Man is a time-piece. He measures out a certain space, then stops for
ever. We see him move upon the earth, hear him click, and perceive in
his face the uses of intelligence. His external appearance will inform
us whether he is old-fashioned, in which case, he is less valuable upon
every gambling calculation. His face also will generally inform us
whether all is right within. This curious machine is filled with a
complication of movements, very unfit to be regulated by the rough hand
of ignorance, which sometimes leaves a mark not to be obliterated even
by the hand of an artist. If the works are directed by violence,
destruction is not far off. If we load it with the oil of luxury, it
will give an additional vigor, but in the end, clog and impede the
motion. But if the machine is under the influence of prudence, she will
guide it with an even, and a delicate hand, and perhaps the piece may
move on 'till it is fairly worn out by a long course of fourscore years.
There are a set of people who expect to find that health in medicine,
which possibly might be found in regimen, in air, exercise, or
serenity of mind.
There is another class amongst us, and that rather numerous, whose
employment is laborious, and whose conduct is irregular. Their time is
divided between hard working, and hard drinking, and both by a fire. It
is no uncommon thing to see one of these, at forty, wear the aspect of
sixty, and finish a life of violence at fifty, which the hand of
prudence would have directed to eighty.
The strength of a kingdom consists in the multitude of its inhabitants;
success in trade depends upon the manufacturer; the support and
direction of a family, upon the head of it. When this useful part of
mankind, therefore, are cut off in the active part of life, the
community sustains a loss, whether we take the matter in a national, a
commercial, or a private view.
We have a third class, who shun the rock upon which these last fall, but
wreck upon another; they run upon scylla though they have missed
charybdis; they escape the liquid destruction, but split upon the solid.
These are proficients in good eating; adepts in culling of delicacies,
and the modes of dressing them. Matters of the whole art of cookery;
each carries a kitchen in his head. Thus an excellent constitution may
be stabbed by the spit. Nature never designed us to live well, and
continue well; the stomach is too weak a vessel to be richly and deeply
laden. Perhaps more injury is done by eating than by drinking; one is a
secret, the other an open enemy: the secret is always supposed the most
dangerous. Drinking attacks by assault, but eating by sap: luxury is
seldom visited by old age. The best antidote yet discovered against this
kind of slow poison is exercise; but the advantages of elevation, air,
and water, on one hand, and disadvantages of crowd, smoke, and effluvia
on the other, are trifles compared to intemperance.
We have a fourth class, and with these I shall shut up the clock. If
this valuable machine comes finished from the hand of nature; if the
rough blasts of fortune only attack the outward case, without affecting
the internal works, and if reason conduces the piece, it may move on,
with a calm, steady, and uninterrupted pace to a great extent of years,
'till time only annihilates the motion.
I personally know amongst us a Mrs. Dallaway, aged near 90; George
Davis, 85; John Baddally, Esq; and his two brothers, all between 80 and
and 90; Mrs. Allen, 92; Mrs. Silk, 84; John Burbury, 84; Thomas Rutter,
88; Elizabeth Bentley, 88; John Harrison and his wife, one 86, the other
88; Mrs. Floyd, 87; Elizabeth Simms, 88; Sarah Aston, 98; Isaac Spooner,
Esq; 89; Joseph Scott, Esq; 94; all at this day, January 9, 1780, I
believe enjoy health and capacity. This is not designed as a complete
list of the aged, but of such only as immediately occur to memory. I
also knew a John England who died at the age of 89; Hugh Vincent, 94;
John Pitt, 100; George Bridgens, 103; Mrs. More, 104. An old fellow
assured me he had kept the market 77 years: he kept it for several years
after to my knowledge. At 90 he was attacked by an acute disorder, but,
fortunately for himself, being too poor to purchase medical assistance,
he was left to the care of nature, who opened that door to health which
the physician would have locked for ever. At 106 I heard him swear with
all the fervency of a recruit: at 107 he died. It is easy to give
instances of people who have breathed the smoak of Birmingham for
threescore years, and yet have scarcely left the precincts of of youth.
Such are the happy effects of constitution, temper, and conduct!
_Ancient State of Birmingham_.
We have now to pass through the very remote ages of time, without staff
to support us, without light to conduct us, or hand to guide us. The way
is long, dark, and slippery. The credit of an historian is built upon
truth; he cannot assert, without giving his facts; he cannot surmise,
without giving his reasons; he must relate things as they are, not as he
would have them. The fabric founded in error will moulder of itself, but
that founded in reality will stand the age and the critic.
Except half a dozen pages in Dugdale, I know of no author who hath
professedly treated of Birmingham. None of the histories which I have
seen bestow upon it more than a few lines, in which we are sure to be
treated with the noise of hammers and anvils; as if the historian
thought us a race of dealers in thunder, lightning, and wind; or
infernals, puffing in blast and smoak.
Suffer me to transcribe a passage from Leland, one of our most
celebrated writers, employed by Henry the VIIIth to form an itinerary of
Britain, whose works have stood the test of 250 years. We shall observe
how much he erred for want of information, and how natural for his
successors to copy him.
"I came through a pretty street as ever I entered, into Birmingham town.
This street, as I remember, is called Dirtey (Deritend). In it dwells
smithes and cutlers, and there is a brook that divides this street from
Birmingham, an hamlet, or member, belonging to the parish therebye.
"There is at the end of Dirtey a propper chappel and mansion-house of
timber, (the moat) hard on the ripe, as the brook runneth down; and as I
went through the ford, by the bridge, the water came down on the right
hand, and a few miles below goeth into Tame. This brook, above Dirtey,
breaketh in two arms, that a little beneath the bridge close again. This
brook riseth, as some say, four or five miles above Birmingham, towards
Black-hills.
"The beauty of Birmingham, a good market-town in the extreme parts of
Warwickshire, is one street going up alonge, almost from the left ripe
of the brook, up a meane hill, by the length of a quarter of a mile, I
saw but one parish-church in the town.
"There be many smithes in the town that use to make knives and all
manner of cutting tools, and many loriners that make bittes, and a
great many naylers; so that a great part of the town is maintained by
smithes, who have their iron and sea-coal out of Staffordshire."
Here we find some intelligence, and more mistake, cloathed in the dress
of antique diction, which plainly evinces the necessity of
modern history.
It is matter of surprise that none of those religious drones, the monks,
who hived in the priory for fifteen or twenty generations, ever thought
of indulging posterity with an history of Birmingham. They could not
want opportunity, for they lived a life of indolence; nor materials, for
they were nearer the infancy of time, and were possessed of historical
fads now totally lost. Besides, nearly all the little learning in the
kingdom was possessed by this class of people; and the place, in their
day, must have enjoyed an eminent degree of prosperity.
Though the town has a modern appearance, there is reason to believe it
of great antiquity; my Birmingham reader, therefore, must suffer me to
carry him back into the remote ages of the Ancient Britons to visit his
fable ancestors.
We have no histories of those times but what are left by the Romans, and
these we ought to read with caution, because they were parties in the
dispute. If two antagonists write each his own history, the discerning
reader will sometimes draw the line of justice between them; but where
there is only one, partiality is expected. The Romans were obliged to
make the Britons war-like, or there would have been no merit in
conquering them: they must also sound forth their ignorance, or there
would have been none in improving them. If the Britons were that
wretched people they are represented by the Romans, they could not be
worth conquering: no man subdues a people to improve them, but to profit
by them. Though the Romans at that time were in their meridian of
splendor, they pursued Britain a whole century before they reduced it;
which indicates that they considered it as a valuable prize. Though the
Britons were not masters of science, like the Romans; though the fine
arts did not flourish here, as in Rome, because never planted; yet by
many testimonies it is evident they were masters of plain life; that
many of the simple arts were practiced in that day, as well as in this;
that assemblages of people composed cities, the same as now, but in an
inferior degree; and that the country was populous is plain from the
immense army Boadicia brought into the field, except the Romans
increased that army that their merit might be greater in defeating it.
Nay, I believe we may with propriety carry them beyond plain life, and
charge them with a degree of elegance: the Romans themselves allow the
Britons were complete masters of the chariot; that when the scythe was
fixed at each end of the axle-tree, they drove with great dexterity into
the midst of the enemy, broke their ranks, and mowed them down. The
chariot, therefore, could not be made altogether for war, but, when the
scythes were removed, it still remained an emblem of pride, became
useful in peace, was a badge of high-life, and continues so with their
descendants to this day.
We know the instruments of war used by the Britons were a sword, spear,
shield and scythe. If they were not the manufacturers, how came they by
these instruments? We cannot allow either they or the chariots were
imported, because that will give them a much greater consequence: they
must also have been well acquainted with the tools used in husbandry,
for they were masters of the field in a double sense. Bad also as their
houses were, a chest of carpentry tools would be necessary to complete
them. We cannot doubt, therefore, from these evidences, and others which
might be adduced, that the Britons understood the manufactory of iron.
Perhaps history cannot produce an instance of any place in an improving
country, like England, where the coarse manufactory of iron has been
carried on, that ever that laborious art went to decay, except the
materials failed; and as we know of no place where such materials have
failed, there is the utmost reason to believe our fore-fathers, the
Britons, were supplied with those necessary implements by the black
artists of the Birmingham forge. Iron-stone and coal are the materials
for this production, both which are found in the neighbourhood in great
plenty. I asked a gentleman of knowledge, if there was a probability of
the delphs failing? He answered, "Not in five thousand years."
The two following circumstances strongly evince this ancient British
manufactory:--
Upon the borders of the parish stands Aston-furnace, appropriated for
melting ironstone, and reducing it into pigs: this has the appearance of
great antiquity. From the melted ore, in this subterranean region of
infernal aspect, is produced a calx, or cinder, of which there is an
enormous mountain. From an attentive survey, the observer would suppose
so prodigious a heap could not accumulate in one hundred generations;
however, it shows no perceptible addition in the age of man.
There is also a common of vast extent, called Wednesbury-old-field, in
which are the vestiges of many hundreds of coal-pits, long in disuse,
which the curious antiquarian would deem as long in sinking, as the
mountain of cinders in rising.
The minute sprig of Birmingham, no doubt first took root in this black
soil, which, in a succession of ages, hath grown to its present
opulence. At what time this prosperous plant was set, is very uncertain;
perhaps as long before the days of Caesar as it is since. Thus the mines
of Wednesbury empty their riches into the lap of Birmingham, and thus
she draws nurture from the bowels of the earth.
The chief, if not the only manufactory of Birmingham, from its first
existence to the restoration of Charles the Second, was in iron: of this
was produced instruments of war and of husbandry, furniture for the
kitchen, and tools for the whole system of carpentry.
The places where our athletic ancestors performed these curious
productions of art, were in the shops fronting the street: some small
remains of this very ancient custom are yet visible, chiefly in Digbeth,
where about a dozen shops still exhibit the original music of anvil
and hammer.
As there is the highest probability that Birmingham produced her
manufactures long before the landing of Caesar, it would give pleasure
to the curious enquirer, could he be informed of her size in those very
early ages; but this information is for ever hid from the historian, and
the reader. Perhaps there never was a period in which she saw a decline,
but that her progress has been certain, though slow, during the long
space of two or three thousand years before Charles the Second.
The very roads that proceed from Birmingham, are also additional
indications of her great antiquity and commercial influence.
Where any of these roads lead up an eminence, they were worn by the long
practice of ages into deep holloways, some of them twelve or fourteen
yards below the surface of the banks, with which they were once even,
and so narrow as to admit only one passenger.
Though modern industry, assisted by various turnpike acts, has widened
the upper part and filled up the lower, yet they were all visible in the
days of our fathers, and are traceable even in ours. Some of these, no
doubt, were formed by the spade, to soften the fatigue of climbing the
hill, but many were owing to the pure efforts of time, the horse, and
the showers. As inland trade was small, prior to the fifteenth century,
the use of the wagon, that great destroyer of the road, was but little
known. The horse was the chief conveyor of burthen among the Britons,
and for centuries after: if we, therefore, consider the great length of
time it would take for the rains to form these deep ravages, we must
place the origin of Birmingham, at a very early date.
One of these subterranean passages, in part filled up, will convey its
name to posterity in that of a street, called Holloway-head, 'till
lately the way to Bromsgrove and to Bewdley, but not now the chief road
to either. Dale-end, once a deep road, has the same derivation. Another
at Summer-hill, in the Dudley road, altered in 1753. A remarkable one is
also between the Salutation and the Turnpike, in the Wolverhampton road.
A fifth at the top of Walmer-lane, changed into its present form in
1764. Another between Gosta-green and Aston-brook, reduced in 1752.
All the way from Dale-end to Duddeston, of which Coleshill-street now
makes a part, was sunk five or six feet, though nearly upon a flat,
'till filled up in 1756 by act of Parliament: but the most singular is
that between Deritend and Camp-hill, in the way to Stratford, which is,
even now, many yards below the banks; yet the seniors of the last age
took a pleasure in telling us, they could remember when it would have
buried a wagon load of hay beneath its present surface.
Thus the traveller of old, who came to purchase the produce of
Birmingham, or to sell his own, seemed to approach her by sap.
British traces are, no doubt, discoverable in the old Dudley-road, down
Easy-hill, under the canal; at the eight mile-stone, and at Smethwick:
also in many of the private roads near Birmingham, which were never
thought to merit a repair, particularly at Good-knaves-end, towards
Harborne; the Green-lane, leading to the Garrison; and that beyond
Long-bridge, in the road to Yardley; all of them deep holloways, which
carry evident tokens of antiquity. Let the curious calculator determine
what an amazing length of time would elapse in wearing the deep roads
along Saltleyfield, Shaw-hill, Allum-rock, and the remainder of the way
to Stichford, only a pitiful hamlet of a dozen houses.
The ancient centre of Birmingham seems to have been the Old Cross, from
the number of streets pointing towards it. Wherever the narrow end of a
street enters a great thorough-fare, it indicates antiquity, this is the
case with Philip-street, Bell-street, Spiceal-street, Park-street, and
Moor-street, which not only incline to the centre above-mentioned, but
all terminate with their narrow ends into the grand passage. These
streets are narrow at the entrance, and widen as you proceed: the narrow
ends were formed with the main street at first, and were not, at that
time, intended for streets themselves. As the town increased, other
blunders of the same kind were committed, witness the gateway late at
the east end of New-street, the two ends of Worcester-street,
Smallbrook-street, Cannon-street, New-meeting-streer, and Bull street;
it is easy to see which end of a street was formed first; perhaps the
south end of Moor street is two thousand years older than the north; the
same errors are also committing in our day, as in Hill and Vale streets,
the two Hinkleys and Catharine-street. One generation, for want of
foresight, forms a narrow entrance, and another widens it by Act of
Parliament.
Every word in the English language carries an idea: when a word,
therefore, strikes the ear, the mind immediately forms a picture, which
represents it as faithfully as the looking-glass the face.--Thus, when
the word Birmingham occurs, a superb picture instantly expands in the
mind, which is best explained by the other words grand, populous,
extensive, active, commercial and humane. This painting is an exact
counter-part of the word at this day; but it does not correspond with
its appearance, in the days of the ancient Britons--We must, therefore,
for a moment, detach the idea from the word.
Let us suppose, then, this centre surrounded with less than one hundred
stragling huts, without order, which we will dignify with the name of
houses; built of timber, the interfaces wattled with sticks, and
plaistered with mud, covered with thatch, boards or sods; none of them
higher than the ground story. The meaner sort only one room, which
served for three uses, shop, kitchen, and lodging room; the door for
two, it admitted the people and the light. The better sort two rooms,
and some three, for work, for the kitchen, and for rest; all three in a
line, and sometimes fronting the street.
If the curious reader chooses to see a picture of Birmingham, in the
time of the Britons, he will find one in the turnpike road, between
Hales-owen and Stourbridge, called the Lie Waste, alias Mud City. The
houses stand in every direction, composed of one large and ill-formed
brick, scoped into a tenement, burnt by the sun, and often destroyed by
the frost: the males naked; the females accomplished breeders. The
children, at the age of three months, take a singular hue from the sun
and the soil, which continues for life. The rags which cover them leave
no room for the observer to guess at the sex. Only one person upon the
premisses presumes to carry a belly, and he a landlord. We might as well
look for the moon in a coal-pit, as for stays or white linen in the City
of Mud. The principal tool in business is the hammer, and the beast of
burden, the ass.
The extent of our little colony of artists, perhaps reached nearly as
high as the east end of New-street, occupied the upper part of
Spiceal-street, and penetrated down the hill to the top of Digbeth,
chiefly on the east.
Success, which ever waits on Industry, produced a gradual, but very slow
increase: perhaps a thousand years elapsed without adding half that
number of houses.
Thus our favourite plantation having taken such firm root, that she was
able to stand the wintry blasts of fortune, we shall digress for a
moment, while she wields her sparkling heat, according to the fashion of
the day, in executing the orders of the sturdy Briton; then of the
polite and heroic Roman; afterwards of our mild ancestors, the Saxons.
Whether she raised her hammer for the plundering Dane is uncertain, his
reign being short; and, lastly, for the resolute and surly Norman.
It does not appear that Birmingham, from its first formation, to the
present day, was ever the habitation of a gentleman, the lords of the
manor excepted. But if there are no originals among us, we can produce
many striking likenesses--The smoke of Birmingham has been very
propitious to their growth, but not to their maturity.
Gentlemen, as well as buttons, have been stamped here; but, like them,
when finished, are moved off.
They both originate from a very uncouth state, _without form or
comeliness_; and pass through various stages, uncertain of success. Some
of them, at length, receive the last polish, and arrive at perfection;
while others, ruined by a flaw, are deemed _wasters_.
I have known the man of opulence direct his gilt chariot _out_ of
Birmingham, who first approached her an helpless orphan in rags. I have
known the chief magistrate of fifty thousand people, fall from his
phaeton, and humbly ask bread at a parish vestry.
Frequently the wheel of capricious fortune describes a circle, in the
rotation of which, a family experiences alternately, the heighth of
prosperity and the depth of distress; but more frequently, like a
pendulum, it describes only the arc of a circle, and that always at
the bottom.
Many fine estates have been struck out of the anvil, valuable
possessions raised by the tongs, and superb houses, in a two-fold sense,
erected by the trowel.
The paternal ancestor of the late Sir Charles Holte was a native of this
place, and purchaser, in the beginning of Edward the Third, of the
several manors, which have been the honour and the support of his house
to the present time.
Walter Clodshale was another native of Birmingham, who, in 1332,
purchased the manor of Saltley, now enjoyed by his maternal descendant,
Charles Bowyer Adderley, Esq.
Charles Colmore, Esq; holds a considerable estate in the parish; his
predecessor is said to have occupied, in the reign of Henry the Eighth,
that house, now No. 1, in the High-street, as a mercer, and general
receiver of the taxes.
A numerous branch of this ancient family flourishes in Birmingham at
this day.
The head of it, in the reign of James the First, erected New-hall, and
himself into a gentleman. On this desirable eminence, about half a mile
from the buildings, they resided till time, fashion, and success,
removed them, like their predecessors, the sons of fortune, to a
greater distance.
The place was then possessed by a tenant, as a farm; but Birmingham, a
speedy traveller, marched over the premises, and covered them with
twelve hundred houses, on building leases; the farmer was converted into
a steward: his brown hempen frock, which guarded the _outside_ of his
waistcoat, became white holland, edged with ruffles, and took its
station _within_: the pitchfork was metamorphosed into a pen, and his
ancient practice of breeding up sheep, was changed into that of
_dressing their skins_.
Robert Philips, Esq; acquired a valuable property in the seventeenth
century; now possessed by his descendant, William Theodore
Inge, Esquire.
A gentleman of the name of Foxall, assured me, that the head of his
family resided upon the spot, now No. 101, in Digbeth, about four
hundred years ago, in the capacity of a tanner.
Richard Smallbroke, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, in the reign of
George II. was a native of Birmingham, as his ancestors were for many
ages, with reputation: he is said to have been born at number 2 in the
High-street, had great property in the town, now enjoyed by his
descendants, though they have left the place. The families also of
Weaman, Jennings, Whalley, etc. have acquired vast property, and quitted
the meridian of Birmingham; and some others are at this day ripe for
removal. Let me close this bright scene of prosperity, and open another,
which can only be viewed with a melancholy eye. We cannot behold the
distresses of man without compassion; but that distress which follows
affluence, comes with double effect.
We have amongst us a family of the name of Middlemore, of great
antiquity, deducible from the conquest; who held the chief possessions,
and the chief offices in the county, and who matched into the first
families in the kingdom, but fell with the interest of Charles the
First; and are now in that low ebb of fortune, that I have frequently,
with a gloomy pleasure, relieved them at the common charity-board of the
town. Such is the tottering point of human greatness.
Another of the name of Bracebridge, who for more than six hundred years,
figured in the first ranks of life.
A third of the name of Mountfort, who shone with meridian splendor,
through a long train of ages. As genealogy was ever a favourite
amusement, I have often conversed with these solitary remains of
tarnished lustre, but find in all of them, the pride of their family
buried with its greatness:--they pay no more attention to the arms of
their ancestors, than to a scrap of paper, with which they would light
their pipe. Upon consulting one of the name of Elwall, said to be
descended from the Britons, I found him so amazingly defective, that he
could not stretch his pedigree even so high as his grandfather.
A fifth family amongst us, of the name of Arden, stood upon the pinnacle
of fame in the days of Alfred the Great, where perhaps they had stood
for ages before: they continued the elevation about seven hundred years
after; but having treasonable charges brought against them, in the days
of Queen Elizabeth, about two hundred years ago, they were thrown from
this exalted eminence, and dashed to pieces in the fall. In various
consultations with a member of this honourable house, I found the
greatness of his family not only lost, but the memory of it also. I
assured him, that his family stood higher in the scale of honour, than
any private one within my knowledge: that his paternal ancestors, for
about seven generations, were successively Earls of Warwick, before the
Norman conquest: that, though he could not boast a descent from the
famous Guy, he was related to him: that, though Turchell, Earl of
Warwick at the conquest, his direct ancestor, lost the Earldom in favour
of Roger Newburgh, a favourite of William's; yet, as the Earl did not
appear in arms, against the Conqueror, at the battle of Hastings, nor
oppose the new interest, he was allowed to keep forty-six of his manors:
that he retired upon his own vast estate, which he held in dependence,
where the family resided with great opulence, in one house, for many
centuries, 'till their reduction above-mentioned. He received the
information with some degree of amazement, and replied with a serious
face,--"Perhaps there may have been something great in my predecessors,
for my grandfather kept several cows in Birmingham and sold milk."
The families of those ancient heroes, of Saxon and Norman race, are,
chiefly by the mutations of time, and of state, either become extinct,
or as above, reduced to the lowest verge of fortune. Those few
therefore, whose descent is traceable, may be carried higher than that
of the present nobility; for I know none of these last, who claim
peerage beyond Edward the first, about 1295. Hence it follows, that for
antiquity, alliance, and blood, the advantage is evidently in favour of
the lowest class.
Could one of those illustrious shades return to the earth and inspect
human actions, he might behold one of his descendants, dancing at the
lathe; another tippling with his dark brethren of the apron; a third
humbly soliciting from other families such favours as were formerly
granted by his own; a fourth imitating modern grandeur, by contracting
debts he never designs to pay; and a fifth snuff of departed light,
poaching, like a thief in the night, upon the very manors, possessed by
his ancestors.
Whence is it that title, pedigree, and alliance, in superior life, are
esteemed of the highest value; while in the inferior, who have a prior
claim, are totally neglected? The grand design of every creature upon
earth, is to supply the wants of nature. No amusements of body or mind
can be adopted, till hunger is served. When the appetite calls, the
whole attention of the animal, with all its powers, is bound to answer.
Hence arise those dreadful contests in the brute creation, from the lion
in the woods, to the dog, who seizes the bone. Hence the ship, when her
provisions are spent, and she becalmed, casts a savage eye, upon human
sacrifices; and hence, the attention of the lower ranks of men, are too
far engrossed for mental pursuit. They see, like Esau, the honours of
their family devoured with a ravenous appetite. A man with an empty
cupboard would make but a wretched philosopher. But if fortune should
smile upon one of the lower race, raise him a step above his original
standing, and give him a prospect of independence, he immediately begins
to eye the arms upon carriages, examines old records for his name, and
inquires where the Herald's office is kept. Thus, when the urgency of
nature is set at liberty, the bird can whistle upon the branch, the fish
play upon the surface, the goat skip upon the mountain, and even man
himself, can bask in the sunshine of science. I digress no farther.
The situation of St. Martin's church is another reason for fixing the
original centre of Birmingham at the Old Cross. Christianity made an
early and a swift progress in this kingdom; persecution, as might be
expected, followed her footsteps, increased her votaries, and, as was
ever the case, in all new religions, her proselytes were very devout.
The religious fervor of the christians displayed itself in building
churches. Most of those in England are of Saxon original, and were
erected between the fourth and the tenth century; that of St. Martin's
is ancient beyond the reach of historical knowledge, and probably rose
in the early reigns of the Saxon kings.
It was the custom of those times, to place the church, if there was but
one, out of the precincts of the town; this is visible at the present
day in those places which have received no increase.
Perhaps it will not be an unreasonable supposition to fix the erection
of St. Martin's, in the eighth century; and if the inquisitive reader
chooses to traverse the town a second time, he may find its boundaries
something like the following. We cannot allow its extension northward
beyond the east end of New-street; that it included the narrow parts of
Philip street, Bell street, Spiceal street, Moor street, and Park
street. That the houses at this period were more compact than
heretofore; that Digbeth and Deritend, lying in the road to Stratford,
Warwick, and Coventry, all places of antiquity, were now formed. Thus
the church stood in the environs of the town, unincumbered with
buildings. Possibly this famous nursery of arts might, by this time,
produce six hundred houses. A town must increase before its appendages
are formed; those appendages also must increase before there is a
necessity for an additional chapel, and after that increase, the
inhabitants may wait long before that necessity is removed. Deritend is
an appendage to Birmingham; the inhabitants of this hamlet having long
laboured under the inconveniency of being remote from the parish church
of Aston, and too numerous for admission into that of Birmingham,
procured a grant in 1381 to erect a chapel of their own. If we,
therefore, allow three hundred years for the infancy of Deritend, three
hundred more for her maturity, and four hundred since the erection of
her chapel, which is a very reasonable allowance. It will bring us to
the time I mentioned.
It does not appear that Deritend was attended with any considerable
augmentation, from the Norman conquest to the year 1767, when a
turnpike-road was opened to Alcester, and when Henry Bradford publicly
offered a freehold to the man who should first build upon his estate;
since which time Deritend has made a rapid progress: and this dusky
offspring of Birmingham is now travelling apace along her new
formed road.
I must again recline upon Dugdale.--In 1309, William de Birmingham, Lord
of the Manor, took a distress of the inhabitants of Bromsgrove and
King's-norton, for refusing to pay the customary tolls of the market.
The inhabitants, therefore, brought their action and recovered damage,
because it was said, their lands being the ancient demesne of the crown,
they had a right to sell their produce in any market in the King's
dominions.
It appeared in the course of the trial, that the ancestors of William de
Birmingham had a MARKET HERE before the Norman conquest! I shall have
occasion, in future, to resume this remarkable expression. I have also
met with an old author, who observes, that Birmingham was governed by
two Constables in the time of the Saxons; small places have seldom more
than one. These evidences prove much in favour of the government,
population, and antiquity of the place.
In Domesday-book it is rated at four hides of land. A hide was as much
as a team could conveniently plough in a year; perhaps at that time
about fifty acres: I think there is not now, more than two hundred
ploughed in the parish.
It was also said to contain woods of half a mile in length, and four
furlongs in breadth. What difference subsisted between half a mile and
four furlongs, in ancient time, is uncertain; we know of none now. The
mile was reduced to its present standard in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth: neither are there the least traces of those woods, for at
this day it is difficult to find a stick that deserves the name of a
tree, in the whole manor.--Timber is no part of the manufactory of
Birmingham.
Let us survey the town a third time, as we may reasonably suppose it
stood in the most remarkable period of English history, that of the
conquest.
We cannot yet go farther North of the centre than before, that is, along
the High-street, 'till we meet the East end of New street. We shall
penetrate rather farther into Moor-street, none into Park-street, take
in Digbeth, Deritend, Edgbaston-street, as being the road to Dudley,
Bromsgrove, and the whole West of England; Spiceal-street, the Shambles,
a larger part of Bell street, and Philip-street.
The ancient increase of the town was towards the South, because of the
great road, the conveniency of water, the church, and the manor-house,
all which lay in that quarter: but the modern extension was chiefly
towards the North, owing to the scions of her trades being transplanted
all over the country, in that direction, as far as Wednesbury, Walsall,
and Wolverhampton. But particularly her vicinity to the coal delphs,
which were ever considered as the soul of her prosperity. Perhaps by
this time the number of houses might have been augmented to seven
hundred: but whatever was her number, either in this or any other
period, we cannot doubt her being populous in every æra of her
existence.
The following small extract from the register, will show a gradual
increase, even before the restoration:
Year. Christenings. Weddings. Burials
1555, 37, 15, 27.
1558, 48, 10, 47.
1603, 65, 14, 40.
1625, 76, 18, 47.
1660, 76, from April to Dec. inclusive.
In 1251, William de Birmingham, Lord of the Manor, procured an
additional charter from Henry the Third, reviving some decayed
privileges and granting others; among the last was that of the
Whitsuntide fair, to begin on the eve of Holy Thursday, and to continue
four days. At the alteration of the style, in 1752, it was prudently
changed to the Thursday in Whitsun week; that less time might be lost to
the injury of work and the workman. He also procured another fair, to
begin on the eve of St. Michael, and continue for three days. Both which
fairs are at this day in great repute.
By the interest of Audomore de Valance, earl of Pembroke, a licence was
obtained from the crown, in 1319 to charge an additional toll upon every
article sold in the market for three years, towards paving the town.
Every quarter of corn to pay one farthing, and other things in
proportion.
We have no reason to believe that either the town or the market were
small at that time, however, at the expiration of the term, the toll
was found inadequate to the expence, and the work lay dormant for
eighteen years, till 1337, when a second licence was obtained, equal to
the first, which completed the intention.
Those streets, thus dignified with a pavement, or rather their sides, to
accommodate the foot passenger, probably were High-street, the
Bull-ring, Corn-cheaping, Digbeth, St. Martin's-lane, Moat-lane,
Edgbaston-street, Spiceal-street, and part of Moor-street.
It was the practice, in those early days, to leave the center of a
street unpaved, for the easier passage of carriages and horses; the
consequence was, in flat streets the road became extremely dirty, almost
impassable, and in a descent, the soil was quickly worn away, and left a
causeway on each side. Many instances of this ancient practice are
within memory.
The streets, no doubt, in which the fairs were held, mark the boundaries
of the town in the thirteenth century. Though smaller wares were sold
upon the spot used for the market, the rougher articles, such as cattle,
were exposed to sale in what were then the _out-streets_. The fair for
horses was held in Edgbaston-street, and that for beasts in the
High-street, tending towards the Welch Cross.
Inconvenient as these streets seem for the purpose, our dark ancestors,
of peaceable memory, found no detriment, during the infant state of
population, in keeping them there. But we, their crowded sons, for want
of accommodation, have wisely removed both; the horse-fair, in 1777, to
Brick-kiln-lane, now the extreme part of the town; and that for beasts,
in 1769, into the open part of Dale-end.
Whatever veneration we may entertain for ancient custom, there is
sometimes a necessity to break it. Were we now to solicit the crown for
a fair, those streets would be the last we should fix on.
If we survey Birmingham in the twelfth century, we shall find her
crowded with timber, within and without; her streets dirty and narrow;
but considering the distant period, much trodden, yet, compared with her
present rising state, but little.
The inhabitant became an early encroacher upon nor narrow streets, and
sometimes the lord was the greatest. Her houses were mean and low, but
few reaching higher than one story, perhaps none more than two;
composed of wood and plaister--she was a stranger to brick. Her public
buildings consisted solely of one, _the church_.
If we behold her in the fourteenth century, we shall observe her private
buildings multiplied more than improved; her narrow streets, by
trespass, become narrower, for she was ever chargeable with neglect; her
public buildings increased to four, two in the town, and two at a
distance, the Priory, of stone, founded by contribution, at the head of
which stood her lord; the Guild, of timber, now the Free School; and
Deritend Chapel, of the same materials, resembling a barn, with
something like an awkward dove-coat, at the west end, by way of steeple.
All these will be noticed in due course.
If we take a view of the inhabitants, we shall find them industrious,
plain, and honest; the more of the former, generally, the less of
dishonesty, if their superiors lived in an homelier stile in that
period, it is no wonder _they_ did. Perhaps our ancestors acquired more
money than their neighbours, and not much of that; but what they had was
extremely valuable: diligence will accumulate. In curious operations,
known only to a few, we may suppose the artist was amply paid.
Nash, in his History of Worcestershire, gives us a curious list of
anecdotes, from the church-wardens ledger, of Hales-Owen. I shall
transcribe two, nearly three hundred years old. "_Paid for bread and
ale, to make my Lord Abbot drink, in Rogation week, 2d._" What should we
now think of an ecclesiastical nobleman, accepting a two-penny treat
from a country church-warden?
This displays an instance of moderation in a class of people famous for
luxury. It shows also the amazing reduction of money: the same sum which
served my Lord Abbot four days, would now be devoured in four
minutes.--"1498, _paid for repeyling the organs, to the organmaker at
Bromicham_, 10_s_." Birmingham then, we find, discovered the powers of
genius in the finer arts, as well as in iron. By '_the_ organmaker,' we
mould suppose there was but one.
It appears that the art of acquiring riches was as well understood by
our fathers, as by us; while an artist could receive as much money for
tuning an organ, as would purchase an acre of land, or treat near half a
gross of Lord Abbots.