after-stroke gives lustre to the whole. The formality of the habit is the only fault in this performance, as it is better calculated for a recluse than a travelling character.”

By a will dated June 5th, 1779, the estates were devised by Humphrey to his collateral cousin, John Trafford, of Croston, who settled at the ancient home of his race, and obtained an act of Parliament in 1793 giving him power to let lands on building leases, and to lease the waste moss lands in the parishes of Manchester and Eccles for ninety-nine years. Mr. Thomas Joseph Trafford, who in 1815 succeeded to the estate, was the fifth son, and was born at Croston in 1778. His marriage, in 1803, with the daughter of Mr. Francis Colman, of Hellersdown, Devonshire, resulted in a family of fourteen children. He was a county magnate of high consideration, served as High Sheriff in 1834, and was in 1841 created a baronet and received the royal authority to revert to an old method of spelling the family name. Sir Thomas Joseph de Trafford died in 1852, and was succeeded by Sir Humphrey, who was born in 1808, and in 1855 married the Lady Mary Annette Talbot, the eldest sister of the 17th Earl of Shrewsbury. The numerous issue of this union are the bearers of a name that has endured for so many centuries that some of the families entered in the peerages look but like parvenus beside it. He was succeeded by his son, Sir Humphrey, who in consequence of the contiguity of the Manchester Ship Canal, found it desirable to leave the old home of the family.[^[7]]

The possessions of the family in Lancashire were thus set forth in the return of landowners in 1873, which is generally credited with under rather than over-estimating the value of the estates of the larger landowners:—

The family of Trafford in bygone centuries did good service in the public work of the nation, and if for some generations it sought obscurity, the motive was honourable and the blame for it rested upon those laws, alike mistaken and mischievous, which made creeds the test of citizenship. The most impressive fact about the ancient race of the Traffords of Trafford is their permanence. It is a thoroughly English attribute, and nowhere will it attract more respect than in that place which successive generations of the Traffords have seen developing from the Saxon village to the busy, bustling, modern city of Manchester. The Traffords survive and flourish, but they are Traffords of Trafford no more.

Footnotes:

[6]. When the Rev. Joseph Bradshaw was in extremis, Mr. T. J. Trafford sold the next presentation of Wilmslow for £6,000 to Mr. E. V. Fox, who nominated the Rev. George Uppleby, B.A. The Bishop of Chester arguing that this was a simoniacal transaction, refused to induct, and a see-saw litigation ensued, ending in a judgment of the House of Lords in favour of Mr. Fox!

[7]. Those who desire to follow the fortunes of the Traffords in greater detail will find it recorded in Richmond’s “History of the Trafford Family,” a magnificent volume privately printed for the present baronet. The General Indexes of the Chetham Society also supply abundant evidences of the influence and consideration of the family.

A Manchester Will of the Fifteenth Century.

The will of George Manchester, A.D. 1483, was presented to the Peel Park Museum, Salford, by the late Mr. Stephen Heelis. It has several points of interest. The date is given in a peculiar form: “the first year of the reign of King Richard the Third after the Conquest, when he raised his realm against the Duke of Buckingham.” The Manchester localities mentioned are the Irk Bridge, the Furthys (? the Fords), the Pavey, the Spring Bank, the Butts, the Tenter Bank, Drynghouses, Bradforth, and Mylnegate. The family names of Fornesse, Strangeways, Blakeley also occur. Dialectally noticeable are the words brege (bridge), garthyn (garden), longs (belongs), whether (whichever), wedit (wedded), spendit (spent). The spelling of the word lawful seems to point to the former use of a guttural sound now fallen into disuse. The peculiar employment of the word livelihood is also noteworthy. The perusal of this interesting document seems to show that in the past the dialect of Lancashire approximated more closely than at present to the Northumbrian group. The will reads as follows:—“Be it knawen to all men & in especiall to all myn neghburs that I George Manchester have made my Wyll in dyspocion of my lyvelouede the xx^ti day of October the fyrst yere of the regne of Kyng Richard the thyrd after the conquest when he raysed hys realme agaynes the Duke of Bokyngham. Fyrst my wyfe schall have dewrying hyr lyve the place that I dwell in so that she kepe hyre Wedo. And at the furthys xiii s viii d and at the pavey vi s viiii d. And if so be that sche be weddit Roger my sone schall hafe the place that I dwell in and delyver hyr alsmuch in a nother place at the seght of neghburs. And also it is my will that Hugh my sone have the halfe burgage that I purchest of Richard Fornesse and the hows be yond Irke brege that [? Emyun or Simyun] Blakela dwells in and the garthyn and the orchard that longs thereto and the Spryng Bank dewryng his lyve and then remayn to myn eldyst sone and hys heres male laghfully begotyn. And also it is my will that Thomas my sone have a nother hows be yond Irke brege next the Butts and the garthyn & my newe orchard that is cald the Tentur Bank dewryng hys lyve & then remayn to myn eldest sone & his heres male laghfully begottyn. And then it is my will that myn eldest sone have my land at Drynghowses and Jamys hows of Bradforth and Geferous of Pedley and Johns Phyllypp & Johns Alseter & my kylne & my kylne hows and the blake burgage in mylngate with the appurtenaunce that was sum tymes Nicholas Strangewyse. And it is my wyll that yf Roger my sone hafe non ischewe male of hys body lawfully begottyn that then my lyfelode remayn to Hugh my son and hys heres male of hys body laghfully begottyn. And yf Hugh my sone have non heyres male of hys body laghfully begottyn that then my lyfelode remayn to Thomas my sone and hys heres male laghfully begottyn. And yf so be Thomas my sone have none heres male of hys body laghfully begottyn that then my lyfelode remayn to Thurstan of Manchester my brother and hys heres male laghfully begottyn or bastard so that it be in the name. And yf my name be spendit of Manchester it is my wyll that John of Buth my Syster sone have my lyvelode & so furth male or generall whether God wyll. And all so it is my wyll that Roger my eldyst sone gyf to Elyzabeth my Doghtter iiii marks to hyr maryage when he ys mared hym self.” The anxiety to keep his belongings within the enclosure of the family name was greater than his dislike of a bar sinister.

The Lancashire and Cheshire wills published by the Chetham Society show that the illegitimate children were often provided for along with those born in wedlock, and in several cases bore the surname of their father. There are several entries relating to the Mancestres in the manorial rent roll of 1473, which has been translated and printed by Mr. Harland in his “Mamcestre.” Ellen Mancestre appears as the tenant of two burgages, late Katherine Johnson’s, for each of which she paid 12d. George Mancestre held a messuage in “Le Foris” at a rent of 3s. Mr. Harland conjectures this to be the clerkly rendering of “the Market or the Courts.” He was also concerned in a field near the “Galoz,” and paid 6d. as tenant of an ostrina, concerning which Mr. Harland observes:—“The word we have rendered singeing house is in the original ostrina, literally purple, from ostrea, an oyster. But it seems to be an error for ustrina (from uro) a burning or conflagration (Apuleius) a place in which anything, especially a dead body, has been burned (Festus), or a melting house for metal (Pliny); but besides these meanings of classic times, the word had other mediæval significations, one of which is, a place where hogs are singed—ubi porci ustulautur. (See Ducange in voce.) This seems to be the most probable meaning of ostrina in the text.” May not this be the “dryng-howses” named in the will? The name of the family of Manchester is not yet “spendit,” but is still borne both in this country and in the United States.

A Visitor to Lancashire in 1807.

There are some interesting references to Lancashire and the manufacturing district in a volume of “Summer Excursions,” consisting of letters written by Miss E. I. Spence, published in 1809. Literary fame is not always permanent, and it may be necessary to explain that the author of these volumes and of “The Nobility of the Heart” and “The Wedding Day” was a well-known woman of letters in her own generation.

Elizabeth Isabella Spence was the daughter of a Durham physician, and the granddaughter of Dr. Fordyce. She was early orphaned, and was brought up in London by an uncle and aunt. On their death the literary tastes which had already made her a contributor to the press became useful in the gaining of a subsistence. She wrote nine novels or collections of stories, and three works of inland travel, devoted respectively to the North Highlands, Scotland, England, and Wales. She “lodged for the greater part of her life in a retired street at the west end of the town”—Weymouth Street, that is. Amongst her friends were the Benthams, Lady Margaret Bland Burges, Lady Anne Barnard (the authoress of “Auld Robin Gray”), Sir Humphrey Davy, L. E. L., and the venerable Mary Knowles, one of the few ladies who met Dr. Johnson on equal terms in argument, and could even claim a victory over that doughty champion. Miss Spence died on the 27th July, 1832.

Her impressions of the manufacturing district were not of a favourable kind. The inns of Warrington did not please her, and “the dirtiness of the people here exceeds,” she says, “what I could have believed in any part of this kingdom.” From Bolton she writes: “The apparel of the women in some of the villages we passed through was scarcely decent, and all the children were without shoes and stockings.” At Wigan she mentions the “celebrated spa” and the “cannel coal,” which was made into ornaments. “I have heard a dinner service was once made out of this coal, which, after the entertainment, was demolished in the fire.” Bolton she found to be situated on “a dreary moor,” but there was some compensation in “an extensive view of a fine open country.” The next stay was at Stand Hall, a mansion of which the beautiful situation and the hospitality of her friends, who were its inmates, made her pardon even the rainfall. Her host, “Mr. J——,” was Mr. John Johnson, steward for Lord Derby in the Bury district. “The large town of Manchester,” she says, “spreads along the valley in front of the house at some miles’ distance, and the less one of Bury is seen distinctly to the left, surrounded by villages with simple cottages dispersed along the plain. The hills of Lancashire, Derbyshire, Cheshire, and Yorkshire, rising in succession, spread in a vast amphitheatre till lost in the immensity of space; while the rugged tops of the Welsh mountains, which I gazed upon as old friends, hide their heads in the clouds, of which they seem to form a part. The dialect of this country is peculiarly unharmonious to the ear, and when spoken by the peasantry is scarcely to be understood. All the lower orders of the people are employed in the manufactories, and the dress worn by the women is a long bed-gown, black stockings, and a mob-cap hanging open from the ears.” The fidelity of her description of the former dress of the people will be recognised.

Miss Spence was taken by her friends to the Manchester theatre to see Mrs. Siddons as Lady Macbeth, and also as Catharine in “Catharine and Petruchio”—an adaptation of the “Taming of the Shrew.” Apparently the drama then, as now, was in a decline. “This pre-eminently great actress,” says Miss Spence, “has for several years been so entirely the theme of public admiration to the real amateurs of the drama (for some we still possess) that it would be superfluous to dwell on her exquisite powers—powers that even in former times, when the stage was in its meridian glory, could not be excelled, and would have awakened astonishment and admiration. But to give your Ladyship” (the letter is addressed to the Dowager Countess of Winterton) “an idea either of the little taste or the prudent economy of the inhabitants of Manchester in permitting her to perform to empty benches, I need only mention that after the other evening, on sharing the profits with the manager, she was rewarded with the sum (shall I commit it to paper?) of seven shillings!” But wishing to be just, even in such a case, she adds, “There may, indeed, have been a moral cause for this rather than a want of taste or parsimony.” And no doubt there were many in old Manchester who would not go to the theatre even to see the acting of Mrs. Siddons. In 1775, the establishment of a Theatre Royal was advocated by a noble peer as a means of “eradicating” Methodism in Manchester.

Miss Spence visited also Rochdale, and was impressed by the handsome houses of the manufacturers, “whose wealth appears as unbounded as the magnificence of their tables.” She notices with regret the fondness for card parties, and was surprised to find “the primitive hours of our ancestors still prevalent in Rochdale,” where one o’clock was the general dinner hour. Passing through the “miserable village”—as she styles it—of Whitworth, Miss Spence repeats an interesting account of its famous “doctors,” which was given to her by Mr. Johnson. “‘Old Sammie [it should be Jammie] in Whitworth’ was originally a common farrier, or cow doctor. His sons, however, John and George, though they continued the business of farriers, had a deal to do with the human race, and for many years were famous for the cure of cancers, and contracted or broken limbs, which they frequently effected at a very small expense, from the sum of two and sixpence to half a guinea. T——, Bishop of Durham, was a patient of theirs for a cancerous complaint; and it is well known that they prolonged his life for several months, though they did not cure him. To this obscure village both lords and commoners resort for relief; and in cancerous cases and contractions have undoubtedly succeeded when the regular bred men of the faculty have failed. The widow of George, son of old Sammie, and James, grandson of Sammie, are the present doctors, and are held in high estimation for the same cures. The widow of Doctor George is reckoned very clever, and takes a most active part amongst the patients of both sexes. They attend once a week at Rochdale, where they have a public open shop, and it is wonderful, though dreadful, to see the business they go through.”

The neighbourhood of Stand delighted her, and she has a good word for the Rector of Prestwich and for the Earl of Wilton. “What an edifying example does my Lord Wilton set by attending this church every Sunday, not only with the whole of his noble family, but also in being followed by the men and women of his household, who all conduct themselves with the most becoming reverence! This noble example of his Lordship tends to assemble a very numerous and respectable congregation, even from distant parts.” Some of our readers will remember that at a later date Fanny Kemble drew an interesting picture of the household at Heaton Park. She was impressed in the same manner as was Miss Spence, but she does not give expression to it in quite the same manner.

“Adjoining to the mansion of Stand Hall,” observes Miss Spence, “is a barn, which was once a chapel. It has a fine Gothic roof of English oak, and it is a singular fact, no one ever saw a spider’s web upon it; and it always looks as if it had just been swept down. Mr. J—— informed me no person he had ever met with could account for it, although all other barns are covered with spiders’ webs.”

Of Manchester she says, “It is a very large town, but the streets, for the most part, are inconveniently narrow, with very few noble buildings or handsome houses. The population is immense, and the traffic considerable; and it has acquired great celebrity from its extensive manufactories, so productive, all over the kingdom.” We need only make one more quotation. “I wish I could tell your Ladyship,” she says, “that the peasantry were possessed of that native simplicity we expect to find two hundred miles from the Metropolis; their manners accord with their rude and uncultivated appearance, and their demeanour is remarkably forbidding; but this, I understand, is often the case near manufacturing towns, though it is the first time I have had the opportunity of observing it.” Evidently Manchester, even ninety years ago, was some distance from Arcadia.

How the First Spinning Machinery was taken to Belgium.

The introduction of spinning machinery to the Continent is a curious episode in the history of commerce, and has some interest for Manchester people, as it was from that place the men and the machinery were obtained. The industrial activity of England and the riches which the inventions of Kay, Highs, and Arkwright brought her, naturally attracted the attention of her foreign rivals, but in those days there were stringent regulations against the export of machines, and the “seduction of artizans” to engage in the service of a foreign master was a criminal offence. The temptation was, however, too great for the attempt not to be made. As Englishmen had gone abroad in order to obtain the secrets of the silk and other manufactures, so foreigners came here to spy out the industrial riches of the land. The man who succeeded in taking abroad the spinning-jenny was Liévin Bauwens.[^[8]] He belonged to a Belgian family that claimed patrician rank, but had always been associated with the industries of Holland, in Antwerp, Malines, and other places. Although the names and coat-of-arms of the Bauwens are to be found in the books of the Low Country heralds, they are also inscribed for generations in the records of the Tanners’ Guild of Ghent.

Liévin Jean Bauwens was born at Ghent on the 14th of June, 1769, and was the son of Georges Bauwens and his second wife, Thérèse van Peteghem. His father had a tannery in the Waaistraat, and his numerous children were taught to take a part in the family industry, so at an early age Liévin was made the overseer of a branch establishment at Huydersvetters-Hoeck. He can only have been a boy when he had this responsible position, for at the age of sixteen he came to London, and in the great tannery of Undershell and Fox learned what there was to be known of the English methods of that industry. Three years later he returned to Ghent, and took charge of a large establishment which his father had started shortly before his death. The Nieuwland Tannery in the old Dominican convent employed 200 men, and kept 550 vats going. Bauwens made leather for the London market, and is said to have paid 500,000 francs of customs duty yearly. He had frequent occasion to visit England, and the expansion of the cotton industry naturally attracted his attention—all the more so that he had always had a strong taste for mechanics, and only adopted the family trade in compliance with the wishes of his father. A clock which he had made at the age of twelve was one of the favourite exhibits of his parents, who, whilst proud of the ingenuity of their son, did not wish him to abandon the vocation which had ensured competence to the family. As tanners, they naturally felt that there was “nothing like leather.”

At this time Belgium was annexed to France, and Bauwens proposed to the Directoire that he should endeavour to obtain the secret of the machines by which the British manufacturer bade defiance to his continental rivals. The French Government promised him their support, and he came to Manchester for the purpose of getting the necessary information. This was in 1798, and he was aided by François de Pauw, one of his relations. At Manchester he made the acquaintance of an overseer, Mr. James Kenyon, and his daughter Mary. Whilst talking business with the father he appears to have talked of other matters to the girl, who eventually became his wife. The various parts of the machine, which in Belgium came to be called the “mull jenny,” were secreted in casks of sugar and in bags of coffee, and shipped to Hamburg. The statement that he intended to add dealings in colonial produce to his tanning operations was a sufficient explanation of this novel step on his part. Some of the packages were to be sent from Gravesend, and from this port Bauwens intended himself to depart, along with a number of workmen whom he had engaged. An overseer named Harding had a wife who strongly objected to the departure of her husband, and she made a scene, in which the destination and intentions of the party were made known. The police thus came to a knowledge of the conspiracy, and the men were arrested. Bauwens managed to escape in the crowd, and hastening quickly to London, he took passage to Hamburg, where part of the precious packages and the workmen who had been sent on before awaited him. Here he had a narrow escape, for Sir James Crawford, the British Envoy, endeavoured to have him imprisoned. The export of machinery and workmen was then a criminal offence, and the conspirators who had fallen into the hands of the authorities were brought before the Court of King’s Bench and convicted. The contemporary accounts of the affair in the English periodicals are very meagre, and the French accounts have an air of exaggeration. Thus we are told that Bauwens was, in his absence, condemned to death, and faute de mieux hung in effigy. Whatever his sentence may have been, it was powerless to hinder his success. He established spinning factories at Ghent, and still larger establishments at Paris, where he converted a convent of Bonshommes, at Passy, into a cotton spinning mill. He had a tannery at St. Cloud; he bought from the French Government the ingots made from the silver taken in the dissolved monasteries, and sold them at considerable profit to the Bank of Amsterdam.

Napoleon, when he came to power, had a good opinion of Bauwens; he visited the great works both at Paris and at Ghent, and after his inspection of the last-named place, he sent 4,000 francs to be distributed in presents to the workpeople. Bauwens started a new spinning mill at Tronchiennes, and was the first in Belgium to employ steam power. The flying shuttle was also used by him, and he made essays in cotton printing, in carding, and, indeed, appears to have been always on the alert for every possible improvement of the industrial processes in which he was engaged. He took an active part in local affairs, and was Maire of Ghent and member of the Council of the Department. In 1805, the town of Ghent presented him with a gold medal at a banquet, where the services of Bauwens in the creation of fresh industries was gratefully acknowledged. The French Institute, in a report on the progress of industry, gave to Bauwens the credit of having naturalised the English machines in France. Napoleon, who was in Ghent in 1810, offered him the title of Comte. This he declined, but accepted the Cross of the Legion of Honour. His great works, and that at Ghent, are said to have given employment to 3,000 people, were open to visitors, and he freely gave advice to those who were engaging in the cotton trade. His own profits were very large, and he showed great liberality in the treatment of his workpeople, and in the uses he made of his riches. But this princely opulence was not without check. The coalition of the great powers against Napoleon, in 1814, resulted in disaster to French industry, and Bauwens was one of the victims. A forced sale of the factories turned out very unfavourably, and Bauwens was ruined.

When the kingdom of the Netherlands was formed, Bauwens sought the patronage of William I., but in vain. A proposal to establish cotton spinning on the banks of the Guadalquivir, which he made to the Infanta of Spain, was equally unsuccessful. In these circumstances he attempted the creation of a new industry, and began at Paris a process for the treatment of waste silk. This was in 1819, and his partner, the Baron Idelot de la Ferté, allowed him an annual salary of 5,000 francs and a share of the profits. The patent taken out in November, 1821, for the preparation and treatment of silk floss, might possibly have restored the fallen fortunes of Liévin Bauwens, but he died of the rupture of an aneurysm on the 17th of March, 1822. His widow, the former Mary Kenyon, of Manchester, after burying him in Père-la-Chaise, returned to Belgium, and died at St. Bernard in 1834. Five years later the two sons of the manufacturer received the royal licence to use their father’s Christian and surname as a patronymic. Liévin was himself the eldest of a family of twelve. By his marriage with Mary Kenyon he had two sons and a daughter—Napoléon, born at Tronchiennes in 1805, who died at Paris in 1869; Félix, born at Tronchiennes in 1806, who died in London; and Elvina Marie Bernardine, born at Tronchiennes in 1809, who married M. Louis Rysheuvels, of Antwerp.

Ghent has not forgotten the memory of the man who laid the foundations of a vast industry, and who united to commercial enterprise public spirit and private generosity. One of her open squares is named in honour of Liévin Bauwens, and there his statute stands to witness that peace has her victories no less than war. Such is one of the many romantic episodes connected with the history of the industrial development of Manchester.

Footnotes:

[8]. The story of the life of Bauwens is told in “Un Précurseur de Richard Lenior,” par A. Boghaert-Vaché (Mulhouse, 1886).

Merry Andrew of Manchester.

In that strange old joke-book, “Pasquil’s Jests and Mother Bunches Merriments,” there is a story in which a “local habitation” is given to a name suggestive of grotesque amusement. Whether the Mancunian Merry Andrew was the first of his tribe may be doubted, but as the book was printed in 1604, he is somewhat of a patriarch in the race. The story is entitled, “How merry Andrew of Manchester serued an Vsurer,” and runs thus:—“Merry Andrew of Manchester, who is well knowne, meeting with three or foure of his companions on a Sunday, presently hee bade them home to dinner, yet hee neyther had meate nor money in his house. Well, but to his shifts he goeth, and went into an olde Usurer’s kitchen, where he was very familiar, and priuily, under his gowne, he brought away the pot of meate that was sodden for the old miser’s dinner. When he came home, hee put out the meat, and made his boy scoure the pot, and sent him with it to the Usurer, to borrow two groats on it, and bade the boy take a bill of his hand: which the boy did, and with the money bought beere and bread for their dinner. When the Usurer should goe to dinner, his meat was gone; wherefore he all to beat his mayd, calling her whoore. She sayd ‘There came nobody but Andrew there all that day.’ Then they asked him; and he sayd, hee had none. But at last they sayd, that he and no body else had the pot. ‘By my fayth,’ quoth Andrew, ‘I borrowed such a pot on a time, but I sent it home agayne;’ and so called his witnesse, and sayd: ‘It is perilous to deal with men now adayes without writing; they would lay theft to my charge, if I had not his owne hand to showe;’ and so he shewes the Usurers bill, whereat the Usurer storms, and all the rest fell a laughing.”

There is another anecdote of this ancient droll, but it is too indecorous to be repeated. The story quoted occurs also, as Mr. Collier states, in the Facetie, Motti e Burle (Venet. 1565) of Domenichi (Bibliographical Account, ii., 124).

A Manchester Jeanie Deans.

“There is none,

In all this cold and hollow world, no fount

Of deep strong, deathless love, save that within

A mother’s heart.”

—Mrs. Hemans, Siege of Valencia.

About the beginning of the present century there was resident in the neighbourhood of Portland Street, Manchester, an elderly Irishwoman, whose violent temper made her the terror of the neighbourhood. The only person of whom she stood in awe was the Roman Catholic priest, Father Rowland Broomhead. She had a tender side to her character, however, and her son, a wild youth, having committed an offence, which in the then barbarous state of the criminal law made liable to be hanged, she undertook a journey to London; walked the entire distance on foot, braved every difficulty, and by her perseverance gained access to Queen Charlotte, to whose motherly feelings she made a strong appeal, and received a promise that the life of her boy should be spared. He was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to death, but in accordance with the royal promise he was not hanged, but transported. This was told me by one who in her youth had known the irascible but true-hearted Irishwoman.

Some Lancashire Giants.

Like other parts of Old England, the County Palatine has been distinguished by great men, physically as well as mentally. We begin with traditions of the former existence of a race of the sons of Anak. Thus at Heathwaite, in North Furness, two stone-circles are known as “The Giants’ Graves.” A tradition has of course been fitted to the name, and it asserts that the last of these Lancashire Anaks was shot by an arrow on the hill of Blawithknott.

At Manchester the fame of the giant Tarquin, who held a castle on the ford of the Medlock, was long preserved. His legendary overthrow by Sir Lancelot du Lake is recorded by Hollinworth, and has since been turned into verse by one of our local poets. The Rev. John Whitaker, the learned historian of Manchester, discusses the matter with becoming gravity, and is quite inclined to believe in the reality of the gigantic knight and the stalwart courage of Arthur’s hero by whom he was overthrown. In the audit-room of Chetham’s Hospital there is a grotesque boss representing Saturn devouring his children, but the juvenile guides used to describe it as a portrait of Sir Tarquin enjoying his favourite breakfast of a plump Manchester baby.

The tombstone in the east cloister of Westminster, which had on it the name of Gervasius de Blois, but was thought by Dean Stanley to cover the remains of Abbot Byrcheston and twenty-six monks who died of the black death in 1349, was at one time known as “Long Meg,” and was said to be the gravestone of “Long Meg of Westminster.” Long Meg of Westminster was a Lancashire lass, who, according to the story-book, came up to London with other country wenches by the carrier’s waggon to seek service, and she began her Metropolitan career by drubbing the carrier for charging ten shillings each for the ride to the great city. “The Life of Long Meg of Westminster,” printed in 1635, contains many particulars, but it has no good claims to authenticity. “Dr. Skelton” is represented as the object of her affections, and many curious anecdotes are told of her prowess, and of the emphatic manner in which she quelled the disturbances in the Eagle, in Westminster, where she was servitor. She volunteered for service when Henry VIII. went to Boulogne, in place of a man who had been impressed, and there behaved so stoutly as to win a pension. But though an Amazon abroad she was an obedient wife, and declined a bout at quarter-staff with her husband. “Never shall it be said, though I can swindge a knave that wrongs me, that Long Meg shall be her husband’s master; and therefore use me as you please.” As all persons have their detractors, so this “Lancashire lass” is said to have kept at Southwark for many years “a famous infamous house of open hospitality.” Those who desire to know how the Lancashire lass overcame the vicar and bailiff of Westminster, how she overthrew a Spanish knight, fought with thieves, beat the French at Boulogne, and performed many other Amazonian exploits, may consult the “Life of Long Meg,” which has been reprinted in the present century. A ballad about her was licensed in 1594, and in 1618 a play upon her exploits was a favourite at the Fortune Theatre. Ben Jonson describes her:—

“Or Westminster Meg,

With her long leg,

As long as a crane;

And feet like a plane,

With a pair of heels

As broad as two wheels.”

Amongst the proverbs cited by quaint old Fuller is one current in the seventeenth century—“As long as Meg of Westminster.”

The most famous of the Lancashire giants is the “Childe of Hale,” who was taken to Court in 1620 and presented to James I. His patron was Sir Gilbert Ireland, who “with some of the neighbouring Lancashire gentry dizened him off with large ruffs about his neck and hands; a striped doublet of crimson and white, round his waist, a blue girdle embroidered with gold; large white plush breeches, powdered with blue flowers; green stockings; broad shoes of a light colour, having high red heels and tied with large bows of red ribbon; and just below his knees were bandages of the same colour, with large bows, and by his side a sword, suspended by a broad belt over his shoulder, and embroidered, as his girdle, with blue and gold, with the addition of a gold fringe upon the edge. We are traditionally informed that his amazing size at the time frightened away some thieves who came to rob his mother’s house.” In this costume he is said to have struggled with the King’s wrestler, whose thumb he put out. This displeased some of the courtiers, and hence the King dismissed him with a present of £20. He returned home by Brasenose College, Oxford, which was then full of Lancashire students. Here, as we learn from Harland, his portrait was taken of full life-size, and is now to be seen in the College library. There is another likeness of him preserved at High Leigh; and an original painting of the “Chylde” is kept in the gallery at Hale Hall, bearing the following inscription:—“This is the true portraiture of John Middleton, the ‘Chylde of Hale,’ who was born at Hale, 1578, and was buried at Hale, 1623.” About eighty years ago the body is said to have been taken up, and the principal bones were for some time preserved at Hale Hall. The thigh bone, it is gravely stated, reached from the hip of a common man to his feet, and the rest measured in proportion. After some time the bones were reburied in the churchyard, but whereabouts is not known. He could only stand upright in the centre of the cottage in which he resided; and tradition states that he attained his wonderful stature in one night, in consequence of some spells and incantations that were practised against him. The Rev. William Stewart, in his “Memorials of Hale,” printed in 1848, says that “the cottage is now inhabited by Mr. Thomas Johnson, and is situated near the south-west corner of the Parsonage Green. A descendant of his family, Charles Chadwick, was living in 1804, and was more than six feet high.” There is every appearance of gross exaggeration in the accounts of the wonderful “childe.”

William Hone has given a portrait in the “Every-day Book” of the “Manchester gigantic boy,” exhibited at Bartholomew Fair, who was fourteen years old and stood 5 feet 2 inches, measured 5 feet round the body, 27 inches across the shoulders, 20 inches round the arm, 24 inches round the calf, 31 inches round the thigh, and weighed 22 stone. Hone gives his name as Whitehead, but William Wilkinson Westhead appears to be his correct designation. He was christened in the Collegiate Church 12th October, 1810, but is said to have been born in Glasgow. Murphy, the Irish giant, who stood seven feet and a half, and who died of small-pox at Marseilles in the 26th year of his age, is said to have begun life as a dock labourer at Liverpool.

At the other extremity may be mentioned Boardman, the Bolton dwarf, who claimed to be thirty-four years old, and to be only 38 inches in height. The showman claims to have received the patronage of the Royal Family at Ascot in 1819. Doubtless further inquiry would greatly add to these scattered notes of the Lancashire Anakim.

A Note on William Rowlinson.

A scrapbook made by William Rowlinson, first exhibited at a meeting of the Manchester Literary Club, and then liberally presented by Mr. Charles Roeder to the Manchester Free Library, is an interesting relic, and may justify a note on this now forgotten but promising young poet. It contains many newspaper cuttings, the earliest pages being devoted to his own compositions, and the remainder consisting of miscellaneous matter, chiefly poetical, that had attracted his attention.

William Rowlinson was born in 1805, it is believed, somewhere in the vicinity of Manchester. The family removed, for a time, to Whitby, but returned again to Manchester. He must early have developed a passion for writing, as contributions of his appear in the British Minstrel in 1824. The British Minstrel was a weekly periodical consisting of songs and recitations, old and new. The number for November 20th, 1824, contains two lyrics by Rowlinson (p. 171). The editor remarks, “We have received a letter from Mr. Rowlinson, of Manchester, and are obliged to him for the Originals enclosed. Mr. Wroe, of Ancoats’ Street, is our bookseller at Manchester; he, no doubt, will afford him every facility in communicating with us at any time he may have a packet for London.” A packet was sent, and is acknowledged in the number for December 25th, 1824. One of his lyrics appears in the last number of the British Minstrel, which came to an end January 22nd, 1825. His contributions are—“I’ll come to Thee” (p. 171). “It is not for Thine Eye of Blue” (p. 171). “Yes, Thyrsa, Yes” (p. 194). “Farewell Land of My Birth” (p. 197). “How Calm and Serene” (p. 303). “Think not when My Spirits” (p. 304). “Serenade” (p. 306). “Knowest Thou My Dearest” (p. 367). “How Sweet to Me” (p. 369). A copy of this volume has been placed in the Manchester Free Library by the present writer.

On the cessation of the British Minstrel, he began, in January, 1825, to write for Nepenthes, a Liverpool periodical. Still earlier, he is believed to have contributed to the Whitby Magazine.

From the age of eighteen to his death, at the age of twenty-four, he was a frequent and a welcome writer of prose and verse for the local periodicals. His range was by no means limited; he wrote art criticisms, essays in ethics, studies of modern poets, and verse in various styles and of varying quality. There is a musical flow about his lyrics that shows a genuine poetic impulse, but his talents had not time to ripen. His contributions to Nepenthes, British Minstrel, Phœnix, and Manchester Gazette have never been collected, and it is too late for the task to be either attempted or justified. An essay of his on Drunkenness is reprinted in the Temperance Star of May, 1890. The best of his poems is probably “Sir Gualter,” which is quoted in Procter’s “Literary Reminiscences” (p. 103). The same charming writer has devoted some pages to his memory in his “Memorials of Bygone Manchester” (p. 161). One example, “Babylon,” is given in Procter’s “Gems of Thought and Flowers of Fancy” (p. 47), and four lyrics appear in Harland’s “Lancashire Lyrics” (pp. 71-75). One of these, “The Invitation,” was printed—with another signature!—in the Crichton Annual, 1866. One of Rowlinson’s compositions—the “Autobiography of William Charles Lovell”—is said to be an account of his own experiences; this I have not seen. The story of his life is brief. He studied literature whilst earning his daily bread in a Manchester warehouse. He was a clerk in the employ of Messrs. Cardwell & Co., Newmarket Buildings, and to gratify his love of mountain scenery, he has been known to leave the town on Saturday night and walk to Castleton, in Derbyshire, and, after spending the Sunday there, walk home again through the night, to be ready for his Monday morning task. Literature did not wholly absorb him, for at twenty-four years of age he was a husband, with a son and an infant daughter. Early in 1829 he obtained a more congenial position as a traveller for the firm of Piggott, the famous compilers and publishers of directories. This gave him the opportunity of seeing Cambridge, where Kirke White is buried, and other places, whose historic and literary associations would appeal to his vivid imagination. But whilst enjoying thoroughly the beautiful scenery of the south, he pined for his northern home. Whilst bathing in the Thames he was drowned, June 22nd, 1829, and was buried in Bisham churchyard, on the 25th.[^[9]]

The Manchester Free Library has copies of the exceedingly rare Phœnix and Falcon, with the contributions of Rowlinson and others, identified in MS. In the Phœnix “Bag-o-nails,” an imitation of the “Noctes Ambrosianæ,” he appears as Jeremiah Jingler. These periodicals, and the scrapbook, make as complete a collection of his scattered writings as is now possible.

John Bolton Rogerson and R. W. Procter have each borne affectionate testimony to the moral worth and literary promise of William Rowlinson. Soon after his death there appeared in the Falcon some stanzas which declared,

“The great in soul from his earthly home,

In his youthful pride hath gone,

Where the bards of old will proudly greet

The Muses’ honoured son.

Oh, there is joy in the blessed thought

Thou art shrin’d on fame’s bright ray,

Though the stranger’s step is on thy grave

And thy friends be far away.”

We need not cherish illusions. The stranger’s step is on Rowlinson’s grave, but he is not “shrined on fame’s bright ray,” whatever and wherever that may be. No stone marks his grave, his very resting-place is unknown; we cannot even brush aside the grass from the forgotten and moss-grown tomb of William Rowlinson, one who perished in his early prime; whose music, faint, yet melodious, passed into silence before it could be shaped into a song the world would care to hear or to remember.

Footnotes:

[9]. I have to thank the Vicar (Rev. T. E. Powell) for searching the registers. There is no gravestone.

Literary Taste of the Eighteenth Century.

The literary tastes of our great-grandfathers may be supposed to be mirrored in a catalogue of the circulating library established in the middle of the last century at Manchester. The list of the subscribers includes the names of Mr. Edward Byrom, the Rev. Mr. Ethelston, Joseph Harrop, Titus Hibbert, Thomas Henry, Dr. Peploe, Richard Townley, and Dr. C. White. The late president of the Chetham Society had a book-loving predecessor, for the name of Mr. James Crossley is also in the list. The books are of a highly respectable character, and impress one with a favourable opinion of the pertinacity of those who could pursue knowledge tinctured with so slight a flavour of entertainment. Out of 452 books there are but twenty-two professing to be novels, and amongst these are “Don Quixote,” “Gil Blas,” “Devil upon Two Sticks,” “Sir Charles Grandison,” “Tristram Shandy,” and Sir Thomas More’s “Utopia.” The library had faith in “Fingal, an Ancient Epic Poem,” and patronised “Poet Ogden,” who wrote “The British Lion Roused.” Byrom, Deacon, and Callcott were also amongst their local authors. The readers who were tired of Mill’s “Husbandry” and of the “Principles of the Quakers Truly Represented,” might turn to Voltaire’s “Letters Concerning the English Nation,” or amuse themselves with Glanvill’s examination of “The Opinion of Eastern Sages Concerning the Pre-existence of Souls;” and if the daughter of the house obtained by chance the heterodox treatise which declares “Christianity as Old as the Creation,” she might have it changed for the “Young Misses’ Magazine,” or, still better, the “Matrimonial Preceptor.” Another fine avenue for the satisfaction of polite curiosity would be afforded by the study of the wonderful work in which Tobias Swinden discourses at large on the “Nature and Place of Hell,” and proves to his own satisfaction that “the fire of hell is not metaphorical but real,” and shows “the probability of the sun’s being the local hell.” At the end of the catalogue is an advertisement of a proposed musical circulating library, in which the neglect of church music is affirmed; “and if we continue our present fondness for things in the sing-song way, ’tis great odds but our present taste will be entirely changed, and, like some of our modern religious sects, we shall be so distressed as to rob the stage and playhouse to support and enrich our churches.” This is supported by a reference to “the Methodists, as they are call’d,” and their use of song tunes. The volume contains supplementary lists of additions down to June, 1768. These include the first edition of Chaucer and “The Vicar of Wakefield,” then in the early flush of fame. For the members not satisfied with Glanvill’s speculations, there had been added Berrow’s “Lapse of Human Souls in a State of Pre-existence,” and the studious character of the Mancunians received a delicate compliment by the purchase of Tissot’s “Treatise on the Diseases Incident to Literary Persons.” The additional subscribers included Mr. Nathaniel Philips, Rev. Mr. Dauntesey, and the Rev. John Pope. The number of works in the library in June, 1768, was 586, representing perhaps twice that number of volumes.

Hugh of Manchester:
A Statesman and Divine of the Thirteenth Century.[^[10]]

“Let me be the remembrancer,” says Fuller when describing the worthies of Lancashire, “that Hugh of Manchester in this county wrote a book in the reign of King Edward the First, intituled, ‘De Fanaticorum Deliriis’ (Of the Dotages of Fanatics). At which time an impostor had almost made Eleanor the queen-mother mad, by reporting the posthume miracles done by her husband, King Henry the Third, till this our Hugh settled her judgment aright. I could wish some worthy divine (with such Lancashire doth abound) would resume this subject, and shew how ancient and modern fanatics, though differing much in their wild fancies and opinions, meet together in a mutual madness and distraction.”