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.”
The historians of Lancashire have generally followed Fuller in
regarding Hugh of Manchester as a native of the county, but there is
nothing to identify him with certainty, for his name may be referred
alike to Lancashire or to Warwickshire, and the tests that can now be
applied are not decisive. The pedigree in Dugdale’s “Warwickshire” does
not show our churchman, though there is a Hugh de Mancestre who was one
of the justices of Warwickshire 29, 30, 31, and 32 of Henry III. In the
thirty-sixth year of that King he had a grant of free warren. He was
then coroner for the county and next year escheator. He died 37 Henry
III., leaving two sons, Simon and Walter. There is no place assigned to
Hugh in this genealogy, but even if he belonged to the stock he may
have been a collateral relative or he may have been omitted as a member
of a religious order having theoretically no further interest in
worldly affairs.
The date of his birth is unknown. Fuller, following the authority of
Pits, says that he was, “when _Adolescens_ [a youth], a Dominican; but
when _Juvenis_ [a young man] he changed his copy, and turned a
Franciscan. Say not he degraded himself, choosing a later order then he
left; for it seems that amongst them the last is counted the best, as
of a more refined perfection. He was a great scholar, and highly
esteemed in that age for his severity and discretion.” He was a Doctor
of Divinity and Professor of Theology, and afterwards Provincial of the
Franciscan Order in England. The most interesting incident in his life
is that already named, and which led to the production of that one of
his works which is most frequently named. The death of Henry III., in
1272, removed a good man but an incompetent monarch from a world where
moral excellence does not supply the deficiency of administrative
ability. But the rule of not speaking evil of the dead led some after
Henry’s death to invest his memory with a sanctity that approached to a
popular canonization. We may again quote Fuller, who is relying upon
the authority of Bale: “An impostor happened at this time, pretending
himself first blind, then cured at the tomb of King Henry the Third, so
to get coin to himself, and credit to the dead King. But our Hugh
discovered the cheat; and, writing a book, ‘De Fanaticorum Deliriis,’
dedicated it to King Edward the First, who kindly accepted thereof,
preferring that his father’s memory should appear to posterity with his
true face, than painted with such false miracles.” It is a matter of
regret that this book has not survived; since it is creditable to an
age when superstition too often conceded an unwarranted belief in
baseless claims. That Hugh of Manchester had the skill to detect the
imposture is honourable to his intellect, and Edward I. must be
commended for the candour that rewarded the scholar who had dispersed
from the kingly father some of that odour of sanctity with which
ignorance had surrounded his memory.
There is an interesting reference to Hugh of Manchester in a letter
sent by Archbishop John Romanus to Friar William de Hotham, who was
afterwards Bishop of Dublin. This epistle is dated 10th December, 1293,
and is printed in “Historical Papers and Letters, from the Northern
Registers,” edited by James Raine (London, 1873, p. 102):—
“Suo suus salutem, gratiam et benedictionem. Quoniam in recessu
nostro apud Wixebrigg dixistis quod cum fratre Hugone de
Maincestre, colloquium habituri nobis aliqua significaretis,
dilectioni vestræ per experientiam multiplicem approbatæ notum
facimus per præsentes quod vobis, sicut diximus viva voce, de illa
cedula missa apud Schardeburgh occasione aliquorum falsorum nobis a
Fratribus et Minoribus impositorum, quicquid cum honestate
poterimus, dictante conscientia faciemus; verum quia, secundum quod
nostis, ad observationem canonum in professione nostra sumus
firmiter obligati, contra Constitutionem Generalem nihil ausi
erimus attemptare. Et quia, argumento nostro ipso inaudito, hec
etiam semiplene dicto respondere voluistis, ipsum argumentum vobis
scribimus, ut super illo, literatorie nobis satisfacere valeatis.
Et est argumentum tale. Supponamus quod curati teneantur curare
modo sic. Quicunque tenetur curare, tenetur vultum pecoris sui
cognoscere; sed vultum pecoris sui sufficienter cognoscere non
potest nisi confessionem subditi audiendo; ergo, quicunque tenetur
curare, tenetur confessionem sui subditi audire; et, ideo, credimus
quod omnis utriusque sexus constitutio facta fuit. Sed vos dicitis
quod qui confitentur Fratribus vestris et Minoribus non tenentur
confiteri proprio sacerdoti; ergo proprius sacerdos non tenetur
audire confessionem suam; sed, si non tenetur audire confessionem,
non tenetur cognoscere vultum suum. Ergo ad destructionem
consequentis non tenetur curare. Sed ex hypothesi in principio
argumenti curare tenetur. Ergo tenetur curare et non tenetur
curare; quæ sunt contradictorie opposita. Et, ut utamur verbis
doctoris nostri venerabilis Augustini, primo libro de Trinitate,
‘Non pigebit me,’ inquit ‘sic ubi hæsito quærere, nec pudebit sic
ubi erro discere. Quisquis ergo hæc audit vel legit, ubi pariter
certus est, purgat mecum; ubi pariter hæsitat quærat mecum; ubi
errorem suum cognoscit, redeat ad me; ubi mecum revocat me ad se,
ita ingrediamur simul caritatis viam, tendentes ad Eum de Quo
dictum est quærite faciem Ejus semper.’ Et quia in Constitutione
Martini continentur hæc verba, ‘Volumus autem quod hi qui Fratribus
confitebuntur, iidem parochialibus presbyteris confiteri semel in
anno, prout generale concilium statuit, nihilominus teneantur; et
quod Fratres eos diligenter et efficaciter secundum datam eis a
Domino gratiam exhortentur,’ ac nos diximus in cedula quod secundum
naturam privilegii sui ipsi Fratres sibi confitentibus injungant,
seu eos moneant et inducant quod semel in anno confiteantur proprio
sacerdoti. Quatenus a privilegio discrepat dictum nostrum parati
erimus, si vobis, placeat, revocare. Bene valete. Data apud Wycomb,
iiij idus Decembris, pontificatus nostri anno octavo.”
The following is a translation:—
“For his (son, Romanus, Archbishop) wisheth safety, grace, and
blessing. Since in our recess at Wilebrigg you said that, being
about to hold converse with Brother Hugh of Manchester, you would
point out to us some matters for consideration, we, for your love
proved by manifold experience, make known to you by means of this
writing, that, just as we said by living voice, about that document
sent from Schardeburgh on the occasion of certain falsehoods
imposed upon us by the Friars and Minors, whatsoever we can with
honesty, and under the dictates of conscience, we will do for you.
But because, as you know, we are in our profession firmly bound to
the observation of the canons, nothing dare we attempt against the
general constitution. And because our argument itself has not been
heard, and because you have not wished to respond to what had been
only half stated; we write for you the argument itself, in order
that you may be able to satisfy us by letter. And the argument is
this. Let us suppose that parish priests are bound to administer
their cure of souls thus. Whoever is bound to administer a cure of
souls is bound to know the face[11] of his flock. But he cannot
thoroughly know the face of his flock unless by hearing the
confession of him under his care. Therefore, he who is bound to
administer a cure of souls is bound to hear the confession of him
who is under his care; and we believe it was for that reason that
to every body, of either sex, a peculiar constitution was given.
But you say that they who confess to your Friars and Minors are not
bound to confess to their own proper priest. Therefore their own
priest is not bound to hear their confession. But if he is not
bound to hear their confession, he is not bound to know their face.
Therefore, to the destruction of the conclusion of the argument, he
is not bound to administer his cure of souls. But according to the
hypothesis in the beginning of the argument he is bound to
administer his cure of souls. Therefore he is bound, and he is not
bound, to administer his cure of souls. But these things are
contradictory. And, if I may use the words of our venerable teacher
Augustine, which occur in the first book concerning the Trinity:
‘It will not,’ he says, ‘be irksome to me thus to inquire wherever
I hesitate, nor shame me thus to learn wherever I err. Whoever,
therefore, hears or reads these words, let him, when he is equally
certain, cleanse himself as I do; when he is equally doubtful, let
him go with me and ask; when he knows his error, let him return to
me; when he recalls me to himself let us walk together the way of
charity, leading towards Him of Whom it has been written, ‘Seek ye
always His face.’ And because in the constitution of [Pope] Martin
these words are contained, ‘And we wish that these people who
confess to the Friars, the same may be bound nevertheless to
confess to their own parish priests, once in the year, according to
the statute of the general council; and that the Friars diligently
and efficaciously exhort them, according to the grace given them by
the Lord,’ so we said in the afore-mentioned attestation that the
Friars can, according to the nature of their privilege, enjoin upon
those confessing to them, or advise and persuade them, that once in
a year they confess to their own priest. In so far as what we have
said differs from the privilege, we shall be prepared, if it please
you, to revoke it. Fare ye well. Dated at Wycomb, IIII Ides of
December in the 8th year of our pontificate.”
The latest mention we have of Hugh of Manchester is in connection with
his work as an ambassador. He was sent in 1294, in company with William
of Gainsburgh, to demand on behalf of Edward III. the restitution of
the lands claimed by the English King, but retained by force in the
hands of Philip of France. On this appointment Fuller quaintly remarks:
“Such who object, that fitter men than friars might have been found for
that service, consider not how in that age such mortified men were
presumed the most proper persons peaceably to compromise differences
between the greatest princes.” There is a graphic account of the
embassy in Robert of Brunne’s “Chronicle”:—
“Edward sendis his sond, to France messengers,
Frere Hugh of Malmcestre was a Jacobyn,
& William of Gaynesburgh was a Cordelyn.
Alle þise passid þe se, so com þe erle of Artoys
In prison did þam be a seuenyght in Caleys.
To Paris siþen þei cam, & þer fond þei þe kyng,
þei letter forth þei nam, to trowe þer saying.
þis letter of credence þei schewed in his present,
Here no þe accordance, what þer sayng ment,
Sir Hugh was a man of state, he said as I salle rede,
‘To Prince & to prelate men salle loute & drede,
& for lorde dere his biddyng salle men do,
To lesse & more in fere haf fayth & treuth also,
& for our lord Edward, þat God him saue & se,
We toke þis trauaile hard, his bode to bere to þe.
He settes þe terme & stage bi vs, whan & why
þat he has don homage for Gascoyn plenerley,
In forward formed in pes, as was þer acordance,
As ȝour ancestres ches of Inglond & of France
þei mad a pes final after þer contek,
þou has broken it alle, & don him many ille chek.
Now at his last goyng, when he to Gascoyn went,
Ȝe cette a certeyn þing, at ȝour boþe assent,
& þat suld holden be, euer withouten ende,
þou brak þat certeynte wickkedly & vnhende
Ȝit he biddes þe se, how wrong þou wilt him lede,
Bituex him & þe was mad a priue dede,
Of Gascoyn certeyn was þat feffement,
Forto feffe him ageyn in þat tenement.
þi seisyn is well knowen þe days has þou plenere,
To restore him his owen, he sent to þe duzepers
As lawe wild & right, and couenant was in scrite.
Ȝeld it, þou has no right, with wrong holdes it in lite,
Ageyn alle maner skille, & ȝit þon ert so grefe.
For whilom þon wrote him tille, & cald him in þi brefe,
þi kynde, faythfulle & leale of Gascoyn noble duke,
þerto þou set þi seal, þat right wilt þou rebuke.
Neuer siþen hiderward suilk speche vnte him touched,
Werfore our kyng Edward n þouht fulle well has souched.
þou holdes him not þi man, no þing holdand of þe,
Ne þe þinkes neuer for þan, to mak þe more feaute.
Ne hopes to wynne þat land with dynt of douhty knyght
Of God he claymes holdand & neuer of no right.
At þis tyme is not els of Sir Edward to seye,
Bot of Edmunde þat duellis with him als breþer tueye
Forbi any oþer with him will hold & be,
He is lord & broþer, he certifies þat to þe.
þat no man in þis werlde he hifes so mykelle no dredis,
Ne with him is none herd so mykelle may help at nedis,
For he sees so well ȝour grete controued gile,
Ageyn his broþer ilk dele compassed in a while,
Reft him his heritage, sais on him felonie,
He ȝeldes vp his homage, forsakis þi companie,
& þerto alle þe londes, þat he held of þe,
& ȝeldes vp alle þe lordes of homage & feaute,
Saue þe right þat may falle of our ancestres olde,
Vnto þer heires alle to haf and to holde.
We er pouer freres, þat haf nought on to lyue,
In stede of messengeres, saue condite vs gyue,
þorgh þi lond to go in þin auowrie,
þat non vs robbe or slo, for þi curteysse.’”
—“Robert of Brunne,” vol. ii., 258, 9, 60.
On receiving the King’s reply and safe conduct,
“þei had redy wending, at Douer þei toke lond
& sped þam to þe kyng, at London þei him fond.”
After the conclusion of this embassy we hear no more of Hugh of
Manchester. The only additional fact concerning him that is known is
that he wrote a “Compendium Theologiæ” and some other works, of which
not even the titles have survived.
Footnote 10:
The authorities for the biography of Hugone de Maincestre are
Dugdale’s “History of Warwickshire,” p. 763; Gregson’s “Fragments,”
p. 235; Baines’s “History of Lancashire,” vol. ii., pp. 193, 356;
vol. iv., p. 826; “Nicholas: Trivet Annales,” 1845 (and in Daccher,
_Spicil. Vet. Scrip._, tom. viii.); “Robert of Brunne’s Rhyming
Chronicle;” Hibbert-Ware’s “Foundations of Manchester;” “Pits de
Angliæ Scriptoribus;” “Bale de Scriptoribus Britannicis,” cent. v.,
num. 62; Fuller’s “Worthies of England.” If the reader desires to see
an example of the method of building without bricks, he may with
advantage consult the notice of Hugh of Manchester in Edwin
Butterworth’s “Biography of Eminent Natives of Manchester.”
Footnote 11:
_Vultus_ is here translated literally. The metaphor is one frequently
used, and is a reference to John x., 14.
Mrs. Fletcher in Lancashire.
In the autobiography of Mrs. Fletcher, who was for many years a
conspicuous figure in Edinburgh society, there are some interesting
references to Lancashire people.
Eliza Dawson was born at Tadcaster in 1770, and came of good yeoman
stock, from whom she inherited a steady-going Liberalism that equally
avoided the extremes of “divine right” either of kings or mobs. The
beauty and good nature of the girl attracted admiration even in her
school days, and she had to reduce several worthy young men to
temporary despair by the rejection of their proposals of marriage. Mr.
Fletcher, who became her husband, was twenty years her senior, and fell
in love with her because she realized his ideal of Sophia Western in
“Tom Jones”! He was a well-known Edinburgh lawyer, and in her new home
she met Scott, Jeffery, and Brougham. Later she made the acquaintance
of Wordsworth, Southey, Arnold, Lafeyette, Mrs. Gaskell, Mazzini,
Kossuth, and a variety of other distinguished persons. Her husband died
in 1838, but she survived for thirty years. Her latter days were spent
at Grasmere, where she died in 1858. The impression made by this gifted
woman upon those with whom she came in contact is vividly shown by the
description which Margaret Fuller has left of her. “Seventy-six years
have passed over her head, only to prove in her the truth of my theory
that we need never grow old. She was ‘brought up’ in the animated and
intellectual circle of Edinburgh, in youth an apt disciple, in her
prime a bright ornament of that society. She had been an only child, a
cherished wife, an adored mother, unspoiled by love in any of these
relations, because that love was founded on knowledge. In childhood she
had warmly sympathised in the spirit that animated the American
Revolution, and Washington had been her hero; later, the interest of
her husband in every struggle for freedom had cherished her own. She
had known in the course of her long life many eminent men, and
sympathised now in the triumph of the people over the corn laws, as she
had in the American victories, with as much ardour as when a girl,
though with a wiser mind. Her eye was full of light, her manner and
gesture of dignity; her voice rich, sonorous, and finely modulated; her
tide of talk marked by candour and justice, showing in every sentence
her ripe experience and her noble genial nature. Dear to memory will be
the sight of her in the beautiful seclusion of her home among the
mountains, a picturesque, flower-wreathed dwelling, where affection,
tranquillity, and wisdom were the gods of the hearth to whom was
offered no vain oblation. Grant us more such women, time! Grant to men
to reverence, to seek for such!”
She owed much of her religious feeling to the influence of the Rev.
John Clowes. “It was in the winter of 1788 that I met, at the house of
the Misses Hutton (two excellent maiden ladies) at Tadcaster, the Rev.
John Clowes, rector of St. John’s Church, in Manchester. The bond
between these pious and primitive old ladies and Mr. Clowes was, I
believe, their mutual admiration of the writings of Emanuel Swedenborg.
Although I could not participate in their enthusiasm for that visionary
writer, I think it was from Mr. Clowes’s conversation and writings that
I first became interested in the spiritual sense of true religion, or,
in other words, felt its experimental truth; and I wish here to
preserve the following transcript of the conversation which I made from
memory after passing the evening with Mr. Clowes at Miss Hutton’s.
Several ladies, some of the Methodist persuasion, were present. His
views have always appeared to me to contain much of the true spirit of
Christianity. Being asked his opinion of Mr. Law’s works, Mr. Clowes
said, ‘I read them, madam, with great diligence and much affection, and
I found that they tended to produce a pure, holy, and peaceable frame
of mind, but I found likewise that they disqualified a man for the duty
of his calling. I could not even go to perform my duty in the church
without finding something to disturb me. This made me conjecture that
all was not right in Mr. Law’s doctrine, and I conceive it to be this:
that it is admirably suited for the contemplative but not for the
active life of man, inasmuch as it does not bring the outward man into
entire subjection to the inner man, for man has two lives, or two
beings, in his very best state while on earth.’... When asked what he
conceived to be the state of the blessed, he replied in a calm, but
animated tone of voice, ‘I conceive the state of the blessed to be a
total forgetfulness or absence of _self_, and to consist in beholding
the good and happiness of others, so that every individual will enjoy
the whole happiness of heaven.’... Every man is according to his own
desire, for assuredly the Lord wills the good and happiness of all His
creatures. If a man says he desires to be better, and that he is
unhappy because his desire is not fulfilled, let not that man be
impatient; he has begun to bear his cross, and if he bears it
patiently, humbly waiting for a better state, he will certainly obtain
his desire. The good he did, because he saw it was commanded, will soon
be his delight; and to delight in good is the temper and disposition of
angels.”
In the year 1808, during a visit to Lancashire, her friend, Miss
Kennedy, made her acquainted with the family of Mr. Greg, at Quarry
Bank. “We stayed a week with them, and admired the cultivation of mind
and refinement of manners which Mrs. Greg preserved in the midst of a
money-making and somewhat unpolished community of merchants and
manufacturers. Mr. Greg, too, was most gentlemanly and hospitable, and
surrounded by eleven clever and well-educated children. I thought them
the happiest family group I had ever seen. Miss Kennedy also took me to
visit her friends, the Rathbone family, at Green Bank, near Liverpool,
and we there met Mr. Roscoe, the elegant-minded author of the ‘Life of
Lorenzo de’ Medici.’ Mr. Roscoe took us to his beautiful residence at
Ollerton Hall, and charmed us by the good taste of his varied and
agreeable powers of conversation. He had been returned member for
Liverpool during the Whig Ministry of 1806, and both he and Mr.
Rathbone had taken a decided part in the cause of the abolition of the
slave trade. We were taken to see the last ship which had sailed from
the port of Liverpool for trade in human beings. It was then undergoing
a change for the stowage of other goods than those wretched negroes who
had formerly been crammed in the space between decks not more than four
feet high. The iron hooks remained to which they had been chained. It
was a sickening sight,—but those chains were broken. We stayed some
days at Green Bank, where we enjoyed the society of the venerable
William Rathbone, the zealous friend of civil and religious liberty. It
was he, and Mr. Roscoe, and Dr. Currie, who by their personal influence
and exertions established the first literary and philosophical society
at Liverpool, and induced their fellow-townsmen to think and feel that
there were other objects besides making money which ought to occupy the
time and thoughts of reasonable beings.”
Mr. W. E. Forster, on a visit to Mrs. Fletcher, brought with him “Mary
Barton,” which had then only just appeared, and was still anonymous.
Mrs. Fletcher says:—“We were at once struck with its power and pathos,
and it was with infinite pleasure I heard that it was written by the
daughter of one whom I both loved and reverenced in my early married
life in Edinburgh, so that I had a two-fold pleasure in making Mrs.
Gaskell’s acquaintance through Miss M. Beever, who knew her at
Manchester, and who told me that she always asked about me with
interest.”
She visited Liverpool again in February, 1848, where Mrs. Rathbone, of
Green Bank, introduced her to that worthy Irishwoman, “Catharine of
Liverpool,” whose history is one of the romances of poverty.[12]
In 1851 she was in Manchester, and after dining with Mrs. Gaskell, went
to hear Kossuth in the Free Trade Hall. She was delighted with the
orator, pleased with the crowd, who considerately made way for the
white-haired old gentlewoman, and impressed by the interest in foreign
politics shown by “this great town of Manchester.” Next morning at
breakfast she met Thomas Wright, the prison philanthropist, then a hale
man of sixty-six.