"Whereas Edward Byrmingham, late of Byrmingham in the countie of
Warwick, Esquire, otherwise callid Edward Byrmingham, Esquire, ys and
standyth lawfully indettid to our soverene Lord the Kinge, in diverse
grete summes of money; and also standyth at the mercy of his Highness,
for that the same Edward ys at this present convected of felony: Our
seide soverene Lord the Kinge ys contentid and pleasid, that for and in
recompence and satisfaction to his Grace of the seyde summes of money,
to accept and take of the seyde Edward the mannour and lordship of
Byrmingham, otherwise callid Byrmincham, with the appurtinances, lying
and being in the countie of Warwick, and all and singuler other lands
and tenements, reversions, rents, services, and hereditaments of the
same Edward Byrmingham, set, lying and beying in the countie of Warwick
aforesaid. Be yt therefore ordeyned and enacted, by the authoritie of
this present Parliament, that our seyde soverene Lord the Kinge shall
have, hold, and enjoy, to him and his heires and assignes for ever, the
seyde mannour and lordship of Byrmingham, &c."
In the act there is a reservation of 40_l_. per annum, during the lives
only of the said Edward and his wife.
It appears also, by an expression in the act, that Edward was brought to
trial, and found guilty. Thus innocence is depressed for want of
support; property is wrested for want of the protection of the law; and
a vile minister, in a corrupt age, can carry an infamous point through a
court of justice, the two Houses of Parliament, and complete his horrid
design by the sanction of a tyrant.
The place where tradition tells us this diabolical transaction happened,
is the middle of Sandy-lane, in the Sutton road; the upper part of which
begins at the North east corner of Aston park wall; at the bottom, you
bear to the left, for Sawford-bridge, or to the right, for
Nachell's-green; about two miles from the Moat, the place of
Edward's abode.
Except that branch which proceeded from this original stem, about 600
years ago, of which the Earl of Lowth is head, I know of no male
descendant from this honourable stock; who, if we allow the founder to
have come over with Cridda, the Saxon, in 582, must have commanded this
little Sovereignty 955 years.
I met with a person sometime ago of the name of Birmingham, and was
pleased with the hope of finding a member of that ancient and honorable
house; but he proved so amasingly ignorant, he could not tell whether he
was from the clouds, the sea, or the dunghill: instead of traceing the
existence of his ancestors, even so high as his father, he was scarcely
conscious of his own.
As this house did not much abound with daughters, I cannot at present
recollect any families among us, except that of Bracebridge, who are
descended from this illustrious origin, by a female line; and Sir John
Talbot Dillon, who is descended from the ancient Earls of Lowth, as he
is from the De Veres, the more ancient Earls of Oxford.
Here, then, I unwillingly extinguish that long range of lights, which
for many ages illuminated the house of Birmingham.
But I cannot extinguish the rascallity of the line of Northumberland.
This unworthy race, proved a scourge to the world, at least during three
generations. Each, in his turn, presided in the British cabinet; and
each seems to have possessed the villainy of his predecessor, united
with his own. The first, only _served_ a throne; but the second and the
third intended to _fill_ one. A small degree of ambition warms the mind
in pursuit of fame, through the paths of honor; while too large a
portion tends to unfavorable directions, kindles to a flame, consumes
the finer sensations of rectitude, and leaves a stench behind.
Edmund, the father of this John, was the voracious leech, with Empson,
who sucked the vitals of the people, to feed the avarice of Henry
the Seventh.
It is singular that Henry, the most sagacious prince since the conquest,
loaded him with honours for filling the royal coffers with wealth, which
the penurious monarch durst never enjoy: but his successor, Henry the
Eighth, enjoyed the pleasure of consuming that wealth, and _executed_
the father for collecting it! How much are our best laid schemes
defective? How little does expectation and event coincide? It is no
disgrace to a man that he died on the scaffold; the question is--What
brought him there? Some of the most inoffensive, and others the most
exalted characters of the age in which they lived, have been cut off by
the axe, as Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick, for being the last male
heir of the Anjouvin Kings; John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, Sir Thomas
Moore, Sir Walter Raleigh, Algernon Sidney, William Lord Russell, &c.
whose blood ornamented the scaffold on which they fell.
The son of this man, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, favorite of Queen
Elizabeth, is held up by our historians as a master-piece of
dissimulation, pride, and cruelty. He married three wives, all which he
is charged with sending to the grave by untimely deaths; one of them, to
open a passage to the Queen's bed, to which he aspired. It is
surprising, that he should deceive the penetrating eye of Elizabeth: but
I am much inclined to think she _knew him_ better than the world; and
they knew him rather to well. He ruined many of the English gentry,
particularly the ancient family of Arden, of Park-hall, in this
neighbourhood: he afterwards ruined his own family by disinheriting a
son, more worthy than himself.--If he did not fall by the executioner,
it is no proof that he did not deserve it.--We now behold