RIVINGTON AND THE LORDS WILLOUGHBY--THE PILKINGTONS--THE STORY OF A
LANCASHIRE BISHOP.
"No, sir, hardly a vestige of the old house remains, and even the
Willoughby coat of arms with the supporters, the ivy-wreathed savage
and the horseshoe-eating ostrich, that once adorned and gave dignity
to the outbuilding, has been taken away by sacrilegious hands, and now
only a blank space remains to show where once it was." Such was the
remark of a friend at whose hospitable abode in Heath-Charnock we were
spending a few days, a year or two ago, in reply to our inquiries as
to the present condition of Shaw Place, an ancient habitation on the
confines of Rivington, once the home of the Lords Willoughby of Parham.
But Rivington and its vicinity have other associations to claim
attention not less interesting than the fading memories of the extinct
Willoughbys. The tower-crowned summit of the Pike, rising to the height
of 1,545 feet above the sea level, calls to remembrance the stirring
times of the Armada, and the scarcely less anxious days of nearly a
century ago when our grandfathers were in daily dread of invasion, and
constant watch was kept in order that the beacon fire might flash the
signal of danger from hill to hill should their fears be realised; and
the "Two-lads," a double pile of stones on the further side, has its
tale of disaster to beguile the time if we care to listen to it. Those
bleak mountain ridges that stretch away towards the south were once
included within the limits of the great forest of Horwich, "a place
of great sport," as the old chroniclers have it, with its aëries of
eagles, of hawks, and of herons. Rivington was for centuries the home
of the Pilkingtons, "gentlemen of repute in their shire before the
Conquest," as old Fuller tells us; if tradition is to be relied on,
the chief of them bore himself bravely upon the red field of Hastings,
and when sought for by the victors for espousing the cause of the
defeated Harold, to avoid discovery, disguised himself as a mower, in
commemoration of which circumstance his descendants have ever since
borne the man and scythe for their crest. A scion of this ancient
house, Richard Pilkington, in the days of the Eighth Harry or shortly
after, founded the church of Rivington, and his son, James Pilkington,
who had suffered exile for the reformed faith in the time of the Marian
persecutions, was nominated by Queen Elizabeth first Protestant bishop
of the palatinate see of Durham, and was also founder of the Grammar
School at Rivington, an institution that to this day perpetuates his
name.
Our host having suggested a walk as far, we were nothing loth to act
upon his advice and renew acquaintance with a locality familiar to us
in earlier years. It was not the most favourable day for a pedestrian
ramble, for, though the rays of the February sun had made some feeble
attempts to wake the firstlings of the year from their long winter
sleep, the indications of spring had proved delusive, and King Frost
still held the vegetable world fast bound in his icy fetters. Of a
verity it might be said that the lingering winter chilled the lap of
spring, for though we had entered upon the month of March the crocus,
which, according to the old saw--
Blows before the shrine
At vernal dawn of St. Valentine
had not yet ventured forth as the harbinger of returning animation,
and even the tiny snowdrop, forerunner of the glorious train of summer
flowers, hid its drooping head beneath the fleecy robe of nature's
weaving from which it takes its name. Winter had returned upon us with
old-fashioned severity, and his keen breath had again begun--
To glaze the lakes, to bridle up the floods,
And periwig with snow the bald-pate woods.
The snow, which had fallen heavily during the night, enfolding the
earth in a downy mantle, had nearly ceased, and only a few stray
feathery flakes descended; the broad breezy moors that stretched their
length across the landscape were thickly covered, and it lay deep in
the cloughs and dingles that the storms of ages had channelled down
their sides. The hedgerows in their fleecy garniture assumed quaint and
indefinite shapes, and chequered the cold snow with their fantastic
shadows, and the few trees bordering the wayside stretched their naked
boles across the path, looking weird and gaunt and grim; but there
was neither colour nor savagery enough to make a picture--nothing but
a dull leaden gloom that left a saddening and depressing influence
upon the senses, instead of making glad the heart of the beholder. The
eddying wind that blew from the west broke in fitful gusts, and drove
the dark leaden cloud-rack and drifted sea-fog swiftly athwart the sky,
betokening a coming change; there was a rawness, too, in the atmosphere
that sent a chill through your veins, and everything seemed cold and
comfortless; while the few wayfarers you met looked sad and woe-begone,
and as sullen and ungenial as the weather. We missed the cheery
sunshine, and the sharp, crisp, nipping air of a clear, frosty day; but
for all that we trudged along with light heart and steady step, though
the roads were heavy, for the snow had melted in places, and now and
then we plunged ankle-deep in thick icy sludge that oozed through the
sodden ground.
The rounded summit of Rivington Pike--Riven Pike, as it was anciently
written--stands out boldly against the dull background of mist and
murkiness, and the little square tower that crowns its highest point
looks as if it had suddenly thrust its dark form up through the
surrounding whiteness. As we mount the higher ground the prospect
widens, and looking round the eye takes in a broad expanse of country.
In front, in addition to the "Pike," are the bleak moors of Rivington
and Anglezark; below, half hidden by the leafless woods, we get
occasional glimpses of the long lake-like reservoirs of the Liverpool
Corporation Waterworks. Northwards, where the smoke hangs like a
pall, is Chorley; and further on, had the day been clear, we might
have seen the tall chimneys of Preston and the gleaming waters of the
Ribble estuary. Duxbury, for centuries the home of the Standishes,
reminds us of the Puritan captain, Miles Standish, whom Longfellow has
immortalised:--
He was a gentleman born, could trace his pedigree plainly Back to Hugh
Standish, of Duxbury Hall, in Lancashire, England, Who was the son of
Ralph, and grandson of Thurstan de Standish--Heir unto vast estates,
of which he was basely defrauded; Still bore the family arms, and had
for his crest a cock, argent--Combed and wattled gules, and all the
rest of the blazon.
Hall-o'-th'-Hill was the dwelling place of the Asshawes, who were
also lords of Flixton; one of them--Sir Ralph--Mr. M'Dougall has made
the subject of the most pathetic of his legendary ballads; while
another--Ann--was the wife of that Richard Pilkington who built
Rivington Church, and the mother of James, the Puritan prelate, who
founded the school. Adlington lies below us; and beyond the view
takes in the great plain that stretches away to the Fylde, dotted
over with collieries and mills and loomsheds, that bear testimony
to the active industry of the people. Westwards, crowning a rocky
ridge that rises abruptly from the banks of the Douglas, we see the
village of Blackrod, with the battlemented tower of its ancient church
rising above the lowly habitations that gather round. The remains of
a Roman causeway, it is said, may still be traced along the summit,
and learned antiquaries confidently assure us that here the subjects
of the Cæsars had a military station--the _Coccium_ of Antoninus, and
the _Rigodunum_ of Ptolemy; though other antiquaries, equally learned,
with no less confidence and much more show of reason, tell us that
the old Roman station was not at Blackrod, but further north, at
Walton, on the Ribble. Whether the masters of the ancient world bore
the imperial eagles along those heights, and awoke the echoes with the
cry of "Ave! Cæsar Imperator!" we will not stay to inquire, but leave
others to determine. The snow lies like a great white carpet upon
the scene, spreading over moss and moor, and field and fell--a wide
wilderness of unsullied purity, broken only where the lanes wander and
the hedgerows cross and recross each other, or where a wooded bluff,
a solitary homestead, or some manufacturing hamlet stands out in
bold relief. Occasionally a faint gleam steals through a rift in the
shifting clouds, lighting up and beautifying some distant spot upon the
landscape; but the brightness is only transient, and the scene soon
resumes its cold grey monotonous gloom.
Presently the road bends to the right, and in a few minutes we reach
the entrance to a long straight avenue of beeches that leads down to
where the home of the Willoughbys once stood. Tall patrician trees
they are that border the way, and meet almost in a canopy overhead,
very patriarchs of their kind, that have withstood the winter's blast
and summer's sunshine, and budded and blossomed and shed their leaves
through long ages; but what time has failed to do sulphurous fumes
from a neighbouring tile kiln have effectually accomplished, and now
they present only the scathed and blighted semblance of their former
glory. At the end of the gravelled walk may still be seen the two tall
gate-posts that once flanked the entrance to the garden court; they
are massive in character, rusticated at the joints, and surmounted
by ball ornaments of ponderous size. To the right is a long range of
outbuilding, with a tablet high up on the gable bearing the inscription
W
H H
and the date 1705, from which we gather that it was erected by Hugh,
the twelfth Lord Willoughby, and the Lady Honora, his wife, in the
earlier years of Queen Anne's reign. On the side is a square panel
that was formerly adorned with the armorial ensigns of the house, but
the carved stone-work was taken away some few years ago, and, as we
were told, when last heard of was waiting for a claimant at a remote
railway station. The house itself has been rebuilt, and is now tenanted
by a farmer, a fragment of masonry on one side being the only portion
of the original mansion remaining.
The connection of the Willoughbys with this part of Lancashire
dates from about the middle of the seventeenth century, when Thomas
Willoughby acquired lands in the neighbourhood by his marriage with
Eleanor, daughter of Hugh Whittal, or Whittle, of Horwich, the
representative of an old Puritan family, ranking as substantial yeomen,
and a descendant, in all likelihood, of that Ralph Whittal of whom
Oliver Heywood makes mention when, alluding to his boyish experiences,
he says:--"Many days of prayer have I known my father keep among God's
people; yea, I remember a whole night wherein he, Dr. Bradshaw, Adam
Fearniside, Thomas Crompton, and several more did pray all night in a
parlour at Ralph Whittal's, upon occasion of King Charles demanding
the five members of the House of Commons.[11] Such a night of prayers,
tears, and groans I was never present at in all my life. The case was
extraordinary and the work extraordinary."[12]
The Willoughbys were a family of ancient and illustrious lineage,
deriving their patronymic from the manor of the same name in
Lincolnshire, where the parent stock had been seated almost from the
time of Duke William of Normandy. One of them, Sir William Willoughby,
in the reign of Henry III., signed the cross--in those days the highest
object of human ambition--and accompanied the young Prince Edward in
the expedition to Palestine to recover the holy places from the Moslem,
and, in allusion to some now long forgotten exploit there, adopted a
Saracen's head for his crest, which, on the Darwinian principle, has
since developed into the "Black Lad," the sign, at the present day, of
the village hostelry at Rivington. His warlike spirit was inherited by
his descendants, who shared in the glories of Crescy, Poitiers, and
Agincourt, and on many a well-fought field besides; bore their part in
the sanguinary struggle between the rival houses of York and Lancaster,
and were present at the final fight on Bosworth field--which alike put
an end to feudalism and the power of the barons--when the victorious
Richmond ascended the throne and terminated the fratricidal strife
by twining the white rose with the red. In acknowledgment of their
valorous deeds, they were at different times ennobled by the titles of
Lords Willoughby of Eresby, of Broke, of Parham, and of Monblay and
Beaumesguil.
Of this illustrious stock was one of whom we know just enough to make
us wish to know more--the brave Sir Hugh Willoughby, who defended
Lauder Castle in Berwickshire against both the French and Scots; and,
though suffering the severest privations, with a mere handful of men,
held it until peace was proclaimed; and who, as we are told, "by reason
of his goodly personage, as also for his singular skill in war," was
in 1553 chosen by "The Mystery, Company, and Fellowship of Merchant
Adventurers," to command the first Arctic expedition that ever left
the English shores--an expedition that was fated never to return, for
before a year had passed Sir Hugh, with the crews of two of his ships,
in all about 70 men, were frozen to death in the North Sea, about the
very time that his grand-niece, the Lady Jane Grey, and her husband,
Lord Guildford Dudley, perished upon the scaffold.
Such was the Briton's fate,
As with first prow (what have not Britons dared!)
He for the passage sought attempted since
So much in vain, and seeming to be shut
By jealous Nature with eternal bar,
In these fell regions in Arzina caught,
And to the stony deep his idle ship
Immediate seal'd; he with his hapless crew
Each full exerted at his several task,
Froze into statues; to the cordage glued
The sailor, and the pilot to the helm.
Scarcely had the solemn sound heard from the bell-towers of England,
announcing the decease of King Henry the Eighth, died away, when Sir
William Willoughby--descended through a younger line from William,
fifth Lord Willoughby de Eresby--was raised to the dignity of Baron
Willoughby of Parham, in Suffolk, the patent of his nobility bearing
date February 16, 1547, the very day on which the remains of the
defunct king were committed to the dust at Windsor. This Lord William,
from whom the future owners of Shaw Place derived their descent,
lived to a ripe old age, and died in 1574, leaving a son Charles, who
succeeded to the barony, and who was then married to the Lady Margaret
Clinton, a daughter of Queen Elizabeth's Lord High Admiral, Edward
Clinton, first Earl of Lincoln. By her he had several sons, among
them William, the eldest, who died in the lifetime of his father; Sir
Ambrose; and Thomas, whose descendants we shall have occasion to refer
to hereafter. Charles Lord Willoughby died in 1603, and was succeeded
in the honours of his house by his grandson William, who had espoused
the Lady Francis Manners, daughter of John, fourth Earl of Rutland, by
whom he had three sons, Henry, Francis, and William, who successively
became fourth, fifth, and sixth Lords Willoughby. Henry enjoyed the
title only for a short time, and died before attaining his majority.
Francis, who succeeded, married Elizabeth Cecil, a great granddaughter
of the famous Lord Treasurer, William Cecil, Lord Burghley. On the
breaking out of the great Civil War, he took sides against the King,
and had a command in the Parliament's army, but did not achieve any
great distinction; indeed he seems rather to have lacked the qualities
that generals are made of. Early in the summer of 1643 he seized
Gainsborough, and held it for the Parliament; but on the news reaching
the Marquis of Newcastle, he despatched a force out of Yorkshire under
General Cavendish, who laid siege to the town, whereupon, Cromwell, who
had just taken Burleigh House, the seat of the Cecils, hastened with
his Huntingdonshire troopers, and a few regiments of Lincolnshire and
Nottinghamshire horse to the relief of the beleaguered garrison, and
attacked and defeated the Royalist forces, Cavendish being killed in
the encounter.
In connection with Lord Willoughby's occupation of Gainsborough an
incident occurred which is worth recording. On the capture of the
town several persons of rank were made prisoners, including Robert
Pierrepoint, Earl of Kingston, surnamed the "Good." When it was known
that the Royalists were advancing, Willoughby, to prevent the Earl's
escape, had him placed in a pinnace and conveyed to Hull. While on
the voyage Cavendish, in ignorance that so distinguished a companion
in arms was on board, ordered his men to fire upon the vessel, and
an unlucky shot struck his lordship and killed him on the spot. Mrs.
Lucy Hutchinson, in her "Memoirs" of her husband, gives the popular
version of the story, from which it appears that when Kingston was
first invited to join the Royalists, "he made a serious imprecation
on himself: 'When,' said he, 'I take arms with the King against the
Parliament, or with the Parliament against the King, let a cannon
bullet divide me between them,'" "which God," she says, "was pleased to
bring to pass a few months after; for he, going into Gainsborough, and
there taking up arms for the King, was surprised by my Lord Willoughby,
and, after a handsome defence of himself, yielded, and was put
prisoner into a pinnace, and sent down the river to Hull, when my Lord
Newcastle's army, marching along the shore, shot at the pinnace, and,
being in danger, the Earl of Kingston went up upon the deck to show
himself, and to prevail on them to forbear shooting; but as soon as he
appeared a cannon bullet flew from the King's army and divided him in
the middle, being then in the Parliament's pinnace; who thus perished
according to his own unhappy imprecation."
The "notable victory," as he phrased it, gained by the embryo Lord
Protector at Gainsborough, though it proved insufficient in raising
the siege, yet afforded an early example of that decision, energy, and
valour for which Cromwell subsequently became so famous. Whitelocke,
in his "Memorials," says that this gallant encounter with Newcastle's
forces was "the beginning of Cromwell's great fortunes, and he now
began to appear in the world." If it made the name of the Lord of the
Fens, as he had been previously designated, a familiar word throughout
England, it did not add much lustre to that of Lord Willoughby. He
was obliged to surrender Gainsborough; and Lincoln, whither he had
retreated, had also to be given up to the victorious Royalists. In a
desponding letter to Cromwell, written from Boston, August 5th, 1643,
he says:--"Since the business of Gainsborough the hearts of our men
have been so deaded that we have lost most of them, by running away,
so that we were forced to leave Lincoln upon a sudden; and if I had
not done it then I should have been left alone." His position even at
Boston seems to have been very precarious, for he adds, "If you will
endeavour to stop my Lord of Newcastle, you must presently draw them
(the Parliamentarian forces) to him and fight him, for without we be
masters of the field we shall be pulled out by the ears one after
the other." In the same letter he pathetically remarks, "You see by
this how sadly your affairs stand. It's no longer disputing, but out
instantly all you can; raise all your bands, send them to Huntingdon;
get up what volunteers you can; hasten your horses; send these letters
to Norfolk, Sussex, and Essex, without delay. I beseech you spare
not, but be expeditious and industrious. Almost all our foot have
left Stamford; there is nothing to interrupt the enemy but our horse.
You must act lively; do it without distraction. Neglect no means."
Willoughby was evidently not the kind of general that a soldier of
Cromwell's daring and resource could patiently act under, and that
worthy was not long in expressing his opinion to the Parliament, for we
find him a few months later in the House of Commons complaining of "my
Lord Willoughby's backwardness as a general." He who could not "hold
out" at Gainsborough and Lincoln, and who wrote from Boston expecting
himself and his men to be "pulled out by the ears one after the
other," was certainly not the right man in the right place according
to the Ironside standard; and it was not long, therefore, before he
was, on Cromwell's suggestion, removed from his command and the Earl of
Manchester appointed in his stead.
Though as a general Lord Willoughby might not come up to Cromwell's
standard, he nevertheless did "very considerable service for the
Parliament in Lincolnshire," as Whitelocke affirms, "and manifested
as much courage and gallantry as any man in the service," and it is
evident that, for some time at least, he retained the confidence and
esteem of the ruling powers, for in December, 1645, on the close of
the first war, his name appears among those who were to have dignities
and honours conferred upon them, an earldom being assigned to him; and
about the same time, in the overtures for pacification, he was named
one of the commissioners to the Scots' army, then lying before Newark,
an appointment that gave great umbrage to the war party. Willoughby was
a staunch Presbyterian, determinedly opposed to kingly prerogative,
a devoted admirer of the Parliament, and possessed withal of much
real zeal for the liberties of his country, but he was not altogether
destitute of loyal feeling or prepared to
Hew the throne
Down to a block.
Dissension had sprung up in the ranks of the two great rebel factions,
resulting in a general confusion of political principles in the dread
of political supremacy. Fearing for the safety of the Constitution, and
believing that his associates were proceeding to too great lengths, he
went over to the side of the King, a procedure that aroused the hatred
of the Parliament party, who became as eager to effect his overthrow as
they had previously been to compass the death of Strafford. On the 8th
of September, 1647, he was impeached of high treason by the Commons,
but, the impeachment for some cause or other not being proceeded with,
he appealed to the Lords, on the 17th January following, to be set at
liberty. His request was complied with, and on regaining his freedom
he immediately sought refuge in Holland, the House subsequently,
"being in a good humour," as we are told, discharging the impeachment.
Whitelocke says:--
He was in the beginning of the troubles very hearty and strong for
the Parliament, and manifested great personal courage, honour, and
military as well as civil abilities, as appears by his actions and
letters, whilst he was in the service of the Parliament. In whose
favour and esteem he was so high that they voted him to be general
of the horse under the Earl of Essex, and afterwards to be an Earl.
But having taken a disgust of the Parliament's declining of a
personal treaty with the King, and being jealous that monarchy, and
consequently degrees and titles and honour, were in danger to be
wholly abolished, he was too forward in countenancing and assisting
the late tumults in the city, when the members of Parliament were
driven away from Westminster to the army. Upon the return of the
members he was, with other lords, impeached of high treason for that
action, and rather than appear and stand a trial for it he left his
country and revolted to the King, and was now with the Prince in his
navy, for which the Commons voted his estates to be secured.
Rupert was at the time carrying on privateering hostilities against
the Parliament with such energy that, as was said, a packet-boat
could hardly sail from Dover without being pillaged, unless it had a
convoy. Willoughby accepted a commission, and became admiral of the
Prince's fleet, and in the month of August, 1648, while in the Downs,
was fortunate enough to intercept and capture a vessel returning from
Guiana with a cargo of merchandise and £20,000 in gold.
The year following the execution of the King he went out to Barbadoes,
established himself as governor, and proclaimed Charles II. king.
On hearing of this exploit, Cromwell's government despatched Sir
George Ascue with a fleet to effect the reduction of the place; after
several ineffectual attempts to obtain submission he landed a force
and stormed the fortress, when Lord Willoughby, fearing a revolt of
the garrison, yielded on honourable terms, which included protection
for the enjoyment of his estates. He then returned to England, but
the Republicans, being doubtful of his loyalty to the Commonwealth,
caused him to be committed to the Tower (June, 1655) on the charge of
high treason. He must have remained in confinement for a considerable
period, for two years later we find him petitioning Cromwell for
permission to go into the country to despatch some necessary business
in relation to his estates, and promising to return to prison--a
request that was complied with. He subsequently obtained his release,
and, after the death of Cromwell, appears to have co-operated with Monk
in effecting the dissolution of the Commonwealth and the recall of the
exiled Stuarts.
The year which followed the Restoration was to Lord Willoughby a year
of sorrow, and the joy with which he had greeted that event was quickly
overshadowed by a great domestic affliction. Ere a year had rolled
round from the time when Charles landed at Dover he lost, within the
short space of a few days, both his eldest son and his wife. Samuel
Hartleb, in two of his letters written at the time to his friend Dr.
Worthington,[13] alludes to these painful events. Writing on March
26, 1661, he says: "My Lord Willoughby's eldest son is dead. My Lady
Willoughby is also dangerously sick, which is all I have to add;" and
a week later he writes: "His (Mr. Brereton's)[14] mother-in-law (Lady
Willoughby) is dead also."
Shortly afterwards Lord Willoughby was appointed to the governorship
of Barbadoes, a post he continued to hold until 1656, when he was
unfortunately drowned during a hurricane that swept over the island, an
occurrence that Pepys thus alludes to in his "Diary:"--
November 29th (1666). I late at the office, and all the news I hear
I put into a letter this night to my Lord Brouncker at Chatham,
thus--"I doubt not of your lordship's hearing of Sir Thomas Clifford's
succeeding Sir H. Pollard in the Controllership of the King's house;
but perhaps our ill (but confirmed) tidings from the Barbadoes may
not have reached you yet, it coming but yesterday; viz., that about
eleven ships (whereof two of the King's, the Hope and Coventry), going
thence to attack St. Christopher's, were seized by a violent hurricane
and all sank, two only of thirteen escaping, and these with loss of
masts, &c. My Lord Willoughby himself is involved in the disaster, and
I think two ships thrown upon an island of the French, and so all the
men (500) became prisoners."
Lord Willoughby having no surviving male issue, the titles and estates
devolved upon his younger brother, William, who, in 1672, was also
appointed Governor of Barbadoes, and to whom Evelyn, in his diary, thus
refers:--
April 16th (1672). Sat in Council preparing Lord Willoughby's
Commission and instructions as Governor of Barbadoes and the Caribbé
Islands.
He died at Barbadoes, April 10th, 1673, having held the post barely
a year. His lordship married Ann, one of the daughters of Sir Philip
Carey, of Stanwell, county Middlesex, who bore him with other issue,
three sons--George, his heir, and John and Charles, who eventually
through failure of direct descent successively inherited the honours of
the house.
George, the eldest son, who succeeded, died in the following year,
leaving by his wife Elizabeth, eldest daughter and co-heir of Henry
Fynes-Clinton, of Kirkstead, in Lincolnshire, grandson of Henry,
second Earl of Lincoln, a son, John Willoughby, who succeeded, but he
dying issueless in 1678, the barony reverted to his uncle, John, son
of George, the seventh lord. This nobleman died before the close of
the year, and, having no surviving male issue, the title and estates
passed to his younger brother, Charles, who succeeded as tenth baron,
and who was then married to Mary, daughter of Sir Beaumont Dixie. He
did not, however, long enjoy the honours, his death occurring in the
following year, and being, like so many of his predecessors, childless,
the barony remained for a time in abeyance; the vast estates in
Lincolnshire passing meanwhile, in accordance with the provisions of
his will, to his niece Elizabeth, only daughter of George, seventh Lord
Willoughby, and then wife of the Hon. James Bertie, eventually second
Earl of Lincoln.
On the failure of the elder line by the death of Lord Charles without
issue, the barony should by right have reverted to the heir of Sir
Ambrose, second son of Charles, the second Lord Willoughby; but Sir
Ambrose's grandson, Henry Willoughby, being then settled in Virginia,
whither the "Pilgrim Fathers," who, "well weaned from the delicate milk
of their mother-country," had gone some years before, and having no
knowledge of the failure, took no steps to establish his claim. Under
these circumstances, and in the belief that the line of Sir Ambrose was
extinct, the barony was erroneously adjudged to Sir Thomas Willoughby,
son and heir of Sir Thomas, the fifth and youngest son of Charles, the
second lord, who, as previously stated, was then settled in Lancashire,
having married Eleanor, daughter of Hugh Whittle, of Horwich, the
representative of a noted Puritan family, whose religious opinions he
had embraced.
The broad lands of the oldest line of the Willoughbys, as we have
seen, passed by distaff to the Earls of Abingdon; the representative
of the younger stock, who had summons to Parliament 19th May, 1685,
being left the while to support the title with an estate of very
modest proportions--the fortune his father had acquired in marriage
with a yeoman's daughter. Sir Thomas Willoughby had attained to the
ripe old age of 82 when he succeeded to the barony, and he lived to
enjoy it for a period of nearly seven years, his death occurring in
February, 1691-2. Born in the last year of Elizabeth's golden reign, he
had witnessed the accession of James, and lived through the eventful
reigns of the Stuart sovereigns. He had passed the meridian of life
when Charles was brought to the block; had experienced Republicanism
under Cromwell; had seen the restoration of Monarchy in the person
of Charles's son; the re-establishment of Episcopacy, and the "Black
Bartholomew," as the Dissenters love to designate the day on which the
Nonconforming divines, preferring conscience to emolument, withdrew
from the Church; and had lived long enough to see the feudal supremacy
of the Crown, which had lasted for nearly six hundred years, abolished,
when the second James was sent by his betrayed subjects to expiate
his offences in exile, and the "bloodless revolution" set the Prince
of Orange upon the throne, and paved the way for the succession of the
House of Brunswick. Lord Willoughby's wife, Eleanor Whittle, who died
in 1665, bore him, with other issue, two sons--Hugh, who succeeded as
his heir, and Francis, who married Eleanor Rothwell, of Haigh, and by
her had three sons, Thomas, who died unmarried, and Edward and Charles,
who, on the death of their uncle, succeeded in turn to the title and
estates.
Hugh Willoughby, who, on the death of his father in 1691-2, succeeded
as twelfth baron, was then 65 years of age, having been born in 1627.
He had married in early life Anne, daughter of Lawrence Halliwell,
of Tockholes, in Blackburn parish, and by her had a son, Thomas, who
died in infancy; she died in 1690, at the age of 52, and shortly after
his accession to the barony he again entered the marriage state,
taking for his second wife the youthful widow of Sir William Egerton,
K.B., of Worsley, brother of John, third Earl of Bridgewater--the
Lady Honora, daughter of Sir Thomas Leigh, son and heir of Thomas
Lord Leigh, of Stoneleigh, and the great-granddaughter of Sir Thomas
Egerton, the renowned Lord Chancellor--the lady numbering 19 summers,
while Lord Willoughby had attained the mature age of 55. His lordship
was an uncompromising, and, it is to be feared, not over scrupulous
Presbyterian. Sir Henry Ashurst, in a Dedication of the Life of
Nathaniel Heywood, the Puritan Vicar of Ormskirk, written by his
brother Oliver, to this Lord Hugh, speaks of his "exemplary piety and
zeal for our holy religion in such a degenerate and licentious age, and
the countenance he gave to serious piety, wherever he found it, among
all the different parties into which we are so unhappily broken," but
the occasional references to him in Henry Newcome's autobiography,
leads us to doubt the justness of the Presbyterian writer's panegyric.
Under date Thursday, September 7, 1693, Newcome writes:--
We went with several others to welcome the Lord Willoughby to house,
and stayed till after eight, in much freedom; and parted with a psalm
and prayer.
The occasion would probably be that of his lordship's first coming to
his wife's house--the old hall of Worsley, in Eccles parish, where
he spent a good deal of his time--but it was not long before the old
Puritan divine had occasion to speak in a less cheerful tone. Thus, he
writes:--
May 5 (1694). The Lord Willoughby was with me, and the Lord helped me,
to deal plainly with him, and he took it as I could desire.
And a few months later:--
Aug. 4. I was troubled about Lord Willoughby and went out to have
spoken with him, but though he was not at home, he called on me on his
return, and I eased myself by speaking freely to him; and he seemed to
take it well, and I hope it may do him good. This greatly revived me.
Lord Willoughby busied himself greatly in the religious affairs of
the county, and was not unfrequently a cause of disquiet to Episcopal
dignitaries from his confused ideas of _meum_ and _tuum_ in regard to
ecclesiastical funds. The parson of Horwich found him an exceedingly
unpleasant neighbour, and poor James Rothwell, the vicar of Dean,
complained bitterly to the bishop of his wrong doing. Rothwell's
predecessor, Richard Hatton, had not renounced the Covenant; but had,
nevertheless been inducted into the vicarage by a kind of dispensing
power. One illegal appointment led to another. The Nonconforming vicar
of the church appointed a Nonconforming preacher to the Episcopal
chapel. The Dissenters having thus got the chapel into their hands
through the "contrivance" of Lord Willoughby, held possession for
many years, and were only induced in the long run to surrender to
the ecclesiastical authorities to escape a costly litigation. When
Rothwell had got rid of the intruders, and recovered possession of the
chapel, he found that he could not get possession of the endowment,
as the trustees, who were Presbyterians, were appropriating it to the
support of a minister of their own persuasion, and, "against justice
and honesty," were going to "build a meeting house with part of the
money, and apply the remaining part towards supporting a Presbyterian
teacher." He had complained to the bishop, but failing, as it would
seem, to obtain redress, addressed the following letter to Dr.
Wroe--"Silver-tongued Wroe"--the warden of Manchester, urging his
intercession:--
Bolton Sep. 21, 1717.
Revd Sr.--I thought it necessary to send you ye following account of
Horwich Chappel, wch I desire you to transmit to my Lord Bishop of
Chester. This Chappel is three miles distant from ye Parish Church, &
ye revenue belonging to it is commonly said to be about 9 or 10li. p.
ann. being ye Interest of about 200li. belonging to it, & for a more
full proof of ys, I here give my following Testimony.
But in ye first place it may be convenient to acquaint you yt ys
Chappel has for above ys 20 years last past been in ye hands of ye
Dissenters through ye contrivance of ye late Lord Willoughby, and ye
connivance of my Predecessour (Richard Hatton.) But wn my Lord Bp.
of Chester was upon his visitation at Manchester, I acquainted his
Lordship wth ys matter, & his Lordship commanded me to give Mr. Walker
ye Dissenting Teacher notice to desist, wch accordingly I did, & he
submitted to his Lordship's commands. Immediately after ys I put into
ye Chappel a Conformable clergyman, who has supplied ye Cure ever
since, wch is above one whole year; and tho' I gave him ye Surplice
Dues of ye Chappelray wch is all yt belongs to me in yt part of ye
Parish, & two pounds p. ann. besides, yet ys wth his contributions,
wch is all yt he has had to subsist on thus far, has not exceeded
14li. And when he demanded ye Interest of ye Chappel Stock during ye
time of his Incumbency, ye Trustees for ys money being Dissenters,
tell me they will not pay it, till they be forced to do it. Now one
of these Trustees has told me, & several others, yt ye Chappel Stock
is one hundred & ninety pounds; & about two months ago he showed Some
bonds yt was made unto him upon ye account, to ye Sum of about 80li.
And there are now several living witnesses, yt can & do testify, yt
ye Interest of ye said Chappel Stock was paid to Episcopal conforming
clergy men, yt officiated at Horwich Chappel during ye Reigns of
King Charles ye 2nd: King James ye 2nd: And till some time after ye
Revolution; and tho' ys money as it is said was given to all intents &
purposes towards mentaining a Curate yt should supply ye sd Chappel,
yet both against justice and honesty these Trustees have sent me word,
yt they will build a meeting house wth part of ys money, & apply ye
remaining part towards Supporting a Presbyterian Teacher; wt now is to
be done in ys affair, I humbly desire my Lord Bp. of Chester's opinion
& direction with your own,
Who am your most Humble & most obedient Servt: JA: ROTHWELL
For The Reverend Dr. Wroe, Warden of Manchester.
Bishop Gastrell, in his "Notitia," describes the chapel as "ancient"
and "consecrated." It certainly was in existence in 1565, for in that
year it was visited by the commissioners for removing superstitious
ornaments. The money which through the "contrivance" of Lord Willoughby
and the Dissenting trustees was being thus misapplied is said to have
been recovered (that is, so much of it as was not lost in expensive
litigation) in 1724. On another occasion, at Coppul, a neighbouring
township, we find Lord Willoughby busying himself in church affairs,
and joining with others in open resistance to constituted authority;
breaking open the doors of the Episcopal Chapel, and defying the bishop
when he sought to remove an unlicensed curate, Mr. Ingham, who had
given offence by his immoral life and the solemnisation of clandestine
marriages. Ellenbrook, also an Episcopal Chapel, in close proximity
to Lady Willoughby's house at Worsley, had also unpleasant experience
of his lordship's active but mistaken zeal, for Bishop Gastrell, in
his "Notitia Cestriensis," remarks:--"There was a Suit depending about
this Chap.(el) an.(no) 1693, bet.(ween) the Bp. and Ld. Willoughby of
Parham. V.(ide) Mr. Kenyon's Letters." The chapel had been endowed
in 1581 by Dorothy, daughter of Sir Richard Egerton, of Ridley, and
wife of Sir Richard Brereton, of Worsley, who in her widowhood married
Sir Peter Legh, of Lyme, Knt., and her endowment would appear to have
fallen into the hands of Nonconformists during the period of the
Usurpation.
Lord Willoughby died in June, 1712, at the age of 75; his wife the Lady
Honora, survived him and maintained her widowhood for the long period
of 38 years, dying in 1750, at the age of 77. Having no surviving
issue, the title and estates devolved upon his nephew, Edward--the
eldest surviving son of Francis, second son of Thomas, the eleventh in
succession in the barony, and his wife, Eleanor Rothwell, of Haigh--who
was at the time serving as a private soldier in the confederate army
in Flanders. He enjoyed the title only for a few months, his death
occurring in April of the following year. Being childless, the family
honours and possessions reverted to his younger brother, Charles,
who married Hester, daughter of Henry Davenport, of Darcy Lever, an
offshoot of the old Cheshire family of that name, and by her had
issue, in addition to a son Hugh, his heir, two daughters, Helena and
Elizabeth.
Hugh, who succeeded as fifteenth Lord Willoughby, was an infant at the
time of his father's decease (July 12, 1715). He was brought up in
the Presbyterian faith, but appears to have been less demonstrative
in the assertion of it than some of his progenitors; at all events
his neighbours found him much less troublesome in that respect than
his grandfather had been. Cole, the Cambridge antiquary, describes
him as a Presbyterian "of the most rigid class," and remarks that he
had heard "Mr. Coventry, of Magdalen College, Cambridge, declare that
his conscience was so nice that he could not bring himself to receive
the sacrament in the Church of England on his knees without scruple
and thought it idolatry." He resided for the most part in London, but
when at Shaw Place he usually attended the Nonconformist chapel at
Rivington. It is said, though apparently on slender foundation, that
when in London he professed himself a strict Churchman, and that some
of his friends there, hearing that he was in the habit of worshipping
with the Nonconformists when at Rivington, took him to task, whereupon
he forsook the chapel and became a worshipper at Horwich Church. The
accuracy of the story may very well be doubted. His lordship lived
and died in the faith of his fathers; the canopied pew he was wont to
occupy in Rivington chapel may still be seen, though the glories of its
decoration have become somewhat faded; and at his death he bequeathed
£100, the interest of which helps to pay its minister's stipend at the
present day. He was more of a philosopher than a polemic, and a liberal
patron of literature and art. In 1752 he succeeded Martin Foulkes as
Vice-president of the Royal Society, and two years later he was elected
to the honourable position of President of the Society of Antiquaries.
It was in this latter capacity that John Byrom, of Manchester,
addressed to him his famous poetical letter "On the Patron of England,"
and facetiously started the question whether _Georgius_ was not a
mistake for _Gregorius_, contending for the non-existence of St.
George of Cappadocia or any other George as patron saint of England,
and calling upon the society to say whether England's patron was a
knight or a pope. The _jeu d'esprit_ startled the sedate president,
and drew forth a serious rejoinder from the learned Dr. Pegge in his
"Observations on the History of St. George."[15] Lord Willoughby filled
the office of Chairman of Committees of the House of Lords for a
considerable period; he was also a Trustee of the British Museum, one
of the Commissioners of Longitude, and Vice-president of the Society
for the Encouragement of the Fine Arts. When the Dissenting Academy,
at Warrington, was founded in the latter half of the last century, his
lordship was chosen to be the first president, the Presbyterians, as
Dr. Halley says, being "with pardonable vanity in their declension fond
of exhibiting the relics of their former glory." He died unmarried, at
his residence in London, February 9, 1765, at the age of 54, and, in
accordance with his expressed desire, was buried in the family vault at
Horwich Church. When some years ago the present fabric was erected on a
site a few yards distant from the old structure, his remains were, at
the expense of his grand-nephew, Mr. Charles Leigh, of Wigan, removed
from their resting place in front of the communion rails, and placed in
a vault in the churchyard, over which a stone bearing the family arms
and the following inscription was placed:--
In memory of the Right Hon. Hugh, 15th Baron Willoughby, of Parham,
who resided at Shaw Place, in this county, and who died on the 21st
of January, 1765, at his house in London, unmarried, aged 54 years.
Also of Eleanor, daughter of William Wood, of Aspull, Esq., and wife
of Charles Leigh, grand-nephew of the above Hugh. She died 21st of
January, 1858, in the 57th year of her age.
Of the two sisters of Lord Willoughby, Helena, the eldest, became
the wife of Baxter Roscoe, by whom she had two daughters and a son,
Ebenezer Roscoe, who married his cousin Hannah, daughter of John Shaw,
and dying in January, 1766, left an only daughter, Helena, who died
at the age of 19 in 1794. The eldest of the two daughters married
Mr. Fisher, and the younger became the wife of Mr. Leigh, from whom
Mr. Charles Leigh, mentioned in the inscription just cited, claimed
descent. Elizabeth, the younger sister of Lord Willoughby, became the
wife of John Shaw, of Rivington, and had by him a son, named after his
father, and a daughter Hannah, who, as already stated, married her
cousin, Ebenezer Roscoe. Surviving him, she again entered the marriage
state, her second husband being the Rev. William Heaton, incumbent of
Rivington, and Head Master of Bishop Pilkington's Grammar School.
On the death of Lord Willoughby the barony again fell into abeyance.
For a period of 80 years, that is from 1685, when Sir Thomas Willoughby
had summons to Parliament, to the decease of Hugh, Lord Willoughby,
in 1765, the bearers of the title had been only suppositious lords.
As previously stated, the honours should of right have reverted to
the descendants of Sir Ambrose, the second son of Charles, the second
baron, but they, having settled in America and remaining in ignorance
of the default, did not put forward their claim, and hence the barony
was erroneously adjudged. Henry Willoughby, the grandson of Sir
Ambrose, who settled in Virginia, died there in 1685, leaving a son of
the same name, who married Elizabeth, daughter of William Pidgeon, of
Stepney, near London, and by her had, with other issue, two sons, Henry
and Fortune. This Henry, when the barony fell into abeyance in 1765,
claimed to be the representative of Sir Ambrose, and in 1767 his right
was established by a decree of the House of Lords as the great-grandson
and heir male of the body of Sir Ambrose, and consequently heir male of
Sir William Willoughby, who was elevated to the dignity of a baron by
the title of Lord Willoughby of Parham in 1547. Mr. Henry Willoughby
thereupon became sixteenth lord, and took his seat in the Upper House
on April 25th, 1767. He died January 29th, 1775, leaving by his wife
Susannah, daughter of Robert Gresswell, an only daughter, Elizabeth,
who married (first) John Halsey, of Tower Hill, London, and (second)
Edward Argles. His lordship having no male heir, the title devolved
upon his nephew George, son of Fortune Willoughby by his wife Hannah,
daughter of Thomas Barrow, and widow of Cooke Pollitt, of Swanscombe,
who succeeded as seventeenth baron, but dying issueless in 1779 the
barony, which had been in existence from the first year of Edward the
Sixth's reign, became extinct.
After a brief inspection of the modernised home of the Willoughbys
and the ancient outbuilding adjacent, which happily still
remains--"standing," as has been well said, "like a faded, tarnished
court-train wearing out in the service of the descendants of its
original proprietor's lady's maid"--we bent our steps in the direction
of the old chapel at Rivington, where the family worshipped, and where
many of their kin sleep their long sleep.
Descending into the valley, we pass through a plantation that has been
formed by the side of one of the large reservoirs of the Liverpool
Corporation Waterworks. The tall trees stand out in all their nakedness
against the background of snow, looking black, and grim, and spectral
like, though relieved in some measure by the bright-hued holly bushes,
the glossy-leaved laurels, and the other hardy shrubs, that try to
look cheery and make a pretty show. Below, where, in summer time,
the far-spreading water reflects the surrounding beauty and flashes
and glitters in the mellow sunlight, there is now only a dull leaden
glaze, for the returning spring has not yet thawed the mantle of ice
in which the hard hand of winter has enfolded it. Across the valley
the smoke curls upwards from some unseen habitation, else we might
fancy the inhabitants had fled, for neither flocks nor herds are to
be seen in the fields; even the rook as he sails listlessly overhead
looks dull and dejected, and the fieldfares huddle themselves up in the
leafless branches as if they had lost heart; all around is still and
cold and lifeless, save that now and then the hedge sparrows set up a
twittering as unmusical as the grating of a knife-grinder's wheel, and
that sprightly little fellow, the red-breasted robin, trills out his
song from the naked hawthorn spray where the tiny buds are striving to
break forth. Presently we come to a little lodge, and then, turning
to the left, cross the embankment that separates the lower from the
upper and larger Rivington lake. At the other end a short length of
road straggles upwards towards the village--rough and stony withal, and
fenced in places with patches of broken wall, built up of loose stones
that time has softened into beauty and decked with moss and lichen and
a wealth of clingy ivy.
[Illustration: RIVINGTON CHURCH.]
A quiet, picturesque spot is this same little village of Rivington.
There is an air of calm repose and pastoral serenity about it that
is pleasant to contemplate. Here the busy hum of looms and spindles
is never heard, and, though the shrill whistle of the locomotive may
occasionally find an echo, the railway itself maintains a respectful
distance, and hides away as if afraid to disturb the peaceful quietude.
The church stands a little way back from the road upon a gentle
acclivity, from which it overlooks the humbler dwellings that gather
round, but without the least air of pretentiousness. It has an ancient
and weather-worn appearance, though the present fabric dates no further
back than the time of the second Charles; a little octagon cupola rises
from the western gable, and the crumbling ruins of an old campanile
that now serves as a depository for lumber may be seen in a corner of
the quiet graveyard. A little higher up on the other side, crowning a
grassy knoll, is the modest meeting-house we are in search of; on the
lower slope of what answers for the village green two or three cottages
stand at irregular distances from each other and on the opposite side
of a little hollow that intervenes is, or rather was, the old grammar
school, for it is "old" no longer, the reforming Charity Commissioners
having lately overhauled the good bishop's foundation, and caused a new
elementary school to be erected on the site; and, in addition, have
built a larger and more convenient grammar school near the southern
end of the lower lake. The houses are few in number, and are scattered
irregularly about in a promiscuous, hap-hazard, stand-at-ease sort of
way, without any regard to order or uniformity, so that it is hard to
say where the village proper really begins, unless we assume that the
village hostelry below the church bank, standing, as it does, with its
door invitingly open, may be taken as indicating the threshold. But the
"Black-boy," which perpetuates, though very imperfectly, the heraldic
honours of the Willoughbys, submitting to the onward march of events,
has had to change its position, the site its more primitive possessor
occupied having been absorbed when the adjacent reservoir was made.
The memory of a former Boniface of that ancient hostelry is still
cherished by the villagers, and quaint stories are told respecting
him. The old worthy, it seems, combined with the duties of host on
week-days those of chief musician at the chapel on Sundays; his chosen
instrument being the violoncello, or "th' great-gronfaither fiddle,"
as the inhabitants of the little Arcadia were wont to call it; a
clarionet and a deep-mouthed but somewhat hiccupy bassoon completing
the orchestra, the performers being chosen, like Cremona fiddles, more
for age than looks or excellence, enough if only they could produce a
sufficient foundation of sound whereon the congregation might raise
their superstructure of song. Anniversary sermons and similar high days
and festivals were those on which the host of the "Black-boy" put forth
his utmost energies, and showed to greatest advantage. Surrounded by
a troop of school children, and a galaxy of rustic beauty arrayed in
white, and his choir strengthened by the addition of
The flute,
And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife,
he then laboured at his bass viol with such energy, that, as is
related, on one occasion, being overcome with the sense of his own
importance, and the extra exertion necessary for the successful
rendering of "Fixed in his everlasting seat," he missed the centre of
gravity, toppled over and smashed his monster fiddle.
The chapel in which the Willoughbys worshipped stands, as we have
said, at the further end of the village; it is a modest looking
structure, and, in its externals at least, plain and simple enough to
satisfy the requirements of the most rigid and lugubrious Puritan. But
the authoress of "Lancashire Memories" has given such an exquisite
description of it that we cannot refrain from reproducing her sketch:
"A little gray, old stone building," she says, "half covered with ivy,
and one bell that rang, and rang, from ten o'clock until the minister
was fairly seated in the pulpit. The pews were gray and worm-eaten,
of all sizes and shapes. Some seemed not to have borne age so well as
their neighbours, and to have sunk a little on one side under their
infirmities. One was distinguished by a wooden canopy over it, and
had once belonged to that _rara avis_, a dissenting peer. One of his
descendants, no other than the village schoolmaster, occupied the pew,
and in the pride of his descent had painted on the door 'Lord Hugh
Willoughby.' When did Dissenters know anything of heraldry? Or the
difference between Lord Hugh and Hugh Lord? It converted the baronial
ancestor into quite another person. But it did just as well; a lord's
a lord all the world over, and Burke's Extinct Peerage had not come
out. There was no vestry in the chapel; but the minister wore no gown,
so no robing room was required. The bier stood at one end, a perpetual
_memento mori_, and over it hung the bell-rope, looped up on a peg.
The minister walked straight into the pulpit from the outer door,
and the service began with the clerk giving out the hymn in a thin,
feeble, snuffling voice, and, lest any of the congregation had not
caught the number, assisted their memories by writing it in chalk on
a slate, and suspending it from a nail from the pulpit over his head;
the rubbing out of this chalk, ready for the next hymn, occupying a
good deal of his time and attention during the succeeding prayer. The
music was a bassoon and a violoncello, with a pitchpipe to enable
them to start fair, and the singing was confided to the congregation
in general. The doors and windows were left open in summer, for no
sound could enter more disturbing than the twitter of a bird or the
bleat of a lamb. Flies came buzzing in, or a bee hummed her way round,
and perhaps settled in one of the posies carried on Sundays by the
country girls, and esteemed a sovereign remedy against sleeping during
service. It would be difficult to sleep anywhere with such a rich
combination of sight and scent as those nosegays of lad's-love and
thyme, wall flowers, pinks, and roses. The graveyard was grassy, still,
and peaceful; not a gravel walk up to the door; all was grass, silent
and calm. The weekly worshippers held it in affectionate reverence,
for there they had laid their own kindred, and there they expected to
be laid in turn. After service the congregation dispersed seriously
and quietly; those who lived in the same direction walking together,
discussing the sermon or enquiring after each other's affairs; but all
in a hushed, subdued tone that belongs to Sunday in the country. I
could fancy there was a stillness in the air peculiar to the day, as
if all nature, animate and inanimate, rested the one day in seven, and
worshipped in reverential silence."
The chapel of Rivington, with which the memory of the Willoughbys is so
closely associated, presents a venerable aspect, though it has no very
great antiquity to boast of. At the passing of the Act of Uniformity,
Samuel Newton, who had been minister of the Episcopal Chapel, withdrew,
but returning some time after and his place remaining unoccupied, he
was allowed "to preach in the church without disturbance." When the
Conventicle Act was in force the good people of the place frequently
assembled to celebrate public worship in the open air at a place called
Winter-hill, a part of the mountainous ridge of which Rivington Pike
forms so prominent a feature. Seats were cut out of the side of the
hill so as to form a kind of amphitheatre, and in the centre a stone
pulpit was erected from whence the assembled throng were usually
addressed.
The present chapel was built in the early part of Queen Anne's
reign--in 1703, it is said, and about the time that Hugh, Lord
Willoughby, the first of that name, with his co-trustees were causing
so much anxiety to poor Vicar Rothwell by retaining the funds of
Horwich Episcopal Chapel, and threatening "against justice and honesty"
to build a meeting-house with them. Like many other chapels erected
contemporaneously, it was built and endowed for the promulgation
of doctrines accordant with those of the Church, but enforced by a
Presbyterian form of government; eventually Arian sentiments were
introduced, and it has experienced the declension almost universal with
English Presbyterian congregations. There is a tradition current that
when these changes were introduced they were received with so much
disfavour that a worthy couple in the neighbourhood who had a child
born to them at the time, determined that it should be named Ichabod,
believing, as they said, the glory to have departed.
The building, clothed in its mantle of verdant ivy, stands a little way
back from the wayside in the midst of its own graveyard and encompassed
by a grey stone fence that looks as old as the structure itself.
Having obtained the key, we passed through the little wicket into the
enclosure--
Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap.
A few shrubs grasp the cold earth, and you can see where flowers have
been planted by loving hands, but there is no gravelled path, and so
you have to pick your way round the grass-grown hillocks, stepping from
dwelling to dwelling of the listless dead, and over the half-sunken
flag-stones, many of them bemossed with age and appearing as if about
to sink into the graves of those they commemorate. Time, as Hawthorne
says, gnaws an English gravestone with wonderful aptitude. Our climate
soon gives an antiquity of aspect, and the moisture encourages the moss
and lichens to fill up the lettered furrows with a living green that
obliterates the inscription while the beloved name it records is yet
fresh upon the survivor's heart--
The record some fond hand hath traced,
To mark thy burial spot,
The lichen will have soon effaced,
To write thy doom--forgot.
Unlocking the door, we entered the little sanctuary, which looks as
though it had remained undisturbed since the time when the Willoughbys
were in the heyday of their power. The interior is plain and simple
almost to ugliness, and a chill pervades the place that tends more
to inspire a melancholy gloom than to attune the mind to reverent
devotion; the pavement is damp and uneven, and the mildewed and
worm-eaten pews, though doubtless favourable to the quiet slumbers of
bucolic Rivingtonians, suggest the idea that the worshippers in this
Nonconformist Zion have little sympathy with demonstrative worship,
and are not much given to indulgence in æsthetic gewgaws--at all
events, that whatever their tabernacle may have done for the promotion
of piety, it is not likely to do much for the cultivation of taste.
The pulpit is placed in the centre against the wall, and directly
opposite is the high seat of the synagogue--the pew or enclosure set
apart, when the chapel could boast a peer among its worshippers, for
the lordly owners of Shaw-place--importance being given by a wooden
canopy, somewhat faded and decrepid in appearance, that overshadows it,
and nowadays spinsters or bachelors who occupy the seat of honour are
liable to have their thoughts distracted by the notice that stares them
obtrusively in the face, "Marriages may be solemnised in this chapel,"
a reminder that might have been useful in former days when, as we have
seen, there was an apparent forgetfulness, if not reluctance, on the
part of some of the lordly occupants to enter the holy estate.
There is not much display of mural literature; a small marble tablet
perpetuates the name of Thomas Lowe, of Rivington, and Alice his wife,
but the only sepulchral memorial deserving of especial notice is a
singular coffin-shaped slab, inscribed with a pretentious pedigree and
a long laudatory epitaph, erected in recent years by a descendant of
the Willoughbys who had evidently less mercy for the marble-cutter than
admiration of the hereditary dignities of his departed ancestors.
It is about four or five yards in height, and adorned with a number
of small shields blazoned with the armorial ensigns of the family
alliances. Here is the inscription:--
In memory of Thomas eleventh Lord Willoughby of Parham in Suffolk, of
Horwich, Adlington and Shaw-Place in this county who died February
20th, 1691, aged 89. Also of Eleanor, Lady Willoughby, who died in
1665, aged 67. And Hugh their eldest son, twelfth Lord Willoughby, who
died in June 1712, aged 75. Also of Anne, his Lordship's first wife,
who died in 1690, aged 52. Likewise the Lady Honora, his second wife,
eldest daughter of Lord Leigh of Stoneleigh, and relict of Sir William
Egerton of Worsley, Knight of the Bath, second son of John, Earl of
Bridgewater and his countess Elizabeth, daughter of his Grace the
Duke of Newcastle. She died in 1750, aged 77. A truly congenial pair,
fondly attached to rural scenes and retirements, and endeared to all
around them by the urbanity, benevolence, and purity of their lives,
evinced at their favourite retreat Worsley Hall, Lord Willoughby
in pursuits like the Noble Earl himself, a spirited agriculturist
affording employment to vast numbers on that fine domain, a dower
possessed in right of her ladyship's first espousal, having issue
thereby John and Honora Egerton.
Also in memory of Edward the thirteenth Lord who died unmarried, in
Flanders, valiantly fighting under the renowned Duke of Marlborough,
in April 1713, aged 37 years.
Also of Charles, his brother, the fourteenth Lord, who died June 12th,
1715, aged 34, sons of the Honourable Francis.
Also Hester, Lady Willoughby, his wife, who died in 1758, aged 73
years, youngest daughter of Henry Davenport, Esqr., of Darcy Lever, a
surviving branch of the ancient family of the Davenports of Davenport
in the county of Chester, and eventually heiress to her brother and
sister, an eminently distinguished family amongst the Dissenters of
that period. Educated in the adjoining township under their relative,
the venerable Oliver Heywood, M.A., the Father of the Nonconformist
Divines, and a native of Little Lever.
Lastly in memory of the Right Honble. Hugh, their only son, and
fifteenth Baron Willoughby of Parham, who expired at his house in
London, unmarried, January 17th, 1765, aged 51. Interred by his
Lordship's express desire in the family vault of his ancestors within
Horwich Church, February 9th, and had a befitting funeral for so
exalted a character and Peer of the Realm; the Nobility, Officers
of State, Patrons and Directors of the various Institutions joining
the solemn cavalcade through the City to St. Alban's on its route to
Lancashire which journey occupied nigh three weeks; in whom too the
male line of this branch became extinct.
A constant attender and supporter with his revered and early widowed
and exemplary mother of this Chapel and to which he bequeathed the sum
of £100. Here, as the Son, the Brother, the Friend, above all as the
Christian his name is perpetuated. An elegant and accomplished scholar
who, after enjoying the advantage of foreign travel for some years
returned to England, filled with a patriotic devotion for his native
country. Open, kind-hearted, and magnanimous, he commenced his onerous
Parliamentary duties, and soon gave evidence of that legislative
talent which afterwards shone forth with so much splendour, conferring
upon him, by being unanimously chosen Chairman of the Committees of
the House of Peers, an official reward and the lasting esteem of
his most gracious Sovereigns George II. and III. to the close of
a transcendently brilliant political career. With his universally
acknowledged refinement of taste, enriched abroad and extensively
cultivated at home, and his judicious bestowal of patronage, exercised
in the promotion of Literature, Science and the Arts, in whatever
walk his comprehensive mind discerned genius or oppressed worth, his
fostering hand brought forth the "flower born to blush unseen," which
in speedy requital for such true greatness of soul obtained for him
the additional very high appointments, viz., President of the Society
of Antiquaries, and Vice-president of the Royal Society, succeeding
the learned Martin Foulkes, Esq., Vice-president of the Society for
the Encouragement of the Fine Arts; a trustee of the British Museum,
and one of the Commissioners of Longitude. A nobleman who adorned the
title derived from his forefathers by his own social and domestic
virtues; leaving a grateful nation to deplore his unexpected removal
from this sublunary state and two sisters, his co-heiresses at law,
the Honble. Helena, wife of Baxter Roscoe, Esqr., and the Honble.
Elizabeth, the wife of John Shaw, Esqr.
As a tribute of affectionate regard due to so lamented a Servant,
Philanthropist and Relative, this monument is erected by his
grand-nephews and nieces.
Friends we have had--the years flew by,
How many have they borne away?
Man like the hours is born to die,
The last year's hours, oh, where are they?
Catch then, O catch the transient hour,
Improve each moment as it flies,
So teach us in our solemn hour,
That we ourselves are dying flowers.
He dies--alas! how soon he dies,
Yet all these flowers now lost by death
In other worlds shall brightly bloom,
Spring with fresh life, immortal breath,
And burst the confines of the tomb.
Recorded in the Museum:--"The illustrious Lord Willoughby, who holds
a distinguished place in the Temple of Science and as a pre-eminent
personage elected to fill the two offices vacant by the demise of
the justly celebrated Martin Foulkes, Esqr., powerfully aided in
design and furtherance of its object this stupendous structure, by
his unremitting zeal and matured conception as a virtuoso. Founded
in his 39th year A.D. 1753." Extract from Lysons:--"His Lordship's
stipend from Government was 1,200 guineas per annum. He was a father
to the poor, a benefactor and protector of indigent deserving authors,
a munificent patron of learning, music, painting, and poetry, and a
statesman who sought without fear or favour the common good." These
mementoes of five generations and alliances of a patrician race
summoned to Parliament 7th Edward II., 1313, are faithfully detailed
from authentic documents possessed only by the writer himself, who
snatched them from oblivion, and compiled chiefly for the Antiquary
and Herald, every vestige beside regarding them being flagrantly
destroyed with the ancient sacred edifice wherein reposed their bodies.
After this fulsome eulogy, which offends alike against piety,
simplicity, and truth, may we not exclaim with Sir Thomas Browne in his
_Hydriotaphia_, "Man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes and pompous
in the grave, solemnising nativities and deaths with equal lustre."
Any account of the Willoughbys would be incomplete that did not make
mention of that _preux chevalier_, the hero of Zutphen, the friend
of Sir Philip Sidney, and the idol of popular fame, who, if he did
not bear the name, was yet of the blood of the Willoughbys--Peregrine
Bertie, Lord Willoughby of Eresby, whose valour was proved on many a
hard-fought field, and whose name so often rang on the plains of the
Netherlands--
The brave Lord Willoughby,
Of courage fierce and fell,
Who would not give one inch of way
For all the devils in hell.