~Bishop Blase’s Festival,~
AT BRADFORD, 3d FEBRUARY, 1825.
The septennial festival, held in honour of bishop Blase, and of the
invention of wool-combing attributed to that personage, was on this day
celebrated at Bradford with great gaiety and rejoicing.
There is no place in the kingdom where the bishop is so splendidly
commemorated as at Bradford. In 1811, 1818, and at previous septennial
periods, the occasion was celebrated with great pomp and festivity, each
celebration surpassing the preceding ones in numbers and brilliance. The
celebration of 1825 eclipsed all hitherto seen, and it is most
gratifying to know, that this is owing to the high prosperity of the
worsted and woollen manufactures, which are constantly adding fresh
streets and suburban villages to the town.
The different trades began to assemble at eight o’clock in the morning,
but it was near ten o’clock before they all were arranged in marching
order in Westgate. The arrangements were actively superintended by
Matthew Thompson, Esq. The morning was brilliantly beautiful. As early
as seven o’clock, strangers poured into Bradford from the surrounding
towns and villages, in such numbers as to line the roads in every
direction; and almost all the vehicles within twenty miles were in
requisition. Bradford was never before known to be so crowded with
strangers. Many thousands of individuals must have come to witness the
scene. About ten o’clock the procession was drawn up in the following
order:--
Herald bearing a flag.
_Woolstaplers_ on horseback, each horse caparisoned with a fleece.
_Worsted Spinners and Manufacturers_ on horseback, in white stuff
waistcoats, with each a sliver over the shoulder, and a white
stuff sash; the horses’ necks covered with nets made of thick
yarn.
_Merchants_ on horseback, with coloured sashes.
Three Guards. Masters’ Colours. Three Guards.
_Apprentices and Masters’ Sons_, on horseback, with ornamented caps,
scarlet stuff coats, white stuff waistcoats, and blue pantaloons.
_Bradford_ and _Keighley Bands_.
_Mace-bearer_, on foot.
Six Guards. KING. QUEEN. Six Guards.
Guards. JASON. PRINCESS MEDEA. Guards.
Bishop’s Chaplain.
BISHOP BLASE.
_Shepherd and Shepherdess._
_Shepherd Swains._
_Woolsorters_, on horseback, with ornamented caps, and various
coloured slivers.
_Comb Makers._
_Charcoal Burners._
_Combers’ Colours._
Band.
_Woolcombers_, with wool wigs, &c.
Band.
_Dyers_, with red cockades, blue aprons, and crossed slivers of red
and blue.
The following were the numbers of the different bodies, as nearly as
could be estimated:--24 _woolstaplers_, 38 _spinners_ and
_manufacturers_, 6 _merchants_, 56 _apprentices_ and _masters’ sons_,
160 _wool-sorters_, 30 _combmakers_, 470 _wool-combers_, and 40 _dyers_.
The KING, on this occasion, was an old man, named _Wm. Clough_, of
Darlington, who had filled the regal station at four previous
celebrations. Jason (the celebrated legend of the Golden Fleece of
Colchis, is interwoven with the commemoration of the bishop,) was
personated by _John Smith_; and the fair MEDEA, to whom he was indebted
for his spoils, rode by his side.--BISHOP BLASE was a personage of very
becoming gravity, also named _John Smith_; and he had enjoyed his
pontificate several previous commemorations; his chaplain was _James
Beethom_. The ornaments of the spinners and manufacturers had a neat and
even elegant appearance, from the delicate and glossy whiteness of the
finely combed wool which they wore. The apprentices and masters’ sons,
however, formed the most showy part of the procession, their caps being
richly adorned with ostrich feathers, flowers, and knots of various
coloured yarn, and their stuff garments being of the gayest colours;
some of these dresses, we understand, were very costly, from the
profusion of their decorations. The shepherd, shepherdess, and swains,
were attired in light green. The wool-sorters, from their number and the
height of their plumes of feathers, which were, for the most part, of
different colours, and formed in the shape of _fleur-de-lis_, had a
dashing appearance. The combmakers carried before them the instruments
here so much celebrated, raised on standards, together with golden
fleeces, rams’ heads with gilded horns, and other emblems. The combers
looked both neat and comfortable in their flowing wigs of well-combed
wool; and the garb of the dyers was quite professional. Several
well-painted flags were displayed, one of which represented on one side
the venerable BISHOP _in full robes_, and on the other a shepherd and
shepherdess under a tree. Another had a painting of MEDEA _giving up the
golden fleece to_ JASON: a third had a portrait of the KING: and a
fourth appeared to belong to some association in the trade. The whole
procession was from half a mile to a mile in length.
When the procession was ready to move, _Richard Fawcett, Esq._ who was
on horseback at the head of the spinners, pronounced, uncovered, and
with great animation, the following lines, which it had long been
customary to repeat on these occasions, and which, if they have not much
poetical elegance, have the merit of expressing true sentiments in
simple language:--
Hail to the day, whose kind auspicious rays
Deign’d first to smile on famous bishop Blase!
To the great author of our combing trade,
This day’s devoted, and due honour’s paid;
To him whose fame thro’ Britain’s isle resounds,
To him whose goodness to the poor abounds;
Long shall his name in British annals shine,
And grateful ages offer at his shrine!
By this our trade are thousands daily fed,
By it supplied with means to earn their bread.
In various forms our trade its work imparts,
In different methods, and by different arts,
Preserves from starving, indigents distress’d
As combers, spinners, weavers, and the rest.
We boast no gems, or costly garments vain,
Borrow’d from India, or the coast of Spain;
Our native soil with wool our trade supplies,
While foreign countries envy us the prize.
No foreign broil our common good annoys,
Our country’s product all our art employs;
Our fleecy flocks abound in every vale,
Our bleating lambs proclaim the joyful tale.
So let not Spain with us attempt to vie,
Nor India’s wealth pretend to soar so high;
Nor Jason pride him in his Colchian spoil,
By hardships gain’d, and enterprising toil,
Since Britons all with ease attain the prize,
And every hill resounds with golden cries.
To celebrate our founder’s great renown
Our shepherd and our shepherdess we crown;
For England’s commerce, and for George’s sway,
Each loyal subject give a loud HUZZA.
HUZZA!
These lines were afterwards several times repeated, in the principal
streets and roads through which the cavalcade passed. About five o’clock
they dispersed.
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